Chapter 419: Chapter 419

Baek Suryong stared blankly as the sins of his past life unfolded one after another before his eyes.

"Instructor... Please, please..."

"Please forgive me just once..."

Instructor 27's training methods were brutal. The children's bodies trembled with pain, and tears streamed down their faces as they wept. Their bruised skin and open wounds meant that the smell of blood permeated their dorms daily. Still, he felt not even a shred of pity for the trainees.

"Get up! Do it from the beginning again."

The trainees despaired at their endless torment. Eventually, they staggered to their feet and glared at their teacher, their eyes blazing with killing intent. Young as they were, they too were martial artists of the Blood Cult.

"Good. That's the spirit. You're finally becoming somewhat useful."

Number 27 was the most outstanding martial arts instructor in the Blood Cult, and his trainees were the most talented children. So much would have been different if they had formed a normal master-disciple bond. Unfortunately, their fates were sealed from the moment they first met.

During the first year, the trainees tried to kill their instructor several times. Each time, Number 27 trampled them expressionlessly. He imparted his teachings by carving one indelible scar after another onto each of their bodies.

"You think this is unfair? Then get stronger. If you don't want to be beaten helplessly or die like insignificant bugs, then toughen up. That is the only option you have."

Ironically, these words were directed at himself. Whenever he faced the trainees who grew stronger day by day while enduring hellish training, he felt as if a blade was creeping toward his neck.

The day you damn brats master your martial arts, I will be disposed of.

Number 27 loathed this job. He despised teaching trainees who might one day kill him. Nevertheless, he had to do his best because the Demonic Strategist frequently visited the dorms to oversee their training.

After living together in the dorms for three years, Number One, who had been chosen to inherit the Sword Saint's Unlimited Sword, asked weakly, "...Instructor, what will happen to us if we give up?"

Baek Suryong shuddered. The moment he saw that desperate expression again, he knew what the boy wanted to hear.

He wanted me to tell him that it's okay to rest a little.

However, Number 27 sneered coldly. "The Cult has plenty of replacements for you. You'll be abandoned and left to die... discarded like worthless trash."

The desperate light in the boy's eyes dimmed. He hoisted his heavily scarred body to his feet and began swinging his sword again.

"Kekeke! Those kids are starting to look more and more like their instructor."

"They still have a long way to go."

The Demonic Strategist periodically stopped by the dorms to check on the trainees' progress. If Number 27 was in charge of the trainees' physical and martial arts training, then he was responsible for their indoctrination and brainwashing. Orıginal content can be found at novelꞁire.net

"Today, you will learn about the history of our Cult and the greatness of the Cult Leader."

Creating human weapons who were blindly loyal to the Blood Cult was the Demonic Strategist's specialty , and he didn't spare any means to achieve his goals, including resorting to sorcery and drugs. Since these trainees were learning the ultimate martial arts, they were subject to the most extreme brainwashing.

"The more dangerous the hunting dog, the tighter you must pull its leash. Isn't that right?"

Number 27 nodded as he stared indifferently at the trainees sitting cross-legged with vacant expressions.

The scenery changed again and again. Some were blurry, while others flashed by quickly.

Day turned to night, and the seasons passed. Swords that were once new became chipped. Old martial arts uniforms grew frayed. Over time, even the furnishings in the dorms and training grounds became worn.

The trainees grew much taller, their limbs lengthening and their voices deepening. They experienced puberty, and the once-immature boys and girls became apathetic adults.

Baek Suryong observed this transformation through Number 27's eyes. Many times, he desperately wanted to look away, but he gritted his teeth and witnessed every single moment. He felt he had to. He owed these children that much.

I turned you into monsters... with my own hands.

And so he watched as all traces of human emotion were eradicated from the trainees' eyes. As they became mindless weapons of the Blood Cult, carrying out orders without question.

He looked down at his hands, which were as red as blood. He couldn't tell if they had been red from the beginning, or if they had been stained red by the trainees' blood.

...I was an irredeemable monster.

Little by little, he forgot who he was.

"Bwahahaha! Today's meat side dish is truly satisfying!" Master Maeng exclaimed, his booming voice echoing through the underground prison.

Master Crazy Demon, who had been eating quietly with his chopsticks, sighed and glared at the next cell. "Shut up! Are you going to take responsibility if your frivolous voice leaks outside the prison?"

"Crazy Demon. How deep do you think this fucking prison is? There's no way any sound will leak out. Seriously, you're as timid as a little girl..."

"When we escape the Blood Cult, I'm going to stitch up your damn mouth."

"Fufu! You really want to go at it? Fine. When we get out of here, I'll tie you to a tree and spank your backside."

"You vulgar bastard...!"

Today as always, Masters Maeng and Crazy Demon snarled at each other like a rabid dog and an angry monkey. The other masters ate their lunches quietly, accustomed to such a scene.

"Sword Saint, please help me tame this ruffian!" Master Crazy Demon cried out. He was clearly no match for Master Maeng when it came to eloquence.

The Sword Saint laughed jovially, "Hohoho! Who in the world could possibly shut that mouth?"

"See, crazy guy? At least our Big Bro here knows how things stand. Even in my younger days, there was no one in the murim who could beat me at Trash-Talk Arts."

"Hoho! I'm sure that's true..."

While this was going on, Master Eun ate alone quietly, using her ice arts to chill the fruit wine her disciple had brought.

From his cell, Master Maeng spotted what she had done. Eyes wide, he pressed himself right up against the iron bars, looking ready to break them.

"Youngest! Cool this Orabeoni's drink, too!"

"Ice Moon Goddess! Please! I beg of you!"

Master Eun scoffed and extended a finger. A chill spread, forming a thin layer of ice on Master Maeng's cup.

Master Maeng was so moved that tears welled up in his tiger-like eyes. "Boohoohoo! Cold liquor! How many years has it been? To live long is to enjoy such luxuries!"

"If we fail to escape, it'll all be that guy's fault."

Ten years had changed many things. At first, the masters in the prison hadn't said a word to each other. Now, they conversed freely and had learned a lot about each other.

Master Maeng emptied his liquor bottle in an instant. Licking his lips, he looked at Number 27. "Hey, punk. Got any more liquor?"

"You've already finished all there is. D'you know how much trouble I went through just to smuggle that in?" Number 27 grumbled, looking up from his training and glaring at his master.

Master Maeng smacked his lips. "Tsk! This might be the last drink I ever have. It would've been nice if you'd brought a little more."

"Stop saying such unlucky things, and take good care of your body. The day we escape this hellhole isn't far off."

"Fufufu! Don't worry. My body is in peak condition right now."

In a few days, they planned to escape from the Blood Cult. Despite being martial artists who had reached the pinnacle, even they found it difficult to maintain their composure as the moment they had waited for over ten years approached. Engaging in banter was one way to calm their nerves.

"Hey, punk...when we get out of here..."

No matter how much they had prepared, failure was still possible, and failure meant certain death. In any case, the masters would choose death over being captured a second time.

Still, if even just a few of the five could escape this place alive, no, if even just one of them could...

Bearing such thoughts in mind, the masters had exchanged their final words while Number 27 wasn't around.

Number 27 sensed all his masters looking at him oddly and sighed. "What are you getting at?"

Master Maeng grinned. "Actually, we tried to come up with a name for you when you weren't around."

"...A name? What's this all of a sudden?" Number 27 tilted his head in confusion.

Master Maeng clicked his tongue. Somehow, he had expected this reaction. "When you escape the Blood Cult, you'll need a proper name, won't you? Are you going to introduce yourself as Number 27 outside?"

"That's..." Number 27 hesitated. This was an issue he had never once considered. He had always thought only of escape, but he had never concretely pictured the life that lay ahead once he was free.

In contrast, it seemed his masters had thought about what kind of life their disciple should lead.

"So I thought about it. What do you think about Maeng Ryonghwi?"

"Why the Maeng surname, of all things?"

"Because I'm going to adopt you, that's why."

"......" Number 27 was at a loss for words.

Master Maeng's adopted son.

Not only had he never imagined it, but he also didn't know how to respond.

Just then, the Sword Saint interjected, "If you don't like the Maeng surname, how about Moyong Jeong?"

"...Are you saying you'll adopt me too, Master Sword Saint?" Number 27 asked, dazed.

The Sword Saint smiled gently. "If you're okay with it, I would like that. I think our Dan would also love having a brother like you."

"This is too sudden..."

"Ahem! How about Hyonwon Mugeuk?" Master Crazy Demon cleared his throat slightly apologetically. "Though, I first have to return to the Hyonwon Clan and ask for forgiveness, so I can't promise anything.... That said, if it's okay with you, I'd like to accept you as a member of my family."

"No, wait a minute..."

Master Eun mumbled awkwardly, "Uhm... the North Sea won't permit me to adopt you, no matter how hard I try to persuade them, but... I can help you choose a better name than these three."

Number 27 looked at his masters, who were suddenly trying to name him, with a rare, flustered expression.

They smiled back at him. He was the disciple who had mastered all of their martial arts in just ten years. Although he hadn't perfected them because of his condition, his understanding of their martial arts was already on par with their own.

Since there was nothing more they could give him in terms of martial arts, they wanted to give him a name as a final gift.

Feeling a strange, ticklish sensation on his skin, Number 27 mumbled, "I'll decide on a name after we get out of here. It's not urgent, so don't rush me."

The masters chuckled and nodded.

Suddenly, the Sword Saint asked, "What will you do about those children?"

"The ones who learned martial arts from you, our granddisciples."

"......" Number 27's expression hardened. His four masters surely knew that he hated discussing this topic. However, it seemed that this was a conversation they absolutely needed to have before escaping the Blood Cult. Frowning, he snapped, "What about them?"

"Can't you persuade them to leave with us?"

"That's impossible. Those kids have already been brainwashed by the Demonic Strategist into becoming mindless puppets."

"Are you certain? Since they learned our martial arts, there's no way they cant resist evil arts."

"You haven't seen the kind of vicious brainwashing they've been subjected to. If the kids find out that I'm a traitor, they'll report me to the Demonic Strategist without a second thought."

The masters took turns asking questions about the kids, to which Number 27 replied defensively and shook his head.

"You fool! You've got nothing to lose!" Master Maeng roared. "I'm not telling you to persuade them to leave with us. If you have any last words for them, then say it now! Otherwise, you'll regret it later."

True to his simple and straightforward personality, he told his disciple to just go and talk to the trainees.

Number 27 hesitated for a long while before letting out a self-deprecating laugh. "...My last words to them, huh? Yeah, I suppose I do have something I want to tell them."

Translator's Note: I have a cold, so there will be fewer chapters this weekend. Fyi, Ryonghwi means "resplendent dragon", Jeong means "righteous", and Mugeuk means "unlimited". Most kids would not appreciate those names.