"As expected from the beginning... cough!" Every time I opened my mouth, a surge of dark blood gushed out.
I knew it was dangerous to speak in such a severely injured state, but I couldn't hold back the boiling rage inside me.
"You planned to kill us all," I muttered through gritted teeth, glaring at the old man before me, wishing I could tear him apart.
"Kekeke. So the day has come when the so-called 'Iron-Blooded Instructor' makes such a face," sneered Ma Nao, the elder of the Blood Demon Sect, his yellow teeth bared in a twisted grin.
His fingers, thick from mastering the Black Killing Technique, were drenched in blood—my blood.
I clenched my teeth, pressing my palm against my abdomen to keep my insides from spilling out.
"I’ll drag you to hell, you traitor," I spat.
"Did I deceive you?" Ma Nao laughed weakly, his expression turning sinister.
"Let’s be honest. You never trusted me. That’s why those 'trash' who should’ve been dead are standing behind you now, isn’t it?"
A terrifying aura erupted from behind me.
The four supreme masters, who had been presumed dead for decades, stood there, their presence overwhelming.
The Green Forest King, Meng Huo’e.
The Mad Demon, Xuan Yuanhou.
The Ice Moon Goddess, Yin Yelin.
The Sword Sovereign, Murong Hun.
These were legendary figures who had vanished from the martial world decades ago.
The truth was, they had been captured by the Blood Demon Sect and imprisoned in the dark underground dungeon, living a life worse than death.
And I, their martial arts instructor, had been the one to study and analyze their techniques, teaching them to the sect’s disciples.
"Today, we will slaughter you all and destroy the Blood Demon Sect!" roared Meng Huo’e, his voice still thunderous despite his emaciated frame.
"Today, the Blood Demon Sect will vanish from the martial world," said Xuan Yuanhou, his sharp eyes gleaming as he drew his blade.
"Finally, the day has come to repay this humiliation," whispered Yin Yelin, her icy aura chilling the air.
"My son... is he truly dead?" asked Murong Hun, his voice trembling with a mix of anger, sorrow, and madness.
The other three masters instinctively stepped back as he stepped forward.
Ma Nao’s cold laughter echoed.
"Kekeke. Look at these trash, struggling so desperately."
His gaze swept over the four supreme masters before landing on me.
"I always knew you’d betray the sect one day."
The reason these four had escaped the dungeon was because I had freed them.
I couldn’t just die quietly at the hands of this old man.
"Betrayal? Nonsense. You were the one who planned to discard me first," I retorted.
I had been an orphan, kidnapped by the Blood Demon Sect as a child and forced to become a warrior.
Fortunately, I had talent in martial arts and quickly rose through the ranks.
But after a cursed accident damaged my dantian, I could no longer use my internal energy.
To survive, I became a martial arts instructor, studying and teaching the sect’s techniques.
Ten years ago, Ma Nao had secretly tasked me with researching the martial arts of the four supreme masters imprisoned in the dungeon.
I was to teach their techniques to the sect’s elite disciples.
But I had always known that once my usefulness ran out, I’d be killed to keep the secrets.
"So you conspired to restore their martial arts?" Ma Nao sneered.
"Not exactly restore," I said.
Their dantians were destroyed, their meridians blocked, and their limbs crippled.
The only reason they could fight now was because of a secret manual I had found in the sect’s archives.
But even this was temporary.
Even if we survived today, they wouldn’t live long.
Neither would I.
I smirked bitterly.
"I couldn’t just die quietly. I had to bite back at least once."
"You always seemed like a stubborn bear, but you’re actually a cunning fox," Ma Nao said, shaking his head.
"You’re right. Even if you couldn’t cultivate internal energy, someone who knows the martial arts of four supreme masters is too dangerous to keep alive. Besides, I’ve already recorded all your research in secret manuals."
I chuckled darkly.
"I changed the crucial parts of those manuals. Anyone who tries to learn them will go mad and die."
Ma Nao’s expression soured.
"I regret not killing you sooner."
"Too late for regrets," I said, looking around at the sea of corpses and blood.
"Today will be recorded as the Blood Demon Sect’s worst massacre."
"It won’t be recorded," Ma Nao said coldly.
"You’ll all die here, and the sect doesn’t record defeats. Have you had enough time to recover?"
"We both need time," I said, grinning at him.
Damn it.
I hated to admit it, but this old man and I were alike.
Ma Nao smirked.
"Good. I needed a stage to test your 'creations.'"
The encirclement around us parted, and four familiar faces stepped forward.
My heart sank as I recognized them—my "masterpieces," the disciples I had trained using the techniques of the four supreme masters.
They were emotionless, perfect killing machines, ready to kill even their own master.
"Kekeke. For a martial artist, is there any death more glorious than being killed by a disciple who surpasses you?" Ma Nao laughed.
"You’re insane," I muttered.
The four supreme masters faced their counterparts, their auras clashing.
But I knew the truth—this fight was hopeless.
My creations had perfected and improved upon the original techniques, while the supreme masters were weakened and exhausted from their escape.
But I still had one last card to play.
"Ma Nao," I said, "did I say I only mastered four martial arts?"
He frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
"I secretly learned a fifth," I said, grinning as I drew upon my shattered dantian, unleashing a surge of internal energy that overwhelmed even the eight supreme masters.
"This... this aura!" Ma Nao’s eyes widened in shock.
The Reverse Heaven Divine Art—the strongest technique of the Blood Demon Sect, known only to its leaders.
I had mastered it, even the ancient version unknown to the current Blood Demon.
But it wasn’t complete.
If only I had more time...
"Let’s go," I said to the four supreme masters.
"We need to break through before the Blood Demon arrives."
The Blood Demon—the sect’s supreme leader, a name that even these masters feared.
If he arrived, it would be the end.
"Let’s survive," I said.
"We all have unfinished business."
We fought with everything we had.
And in the end, we all died.
This story was never recorded in the annals of the martial world.
"Master!"
"..."
"Master! Master! Are you spacing out again?"
I slowly turned my head.
A small hand was shaking mine.
A boy around ten years old, with a round face and innocent eyes, was looking up at me.
"Master! The kids are waiting for you! They’re all gathered in the training hall!"
"Tell them to practice on their own today. There’s a ball over there—take it and play."
"But we practiced on our own yesterday! And the day before! When are we going to learn real martial arts?"
"Even if you learn it, it’s useless..."
I muttered.
The boy puffed out his cheeks in frustration.
"If you keep this up, I’ll tell the Grand Master!"
This little brat...
I almost smacked him but held back.
I couldn’t act like I did in the Blood Demon Sect.
Times and places had changed.
"Fine. Let’s go."
"Hurry up!" He tugged at my hand, leading me to the small training hall where a group of kids in training uniforms were waiting eagerly.
"Master! Teach us martial arts!"
I scratched my head, looking at them, then glanced up at the sign above the martial hall: [Hundred Martial Hall].
It claimed to teach a hundred martial arts, but... well, that was probably an exaggeration.
It had already been a month since I woke up in this body—a martial arts instructor in a small rural martial hall.
The Blood Demon Sect had fallen decades ago.