The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

The quarters the Blood Demon gave her were on the first floor. He said it was the best room, and it looked the part.
Sohwa approached the window.
It was a huge window overlooking the garden. If she put her mind to it, she could go out through here and escape.
She could feel the Blood Demon’s confidence that she would not be able to leave Geumeunsan without his permission.
Sohwa reached her hand toward the window washed in dawn light. Soft petals brushed her fingertips. It was saneunghwa, a flower said to bloom on the dunes of the Great Desert.
Sohwa cast her gaze a little farther.
Her eyes took in a black pond set in the middle of the garden. Wild grasses that grew in wetlands were thick around it.
What kind of garden was the Blood Demon’s, that plants with wildly different native habitats were all growing in one place?
There was dry sand in front of the pavilion, and there was indeed wetland near the pond.
But soil alone is not all that determines a plant’s native conditions.
Plants are raised by wind and sun with everything together; this was an environment that did not make sense.
As if slices of space had been carved out and moved here.
'Is this sorcery as well?'
Sohwa’s eyes darkened.
The Blood Cult was a far more complicated and grotesque group than she had thought.
She pressed her temple and then flinched. The tracking scent spreading from her wrist still felt thick.
“I went and did something useless….”
She had made the tracking scent with the thought that if she died, at least they could learn the Blood Cult’s base in the Central Plains.
In case a spy might catch on, Sohwa altered the blend and delivered that scent only to the Clan Head.
But with people who could jumble up space, it was a useless move.
If one did not know how to pass through a formation, it was pointless.
Worse, they could trap the tracker inside the formation.
Her heart grew heavy at the misstep, but she soon set her anxiety down.
'No, since the Blue Blood Hall Lord said he made a double of me, the Central Plains won’t know I’ve vanished.'
The tracking scent lasted, at most, ten days.
The period the Alliance Leader had asked her to give him trust was ten days, so at least during that time it would be hard for outsiders to notice her disappearance.
Besides, even if the Alliance Leader noticed she was gone, he would not come looking.
'He would rather, for the sake of his own peace, wish for me to die at the Blood Demon’s hands.'
Perhaps that was fortunate for her as well.
Sohwa hoped the Alliance Leader would conceal her disappearance.
If her father noticed and came to find her, only the Tang Clan would be put in danger.
If someone did notice she was missing, she would rather they learned of it only after the tracking scent had dispersed and coming here had become impossible.
Knowing it was now meaningless, Tang Sohwa still rubbed her wrist with her sleeve.
At that moment, a sneering voice came from behind.
“You kept calling me mad, mad, and now you’re the one who’s gone mad.”
Sohwa turned her head. At the same time, her eyes knit.
“…What’s with that state of you?”
Hae-rak, standing at the door, covered his face with one hand and turned his head.
“Don’t mind it.”
Since he had subdued the Blue Blood Hall Lord so easily, she thought nothing would be wrong, yet Hae-rak’s face and clothes were soaked in blood and a mess.
Whatever had happened, Sohwa did not ask further.
Seeing him avoid her gaze, it seemed he had no desire to talk about it.
Instead, Sohwa asked something else.
“Where is the Medical Hall?”
Hae-rak, who had been avoiding her eyes, looked at Sohwa again.
“Have you never heard of blood arts?”
“What use is hearing about that crap.”
At the answer so typical of Tang Sohwa, Hae-rak let out a short laugh.
“The Central Plains folk I’ve seen—if anything they exaggerate about the Blood Cult, but I’ve never seen anyone treat it as no big deal. You’re truly peculiar. Don’t they say the Blood Cult eats the blood of martial men and makes their flesh and bone from it?”
Sohwa had heard the ghastly rumors about the Blood Cult as well.
Art of Absorbing Essence, absorbing essence—stories handed down like legend that they suck people’s blood and steal inner energy and strength.
That Blood Cult scum who plundered others’ lives were said to gain a recovery beyond comparison with the orthodox.
It seemed that was not nonsense.
Hae-rak added with a smile.
“If a cultist is living in Geumeunsan, wouldn’t he be someone the Blood Demon dotes on to a fair degree? Then what do they need a Medical Hall for. Go out, grab a few martial men, and feed—good enough.”
Hae-rak spoke as if it were nothing, but Sohwa was no fool.
She looked at Hae-rak and opened her mouth.
“You did not learn blood arts.”
Sohwa’s eyes narrowed.
“And yet it’s strange. You look high-ranking, and you helped the Blood Demon in the Central Plains and hid the Blood Cult, so why were you not taught blood arts? It doesn’t seem like the Blood Demon would have any reason not to raise you.”
“Is there any reason to dote on me? You’ve seen how I talk, haven’t you?”
“That is strange too. You loathe the Blood Demon, so how did you become a cultist of the Blood Cult?”
Instead of answering, Hae-rak curled his lips.
Sohwa watched that sly expression and spoke. A suspicion she always kept inside leaked out.
“Are you a descendant of the Great Desert Sun Palace?”
A brief silence flowed.
“Are Outland bloodlines under the Blood Cult’s rule?”
Sohwa, reading the expression that gave no answer, continued. To gain an answer from his reactions, not his mouth.
“Then why did the Blood Demon insist on preserving the line of the Outland? If he’s not careful, the Outland could be rebuilt—wouldn’t erasing the Outland completely be perfect rule?”
A faint smile hung on Hae-rak’s face. As if to say, go on.

Keeping him in her eyes, Sohwa continued her questions.
“Since the Red Blood Hall Lord and the Blue Blood Hall Lord, who were said to have been taught blood arts, lost to you, doesn’t that prove Outland martial arts surpass blood arts? If it were me, I would erase everything and leave only blood arts in the world so something like this wouldn’t happen.”
At Sohwa’s words, Hae-rak chuckled.
“Sohwa.”
He spoke lightly.
“If you can understand a madman’s thoughts, you are not a madman.”
Hae-rak lightly twisted his index finger.
“By your standards, failing to understand is normal, so turn the frame of your thinking just a little.”
He also lowered the other hand that had been covering his face. At the ghastly sight, Sohwa’s eyes knit. But Hae-rak did not care and added,
“Do that, and without even reading my expression, you’ll arrive at the answer yourself.”
Sohwa, staring fixedly at Hae-rak, closed her mouth.
After quite a while, Sohwa opened her mouth again.
“Do you have to stay looking like that?”
“It’s fine. It only takes time—if I go wash and rest, I’ll be fine.”
As if to change the subject, Hae-rak said something else.
“The Blood Demon told the Honin to guide you to the Bigo; you’ll be going in soon.”
Saying that, Hae-rak came up to Sohwa. He took something from his breast and fastened it on Sohwa’s wrist.
“What is this?”
It was a bracelet. Beads were strung like a rosary; on a few, the gold plating had worn off and a red sheen showed.
“If you wear this, those in the Bigo won’t dare treat you recklessly. If anyone acts without a shred of fear, show them this.”
“Is it like your name plaque?”
Hae-rak let out a small burst of laughter.
“Not a name plaque… well, it’s similar. A tiger’s claw that will help you borrow the tiger’s might.”
Hae-rak lowered Sohwa’s sleeve to cover her wrist and took his hand away.
“When do you plan to come out of the Bigo?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to wash and sleep until you come.”
Sohwa turned her gaze to the doorway. The Honin she hadn’t even realized was there stood quietly, watching them.
The Honin turned and walked down the corridor as if to tell Sohwa to follow.
“Stop by my room after you wake up.”
“Oh, didn’t think you’d be the one to ask to see me first.”
Sohwa did not reply further to Hae-rak’s words and walked after the Honin.
“Go and come back safely.”
With those words, no other sound followed.
The Honin walked the corridor and went down the stairs.
Following down the stairs, a wall immediately came into view. The Honin turned and looked at Sohwa.
“The Blood Demon has ordered that you be allowed to look around the Bigo as much as he desires. Come out whenever is convenient for you.”
When Sohwa nodded, the Honin opened the door.
She stepped into the Bigo.
Bang.
A sound of the door closing came from behind.
Sohwa felt disappointed at the sight that appeared before her.
Perhaps because the Blood Demon’s castle was unusual, her expectations had been high. The Bigo was merely a study packed with bookshelves. Night pearls hung here and there, but it wasn’t very bright.
Sohwa took a book that was before her and knit her brow.
It was written in a script she could not understand.
Sighing, she searched for books written in the language of the Central Plains. But even after she passed more than twenty shelves, she could not find a secret text written in the Central Plains tongue.
Fortunately, when she went down to the lower floor, Sohwa found records she could understand.
They were writings someone had rendered into the language of the Central Plains.
There were many familiar words. It was hard to call it a medical text, but medicinal ingredients and their effects were written down.
Sohwa guessed which region these records were from.
The Southern Barbarians.
Most of the herbs used came from Yunnan, and occasionally the names of rare insects were written.
After skimming a few more volumes, Sohwa was certain.
The Blood Demon was translating Outland medical texts into the language of the Central Plains.
The problem was that there were only six volumes in all.
What’s more, the records she had read in her past life were not there.
Had the records Namgung Hyun had brought not yet been translated?
Just then, a cracked voice came from behind.
“Who are you?”
Sohwa turned around.
A bizarre-looking man was standing there.
Judging by the red hair and red eyebrows, he looked like a master of blood arts, but the clothes soaked in blood had rotted and were full of holes here and there.
On top of that, it had been a long time since he had washed; the hair clotted with blood had hardened as-is and hung in rough, wavy clumps.
It was an outfit suited to a dungeon, not a Bigo.
“I asked who you are.”
Whether he took Sohwa for an intruder, his gaze was fierce, but he did not raise his qi sense.
He seemed afraid that the texts and artifacts would be damaged.
'Is he the one who manages the Bigo?'
Though his appearance was too grotesque to call him a manager, Sohwa asked, just in case.
“I have the Blood Demon’s permission to look around the Bigo.”
“Th-the Blood Demon sent you?”
Sohwa nodded.
“…What are you seeking?”
Perhaps nervous, the man forced the words out.
“First I’m looking for medical texts. I have to restore the Blood Jade. But are the medical texts written in the language of the Central Plains all there are here?”
“Central Plains?”
The man suddenly glared.
At the word “Blood Demon,” as if he had never been surprised, he asked in a voice full of fury,
“You can understand medical texts written in the Central Plains tongue? Wait. Come to °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° think of it, you speak the Central Plains tongue fluently—you seem like someone not who learned it separately but who was born in the Central Plains.”
The man’s manner of speaking changed.
Not lacking in perception, Sohwa did not answer.
But for some reason, as if he had become certain of something, his eyes flashed and he came closer.
“And your face is familiar….”
The approaching man suddenly vanished beside a bookshelf.
The Blood Cult man who returned had a booklet in his hand. He held the book very preciously. Larger than ordinary books, it looked like a picture collection bound together.
Dropping only her gaze, Sohwa confirmed the facial sketch he opened.
Above the letters that read “Tang Sohwa,” her own face was drawn.
A voice, as if chewing his tongue, came out, choked with malice.
“The gracious Blood Demon has sent you to me.”
Lifting her eyes, Sohwa faced him.
The Blood Cult man let out a grotesque laugh and muttered,
“Heh-heh, to think I’d get to meet you before I die.”
He seemed to know her well, but Sohwa did not know who he was.
“You seem to have a deep grudge against me, so why do I not know you?”
“Because you’ve never seen me.”
Though he looked like he would spring at her any moment, he did not move recklessly for fear the book in his hands would be damaged. He even carefully carried it back to the shelf and returned.
Appearing before her again, he grabbed up his tangled hair with one hand and said,
“If not for Heukcheon Amgui, that day I would have torn off your limbs and buried you on Mount Emei. Heh-heh, lucky me—I’ve met you again in my domain.”
Heukcheon Amgui. Mount Emei. Blood Cult.
She did not know who he was, but she thought she knew when she had met him.
“Are you the Blood Cult bastard who fled Mount Emei three years ago?”
“Yes. Now you remember.”
Recalling that day, Sohwa answered calmly.
“I remember. It was so laughable, the way you abandoned your subordinates and ran, I couldn’t forget.”
“Uaaagh! You bitch! It’s all because of you! Because of you! I’ll tear off your limbs and kill you!”
Already excited, he let out a furious scream and lunged.
As he drew near, Sohwa, standing where she was, took a book from the shelf and threw it.
Slaaash.
“Aaagh! You crazy bitch! Don’t throw that! Do you even know what that is!”
He was aghast and scuttled backward. Then, looking at the book that fell to the floor, he didn’t know what to do.
He was sensitive to the Bigo’s items being damaged.
Sohwa kept throwing whatever came to her hand.
“Ugh! This crazy bitch! Stay still!”
“If you stay still, I’ll consider it.”
Childish words were exchanged, but the conversation could not continue.
Unable to suppress his rage, he went to the side of a shelf and rushed at her from behind.
KWAANG.
“I’ll kill you!”
The Blood Cult man, claws bared, flew to seize the back of Sohwa’s neck. Sohwa did not evade and lifted a flower vase from the corridor to block.
Then he started in shock and quickly retreated with hurried steps.
Watching him flail, Sohwa threw the vase. Then, as if he had seen an arrow, he panicked and caught it with both hands, very carefully.
“Aagh! Th-this! Do you know how precious this is! You crazy bitch!”
Boiling over with rage, the Blood Cult man kept coming, carefully catching the artifacts Sohwa threw.
Even so, she bought time.
At last, Sohwa climbed to the floor with the entrance. As she ran for the door, the sounds suddenly vanished.
It was then.
“Haa, you’re still a bitch with a nimble little trick.”
He had appeared at the entrance before she knew it, eyes flashing with excitement.
The exit was blocked.
The moment Sohwa turned her body beside a shelf, she felt her body stick flush to the wall. At the same time, her arms went up toward the sky.
He had bound her hands first so she couldn’t throw things.
Lowering his voice, the Blood Cult man asked Sohwa,
“There’s a way to die in humiliation, and a way to die in pain—do you want to try both?”
Sohwa did not answer.
She simply moved the one hand that wasn’t caught. The moment she tried to seize a hanging scroll on the wall, he burst into laughter.
“You take me lightly.”
He grabbed her other arm as well. His grip was feather-light, as if holding down a wisp of fuzz. The Blood Cult man’s lips stretched in a smirk.
Both hands, caught in the Blood Cult man’s hands, went up over her head.
“Wait for it—the pain will be worse than death….”
Suddenly, the Blood Cult man stopped speaking.
His red pupils were fixed on Sohwa’s wrist.
Soon he began to tremble all over.
“H-how is it that you….”
Thunk.
As if his strength had gone out, he collapsed to the floor and scuttled backward. Trembling, making gagging sounds as if he would topple over, the Blood Cult man hid behind the railing and asked, shaking,
“H-has the Blood Demon given you a divine object?”
Sohwa looked at her own wrist.
The bracelet Hae-rak had fastened on her came into view.