After the young martial artists had been knocked unconscious, the cavern grew colder. Their bodies lay scattered across the ground like fallen prey, each one bound with restrictive meridian-sealing ropes and a sack like rag covered their heads, restricting their view incase they happened to wake up.
It was finally time to move them.
Every second mattered; depending on their talent and cultivation foundations, some of them could wake far sooner than expected.
A group of lower-ranked guards stood at the entrance, unease crawling under their skin. Curiosity flickered in their eyes like dying candlelight.
"Why are we even moving them again?" one muttered under his breath. "They were already secured, and it's only been four months since the last relocation…"
Another guard nodded, voice tight. "I don't get it either. We never move this quickly. Not until at least the second year. Something's wrong—."
The echo of a single heavy footstep silenced them.
A shadow approached, robed in deeper black than the cavern itself. His presence alone bent the air; inner qi radiated off him like a suffocating tide, crushing down on the weaker guards without mercy.
"You two…" His voice cut through the cavern like a blade. "Is your rank so low that you've grown comfortable enough to gossip?"
Both men stiffened. His gaze alone was enough to make their knees soften.
"Use your mouths less," the man growled, "and your hands more. Move them. Now."
"Y-Yes, Senior!" one guard blurted, spine snapping straight like a frightened dog.
But the other was bolder—or perhaps simply slower to fear. "Senior, we meant no disrespect. We were only wondering—"
He never finished.
The Senior stepped closer, the ground trembling faintly beneath his feet. "You wonder too much," he said coldly. "If you have enough free time to question orders, I'll happily shove your curiosity back up your ass. Maybe that will teach you which part of your body you should be using."
A chill ran down both guards' backs.
They shook their heads rapidly, unable to form words.
The Senior clicked his tongue, lowering his voice only slightly, though the weight behind it remained crushing.
"The hostage search parties from the Orthodox Sects are getting too close. If we keep the children here, they'll find this cavern within a day." His eyes glinted with irritation. "We move them to the Northern Cavern before that happens. That is the reason."
The bolder guard swallowed hard. "So… that's why."
"Did you think we were moving them for exercise?" The Senior scoffed. "Idiots. Now move. The longer you stand here flapping your lips, the closer our enemies come."
"We understand!" the first guard said quickly. "We'll move them immediately!"
"Good." The Senior turned away. "And try not to drop anyone this time. If I see even one bruise that wasn't already there, I'll throw you in with them."
They bowed deeply until the sound of his footsteps faded into the darkness.
Only then did one guard exhale shakily.
"…Let's just shut up and get back to work."
"Yeah," the other whispered. "Before he comes back and skins us alive."
With trembling hands, they hurriedly lifted the unconscious young martial artists and resumed the relocation under the suffocating silence of the cavern.
****
Although most of the children were already unconscious with their inner Qi sealed, Hyeolmu remained awake… awake, yet completely immobile.
His senses were dulled and his body felt unbearably heavy, but the faint echoes of voices still slipped through the cave walls. Even with the blindfold covering his eyes, he could piece together the situation well enough.
That aura from earlier—the suffocating pressure that rolled through the cavern, crushing the weaker guards—
Hyeolmu recognized it instantly.
That was definitely Red Mask's aura. There's no one else in this cave who carries that level of strength.
No wonder they're panicking.
As the guards rushed around, their footsteps frantic and uneven, another thought surfaced in his mind.
If they're running this urgently just because the Murim Alliance is getting close… then the Demonic Cult's situation must be far worse than they've been pretending.
The conflict between the Demonic Cult and the Murim Alliance hadn't quieted at all—
it was still raging, still swallowing people whole.
And if just the presence of the Alliance is enough to force a relocation… then the Cult is losing ground.
A faint bitterness tugged at him.
So we'll be thrown into the battlefield sooner than expected. I need to grow stronger before then… I can't afford to die this early in the story. Not when I still have revenge to take.
He exhaled softly through the cloth.
I wonder where they're taking us… Listening alone isn't enough. If only I could use my inner Qi, I'd be able to sense the surroundings. I could even "see" through the blindfold.
Hyeolmu lay motionless, listening to the guards move the others.
His limbs were dead weight, his meridians sealed shut… but inside the silence of his own body, he noticed something.
A faint warmth.
Not in his meridians — but in his blood.
Right… my Qi doesn't rely solely on the meridian paths.
Blood Demonic Art… it flows through the bloodstream as well.
The Cult had sealed his main Qi channels, but they hadn't considered this.
They couldn't.
Hyeolmu drew a slow, shaky breath.
If I can guide even a single drop of Qi through the blood… then I can move it. Even if the meridians are blocked.
He focused.
Harder than he'd ever focused before.
At first, nothing happened.
The blood felt sluggish, heavy, like it was resisting him.
Minutes crawled by in silence.
He pushed again.
And again.
And again.
His heart throbbed painfully. Sweat dampened the cloth over his eyes.
Ten minutes passed.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Then—
A spark.
A single thread of warmth slithered through his veins like a thin line of fire.
His breath trembled.
There…! Move… move… keep moving—
Thirteen minutes in, the thread erupted.
His blood roared, surging with awakened Qi, bypassing his sealed meridians entirely. Power flooded his limbs, faint but unmistakable.
A breakthrough.
His Blood Qi senses sharpened instantly, the darkness behind the blindfold no longer empty but outlined with shapes, warmth, movement.
He could "see" again.
And more importantly—
I broke through.
Now i can still fight… even with my meridians sealed. A small, determined smile formed beneath the cloth.
To be continued...