Chapter 48 : Chapter 48

Chapter 48. It Seems This Won’t End Quietly (1)

“Hahaha. As someone without a son, I am quite envious. I feel like I’d want to raise him myself.”

“Really?”

“Hmm?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was Baron Schneider, hastily mumbling his words.

For a moment, he had been tempted.

But setting aside his son who was giving him a ‘what is this old man saying’ look, he couldn't do such a terrible thing to the Margrave of the East, Count Parmas.

“Ahem, well, first I must express my gratitude. Young Patrick. Thanks to you, my daughter is safe. I express my gratitude as a father.”

“It was nothing. But about that assailant…”

“Hmm, you mean the scion of the Baron Malcom family?”

“I don’t know the family, but was he always like that?”

“There are many young nobles in the East who adore my daughter. You could say it’s practically all of them.”

‘Count me out.’

Patrick wanted to say, but Count Parmas' pride in his daughter was immense.

His expression was full of sincerity, as if it was only natural for any man to be captivated by his daughter.

“But no matter how charming my daughter is, there has never been anyone who dared to do such a thing. Do you know why?”

“Because you, my Lord Count, protected the young lady thoroughly.”

“Hahaha. That’s right. If you have a treasure, isn’t it natural to guard it strictly?”

“……”

Yes. Yes. Your daughter is very pretty.

In your eyes, that is.

“But although the scion of the Baron Malcom family did adore my daughter, this is the first time something like this has happened. In fact, according to the testimony of those around him, the son of the Baron Malcom family had a timid personality and didn't even have the courage to speak to my daughter.”

“But he suddenly caused a scene this time?”

“Yes. As if he suddenly became a different person.”

The Count continued with a serious expression.

“As you, who have already faced him directly, would know, the Malcom scion was by no means in a normal state at that time. Neither in body nor mind.”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“Especially that black aura that emanated from his body. Anyone who knows anything would know what that means.”

The people gathered in the banquet hall had already seen the black aura emanating from the son of Baron Malcom.

There was no one who didn’t know what it meant.

“A black mage had a hand in it from behind. There’s no doubt.”

“You mean those cursed followers are still around?”

Count Parmas sighed at the lamenting Baron Schneider and said.

“Uprooting them is not as easy as it sounds. They are only hiding in the darkness. They have not been annihilated.”

Black mages.

It refers to the humans who sided with the demons and fought in the war against the demon race hundreds of years ago.

A black mage, who makes a pact with a demon and receives power directly from them, can quickly gain great strength, but their personality becomes twisted into evil, and in the end, they are reborn as beings that can no longer be called human.

After winning the war against the demons, humans hunted down and killed those black mages like rats, but even after hundreds of years, black mages still existed.

Occasionally, whenever there was an incident of mass death, a plague, or a high-ranking noble dying from a curse, black mages were behind it.

“I don’t know how the black mage approached the scion of the Baron Malcom family, but it seems they used his feelings for my daughter to pull some strings.”

“To manipulate someone by exploiting their weakness. It’s a very black mage-like thing to do.”

“Indeed. Well, of course, nothing is confirmed yet. The culprit is currently in prison, so we’ll have to conduct a detailed investigation through a mage later to know for sure.”

At that moment, Patrick interjected into the conversation.

“Is the culprit in the dungeon right now?”

“That’s right. Why are you curious?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

After that, the Count continued to talk about various things with Baron Schneider, but Patrick let it all in one ear and out the other.

‘A dungeon, huh… I’ll have to check it out before the mage arrives.’

Patrick also had something to confirm with that Malcom scion kid, or whatever his name was.

* * *

The dungeon of the Count Parmas family.

The guard on duty there was dozing off, bored with his early morning shift.

“Hey. Wake up.”

“Mmm… ah. I almost fell asleep.”

“Tsk tsk, the prisoner the Count is concerned about is inside, and you’re falling asleep?”

“Ah, I said I’m sorry.”

“Stay sharp. A guard is supposed to prevent even a single rat from passing… huh? Who’s there?”

“What? What is it?”

The guard, flustered, aimed his spear and quickly took a stance. However….

“Hahaha, gotcha.”

“You little…”

“You’re wide awake now, aren’t you?”

“Ugh, you scared me!?”

Behind the chiding soldier, another presence muttered softly.

“Tell me about it…”

There was someone who had been startled, thinking that an unknown prison guard had actually detected his presence.

It was Patrick.

Patrick, who had been quietly infiltrating the dungeon on an errand, was surprised when the guard pointed exactly in his direction and shouted.

‘Well, even the Shaolin baldies couldn’t find me when I infiltrated their prison, so how could these guys?’

Why did he secretly enter the Shaolin prison, you ask?

Let’s just say it was because there was someone in there who needed to be beaten.

And Patrick, who skillfully hid in the darkness and entered, found the culprit lying inside the prison, breathing raggedly.

“There are no other prisoners. I can check quietly.”

“Kuh… krrr… eugeugeu…”

Hearing Patrick’s voice, the Malcom scion, who was groaning on the floor, made a sound like a growling beast.

To do this even when he couldn't speak due to a broken jaw meant that his fighting spirit was still intact.

In truth, it was a feeling closer to hatred than fighting spirit.

“I was a bit unsure earlier, but let’s just check one thing.”

Patrick grabbed the wrist of the fallen opponent and infused his ki into it. And then….

“As I thought…”

Patrick’s expression hardened coldly.

He had been somewhat certain.

But confirming it directly like this brought about a different feeling.

“It’s demonic energy (Magi). It’s the same as what those Demonic Cult bastards handle.”

This was the real reason Patrick had to step in.

It wasn't just about the money.

* * *

The forces of the Jianghu where Patrick had lived were largely divided into three.

The Orthodox, the Unorthodox, and the Demonic.

The Orthodox Faction were the guys who shouted, ‘You evil bastards, die!’ at the Unorthodox Faction while swinging their swords.

The Unorthodox Faction were the guys who shouted, ‘You hypocritical bastards, die!’ while swinging their swords.

And the Demonic Cult…

“Heavenly Demon’s Advent, Ten Thousand Demons Submit! Kill all who deny the name of the Heavenly Demon!”

“Shut up! Blood Demon’s Advent, Long Live Asura! Kill all the apostates!”

They were the guys who even fought among themselves.

Why, you ask?

For that, one had to look at their history.

Originally, the Demonic Cult was called the Ming Cult, a sect of martial artists who worshipped fire.

Even before the concept of the Jianghu was established, they had helped the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang, both overtly and covertly, spreading their influence far and wide, and their power was so great that there were talks they might be designated as the state religion of the Ming Dynasty.

From that Ming Cult, an outstanding figure emerged.

Not one, but two.

The Heavenly Demon and the Blood Demon.

Two outstanding talents, the kind of which would be hard to find even one in an era, happened to emerge in the same era and from the same organization.

And they were both in the position of Young Cult Leader, vying for the position of the next Cult Leader.

In such a case, the existence of geniuses is not necessarily a boon to an organization.

First of all, the two of them were too strong.

Even if they had been born as the sons of nameless villagers without the background of the Ming Cult, they were monsters who would have grown on their own and made a name for themselves in the history of the Jianghu as great masters, and they were born as candidates for the next Cult Leader of the Ming Cult.

The two naturally opposed each other, and eventually, that opposition erupted into an internal war.

As a result, the Ming Cult split into two, one becoming the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult and the other the Asura Blood Cult.

These two organizations claimed to be the legitimate line and fought each other to the death.

For hundreds of years.

The internal conflict was so fierce that they didn't engage much in external activities.

But very occasionally….

A martial artist who had trained in the demonic arts of the Demonic Cult or the Blood Cult.

When these commonly called demonic practitioners (Main) appeared in the Central Plains of the Jianghu, a storm of blood would rage.

Usually, the demonic practitioners who came out to the Central Plains like that were people who had caused so much trouble that even the Demonic Cult or the Blood Cult couldn't handle them and had been exiled or had run away.

In other words, they were completely and utterly insane.

And each time, the Jianghu of the Central Plains had to shudder at the strength of the demonic practitioners.

Although the number of demonic practitioners was less than one-hundredth of the Orthodox or Unorthodox Factions, the power they possessed was astounding.

There were three times in the history of the Jianghu when the Orthodox and Unorthodox Factions formed an alliance, and all three times, the alliance was formed to counter the demonic practitioners of the Demonic Cult or the Blood Cult.

That’s how strong and dangerous the demonic practitioners were.

And Patrick had faced a demonic practitioner in his past life.

‘He was a madman who captured a hundred young boys on the night of the new moon and bathed in their blood.’

Patrick had seen it with his own eyes.

The demonic practitioner, submerged in a pond made of blood, wearing an ecstatic expression as if drunk on fine wine.

The scene of that tragedy was so horrific that it made even his good-natured Master spew curses.

It was so cruel and atrocious that it made one doubt how a human could do such a thing to another human.

Most of the training processes for the martial arts of the demonic practitioners were like that.

Absorbing another’s internal energy, drinking their blood, or plundering a woman’s vital essence; it was usually something like that.

Despite the horror of such methods, the existence of demonic practitioners never ceased to appear.

Because it was a fast and certain path to obtaining power.

At that time, Patrick had managed to cut off that demonic practitioner’s head, but he had to exchange over a thousand blows.

Considering that Patrick’s martial prowess at the time was such that he could easily subdue the leaders of the Nine Sects within a hundred moves, the strength of that demonic practitioner was astounding.

The demonic energy of such a demonic practitioner…

“Why has it appeared here?”

Patrick’s expression grew serious.

From the moment he first saw this man in the banquet hall, he had vaguely sensed the presence of demonic energy. But seeing him again like this, he could feel the presence of demonic energy even more clearly.

Could it be that the Demonic Cult or the Blood Cult existed here too?

“Hmm, uh… wait, this is a bit different.”

Patrick’s expression changed again as he investigated the opponent’s interior.

In the process of checking where and how the demonic energy was located in the body, he found that the demonic energy was not in the dantian but was concentrated near the heart.

This was not the way of a demonic practitioner.

Whether it was demonic energy or just ordinary ki, it was common sense for a martial artist to concentrate ki in the dantian.

This was a common sense that never changed, whether it was a peerless divine art or a third-rate martial art from the streets.

The demonic practitioners were no exception.

‘Come to think of it, our sect’s founder who came up with the idea of splitting that important dantian into two must have been a madman.’

In any case, this was not the demonic art of a demonic practitioner. If so….

“You’re telling me those things called black mages handle demonic energy. This is going to be a bit of a headache.”

How dangerous were these so-called black mages?

Since being reborn in this world, Patrick had never really felt the presence of anything that could be called a threat.

The only threat was the fight with the King Ogre, but that was when he was inexperienced, and if he fought it again now, he could catch it with ease.

But what if the power of the black mages was not inferior to the demonic practitioners Patrick remembered….

“It seems this won’t end quietly.”

Patrick’s expression had hardened quite seriously.

It was a matter he had gotten involved in with the intention of making a light impression, but it seemed highly likely that it wouldn’t end that way.

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