A carefully crafted wooden idol stood in the center of a dark tent. It resembled a beast in torment, more like a demon than a god.
Every time the nearby candles flickered, the long shadow cast by the idol swayed across the tent's walls. The sight was eerie, like a beast struggling to break free from the darkness.
A strange chanting filled the space, the voices heavy and clinging to the air, making the atmosphere ominously thick.
Amidst it all, a man slowly approached the idol. He chanted an odd verse continuously as he extended a bizarre offering vessel forward. It was a large circular vessel, intricately designed with intertwined animals, almost resembling the word "sacrifice."
The vessel slowly tilted over the idol, and seventeen streams of blood poured down, staining the idol red.
The murmured chanting turned into a full song.
"Aaaaaahhhh!"
It was endlessly solemn and haunting. A unique, bizarre ritual unfolded—unlike anything seen before.
The Blood Sect leader, standing at the center of the ceremony, moved with extreme caution. What might appear to be a simple act of pouring blood over the idol was, in fact, a meticulous process. Every movement had to be precise, with no room for error.
Whoosh.
At that moment, a gust of wind caused the tent to flutter, and the Blood Sect leader narrowed his eyes as he held the vessel.
"Aaaaaahhh!"
The strained song reached its climax, and the blood flowing from the vessel came to a halt.
After letting the last drop of blood fall, the Blood Sect leader carefully retracted his hand. He completed the ritual with reverence, then knelt before the idol, raising both palms.
With the ceremony finished, he cautiously retreated.
Though the idol was exquisitely crafted, it was still just a wooden figure—neither ancient nor particularly remarkable. But to the Blood Sect leader, the idol housed the deity he revered, and he had performed the ritual with his entire soul.
Finally, the leader turned his head. The once reverent look in his eyes now burned with a sudden crimson light.
Step.
He moved forward, heading toward one of the cult members who had been assisting with the ritual from a corner of the tent.
Realizing the Blood Sect leader was approaching, the cultist's face turned pale.
"C-Cult Leader...?"
"Do you know what a Blood Sacrifice is?"
A chilling red glow flickered in the Blood Sect leader's eyes.
Sweat began to pour from the cultist's body like rain. The Blood Sacrifice was one of the most important rituals in their sect. No cultist could be ignorant of its meaning.
The significance of the leader's question was clear.
"It is the place where those unworthy, driven to despair, attempt to prove their faith."
"F-Forgive me! Please, forgive me..."
Crack!
The Blood Sect leader's long fingers wrapped around the cultist's neck, piercing through it.
"G-Grrgh..."
"And yet, here you are—a pitiful fool, allowing a mere gust of wind to shake your faith and defile this sacred place."
There was no emotion in his voice, but any cultist would know the immense fury seething beneath his words.
Drip, drip.
Blood trickled from the cultist's neck, dripping onto the ground. Though he tried to pry the leader's hand from his throat, the Blood Sect leader remained indifferent, as if watching an insect struggle beneath his foot.
Snap.
Finally, the leader's fingers crushed the cultist's neck. The man's head lolled as his body went limp.
Thud.
The lifeless body hit the ground, and the Blood Sect leader's eyes flashed with a chilling glow.
"Clean this up."
"Yes, sir!"
"Make sure not a single drop of that filthy blood remains here."
"I will see to it personally."
After glaring at the kneeling cultists, the leader turned to face the idol, now half-covered in blood.
He stared at the idol for a long time before finally leaving the tent. Before he had taken many steps, someone quickly followed behind him.
"Cult Leader."
The Blood Sect leader glanced to his side.
The man who had approached was one of the three elders of the sect, the Third Elder. His expression was grim and heavy.
"After waiting so long to perform the Blood Sacrifice, we should celebrate, but this might also cause us trouble."
The leader's gaze darkened.
"You mean the sacrifices?"
"You're aware of the situation."
Paegun Jang Ilso had forbidden any harm to civilians. Since they had to fight their enemies, there was no need to antagonize the common people and risk alienating them.
Though the reason was trivial, the order had been given in Paegun's name.
The problem was that the blood for the Blood Sacrifice could only be taken from the hearts of young boys and girls.
"But the ritual couldn't be skipped."
"Still..."
The Blood Sect leader turned sharply to face the elder.
"So are you suggesting we should have denied the deity even the sacrifices that rightfully belong to him?"
"The deity would have understood. He is merciful."
"It's people who take advantage of that mercy."
"Cult Leader..."
"There's no need for further discussion. What's done is done."
The Third Elder sighed heavily. The leader wasn't wrong. What could be done after the fact? If it could have been prevented, that would have been one thing, but now it was too late.
Trying to shake off his heavy mood, the Third Elder spoke again.
"We should keep an eye on the movements of the Evil Tyrant Alliance."
The Blood Sect leader's eyes twitched.
"Don't forget. This is our only chance to step foot on the white lands of Zhongyuan again. If the Evil Tyrant Alliance doesn't win this time, we'll be forced into silence for yet another long era."
"If the Evil Tyrant Alliance doesn't win?"
"...Cult Leader?"
"It won't be because of them. It'll be because we lacked strength. Or perhaps... courage?"
"Cult Leader! What do you mean by that?"
"I'll go ahead."
The Blood Sect leader snapped his gaze forward and moved, but his anger forced him to speak one more time.
"And remember this. Whether we win or lose, the outcome won't change."
"What do you mean by that, Cult Leader?"
The leader walked away without answering.
'Old fools...'
He clenched his fists.
Those who were supposed to be fortified by their faith had turned their backs on the white lands and fled, too afraid to face disaster.
As a result, their god had lost his rightful place and was denied the reverence he deserved.
Even the Blood Sacrifice was little more than offering a dying man salt water to keep him alive. And yet they trembled in fear of even that.
The once-great Blood Sect, once feared across the world, now felt as though nothing of it remained.
His heart sank heavily.
Anger boiled inside him, but on the other hand, he understood why the Third Elder had spoken as he did.
'Where did it all go wrong?'
When they first allied with the Evil Tyrant Alliance, the sect's plan had been different.
The Evil Tyrant Alliance would completely seize control of the southern regions, and along the Yangtze River, they would oppose the Heavenly Comrade Alliance. In return, the sect would gain its rightful territory.
If the plan had gone smoothly, the cult would have achieved their long-cherished dream of entering the Central Plains by now. Unlike the orthodox factions, they can coexist with those who live differently.
'Jang Ilso….'
The tide began to turn when Paegun Jang Ilso crossed the Yangtze River and advanced toward the northern territories. Those who possess something valuable usually fight tooth and nail to protect it—that's the norm. But Jang Ilso was different. Like a ravenous beast, he cast away what he had and craved more, seeking out the enemy's land.
As a result, 'coexistence' was now impossible. If they lost this war, the demonic factions of the Central Plains would be wiped out, and the cult would once again face a long period of suffering. It was inevitable, as the cult alone could not stand against the entire orthodox world.
Though it was not their intention, somehow, the cult's fate had become intertwined with the Evil Tyrant Alliance.
'Did he know this would happen from the beginning? Or….'
The image of Jang Ilso's wicked grin flashed in the mind of the Blood Cult Leader. Yes, he must have known. None of this was by chance. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the entire cult had danced in the palm of Jang Ilso's hand. The elders' wariness of him was only natural.
'But still….'
- Choose.
The Blood Cult Leader chuckled softly.
Even Jang Ilso could not have predicted this. This was truly a natural disaster. A bolt of lightning from a clear sky is not something humans can foresee. Even the Blood Cult Leader was no exception. All he could do was howl and groan.
A choice, huh…?
Would they face immediate destruction or live a little longer as a dog? Could such a decision even be called a choice when the end result was the same either way?
The Blood Cult Leader's eyes gleamed once again.
'If there is no path, I'll have to create one.'
Until that opportunity arrived, he had no choice but to play the part of the dog. It was the highest form of devotion he could offer to a displaced god.
The Blood Cult Leader's eyes glinted with madness.
Of course, that didn't mean he was content with this situation. His anger, built up over time, was looking for an outlet. Perhaps the reason he had taken a cultist's life for losing faith was merely because he needed to vent his pent-up rage.
"Leader."
At that moment, a cultist clad in a dark red robe approached him quickly.
"Has Paegun moved?"
The Blood Cult Leader's expression darkened as he thought of Jang Ilso. There was no need to fear him. Now that it was clear Jang Ilso could not change the cult's fate, there was even less reason to fear.
But even knowing that, the fear remained. After all, it was Jang Ilso's madness that had driven the cult to this desperate situation. His boundless insanity, something not even those trained in demonic arts could match.
The cult was already groaning under the weight of that madness.
"No, sir."
"Then?"
"It's about the Heavenly Comrade Alliance…"
The cultist quickly relayed what he had heard, causing the Blood Cult Leader's eyes to darken further.
"Is it him…?"
"Yes."
"How amusing."
The Blood Cult Leader glanced down at his hands.
They were stained with the blood of seventeen young boys and girls from the sacrificial rite, along with the blood of the cultist.
"Still hungry, are you?"
"…What?"
"The best offering is the blood of our enemies. The heart of one who has insulted the cult should temporarily satisfy the hunger of the one we've lost."
His blood-soaked fingers twitched slightly.
"Are you going to go in person?"
"It should make for decent amusement."
"But… Paegun…"
The cultist trailed off, clearly worried that if the Blood Cult Leader acted, it would be seen as defying Paegun's orders to hold position.
The Blood Cult Leader frowned.
"There is only one person who can command me."
"My apologies."
The bandaged face of the Blood Cult Leader twisted slightly.
The cult does not forgive its enemies. They will be hunted to the ends of the earth, and their hearts will be torn out.
The reason they can do this is simple. Of the millions of people in the world, every single one has a unique blood scent. If they set their minds to it, finding one mere boy would be no problem.
And this task… was something else he had to carry out.
Without blinking, the Blood Cult Leader turned his gaze toward the most grand and ornate tent in the distance.
The luxurious tent that only the leader of the Evil Tyrant Alliance could use. As he stared at it, a faint smirk formed on the Blood Cult Leader's lips.
"Summon the cultists."
The cultist's eyes widened. It wasn't every day that the Blood Cult Leader took action himself, but for him to also summon the cultists? That would make this even bigger.
"Did you not hear me?"
"N-No, I'll summon them right away."
The cultist quickly disappeared. The Blood Cult Leader narrowed his eyes.
- Do what you desire. As you will.
A chuckle, like a cough, escaped his lips.
Desire, huh…?
Did they think they knew what he wanted?
The funny thing was, the Blood Cult Leader did understand the meaning behind those vague words.
"Gratitude would be more fitting."
If they pushed him this far, he had no choice but to indulge in a dance of swords.
Soon, everyone would know.
Those who had enjoyed false peace, those who had recklessly flaunted their power—they would all feel it.
The wrath of one who had been displaced, the presence of one who had once painted the world red. And… the deep resentment of those who had upheld his will.
Baek Cheon, was it?
"The beginning… starts with the blood of that enemy."
The Blood Cult Leader's eyes gleamed darkly through his bandages, radiating a grim, ominous madness—the madness of someone who had nothing left to lose.