Episode 469

Blood and Tears Flow (1)

 

“Ah!”

 

Lee Soo-ah opened her mouth and stared ahead.

 

The sight of an entire village engulfed in flames sent shivers down her spine.

 

She could only stare at the massive fire dyeing the sky red, unable to say anything.

 

The others were the same.

 

Overwhelmed by the flames’ unimaginable scale, none of them could speak.

 

The first to break the silence was Ki Jin-hwi.

 

“W-what…?”

 

He stuttered, clearly shocked.

 

Lee Gwak’s expression also darkened.

 

The wind carried a mixture of burning smells and the stench of blood. Although they were still quite far from Pyeongseong, the scent was so strong that it made their heads throb. Lee Gwak knew from experience that such a strong smell of blood couldn’t come from just a few deaths.

 

“Let’s go quickly.”

 

Before Go Yu-rak could stop him, Ji Sang-il urged his horse forward.

 

Shaking his head at Ji Sang-il’s reckless action, Go Yu-rak shouted to the escort guards,

 

“We don’t know what’s happened here, so everyone be extra cautious.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

The Iron Order Escort Bureau advanced toward the burning Pyeongseong.

 

As they got closer, the faces of the escorts and mercenaries hardened. The scene before them was too horrific.

 

“Good heavens!”

 

“What in the world happened here?”

 

Corpses littered the streets.

 

Men, women, children, and the elderly lay dead, brutally mutilated. The women, in particular, had suffered so brutally that it was hard to look at them. The blood staining their lower bodies was clear evidence of rape.

 

Go Yu-rak bent over and vomited.

 

“Ugh!”

 

Normally, Ji Sang-il would have scolded him for his weakness, but not this time. Even he was fighting the bile rising in his throat.

 

“Who could have done this to so many people?” Ji Sang-il gritted his teeth.

 

Fury surged from the depths of his heart.

 

His bloodshot eyes scanned the surroundings, but there was no sign of the murderers.

 

“Father…”

 

Lee Soo-ah grabbed Lee Gwak’s hand.

 

Though she was mature beyond her years and experienced in many things, this was the first time she had witnessed such a gruesome sight.

 

Lee Gwak’s face was filled with despair.

 

No one had been spared men, women, young, old. Every person in Pyeongseong had been slaughtered. Evidence of looting was everywhere.

 

Ki Jin-hwi knelt and inspected the ground.

 

“This wasn’t done by just a few people.

 

At least several dozen were involved in this massacre.”

 

“Can you track them?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Ki Jin-hwi responded to Lee Gwak’s question without hesitation.

 

His face was flushed with anger.

 

Among the dead, not a single one appeared to be a martial artist.

 

In truth, Pyeongseong had no proper martial sect. Just a small training hall that taught basic self-defense.

 

Most of the villagers were ordinary people unconnected to the Jianghu. Yet, hundreds had been brutally and mercilessly slaughtered.

 

To Lee Gwak, this seemed like the work of someone venting their rage or worse, indulging in cruel amusement.

 

The killers had enjoyed this.

 

For the first time in a long while, Lee Gwak felt fury boiling deep within him.

 

Conflicts between martial sects were common. The Jianghu was, after all, a place where power clashed, and the victor took all.

 

But there were lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

 

No matter how powerful one was, the indiscriminate killing of innocent civilians was unacceptable in any righteous sect.

 

Even demonic cults avoided such killings, knowing it would brand them as enemies of the Jianghu.

 

A faint killing intent flickered in Seo Jong-myeong’s eyes as he turned to Lee Gwak.

 

“You’re not planning to let this slide, are you?”

 

“Brother!”

 

“Other things can be overlooked, but not this. Why do martial artists train? To stand against injustice and protect the innocent—wasn’t that the purpose?”

 

His voice was resolute, as if he had been chewing on a piece of iron, and his body was dripping with venom.

 

Though he wasn’t in peak condition, Seo Jong-myeong wasn’t going to let this go.

Lee Gwak thought Seo Jong-myeong was a true hero.

 

His unwavering gaze, refusing to yield even an inch in the face of evil, was impossible to ignore.

 

Lee Gwak turned to Ki Jin-hwi.

 

“Brother!”

 

“Speak.”

 

“Track them.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Hah! Understood.”

 

Ki Jin-hwi rose to his feet.

 

Closing his eyes, he murmured something under his breath. Ji Sang-il, unaware that Ki Jin-hwi was using a tracking spell, asked Lee Gwak,

 

“What are you planning?”

 

“Go ahead first.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“We can’t let the Iron Order Escort Bureau suffer on our account.”

 

“I, Ji Sang-il, have lived chasing money all my life, but I haven’t forgotten my humanity. Don’t worry about us—just find the ones who did this and make them pay. We won’t leave until you return.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Lee Gwak clasped his hands in salute before rejoining his group.

 

At that moment, Ki Jin-hwi opened his eyes and spoke,

 

“This way.”

 

Without hesitation, he dashed in one direction.

 

Seo Jong-myeong followed, and Lee Gwak—holding Lee Soo-ah’s hand—leaped after them.

 

In an instant, they vanished from the sight of Ji Sang-il and the escorts.

 

Ji Sang-il exhaled in awe.

 

“Hah! They’re even more formidable than I imagined. Who exactly are they?”

 

Just then—

 

“I remember now!”

 

Go Yu-rak suddenly exclaimed.

 

Ji Sang-il frowned.

 

“What do you remember?”

 

“Lee… Jin-mun!”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“That’s his alias.”

 

“Alias? Whose?”

 

“Great Hero Lee Gwak often used the name Lee Jin-mun.”

 

“You mean… the Sura Blade, Lee Gwak?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ah!”

 

Ji Sang-il gasped involuntarily.

 

He, too, recalled that Lee Gwak had frequently used the alias Lee Jin-mun.

 

“Good heavens! Have we been traveling with… him all this time?”

 

His voice trembled uncontrollably.

***

“Gah…!”

 

A man in his mid-forties coughed up blood; his eyes were wide with shock.

 

A grotesque, curved blade had pierced his back and protruded from his chest. A disheveled martial artist gripped the hilt, staring down at the dying man.

 

“Why…?” the man choked out.

 

He wanted to know—why had he been killed?

 

Why had they attacked his village?

 

Even in death, he needed an answer.

 

But the martial artist’s reply shattered his expectations.

 

“Just because.”

 

“W-what?”

 

“Do you need a reason to kill?”

 

“Y-you… monsters…!”

 

With a final shudder, the man collapsed, dead.

 

The martial artist yanked the blade free and looked around.

 

“Aaaagh!”

 

“P-please… spare me…!”

 

Screams echoed throughout the village.

 

Men clad in red robes looted and slaughtered. Those who resisted were cut down and women were raped.

 

Amid the carnage, the martial artist’s expression remained cold.

 

His name was Jeon Ma-ok.

 

He was the leader of the Red Flames Squad, one of the elite forces of the Celestial Demon Troupe.

 

The Red Flames Squad served on the frontlines of the war against the  Celestial Demon Troupe, specializing in reconnaissance and assassination.

 

Since the war began, they had killed hundreds.

 

The Celestial Demon Troupe’s favorable position in the war was thanks to organizations

like the Red Flame Squad, who risked their lives at the front.

Especially Jeon Ma-ok and his squad, they were always deployed in the most dangerous missions. Over time, they suffered severe mental trauma.

 

Though they were honed to the point of being more weapon than man, they were still human at their core.

 

Years of dangerous missions and constant killing had eaten away at their minds like termites. Many of them developed severe aftereffects, to the point they couldn’t go a day without spilling blood.

 

Go Geom-wol, the sect leader of Celestial Demon Troupe, strictly forbade senseless murder or looting. Anyone who harmed innocents without cause was severely punished.

 

Jeon Ma-ok and his men knew this.

 

But at some point, the bloodlust that surged up and clouded their minds became uncontrollable.

 

Only then did they realize that something in their minds had broken.

 

While waging war for the Celestial Demon Trou, their personal humanity and emotions had been eroded.

 

That’s when they began secretly committing massacres behind Shinmaren’s back.

 

To suppress their unrelenting bloodlust, they began killing innocent civilians unrelated to the martial world.

 

Even now, watching his subordinates kill the innocent, Jeon Ma-ok’s expression didn’t change.

 

This is boring now.

 

At first, he had felt guilt for the people he killed. But now, even that feeling was gone.

 

All he felt was boredom.

 

“Stop… Please…!”

 

The heart-wrenching screams of a nearby woman stirred nothing in him.

 

The looting was nearly over.

 

It was time to clean up and return to the battlefield.

 

Jeon Ma-ok stood and ordered,

 

“That’s enough, bastards. Finish it.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

The Red Flame warriors, who had been enjoying the violence, stood up.

 

A man who had been raping a woman moments ago slit her throat without hesitation.

 

Blood spurted into the air. Her naked body convulsed, and soon her eyes lost all focus.

 

The man adjusted his pants and rejoined Jeon Ma-ok.

 

One by one, over a hundred men gathered.

 

There was no trace of guilt on any of their faces.

 

Jeon Ma-ok addressed them.

 

“Time to return. Clean up and move out.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

The Red Flames Squad set the village on fire.

 

Their rule was simple—leave no survivors, no traces.

 

Flames engulfed everything in moments.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

As Jeon Ma-ok and his men turned to leave—

 

“Stop!”

 

A cold voice rang out.

 

The Red Flames Squad froze.

A skinny man who looked like a bamboo stalk was approaching them with his group.

 

“Oho!”

 

For the first time, a flicker of interest crossed Jeon Ma-ok’s face.

 

Even at first glance, he could tell that this short man had an extraordinary aura.

 

A killing intent sharp as blades, and a hollow presence as if he had seen all the world had to offer.

 

Jeon Ma-ok instantly recognized that this man was just like him.

 

Only those who had devoted their lives to war could carry such an atmosphere.

 

Jeon Ma-ok spoke.

 

“I never expected to meet someone like us in this backwater. Who are you?”

 

“Seo Jong-myeong!”

 

“Seo Jong-myeong?”

 

Jeon Ma-ok frowned at the man’s reply.

 

It was a name he knew.

 

“You mean Seo Jong-myeong, the Lord of Seige Fortress?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Hah! Weren’t you supposed to be dead? I heard Elder Yang finished you off.”

 

“I almost was.”

 

“And yet, here you stand? Seems  Elder Yang wasted his mercy.”

 

Jeon Ma-ok spoke of Yang Gwang-baek, the Lord of True Demon Palace and leader of the Ten Blood Demons, as if he were a washed-up old man.

 

It wasn’t that he truly looked down on Yang Gwang-baek, it was just that Jeon Ma-ok no longer saw anything as significant enough to fear.

 

His gaze swept over the people standing behind Seo Jong-myung.

 

Two adults and a girl who hadn’t yet outgrown her childishness.

 

Among them, one young bladesman caught his eye.

 

From the moment Jeon Ma-ok laid eyes on him, he couldn’t look away, as if his gaze had

been glued in place.

 

“You there! Who are you?”