The monk's eyes had been emptied of all vitality and spirit.
Every ounce of cultivation and internal strength he had painstakingly built over the years had scattered to nothing.
The Quanzhen martial arts that Baek Ho-yang had mastered were the very essence and culmination of Daoist martial arts.
By nature, Daoist martial arts were the direct counter to demonic and heterodox arts — and among them, Quanzhen's stood supreme.
Other sects such as Wudang or Kunlun might rival Quanzhen in breadth, but the depth and philosophy accumulated over nearly a millennium of martial cultivation were beyond their reach.
Following the Quanzhen teachings and breathing correctly led one to the doorstep of the Transcendent Heart Formula.
The Transcendent Heart Formula was broadly divided into five stages, its core principle being the union of self and nature.
Rather than distinguishing between internal and external qi, one became nature itself, allowing qi to flow freely — and thereby gained the ability to command the energies scattered between heaven and earth at will.
This was why, among the countless mental cultivation arts under heaven, the Transcendent Heart Formula could be called the foremost.
The Transcendent Sword Formula was a sword art built upon the foundation of the Transcendent Heart Formula.
Like the Transcendent Heart Formula, the Transcendent Sword Formula was the culmination of all Quanzhen martial arts.
It comprised a total of nine forms, each with distinct characteristics. Among them, the fourth form — the Heart-Shattering Formula — was the natural nemesis of those who had cultivated demonic and heterodox arts, like the monk before him.
Created to sever the heart demon, the Heart-Shattering Formula was optimized for destroying cultivation amassed through dark sorcery.
Dark sorcery and demonic arts were easier to learn and yielded faster results than orthodox martial arts. That was why, in the early stages, demonic arts were far more powerful. But because they were mastered through shortcuts, their foundation was weak and their framework fragile.
Orthodox martial arts, by contrast, required the laying of vast groundwork before one could even begin.
Naturally, the pace of mastery was far slower.
But with such a solid base, progress was unimpeded and unshakable. For this reason, given enough time, orthodox martial arts always came to overwhelm those of the demonic path.
Among orthodox arts, Quanzhen's stood alone — peerlessly strong and deeply profound.
They took lifetimes to master, but once completed, they became the nemesis of every demonic and heretical art in existence.
The monk who had attacked Baek Ho-yang with the Rakshasa Soul-Seizing Hands could not form a single thought.
Every trace of cultivation he had amassed over a lifetime had vanished without a trace, and his reason had gone dim.
This did not mean he had lost his life or been rendered a fool.
He had merely lost every shred of power that had been his foundation, and would be tormented by crushing loss.
Baek Ho-yang looked down at the monk slumped on the floor.
"Do not grieve over what you lost. None of the cultivation you stored in that body was ever truly yours."
It had been internal strength amassed through dark sorcery — by draining the vital essence of others.
What was stolen and claimed as one's own was never one's own to begin with.
Having wielded another's power as though it were his, it was only right that it now be scattered back to nature.
Baek Ho-yang stepped past the monk and ascended the stairs.
A fork appeared midway.
One path was broad and clearly the main corridor. The other was narrow and covert, evidently used in secret.
Baek Ho-yang chose the narrow passage.
After climbing several dozen steps, a small door appeared.
He pushed it open without hesitation.
CREEEAK—!
Beyond the door lay the interior of the main hall.
Massive statues filled the space, but these were not the sort of Buddhist statues most people knew.
They depicted Buddhas and Four Heavenly Kings in obscene congress with women.
The hall reeked not only of incense but of heavy carnal odor.
Proof that men and women had been coupling here just moments ago.
The unexpected sight and stench made Baek Ho-yang frown despite himself.
"To intrude upon the main hall without a shred of fear — you must not value your life. I wonder what the Eighteen Blood Monks are doing, letting an intruder walk right into the sacred hall."
A voice, hoarse as rusted iron, rang out as a young monk draped in crimson robes emerged from the far side of the hall.
He had smooth brown skin without a single wrinkle — a handsome young monk.
Flanking him were two equally beautiful women.
Their garments had slipped below their shoulders, revealing that they had been coupling inside the hall just moments before.
Baek Ho-yang's already deep frown carved itself deeper still.
Something profoundly wrong emanated from the young monk.
His appearance was undeniably youthful, but he carried the scent of an old man.
That distinctive body odor, unique to those who had lived long years, was unmistakable.
Dark sorcery could deceive the eyes, but it could not fully mask the scent of age.
Baek Ho-yang addressed the young monk.
"Are you the master of this temple?"
"I am. I am the Holy Monk, master of this temple."
The young monk made no effort to conceal his identity.
He proclaimed himself the Holy Monk for all to hear.
Such was his confidence in his own martial prowess.
The vast internal strength he had amassed by draining others' vital essence since his days at the Blissful Thunder Serenity Temple allowed him to appear as a young man despite being well past eighty.
The two women at his sides were White Face and Black Blossom — two of the four White Crimson Holy Maidens.
They had transferred the vital essence drained from village men to the Holy Monk through intercourse.
Baek Ho-yang let out a sigh.
"For a heretical cult from the Western Regions to take root so deeply — what were the murim's warriors doing all this time? Our guilt is truly great."
Had the murim been functioning properly, no heretical cult would have been allowed to entrench itself to this degree.
The war between the Heavenly Mandate Society and the Nine Great Sects had thrown the murim's order into disarray, creating gaps in security everywhere.
The remnants of the Blissful Thunder Serenity Temple, led by the Holy Monk, had slipped through those cracks and taken root.
If these poisonous mushrooms were left to fester, they would devour this village and spread across the entire murim.
Baek Ho-yang spoke.
"If you are willing to return to the Western Regions even now, I will let you go. Pack your things and leave at once."
"What gives some old man the right to bark orders at me?"
The Holy Monk scoffed.
He had been an elder of the Blissful Thunder Serenity Temple.
He had possessed considerable martial power to begin with, but since settling in this village, his strength had grown beyond compare.
He had spent years steadily draining vital essence from others.
The same was true of the White Crimson Holy Maidens.
They had not surrendered all the drained vital essence to the Holy Monk. They had kept a portion for themselves and steadily assimilated it.
As a result, their cultivation had grown several times over since their arrival.
At this level, they could pass for peak-level masters in the murim.
Their confidence had reached its zenith.
They feared no master the murim could send.
"The Red Lotus Festival is tomorrow. I will not have some old man ruin it. Eighteen Blood Monks — step forward and subdue him."
"We heed the Holy Monk's command."
The instant the Holy Monk's words left his mouth, seventeen monks who had been standing by outside filed into the hall.
These were the Eighteen Blood Monks.
One was missing, but none gave it a second thought.
"We'll dice your corpse and feed it to the fish, old man!"
"Submit your neck while we're still asking nicely."
The Eighteen Blood Monks radiated murderous pressure as they tightened their encirclement.
Sinister energy poured from the monk's staffs and ritual blades in their hands.
The Holy Monk had no doubt the Eighteen Blood Monks would subdue Baek Ho-yang without difficulty.
He murmured, with White Face and Black Blossom draped on either arm:
"A fine show to enjoy after so long."
His hands slid beneath the two women's robes and kneaded their chests.
"Mmm. With such a spectacle laid before us, I wonder what Scarlet Child and Azure Cold are up to."
"Isn't it obvious? They're hiding in some corner, having their way with the young one. Those wenches always hog the good ones for themselves."
The two women savored the Holy Monk's touch while badmouthing the absent pair.
Having grown up together, their bond was tight — but petty squabbles were just as frequent.
Whenever one pair was absent, the others talked behind their backs.
This time was no different.
Certain that victory was already theirs, they freely maligned the missing two.
That was when the Eighteen Blood Monks attacked in unison.
Crimson energy erupted from their monk's staffs and ritual blades, engulfing Baek Ho-yang.
It was the Eighteen Blood Arhat Formation — the Blissful Thunder Serenity Temple's combined assault formation.
Even with fewer than the full eighteen, it was their most powerful group technique. But this time, their opponent was poorly chosen.
The elderly man of otherworldly bearing before them had faced the Heavenly Mandate Society's leader — the man reputed the mightiest in the realm.
His ability was incomparable to any ordinary master in the murim.
Against such a man, the Eighteen Blood Arhat Formation was useless.
It might look impressive and dangerous on the surface, but its actual power could not even be compared to Shaolin's Eighteen Arhat Formation.
Baek Ho-yang used Flowing Void Steps to evade their assault entirely.
He moved as though riding the wind itself.
Then he followed up with a technique that paired perfectly with Flowing Void Steps.
The Drifting Cloud Formula — the third form of the Transcendent Sword Formula.
Sword qi spread from his sword-finger seal as softly as clouds, severing the formation's lifelines in an instant.
"Grrk!"
"What?"
The backlash from the severed formation slammed into the Blood Monks.
Baek Ho-yang seized the opening and unleashed the Heart-Shattering Formula.
THWACK—! THWACK—!
His sword-finger seal struck monk after monk in the chest in rapid succession.
In the blink of an eye, every one of the Eighteen Blood Monks had fallen to the Heart-Shattering Formula.
The cultivation they had amassed through unconscionable methods scattered like clouds.
"N— no!"
"Good heavens!"
The Blood Monks' eyes flew wide. But there was nothing they could do.
Like rotted logs, their bodies toppled one after another.
Just like that, seventeen monks were subdued in an instant.
"What?"
Stunned by the unbelievable scene, the Holy Monk shoved the maidens aside and glared at Baek Ho-yang.
Baek Ho-yang approached in silence.
Only then did the Holy Monk realize that his opponent possessed martial power far beyond anything he had imagined.
Cold sweat ran down the spines of the Holy Monk and the maidens.
"W— wait! Let us talk."
"That is right. There is no need for us to fight."
"If we talk, we can show you paradise."
They tried belatedly to negotiate, but their words had no effect on Baek Ho-yang.
He had studied Quanzhen's teachings since childhood. The very idea of standing by while those who had amassed impure power in defiance of nature's order went unchecked — that was unthinkable.
Moreover, he had already offered them the chance to return to the Western Regions, and they had spurned it.
He had no further reason to exchange words with them.
"On heaven's behalf, I shall return the power you stole to the natural world."
Realizing that no amount of talk would save them, the Holy Monk's eyes blazed with a crimson light.
"To spurn the offered cup and choose the penalty instead."
The Holy Monk clenched his teeth and unleashed the Blood Heaven Demon Art.
It was the Blissful Thunder Serenity Temple's most powerful martial art, built upon the internal strength amassed through the Blood Essence Absorption Art.
In the Western Regions, insufficient cultivation had prevented him from completing this technique. But after settling in this village and diligently draining vital essence, he had finally brought it to fruition.
KWAAAA—!
A tidal wave of energy surged toward Baek Ho-yang.
But Baek Ho-yang did not so much as blink. He walked straight into the torrent of energy.
"Though storms blow and shake me, a steadfast heart alone suffices. What more could one need?"
To Baek Ho-yang's eyes, the currents of the Blood Heaven Demon Art were visible — raging like a tempest.
He slipped between the currents and closed the distance to the Holy Monk.
He looked like a salmon swimming against the river's flow.
"Madness!"
"W— we have to run!"
The maidens at the Holy Monk's side panicked and tried to flee. But they could not escape Baek Ho-yang's reach.
This entire space was Baek Ho-yang's domain.
He swatted at them as casually as one might wave away flies.
His sword-finger seal struck the Holy Monk squarely in the heart and the two women in their qi centers.
In that instant, every ounce of cultivation they had built through heretical arts shattered.
Feeling their power vanish, they screamed.
"N— no!"
"AAARGH!"
"AAAIIEEEE!"
The moment the cultivation sustaining their youth vanished, time — which had stood still — rushed forward with a vengeance.
Age descended upon them.
Taut skin shriveled in an instant, and dozens of wrinkles engulfed their faces and bodies.
And so the Holy Monk and the maidens were struck squarely by decades of years they had cheated.
Such was the punishment Baek Ho-yang delivered to those who had built their power through unconscionable means.