Chapter 101 : "Subdue Evil with Good"

The Seven Demon Heavens, seven pillars that upheld the Heavenly Demon Cult. Among them, Jo Jin-gwang, the Third Elder of the Sword Demon Heaven, would often drop by the Qinghai Iron Workshop.

It wasn’t for anything work-related. Dealings between the Iron Workshop and the Sword Demon Heaven were matters for the underlings to handle—certainly beneath his direct involvement.

There was only one reason.

“Elder, when will you take me to the Cult?”

A young woman pouring him wine asked with a sweet smile. Jo Jin-gwang nodded in satisfaction.

“It’ll be very soon now.”

“Pfft, you said that last time too.”

Jo Jin-gwang stared at her intently.

Of course, he had no intention of taking her to the Cult. Within the Sword Demon Heaven—within the Cult itself—his reputation mattered. How could he be seen consorting with a mere young blacksmith?

He simply enjoyed her face, and everything else about her was to his liking—that was all.

Jo Jin-gwang was drinking in high spirits when it happened.

RUMBLE—!

The ground suddenly began to shake.

He furrowed his brow slightly and called out.

“What’s going on out there?”

“A formation has been activated.”

A subordinate outside responded.

Jo Jin-gwang simply nodded and resumed drinking.

This was the Qinghai Iron Workshop, after all. Its formations were so formidable that even he couldn’t guarantee his survival if caught within them.

With such a massive facility, small-time thieves occasionally broke in like this.

It wasn’t something to worry about.

But the unpleasant tremor didn’t fade even after a long while. Instead, it only grew stronger.

Jo Jin-gwang, who had been enjoying his drink, finally lost patience and rose to his feet.

“What the hell is going on?”

He left the woman behind and stepped outside. What greeted him was chaos—blacksmiths from the Qinghai Iron Workshop and warriors of the Cult in utter disarray.

When he grabbed a subordinate and asked what was happening, the response was hard to believe.

“He’s still holding out? Inside that thing?”

Jo Jin-gwang’s expression hardened.

How many martial artists in the world could endure that formation’s vines for this long?

It wasn’t merely a matter of skill. That formation absorbed inner energy at an incredible rate. Even a peak-level master would struggle to last this long.

Jo Jin-gwang clicked his tongue softly.

“Did the Sect Leader of Kunlun come himself?”

He muttered as he headed toward the formation. The formation masters of the Iron Workshop, alarmed, hurried to dismantle every formation in his path.

Soon, Jo Jin-gwang arrived at the core of the formation. And at that very moment—

KWA-AAAAANG—!

The formation collapsed.

And standing there was an unfamiliar young man.

Jo Jin-gwang had expected a renowned master of the Orthodox or even the Unorthodox Path, so the sight left him somewhat dumbfounded.

.

.

.

As the fight went on, Jo Jin-gwang’s bewilderment only deepened. He had noticed that the man’s inner strength was unusual. Perhaps it came from some miraculous encounter, as he seemed to possess a well-trained dynamic cultivation technique.

Still, no matter what kind of cultivation it was, being trapped in half of the formation while facing him should’ve drained him to exhaustion by now.

‘This monster of a bastard…’

But the man didn’t fall.

Though signs of fatigue were clear, the force behind his sword strikes never waned.

After quite a lengthy battle, Jo Jin-gwang arrived at a single conclusion.

This young brat was stronger than the Young Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult.

It was an impossible notion—but it was happening right before his eyes.

So, he hesitated for a moment.

Should he try bringing this one to the Cult?

The deliberation didn’t last long. For someone who had achieved such martial prowess at this age, the chance of him becoming uncontrollable in the future was overwhelmingly high.

That left only one option.

‘Better to kill him.’

If he let a monstrous sapling like this live, who knew how towering a tree it would grow into—one that might one day threaten the Cult itself.

And the moment he made his decision, the man, perhaps from exhaustion, became entangled in the vines.

Relieved, Jo Jin-gwang thrust his sword toward the man’s heart.

KANG—!

A look of blatant shock crossed Jo Jin-gwang’s face.

What was that?

The thought flashed through his mind. No armor in the world could withstand the blade of a Sword Demon Heaven Elder like this.

Judging by the sensation at the tip of his sword, it had only barely scratched the armor.

And then it happened.

The man tore through the vines with brute force and reached out his hand. In his palm was a dark crimson aura.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZNG—!

Struck by the force, Jo Jin-gwang stumbled back a dozen steps, clutching his face with both hands.

Even though he’d hastily shrouded himself in protective qi, it felt as though his eyes had burst open.

Clutching his left eye, which now gushed blood, Jo Jin-gwang was thrown into confusion.

‘What the hell…’

Though he was an Elder of the Seven Demon Heavens, he had never seen nor heard of such a dense, ominous demonic qi.

The only thing that came to mind…

The Heavenly Demon Divine Art (Cheonma Divine Art).

The singular martial art at the peak of all demonic techniques. That aura reminded him of the Cheonma Divine Art.

It was clearly a different kind of demonic qi, but the unique dread and gloom it exuded… was similar to, or perhaps—

Unbelievably—even more powerful than the Cheonma Divine Art.

He chalked it up to his current critical condition.

After all, no ma—no demon art—could surpass the Cheonma Divine Art.

.

.

.

Jin Seong-un walked toward him with heavy steps.

His entire body screamed in pain—his qi channels twisted and his muscles on the verge of snapping.

Yet his mind was at ease.

He had escaped the formation.

“Attack, attack!”

Jo Jin-gwang shouted, and dozens of warriors charged at Jin Seong-un all at once.

Jin Seong-un exhaled a ragged breath and extended his hand.

CRACK—!

He crushed everyone in his path.

He snapped necks, broke ribs, and shattered dantian as he pressed forward.

With each step he took, the corpses of Demonic Practitioners piled up.

After twenty paces, no one dared to approach. The Demonic Practitioners had long since been torn apart, and only the second-rate warriors of the Qinghai Iron Workshop remained.

There was no way they would dare charge in after witnessing Jin Seong-un’s martial prowess.

Jin Seong-un stood before Jo Jin-gwang.

Jo Jin-gwang hastily thrust his sword.

But perhaps because he had lost one eye, his sword’s trajectory wavered.

Swish—!

Jin Seong-un slightly tilted his head to avoid it.

He then struck Jo Jin-gwang’s wrist, and the sword flew from his hand.

“Haah...”

Jin Seong-un felt as if his body might collapse at any moment. It now felt like he had only a pinch of qi left.

The Women’s Moon Heart Method was automatically gathering qi in his dantian, but it was disappearing faster than it could be replenished.

His qi was being consumed rapidly just to hold together his body, which had already reached its limits.

“W-Wait a moment...”

Jo Jin-gwang murmured.

The young martial artist gazing at him with such a dry expression appeared terrifying.

Of course, Jin Seong-un had no interest in conversation. He could collapse at any second.

He reached out into the air. The Falling Flame Sword, which had fallen near the formation, flew into his hand.

“I—I am Jo Jin-gwang of the Sword Demon Heaven! If you kill me, you’ll make the entire Heavenly Demon Cult your enemy—!”

The Falling Flame Sword, glowing with crimson flame, descended upon his head.

Even though he unleashed a final burst of qi force, the sword cut through it without mercy.

Slice—!

Jo Jin-gwang’s body was severed in two.

Blood splattered across Jin Seong-un’s face.

He stood still, his Falling Flame Sword drooping in his hand. His vision was blurring.

Strangely, the words of the Sword Immortal resurfaced in his mind. Perhaps because he had just cut down a master of the Demonic Cult using the Fire Dragon Escape Sword.

— “Subdue evil with good.”

A suffocating silence descended upon the hall.

Jin Seong-un, who had been standing vacantly, collapsed.

The remaining warriors looked at one another.

Then, a middle-aged man shouted,

“Kill him!”

It was the Master of the Qinghai Iron Workshop.

At his command, the second-rate warriors hesitated as they approached Jin Seong-un.

That was how deeply the martial prowess he had displayed had instilled fear into their very bones.

Soon, one of them raised a sword and struck down at Jin Seong-un’s back.

Clang—!

A metallic sound rang out.

Everyone looked around in confusion.

Someone cut open a bit of Jin Seong-un’s upper garment, revealing dark-gray armor underneath.

The Master of the Qinghai Iron Workshop gasped and shouted,

“F-Fire Deity Dragon Armor!”

It was a treasure ranked among the top three throughout all of history.

The warriors tried to strip it off, but the armor clung tightly to his skin, making it difficult to remove.

The Master of the Qinghai Iron Workshop ordered the blacksmith subordinates to recover it, adding,

“A Sword Demon Heaven Elder died in our Workshop. How are we to endure the wrath of the Cult? If we offer this treasure...”

At that moment—

“So, you confess to colluding with the Demonic Cult!”

An elderly voice rang out sharply.

The Master of the Qinghai Iron Workshop felt his heart drop.

Dozens of martial artists rushed into the hall like a tide.

At the forefront stood the old man.

The Master recognized him at once. His gentle face held eyes sharper and deeper than any martial artist, and those eyes were staring directly at him.

Sima Baek, the Sage of Hubei.

The Vice Leader and Chief Strategist of the Murim Alliance had come in person, leading his forces. This wasn’t suspicion of collusion—this was certainty.

But how?

Then he noticed the woman standing beside Sima Baek. Even in the dark of night, her red hair stood out.

“Manor Master of Falling Flame Manor!”

Chae Ga-hee, the Manor Master of Falling Flame Manor. Beside her stood Chae Seo-ryeong, with the same red hair.

As Sima Baek scanned the hall with blazing eyes, Do Won-hyeok, the Head of White Sword Hall who had personally led the martial artists, spotted the collapsed Jin Seong-un.

Do Won-hyeok had previously visited Seong-un Inn during the Divine Thief incident on behalf of the Murim Alliance, so he recognized Jin Seong-un’s face.

“Escort the Guest Dragon.”

The warriors of White Sword Hall gently lifted Jin Seong-un and moved him to safety.

The entire process flowed smoothly, like a gust of wind.

Then Sima Baek spoke in a cold voice loud enough for all to hear.

“All Alliance members—purge those who colluded with the Demonic Cult and made a mockery of the Righteous Murim!”

At his command, the warriors of White Sword Hall moved.

Everyone would be taken into custody by the Murim Alliance. Their meridians would be severed, and those deeply involved in the crimes would not escape death.

At that moment—

The Master of the Qinghai Iron Workshop, glaring at Chae Ga-hee, screamed in a choked voice,

“You baseborn half-breed from the Cult and barbarians! You’re the one who shamelessly contacted the Murim Alliance!”

He understood now.

The evidence and circumstances were already overwhelming.

He had even admitted the collusion with the Demonic Cult himself.

He would not escape death. If so, he would also reveal the secrets of Falling Flame Manor to the world. Better than dying alone, he thought.

Indeed, the members of the Murim Alliance turned their eyes toward Chae Ga-hee and Chae Seo-ryeong. The mother and daughter—women of the Falling Flame Manor—were met with the gaze they feared most.

It was the very reason they couldn’t seek help from Murim forces after their treasure was stolen.

Then, Sima Baek said,

“Manor Master of Falling Flame Manor contacted me of her own will.”

It was true.

After sending Jin Seong-un and her daughter away, Chae Ga-hee had stayed up the entire night in thought.

Was it truly the right thing to do? Perhaps she had made a selfish decision under the pretense of respecting her ancestor’s wager and her daughter’s will.

After much deliberation, she had personally contacted Sima Baek.

“The Demonic Cult was founded by fugitives from the Central Plains. In the end, the same blood flows through all of us. So what’s the issue? Do Central Plains people reject the Cult simply because of bloodlines?”

“…”

“No. The reason we despise, fear, and seek to eliminate the Demonic Cult isn’t because of blood—it’s because of their vile deeds and base malice.”

Then, in a clear tone for all to hear, Sima Baek concluded,

“Strike!”

At once, the elite warriors of White Sword Hall took a bold step forward, releasing overwhelming force—then came to a stop.

Seeing them hesitate, Sima Baek slowly looked around.

“…There’s nothing left to strike.”

Because Jin Seong-un had already wiped them all out.

All that remained were the pitiful few warriors affiliated with the Iron Workshop.

He had shattered the Workshop’s formation on his own.

He had killed an Elder of Sword Demon Heaven, one of the Seven Demon Heavens, and slaughtered dozens of warriors.

Only now did Sima Baek truly understand—why the Head of White Sword Hall, the Wudang Sect, the Sichuan Tang Clan, and even the Namgung Clan had all desired the Inn Waiter, Jin Seong-un, so badly.