Reincarnation of the Blood Demon - Chapter 6

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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 Reincarnation
Chapter 6
A matter of fundamental difference.
The true purpose of Chamryeonggwido was to imbue each rapid thrust with lethal intent, ensuring the enemy’s certain demise.
When Inner Energy and Outer Energy achieved perfect harmony, one could stand against not merely multiple foes, but even masters stronger than oneself without yielding ground.
Naturally, it was no shoddy art. Mastered properly, it could place a practitioner among the hundred greatest masters under heaven.
Nothing like the flashy trash Jeok Sabangjoo had displayed.
How Jeok Unhwi knew all this in such detail was simple enough.
‘Because I created it.’
Thus, he alone could wield it to its fullest potential.
Swoosh—
Jeok Unhwi’s arm, gripping the Short Sword, hung loose at his side as he regarded Jeok Sabangjoo.
An offensive stance. The opening posture for deploying Chamryeonggwido.
Since Jeok Sabangjoo had assumed a similar posture, even the spectators could not mistake what was coming.
“The Third Young Master’s stance is……”
“Is he mocking him?”
The crowd murmured in surprise.
The most emotionally shaken was Jeok Sabangjoo himself.
“Dare you ridicule me!”
From Jeok Sabangjoo’s perspective, there was no choice but to interpret this as mockery of his own martial art.
Of course, Jeok Unhwi did not even blink. As though the words were beneath hearing, he merely drew out his breathing, slow and deliberate.
Soon, Jeok Sabangjoo’s eyes flushed crimson.
“So be it. If you are truly bent on such folly, I shall make death a mercy.”
The last shred of hesitation that reason had held back vanished entirely.
An even more intense bloody aura shimmered ghostly above Jeok Sabangjoo’s Straight Blade.
And in the next instant.
Clang—!
Blade and sword collided in midair.
In that brief clash, the one driven back was naturally Jeok Unhwi, whose physical abilities lagged behind.
Even with Hyeolbokroe deployed, he could not bridge that absolute gap.
Jeok Sabangjoo pressed his advantage relentlessly.
Successive blade strikes descended—each one capable of cleaving not only through steel but through bone and flesh in a single stroke.
Attacks far stronger and faster than what he had shown before.
Yet Jeok Unhwi’s eyes merely narrowed with what looked like disappointment.
“A remarkable solution indeed. So it all amounts to swinging faster and harder.”
Sarcasm aside, Jeok Sabangjoo’s flurry of strikes hammered across Jeok Unhwi’s entire frame with quickening velocity.
Spark after spark erupted in bright cascades!
The boy’s body lurched violently with each impact, and Jeok Unhwi appeared helpless, scrambling merely to block.
Though the reactions of the watching crowd remained mixed, Jeok Sabangjoo—the attacker—could see the truth.
‘His eyes……’
The Third Young Master’s eyes, receiving each blade strike, never wavered for even an instant.
That cold, steady gaze fixed on the tip of the Straight Blade as it whirled through the air.
For a moment, as he pressed the flurry onward, Jeok Sabangjoo could not help but exhale—and his eyes shifted to meet that unwavering stare.
‘Ah……!’
Jeok Sabangjoo’s expression froze as he grasped his mistake.
But it was already too late.
Dropping his guard, Jeok Unhwi’s blade slid through with seamless ease, exploiting the opening in his breath and reaching Jeok Sabangjoo in an instant.
Holding Jeok Sabangjoo’s gaze, Jeok Unhwi spoke as though teaching a lesson.
“Chamryeonggwido is a dominating blade.”
Metal shrieked against metal.
Jeok Sabangjoo managed a desperate parry, but his stance was compromised.
As Jeok Unhwi twisted his wrist in that vulnerable position—
—the true teaching began.
“It is not mere speed alone.”
A bright flash tore the air!
Jeok Unhwi’s Short Sword slid along the flat of the Straight Blade and carved a long line across Jeok Sabangjoo’s forearm.
“Death must dwell in every trajectory.”
Before pain could even register, Jeok Unhwi dropped low and surged forward. The sudden vertigo nearly caused him to lose the opening, but he pressed on undeterred.
Jeok Unhwi unleashed a relentless cascade of Chamryeonggwido strikes, and Jeok Sabangjoo met them with rapid Quaedao counterattacks.
Sparks erupted in a deafening symphony!
Steel clashed, and sparks scattered once more.
Unlike moments before, Jeok Sabangjoo was being driven backward, forced into defense.
Crack, slash—
Where Jeok Unhwi had parried cleanly, Jeok Sabangjoo’s martial robes were shredding like rags from the Short Sword’s grazing strikes.
Jeok Sabangjoo’s expression darkened visibly.
‘How can this be……?’
How could he be losing ground to this mere stripling?
The question bloomed, then withered just as quickly.
Because there was no denying it—the gap transcended mere Martial Arts. It was a difference in the very level of human capability.
“…… Don’t mock me!”
The moment Jeok Unhwi touched the desperately swung blade with the gentlest pressure, it warped away to an entirely different angle.
Clang!
The thrust came half a beat too late; Jeok Unhwi had already deflected it with a short upward flick of the Short Sword.
The blade’s center crumbled, its balance shattered, the strike never reaching its mark.
And from there, every attack found itself torn open—the counterstrikes raking across Jeok Sabangjoo’s entire body.
Crack! Sickening snaps—
Wounds bloomed across Jeok Sabangjoo in rapid succession.
As promised, each blow carried death with it.
The heart. The eyes. The arteries and the ribs.
Not a single movement wasted—every strike homed in exclusively on the body’s vital points.
Had he not gritted his teeth and defended desperately, he would have been dead long ago.
Yet even his desperate defense was imperfect; blood soaked his robes in moments.
“Is he…… reproducing the same Martial Arts from seeing it once?”
“That’s not all. He’s overwhelming him!”
“How can one cut through Blade Law with a sword……?”
The watching martial artists gasped, but for Jeok Sabangjoo himself, facing Unhwi directly, it was as if his soul had fled.
‘Why……!’
It wasn’t a lack of preparation. His body was in perfect condition.
Yet the opponent tore through Chamryeonggwido’s opening moves without mercy.
Like drowning in water, flailing without purchase.
Spurt—
Blood erupted from Jeok Sabangjoo’s shoulder. His frame lurched violently.
‘I cannot fall behind.’
Like his wavering body, his eyes too shook uncontrollably.
Though Jeok Unhwi was overwhelmingly inferior in both Inner Energy and Outer Energy, this impossible thing was happening. Why?
The answer was…….
‘He’s reading everything.’
As if he already knew all of it—the forms of Chamryeonggwido, its flaws, everything.
Though of course, it went deeper than that.
‘Except for the body, he’s clearly superior to me in every way.’
Especially in how the Third Son wielded Chamryeonggwido—it felt like an entirely different Martial Art altogether.
‘He surpassed my Martial Arts after seeing it only once?’
The moment that unbearable reality finally sank in—
“Ughh……!”
Black blood erupted from Jeok Sabangjoo’s mouth.
A supreme counterstrike had shattered brutally; the impact twisted his Qi-Blood and sent it surging backward.
“You……!”
Even so, Jeok Sabangjoo wrung his remaining strength to attack, but Jeok Unhwi slipped through every strike with flowing grace and was suddenly behind him.
“……!”
A chill raced down his spine; Jeok Sabangjoo scrambled to retreat, but searing pain erupted through both legs and his vision dropped.
Jeok Unhwi had severed the tendons behind his knees with clinical precision. The Short Sword flashed twice more.
Snap-snap!
A sickening sound, like twine snapping.
The sound of tendons tearing from all four limbs.
“Hyaaaagh!”
Jeok Sabangjoo collapsed to his knees, screaming as if unable to bear it, while Jeok Unhwi crouched down, looked at him, and laughed.
“I told you I’d win.”
Jeok Sabangjoo stared ahead, hollow-eyed, unable to answer.
Shock hung heavy in the silence that followed, until Jeok Unhwi leaned close and whispered.
“Who sent you?”
“…What did you say?”
“Whose orders?”
The current Sect Leader’s influence and martial prowess were anything but weak.
That such a leader would approach the Third Young Master and scheme behind his prohibition of Sasul was clearly far from ordinary circumstances.
Just as he’d suspected earlier, there had to be someone pulling strings from the shadows.
All the more so, since Jeok Sa Bang was never a school specializing in Sasul to begin with.
“……”
To Jeok Sabangjoo, whose mouth was sealed shut as though he’d never screamed, he smiled once more and gave a nod.
“Don’t want to talk this time either? Then I’ll respect that.”
“…?”
“Tell me if you change your mind.”
Before he could respond, Jeok Unhwi’s blade pierced through the back of Jeok Sabangjoo’s right hand.
Crack!
The sickening sound of bone and flesh breaking and tearing. Jeok Sabangjoo’s eyes went wide.
What was even more horrifying was the fact that his tendons had been severed—he couldn’t run.
“Just kill me…!”
He cried out with bloodshot eyes, but Jeok Unhwi made no reply. He simply drove the Short Sword down once more.
Crack!
“Aaahhh!”
This time his left hand was pierced. Even Jeok Sabangjoo couldn’t endure a second time in silence.
As this happened, Jeok Unhwi’s gaze shifted to Jeok Sabangjoo’s two feet.
“You’ve got plenty of feet. You can spare one.”
That blood-red gaze. The face of Jeok Sabangjoo, meeting those eyes, went deathly pale.
‘The man’s utterly mad…’
Eyes devoid of all emotion even while torturing. As a Blood Sect member, he’d encountered such eyes before.
They were the eyes of someone who had killed countless times.
‘How does the Third Young Master have such eyes?’
As far as he knew, the boy had never killed a single person.
Of course, now that nearly all his information had become useless, it was no longer so shocking.
But what mattered most was that the Third Young Master seemed utterly indifferent to whether he lived or died.
‘…This is real.’
Both body and spirit were crushed mercilessly.
Not even the will to resist remained.
‘If I’m going to die anyway…’
Going alone would be too bitter.
With resolve hardened, Jeok Sabangjoo swallowed hard and opened his mouth.
“The mastermind is──”
And in that very moment.
Bulge! Thump-thump-thump!
The acupoint at Jeok Sabangjoo’s temple swelled grotesquely.
Then abnormally distended blood vessels spread across his entire head.
“──Six.”
Kaboom!
Before he could finish speaking, Jeok Sabangjoo’s head exploded like a split melon.
A truly gruesome sight. The crowd watching recoiled in horror, and Jeok Unhwi’s expression turned cold as ice.
‘Geumje was placed on him.’
It was a form of Sasul that used the Upper Dantian to embed a suggestion.
For one powerful enough to kill a target upon mere mention, it had to be a Geumje of considerable sophistication.
But it wasn’t entirely unexpected.
‘Those who use Sasul always follow the same patterns.’
He’d faced this sort of thing countless times in his previous life.
He could have stopped it if he’d wanted to, but there was no reason to.
He already knew the mastermind’s identity.
‘Six.’
It couldn’t possibly mean the character for meat, so there was only one answer.
‘It’s a number.’
The fact that Geumje had sealed Jeok Sabangjoo’s lips gave the dying words even greater weight.
‘There aren’t many within the Blood Sect who can wield such Geumje.’
And one of them was none other than…
‘The Sixth Elder, Mong Yeom.’
One of the Blood Sect’s seven elders, known by the alias the Curse Demon.
Like most of the Blood Sect’s current leadership, he was far more skilled in dark and grotesque sorcery than in martial arts.
‘Every last one of them—they all disgust me.’
Recalling the Third Young Master’s memories, the elders of the Blood Sect were absolute symbols of terror.
Using strength as their justification, they would drag helpless Ordinary Disciples and common martial artists to use them as subjects in live experiments, grinding flesh and blood into Spirit Medicine.
The Blood Demon Edict had prohibited extreme sorceries such as Human Sacrifice, so they could no longer commit atrocities as freely as before—but it was obvious that such horrors still occurred in secret.
‘Well, that’s neither here nor there.’
The Third Young Master had no connection whatsoever with the Sixth Elder.
Jeok Unhwi’s brow furrowed.
‘Why would he target me?’
He’d known someone was involved, but the Sixth Elder hadn’t been among his suspected candidates.
The Sixth Elder and the Third Young Master shared neither debt nor enmity.
‘Even if the Sixth Elder does support the Second Young Master…’
That seemed insufficient reason to target someone as unremarkable as the Third Young Master.
“Exasperating to the very end.”
It was then that Jeok Unhwi’s expression suddenly twisted.
Something warm traced down his nose, and when he glanced down, he saw blood.
“……”
His fingertips trembled faintly, and a dizzy pain crept upon him with sickening speed.
A ringing filled his ears, and the headache that had begun as a dull throb now spread across his entire head like a descending curtain.
The aftereffects of the Hyeolbokroe were catching up to him.
‘I pushed too hard.’
He’d gotten a bit carried away because of Jeok Sabangjoo’s pathetic martial arts.
Either way, the situation was finished, so there was no need to linger further.
“There was an unpleasant moment at the end, but… well, it doesn’t matter.”
The surroundings remained silent, as if held in shock, while Jeok Unhwi carelessly tossed aside the Short Sword he’d been holding and picked up Jeok Sabangjoo’s Straight Blade from where it lay scattered on the ground, slinging it over his shoulder.
Then, facing the gathering crowd, he spoke as though it were obvious.
“I am victorious.”

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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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