Reincarnation of the Blood Demon - Chapter 17

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Blood Demon Reborn
Chapter 17
Half an Hour
“……!”
The shock was so overwhelming that the assembled crowd couldn’t even manage to murmur—
only the sound of gasps and sharply drawn breath broke the suffocating silence, then faded to nothing.
Thud.
Jeok Un-hwi released the hand he’d raised, his expression utterly indifferent,
and the withered corpse collapsed to the ground like a gnarled branch.
Every eye followed its descent, yet not a single soul dared open their mouth.
So it fell to Jeok Un-hwi to break the silence again.
“One more left.”
His voice held an almost casual tone as he spoke, his gaze settling on Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju.
“…….”
Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju’s face had never looked so rigid, his lips pressed shut.
Bewilderment was all that remained—he’d barely drawn his blade a handful of times, and already the battle was over.
As cold sweat began to soak through Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju’s collar, Jeok Un-hwi walked slowly toward him and stopped.
“You wield the sword well enough. Let’s try again. This time, at close range.”
That utterly emotionless gaze descended upon him like a crushing weight.
Crunch.
His grip on the sword’s hilt tightened until his knuckles whitened. His mouth went dry, his breathing quickened.
Every muscle in the martial artist’s body tensed and coiled, bracing for combat.
Jeok Un-hwi observed it all with perfect composure, ready to strike at any moment.
Then Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju let out a short breath.
“……Exhale.”
His eyes slowly refocused. Then he gritted his teeth with grim determination.
“Mm.”
Jeok Un-hwi’s eyes widened with interest—
Boom!
As if the ground beneath him had collapsed, Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju’s figure plummeted. He had dropped to his knees.
The motion was so swift that even Jeok Un-hwi blinked.
In that posture of deep respect, he spoke with grave solemnity.
“I am Jinyang, keeper of the Cheonryu Association. I am overawed by your martial prowess, and I swear my loyalty to you.”
In that instant, the crowd fell silent.
“……?”
The faction leaders’ faces went blank, as if doubting their own ears.
No one had imagined that he—the man called Namhwa District’s greatest master—would surrender so completely, with no shred of pride.
Of course, Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju himself harbored no regret.
‘Idiots, all of them. Can’t they see it’s a lost cause? Do they want to die standing?’
Even Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju himself had no confidence he could match the three faction leaders who’d already fallen.
And that was before adding the Third Young Master to the equation—far worse still.
He wished he’d recognized the truth sooner, but there was nothing for it now.
‘This is no time for stubbornness.’
Pride and prestige were luxuries you could only afford if you stayed alive.
This was how Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju had survived all these years.
At that astonishing reversal, Jeok Un-hwi could only click his tongue in disbelief.
“What kind of creature actually does this?”
From the very beginning, when he’d been sizing up his prey, Jeok Un-hwi had pegged him as more merchant than martial artist.
“No pride at all?”
“A man cannot flaunt his pride if he’s not breathing, can he?”
Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju answered in an even tone, and he meant every word.
Jeok Un-hwi let out a cold laugh, then sheathed his sword and slung it across his shoulder.
“Amusing. Your head works better than your blade—you should’ve become a merchant instead of a martial artist.”
“You are too kind.”
“It’s not praise, fool.”
“……Yes.”
Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju’s expression darkened as he bowed his head.
There was no real pleasure in being mocked by someone half his age, after all.
Jeok Un-hwi regarded him with a cold stare.
“I don’t hate men who know their place—but you’re a different case entirely.”
He’d been weighing the matter right up until the moment he turned away, after all.
“You didn’t challenge me cleanly like the others. Why should I grant you any consideration?”
“That is…….”
Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju’s face darkened, unable to muster a proper answer.
Jeok Un-hwi tilted his head slightly.
“I’ll be watching.”
“……Yes.”
Cheon Ryu-hoe-ju squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head.
‘I’m alive. That’s enough. I’m alive…….’
He gathered these words to console himself, muttering them silently within.
Meanwhile, the air in the Secret Chamber had turned glacial and still.
The faction leaders who had pressed themselves against the walls to escape the fighting stood with sorrow etched across their faces.
After observing them in silence for a moment, Jeok Un-hwi spoke abruptly.
“Your eyes aim high, I see. Still.”
And those words became the spark that ignited everything——
Thud! Thud-thud-thud!
Every faction leader dropped to their knees at once.
“P-please, spare us! I swear I shall devote my loyalty to you!”
“Our Cheolgeom Sect will offer our very lives!”
“Just give the word!”
Desperate voices cried out in rapid succession, as though competing in sworn fealty.
Jeok Un-hwi let out a dry chuckle.
“How faithfully devoted they’ll be, no doubt.”
He was well aware that these words were merely an attempt to escape their present predicament.
They would cooperate, certainly—but there would be none among them who truly revered and followed him from the heart.
Yet…….
“That much will suffice.”
A useful tool for handling tedious matters.
That was the extent of his reason for deciding to bring Namhwa District under his control.
“Of course, there are still accounts to settle before we move forward.”
His tone suggested the matter was far from concluded—there remained unfinished business.
As the faction leaders tensed once more, Jeok Un-hwi leaned against the table and swept his gaze across the Secret Chamber.
There was Nam Ho-mun-ju writhing on the floor with groans, the Heukwol Guild leader beside him, the withered corpse of Bi Ryu-bo-ju, and the faction leaders kneeling with ashen faces.
“Ma Hyeol-jin.”
“Yes, sir!”
Ma Hyeol-jin responded with military precision in his voice.
He had thought himself accustomed to Jeok Un-hwi by now, but he was utterly overwhelmed by the martial prowess displayed mere moments before.
“Who was it that dealt with the Heukwol Guild?”
At Jeok Un-hwi’s question, some of the kneeling faction leaders flinched visibly.
Jeok Un-hwi absorbed the reactions of each man who had betrayed himself, and Ma Hyeol-jin nodded before answering.
“Yes, as I reported: Bi Ryu-bo-ju, Cheol Geom-mun-ju, Mu Young-hoe-ju, and Nam Ho-mun-ju. Among them, Bi Ryu-bo-ju utilized the arrangement five times, Cheol Geom-mun-ju and Mu Young-hoe-ju three times each, and Nam Ho-mun-ju once.”
As the named faction leaders’ faces turned ashen, Jeok Un-hwi spoke in an even tone.
“Bi Ryu-bo-ju is already dead, so that leaves three. You two—have anything to say for yourselves?”
Cheol Geom-mun-ju and Mu Young-hoe-ju’s lips moved soundlessly, as though they ought to speak but found their voices utterly frozen.
Jeok Un-hwi gave a dismissive shake of his head.
“There’s nothing to justify. I already know—I asked because I felt like it.”
True to his word, Jeok Un-hwi pointed coldly at the faction leaders and continued.
“Cheol Geom-mun-ju, you claimed to be cultivating Sword Intent—and for it, you bought commoners and severed their necks. Mu Young-hoe-ju, you went further still, crafting crude Artificial Spirit Pills from the vital essence of children.”
Nauseating human experimentation—a pathetic mimicry of the depraved sorcery practiced by the cult’s elders.
This was the path these wretches had chosen to gain strength within this fallen, counterfeit sect.
“……!”
The two faction leaders’ faces hardened as they began to dimly perceive their fate.
Jeok Un-hwi turned to the other faction leaders and spoke in that same measured voice.
“My first command: kill them.”
In an instant, the atmosphere froze into something deathly cold.
Cheol Geom-mun-ju and Mu Young-hoe-ju’s eyes snapped wide open as they looked around frantically.
“……You’re joking, right?”
Cheol Geom-mun-ju muttered the words involuntarily, but no response came.
Only countless gazes, all fixed upon the two of them.
It struck Cheol Geom-mun-ju in that moment: they were surrounded, no different from prey in a closing noose.
“Damn it……!”
──Thud!
A sword flew through the air and lodged itself in the belly of Cheol Geom-mun-ju, who had lurched to his feet in desperation.
Before he could even cry out, other blades came in succession, tearing through his flesh.
The faction leaders, who had competed within the Demonic Faction for so long, knew exactly when to act—and they showed not a shred of hesitation.
Cheol Geom-mun-ju died without so much as a final word, and what came next was inevitable.
“Wait, please! Spare me……ugh!”
A hand shot out from nowhere, seizing Mu Young-hoe-ju by the nape as he tried to flee, hurling him to the ground.
The martial artist had no time to struggle before blades came down upon his back.
Squelch, squelch, crack—
The horrific sounds continued without end. Weapons hacking at a corpse already long dead.
A strange fervor burned in the eyes of the faction leaders.
As if all their fear and pressure—born from the dire straits they found themselves in—were bursting forth, they wielded their weapons in a mad frenzy.
“Mm…….”
Even Ma Hyeol-jin, a man of considerable experience, found himself frowning at the spectacle. Jeok Un-hwi, watching from above, spoke briefly.
“Enough.”
Only then did the faction leaders cease, and by now the corpse had become less a body than scattered flesh.
Yet the fury had not cooled, and it turned of its own accord toward the one survivor.
“……!”
Nam Ho-mun-ju.
He had regained consciousness mere moments ago, yet he had witnessed every bit of what transpired.
“And you—do you have anything to say?”
At Jeok Un-hwi’s renewed question, he immediately pressed his forehead to the ground and answered in a strained voice.
“I shall speak truthfully, sir. Three years ago, I conducted business once with the Heukwol Guild. It was an orphan boy, gifted in physique, whom I took as my disciple. I swear upon my life that was the last of it. I beseech you, grant me a path to survival. I shall obey whatever command you give.”
He had driven his head down so forcefully that the skin of his forehead split, blood trickling forth.
Jeok Un-hwi regarded him in silence for a moment, then asked:
“Is that disciple here now?”
“I did not bring him, as the matter could prove dangerous.”
“You are not lying to me?”
“I stake my life upon it.”
Only then did Nam Ho-mun-ju raise his head and answer.
Despite the blood coating his face, his gaze remained steady—a far cry from the two faction leaders before him.
“Verify it.”
“Yes.”
The words were directed at Ma Hyeol-jin, who bowed his head in acknowledgment.
In truth, the reason Jeok Un-hwi bothered to ask at all was that, according to what Ma Hyeol-jin had told him, Nam Ho-mun-ju had committed no egregious transgressions worthy of crossing a true line.
Jeok Un-hwi then tilted his chin slightly.
“You are suspended.”
“Then……!”
Nam Ho-mun-ju’s face brightened. But Jeok Un-hwi was not finished.
“However, there is no guarantee that because you crossed the line once, you will not cross it again.”
“……!”
“You must answer for your words.”
Jeok Un-hwi pointed toward the door with his finger.
“Bring the Cheolgeom Sect and the Muyoung Association under proper control now that they have lost their leaders, and annihilate what remains of the Biryu Sect.”
While the fate of the Cheolgeom Sect and Muyoung Association remained uncertain, the martial artists of the Biryu Sect were every bit as vicious as their leader—there was no reason to leave such a force within his domain.
Of course, even with the faction leader dead, the martial artists of the Biryu Sect remained, and now Nam Ho-mun-ju would have to contend with the fighters of both the Cheolgeom Sect and the Muyoung Association as well.
It was no small burden for Nam Ho-mun-ju to bear, but that was not Jeok Un-hwi’s concern.
‘There is no other way, it seems.’
Nam Ho-mun-ju, his emotions churning so violently that he appeared to have aged years in mere moments, remained on his knees and bowed his head.
“I accept your command.”
“Go.”
Nam Ho-mun-ju bowed once more and limped out of the Secret Chamber. Moments later, sounds of combat erupted from beyond—shouts and the clash of weapons ringing out in succession.
With that cacophony as backdrop, Jeok Un-hwi let out a short laugh.
“The situation has changed quite a bit from before, hasn’t it?”
None of the assembled faction leaders answered, though it was less a matter of will than of inability. They had been overwhelmed by Jeok Un-hwi alone.
It was precisely this that made their lack of genuine submission irrelevant to him.
Fear, after all, is an excellent instrument of control in its own right.
“It ended well. In the end, quite a few of you survived.”
The faction leaders did not understand what could possibly be considered good about any of this, yet Jeok Un-hwi spoke with utter sincerity.
He had even entertained the thought of slaughtering everyone in this place.
And to commemorate that moment, Jeok Un-hwi spoke in a tone devoid of any warmth.
“I welcome you all to become my subordinates.”
The instant Namhwa District submitted to the Third Young Master.
The total time expended was merely half an hour.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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