Reincarnation of the Blood Demon - Chapter 8

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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’s Reincarnation
Episode 8
Paying Respects to the Master of Jeoksabang
Namhwa County, Master’s Hall of Jeoksabang.
A row of martial artists stood in a lavishly appointed chamber, each one rigid with tension.
They all stared at the floor with hardened faces, their complexions ashen as if breathing itself had become difficult.
In the midst of that suffocating atmosphere, a man lounged deliberately across the master’s seat, regarding them with a crooked smile.
“We pay respects to the Third Prince.”
The vice-master of Jeoksabang, who had arrived late, spoke those words while bowing his head—but Jeok Un-hui shook his head as if to correct him.
“You should call me the Master of Jeoksabang.”
“…We pay respects to the Master of Jeoksabang.”
At the reluctant correction, Jeok Un-hui let out a low chuckle.
“What? Upset? I suppose you all figured your master would wring the neck of some Third Prince, but instead it was his own neck that got wrung, wasn’t it?”
Indeed, it was so. Setting aside his nature, the former master had been genuine enough in his skills.
No one had imagined the Third Prince—who appeared even frailer than the youngest sect disciples—could defeat him so thoroughly.
“If you’re upset, then take your revenge. Settle your master’s debts and earn a promotion all at once. Two birds with one stone.”
“…No, sir.”
The vice-master hastily shook his head.
Loyalty to a dead master had long since withered to dust.
He even felt an odd relief, as though a rotten tooth had finally been extracted.
In any case, if the master—their strongest—hadn’t managed to raise a finger against him, they certainly had no hope of it themselves.
‘That guard beside him seems no ordinary figure either.’
Ju Yi-gyeom, standing at Jeok Un-hui’s side, kept his mouth firmly shut with a grave expression, and without his usual prattle, the air around him grew markedly more oppressive.
The disciples of Jeoksabang were utterly bewildered—this Third Prince, once called a cripple, had suddenly become someone unrecognizable.
The smile that had never left Jeok Un-hui’s face suddenly vanished, his expression hardening in an instant.
“Anyone involved in the Human Sacrifice Ritual. Step forward.”
“…!”
The Third Prince, who had been smiling just moments before, had abruptly changed his demeanor—the effect was chilling.
The Human Sacrifice Ritual had been orchestrated by the previous master, and all those gathered here had been his subordinates, so they all bore some connection to it.
But everyone understood that was not what the Third Prince meant.
‘…He’s rooting out troublemakers.’
Jeoksabang contained two factions within its ranks.
One that had followed the dead master, and another that followed the vice-master.
Though Jeok Un-hui hadn’t spoken with that understanding in mind, two of the sect masters who had usually served the former master’s inner circle immediately stiffened in fear.
And in that moment.
“There you are.”
Jeok Un-hui hurled his sword directly at them.
Crack!
With no time to evade, the Straight Sword pierced through a man’s chest.
The other martial artist spun to flee, but Ju Yi-gyeom’s blade swept cleanly across his neck.
Spurt!
Before they could even resist, two corpses crashed face-first onto the floor of the Master’s Hall.
In an instant, thirty had become twenty-eight.
“Ghh…!”
The remaining disciples’ faces went deathly pale.
They couldn’t even respond to what had happened in the blink of an eye.
Jeok Un-hui rose from the seat and walked slowly forward.
The disciples remained frozen, unable to move. He pulled the Straight Sword from the corpse’s chest and spoke without a trace of concern.
“Is that all? If there are more, confess now. Late arrivals face harsher punishment.”
Getting caught at all meant execution, and harsher punishment sounded ominous, but in truth, only these two who lay dead had actually been involved in the affair.
Those who had belonged to the former master’s faction but had been fortunate enough to avoid involvement stared at the floor, trembling.
“No answer?”
Jeok Un-hui’s demeanor grew darker still.
The vice-master, who had been watching the mood carefully, squeezed his eyes shut and spoke.
“These two who just died are the only ones. I stake my life on this assurance.”
“Is that so? Seems rather few.”
“…Actually, there were several more involved, but they went missing four days ago. Now that I think on it, they likely fell to your hand, Master.”
Jeok Un-hui regarded him quietly for a moment, then nodded and sheathed his blade.
“Rare to find a man with backbone. What’s your name?”
Ma Hyeol-jin.
“Yes, that’s right, Hyeol-jin. That was well done just now. I’d have felt quite disappointed if I’d been talking to myself.”
“…Thank you.”
Seeing the Jeoksabang members still trembling, Jeok Un-hui clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“So-called Blood Cult disciples, and look at you all… Attention.”
“Yes, sir!”
As the members snapped to proper stance, driven by the survival instinct, Jeok Un-hui spoke coldly.
“Now that I’ve assumed the role of Master, I’d prefer you not give me reason for disappointment going forward.”
Then, as if something had occurred to him, he let out a stifled laugh and added,
“At this rate, we’ll become the Half-Serpent Clan instead of Jeoksabang.”
“…?”
The response from those assembled was frosty, of course.
Jeok Un-hui’s gaze turned equally cold.
“Not funny?”
The faces of Ma Hyeol-jin and the other disciples went pale.
‘Damn it—was that supposed to be a joke?’
The silence lasted only a moment before Ma Hyeol-jin, mustering every ounce of composure, worked his facial muscles into motion.
“Ha, ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!”
With quick-witted Ma Hyeol-jin leading the way, desperate laughter spread through the room, and soon the Master’s Hall became a sea of sound.
Some even clapped their hands and clutched their stomachs in apparent hilarity.
The cold air lifted, and the Master’s Hall filled with the warmth of laughter.
“Ha-ha-ha…”
“Stop. That’s enough. Am I that amusing?”
Of course, that atmosphere couldn’t sustain itself for long.
“…”
None of them could fathom what this madman actually wanted, but expressing their thoughts honestly would only add another corpse to the pile.
Paying no mind to any of this, Jeok Un-hui issued an order to Ma Hyeol-jin.
“Compile everything the previous Master squirreled away and bring it to me. As quickly as possible.”
After that, as he turned to survey the Master’s Hall, Ma Hyeol-jin suddenly produced something from within his robes and thrust it toward him.
“Since the new Master’s victory in the blood duel, I took the liberty of preparing this, just in case.”
Jeok Un-hui regarded Ma Hyeol-jin with admiration.
“Well, I didn’t expect talent of this caliber in a place like this.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Perhaps. But you are capable.”
“…”
Taking the report and flipping through it, Jeok Un-hui found the Master’s asset inventory laid out with perfect clarity.
It was certainly work of impressive competence.
Jeok Un-hui nodded in acknowledgment.
“Who’s the chief administrator here?”
“I’ve been managing that position as well.”
“Capable indeed.”
“Thank you.”
“Help yourself to whatever you need from the dead Master’s stores.”
At those words, Ma Hyeol-jin’s face brightened considerably.
He’d thought he’d fallen into a madman’s hands, but mercifully this madman possessed at least some practical discretion.
“I’m truly grateful. Is there anything else you require of me?”
“Of course there is.”
“Please, command me.”
“Now get out. I’m exhausted.”
“…Yes.”
As the disciples filed out hurriedly, Jeok Un-hui added in a quiet voice,
“Should any of you harbor lingering discontent, feel free to make an attempt. Then we can settle things properly.”
“…Rest easy. We’ll be keeping watch.”
After Ma Hyeol-jin closed the door and departed, Jeok Un-hui remained seated in the throne and closed his eyes.
“Hah…”
Even breathing felt as though his entire body was being torn apart.
Having driven his already exhausted frame to its limit once more, such pain was inevitable.
Jeok Un-hui exhaled a self-mocking laugh.
“What a pathetic state.”
The fact that he’d crossed blades directly with a Master of Jeoksabang only exposed his own inadequacy.
Had he possessed the exclusive technique of Ma Cheon Hyeol Hae Gyeol, a Master of Jeoksabang would have become nothing but a pool of blood at a mere gesture.
Yet this pathetic state of affairs wasn’t entirely without merit—it could serve as a stepping stone toward new opportunity.
‘This is only the beginning. Don’t rush.’
Jeok Un-hui kept his eyes closed, breathing through the urgent impatience that had welled up and the gnawing pain that prickled at his nerves, letting his thoughts continue to unspool.
‘The situation isn’t particularly favorable right now.’
Never mind that he’d transmigrated into a body that was already half-dead—the very atmosphere within the Blood Cult had grown unsettled.
According to the Third Prince’s memories, the Succession Struggle had intensified dramatically in recent weeks.
‘The Cult Master had declared that talent alone mattered, bloodline be damned.’
Because of that proclamation, countless factions besides the First Prince and Second Prince had begun making aggressive moves.
A ruthless war of brother against brother had commenced—anyone who posed even the slightest threat to the line of succession was eliminated without mercy.
Which meant, when he thought about it clearly, the one in the most dangerous position was none other than himself.
‘The weakest of them all, yet I carry the title of prince. No one would face consequences for eliminating me.’
It wouldn’t have been strange if there were one or two madmen desperate enough to make a name for themselves by coming at him.
In fact, hadn’t something very much like that already happened?
‘Yuk Jang-ro.’
That arrogant dog who’d had the audacity to manipulate the Jeoksabang’s leader into laying a trap for him.
Of course, there was no guarantee that this incident had arisen purely from the Succession Struggle—but Jeok Un-hui had never been one to let those who showed their fangs live to tell about it.
‘The only wrinkle is that Yuk Jang-ro backs the Second Prince.’
There was a chance, however slim, that the Second Prince himself might be involved in the whole affair.
Even so, it didn’t matter.
‘If I need to, I can deal with both of them.’
But that was something not even Jeok Un-hui could manage just yet.
It rankled him, but for now he had no choice but to set it aside.
For the moment, the best he could do was prepare for what lay one step ahead.
‘I’ve made a name for myself with this business. A response will come soon enough, in some form.’
That response would almost certainly not be favorable, which meant his next move was already clear.
‘I need to grow stronger.’
In martial prowess, in influence, in everything.
The absorption of Jeoksabang, which he’d mentioned to Ju Yi-gyeom, was merely the first step.
‘Starting with Jeoksabang, I’ll bring all of Namhwa County under complete control.’
Sifting through the Third Prince’s memories, he could see several forces worth swallowing whole.
Every one of them had looked down on and scorned the Third Prince—they had all the ‘justification’ he needed to devour them.
Of course, among them were powers so vastly superior to Jeoksabang that there was no comparison.
‘Realistically, those would be formidable obstacles for me as I am now.’
To digest them safely, Jeok Un-hui himself would have to change first.
Fortunately, that happened to be his specialty.
Still with his eyes closed, Jeok Un-hui spoke softly.
“Yi-gyeom.”
“Yes.”
“Go stand guard outside. I need to cultivate my Yun Ki Jo Shik.”
“Understood.”
Without hesitation, Ju Yi-gyeom rose and left the chamber, taking up position outside.
Jeok Un-hui’s consciousness, eyes still sealed shut, descended into deeper waters.
‘First things first—let’s rebuild this miserable body of mine.’

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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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