Chapter 335: Return to the Demonic Sect

Step by step, Sabigang trudged along the muddy path.

The rain fell in a steady rhythm, each drop sizzling against his skin with a sharp sting.

He looked up at the sky, its clouds tinged with a sickly green hue. The rain, too, was a poisonous green.

For a year now, this toxic rain had been falling, as if heralding the end of the world. As Sabigang wandered through the lands, he rarely encountered other survivors. And when he did, they were so consumed by suspicion that exchanging even a single word was nearly impossible.

Those he had met—were they still alive? Most likely not. The rain poisoned the wells, the rivers were filled with dead fish, and even the hardiest weeds withered and died. It was a world where survival was a struggle.

“How did it come to this?” Sabigang pondered as he continued his weary march. His memories were hazy, only clear from about a year ago when the toxic rain began. If only he could remember what life was like before this cursed world fell apart.

Lost in thought, he descended a slope and spotted a river flowing in the distance. The water was a deep green, and the sight of it made his throat feel even drier. He took out his canteen and drank sparingly, knowing how precious clean water had become.

The water in his canteen was a miracle, found days ago in a hidden spring on an unnamed mountain. By the riverbank, a house leaned precariously, as if ready to collapse. Sabigang glanced at the sky and decided to take shelter there until the rain stopped.

The door creaked open with a grating sound, revealing an interior in disarray. He wasn’t curious about what had happened here; it was the same story everywhere. Since the world began to show signs of its end, people had succumbed to madness, turning on each other. In the face of extreme crisis, they chose solitary survival over collective effort, with disastrous results. The poison that consumed the world was less terrifying than humanity itself.

Sabigang settled into a chair by the window, watching the toxic rain fall. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the room, and someone lunged at him from the shadows. Instinctively, Sabigang struck out, but stopped short upon realizing it was a person.

“Please, just a sip of water! Please…!” The man clung to Sabigang’s leg, his face covered in blisters from severe poisoning. His hair was patchy, and the whites of his eyes were jaundiced. He was clearly not long for this world, yet he clung desperately to Sabigang’s clothes, as if grasping at straws.

“Even if you drink, you’ll die,” Sabigang said.

“No! I won’t die! Damn it, give me the water…!”

With a swift motion, Sabigang ended the man’s suffering. The man’s head burst like a melon, and he died instantly.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone alive,” Sabigang muttered, brushing off his hands. The rain had stopped, and there was no reason to linger.

“Where to next?” he wondered aloud as he left the building. The river, still a deep green, flowed steadily. He leaned over to see his reflection in the water, and something else caught his eye—a pendant nestled at his collarbone.

It was a skull pendant, Cranion. Its twisted features seemed to scream silently. Though he remembered nothing else, the name Cranion was etched in his memory. He had no idea how long it had been embedded in his body, but he guessed about a year. It felt like a part of him now.

Just then, the eyes of the Cranion glowed red, sending a strange vibration through him. Sabigang sighed, furrowing his brow.

“Enough already,” he muttered, standing up. As he turned, he saw something approaching through the grass. The door of the dilapidated building creaked open, and the man he had just killed staggered out, his head still shattered.

Anyone else witnessing this would have been terrified, but Sabigang merely looked weary. It was a sight he had grown accustomed to.

“So, you’re back,” he said, extending his hand. A sword hilt flew through the broken window into his grasp. Sabigang surveyed the area with a cold gaze.

From all around, skeletal figures began to emerge, their eyes glowing red. Sabigang focused his energy into his left hand, but the power dissipated, absorbed by the Cranion.

“Of course…” he thought. The cursed Cranion prevented him from using his mana. But he could still convert it to inner strength.

The undead charged at him with beastly cries. Sabigang moved like lightning, his sword flashing as he cut them down. These undead were stronger and faster than ordinary humans, but he could handle them.

“For now,” he thought, conserving his energy as he fought. After about a quarter of an hour, the ground was littered with the remains of the undead, no longer a threat.

Breathing deeply, Sabigang turned, eyeing the wide river. He’d need a raft to cross it. But then, a powerful vibration emanated from the Cranion, causing him to stagger.

“Damn it!” he cursed, turning to see a dark figure on the hill. The figure wore a red cloak and had a skull-like face, its features twisted like the Cranion.

“Natas…” Sabigang whispered. The demon that had pursued him for a year.

Natas’s voice boomed across the land. “Fugitive, cease your meaningless resistance.”

“Meaningless or not, stop following me. I’m sick of it,” Sabigang retorted with a bitter smile.

Natas’s eyes narrowed, and he rose into the air, his posture eerily rigid. Crows, half-decayed and reeking, gathered around him.

Finally, a horde of undead appeared on the hill, their eyes glowing red, exuding a toxic aura. Natas, floating above, declared, “If you’re tired of this, let’s end it now.”

With a wave of his hand, the undead army surged forward like a tidal wave. Sabigang gripped his sword, growling like a beast.

“I’ll destroy you until nothing remains!” he roared, launching himself into the fray, his blade flashing once more.

As Ryu Yeo-jung entered the tent, he immediately gauged Heo Mu-geuk’s mood.

Heo Mu-geuk didn’t utter a word upon seeing Ryu Yeo-jung. It was a reaction reserved for when he was truly angry.

Several days had already passed, yet the color of the Sehonpokmyeolgo poison hadn’t changed at all. This meant the poison planted in Hong-myo’s body was still active. And that meant…

“The leader of the Jeongdo Alliance is still very much alive.”

The words that escaped Heo Mu-geuk’s lips were as heavy as iron. Ryu Yeo-jung, more tense than ever, responded cautiously.

“I’ve sent someone swift. We should hear back soon.”

“One thing is certain. By now, something must have gone wrong.”

“It’s too early to say for sure…”

Ryu Yeo-jung started to speak but swallowed his words. Heo Mu-geuk simply stared at him in silence. The gaze, devoid of any malice, made it hard for Ryu Yeo-jung to breathe.

Finally, Heo Mu-geuk spoke in a grave tone. “There are bound to be many opinions in the military ranks, but it’s best to hold your tongue for now.”

”…I’m sorry.”

“What about the Ma-ryeong Sect?”

“They’re currently engaged in a meaningless war of attrition with the allied forces. The Jeongdo Alliance is also delegating many responsibilities to its branches, so they’re not actively pursuing the Ma-ryeong Sect.”

“And the Sinseongjo?”

“It seems they’ve headed towards the main base of the Jeongdo Alliance.”

Heo Mu-geuk closed his eyes in contemplation. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. It could be an opportunity to brand Ong Gi-seung and Gu Gang-ryong as traitors. He had laid the groundwork with Ong Gi-seung long ago for such a scenario.

Ryu Yeo-jung took a deep breath before continuing. “We’ve confirmed once again that the Ma-ryeong Sect will cooperate with us as soon as we receive word from the Jeongdo Alliance’s main base.”

“That news can’t come too late. If this war of attrition drags on, the Jeongdo Alliance might start to suspect something.”

“I understand.”

Ryu Yeo-jung bowed deeply, pondering to himself, ‘What on earth is happening to Hong-myo?’