Chapter 252: That is the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
Chapter 252: That is the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
I followed my father down a path I had never trodden before.
The area behind the Heavenly Demon Hall was a place I had never ventured, not even when I had returned to the Main Cult to gather materials for the Great Regression Art before my regression.
When we reached a beautifully landscaped flower garden, my father stopped and informed me that a formation had been laid.
"Tread exactly where I tread."
The array spread across the garden was the Nine Springs Evil Spirit Labyrinth Formation. It was a terrifying, lethal trap; if one failed to find the Gate of Life, they would be pursued by vengeful spirits until their dying breath.
I followed with bated breath, placing my feet exactly where my father’s had landed.
As we cleared the Nine Springs Evil Spirit Labyrinth Formation, the view ahead shifted dramatically. In a space that had appeared empty while walking through the garden, a massive building now loomed like an impenetrable fortress.
A place more secretive than any other within the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—this was the Nine Calamities Demon Palace.
My father placed his palm against a small plate beside the door. As he injected his internal energy, the massive gates began to groan open. This was a sanctuary only those who had mastered the Nine Calamities Demonic Art were permitted to enter.
I stepped forward into a new world.
The moment I entered, a single sight overwhelmed me.
Directly ahead, a gargantuan stone statue, the very image of the Heavenly Demon Soul, sat enthroned. It looked exactly like my father when he sat upon his Grand Tutor’s Chair.
The Heavenly Demon Soul held its hand out toward the front. I could feel it instinctively—that palm was the seat intended for the Heavenly Demon.
The moment I laid eyes on the Heavenly Demon Soul, a thrill raced through my entire body. A primal desire surged within me to climb onto that outstretched hand and stand tall. I was consumed by the urge to meet my own Heavenly Demon Soul as soon as possible. Truly, maintaining my composure was harder today than ever before.
Then, my father spoke a single sentence that made my heart tremble even more.
"I, too, received the transmission of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art from my father here."
Perhaps he was remembering that day, for a flicker of nostalgia passed through his eyes.
‘What kind of person was Grandfather to you, Father?’
My father had never once spoken of my grandfather.
‘As for me, I find I have much to tell my own children about you.’
I slowly looked around.
The vast space was a place where the past and present coexisted.
The murals painted on one wall depicted the Demonic Cult in its primordial beginnings. It was a terrifying, bizarre, and primal sight; the paintings and statues were so vivid it felt as though they might leap from the walls at any moment.
Beside them, another era of the Cult was depicted. As time passed, the Demonic Cult had changed. The demonic practitioners and the devils themselves were portrayed differently.
"The Nine Calamities Demonic Art has been passed down through countless ages, changing and improving, sometimes being lost to time only to be reconnected once more."
Detailed records regarding the Nine Calamities Demonic Art were also inscribed on the walls.
There were records of the art’s birth and detailed descriptions of the era when it consisted of only nine forms.
Then there were times when it was split into the Nine Calamities Demonic Sword Form, the Nine Calamities Demonic Blade Form, and the Nine Calamities Demonic Fist Form, becoming a martial art of seven forms each for the first and second halves. There were even periods when it lay buried in darkness, forgotten by the world.
The entire process, leading up to the present day where it had returned to nine forms, was recorded in meticulous detail upon the walls.
"The Nine Calamities Demonic Art has constantly evolved."
"It had no choice. Idiots and geniuses have continued to emerge in every era."
As he spoke, my father’s gaze returned to the statue of the Heavenly Demon Soul.
"The only thing that has never changed amidst those shifts is the Heavenly Demon Soul."
Though the forms changed with the times, the Heavenly Demon Soul remained constant.
It was the ultimate existence that could only be summoned upon reaching the Great Achievement of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
Before coming to this place, I had already seen the mental image of the Heavenly Demon Soul several times. I had felt it watching me in the Mansa Sect Leader’s cave, and I had seen it while enduring the overbearing aura of the Murim Alliance Leader.
I could never forget the look in its eyes as it gazed at me then. A gaze that seemed to find me pathetic, yet seemed to long for me, and yet seemed to pity me.
"Have you ever summoned the Heavenly Demon Soul?"
At my question, my father nodded.
It meant he had reached the Great Achievement of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art and was capable of summoning it.
Father, did you lose to Hwa Mu-gi even after summoning the Heavenly Demon Soul? Or did you fight without calling it forth? Just what kind of battle took place that day?
Even now, looking at my father’s steadfast profile, it was difficult to associate him with defeat. Whether I would ever learn the truth of that day or remain ignorant forever was uncertain, but one thing was for sure.
That event would never happen again.
"If I reach the Great Achievement of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, will both you and I be able to summon our own Heavenly Demon Souls?"
"Yes. It is said that the Heavenly Demon Soul differs slightly depending on the person who summons it. The one I call forth and the one you call forth will be different."
A Heavenly Demon Soul different from my father’s. Imagining those two souls standing tall and facing each other made me look forward to that moment immensely.
"My Heavenly Demon Soul... might be a bit talkative."
A faint smile played on my father’s lips. For him, that was a reaction equivalent to bursting into boisterous laughter.
"I wonder if I shall see it in my lifetime."
Though he was teasing me, his words also carried the weight of how difficult it was to reach the Great Achievement of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
My father leaped lightly into the air and landed upon the palm of the Heavenly Demon Soul statue.
"Come up here."
As if I had been waiting for the command, I leaped up and stood beside him.
I reached out and touched the statue’s hand. The stone felt cold to the touch.
The symbol of the Heavenly Demon Soul was engraved in the center of the palm, designed so that a person could sit there. It seemed my father had also received the transmission in this very spot.
My father stared at me and asked again.
"Are you ready?"
I looked back at him and answered.
"I wish to feel the true touch of the Heavenly Demon Soul."
At that, my father’s majestic aura filled the hall.
Finally, the words I had yearned for flowed from his lips.
"From this moment, I shall transmit the Nine Calamities Demonic Art."
My body trembled instinctively before this great destiny. My heart, which had settled, began to race once more.
I sat down on the spot, straightening my back in a proper posture.
I breathed thinly and deeply, maintaining stability. My breath and consciousness became one, and at last, I was ready to accept my fate.
This palm was no ordinary place. Though I didn't know the principle behind it, the movement of internal energy and demonic qi felt much smoother here.
"A form is merely a process for the single result of killing—a movement to optimize that process. Your achievement will depend on how well you understand this."
Beginning with the transmission of the deep principles of martial arts, my father began to recite the oral formula of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
I closed my eyes and began to memorize the formula.
It was more difficult than any martial art I had encountered thus far. Usually, I could grasp the general gist the moment I heard it, but the Nine Calamities Demonic Art was composed of entirely new concepts.
I focused solely on memorizing what my father said. Understanding and interpreting the meaning would come later. I concentrated with my entire being.
"...The Shenque must be cold, and the Shuifen must be hot. If the Xiawan is the leaf, the Jianli must be the root; only when chaos becomes order and a roar becomes silence will the Zhongwan turn to life and the Juque turn to death. When the Zhongting is clear and still, the Shanzhong..."
The incomprehensible formulas passed by endlessly. The final line of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, which continued for a long time, concluded like this:
"...Standing tall and alone in this world, that is the Nine Calamities Demonic Art."
As my father finished the formula, an exclamation escaped my lips involuntarily. Whether I understood it or not was a secondary issue. I could feel it instinctively—just how incredible this martial art was. The majesty and dignity of an Absolute Demonic Art washed over me in a wave of overwhelming emotion.
"How much have you memorized?"
"I have memorized the formula itself in its entirety."
My father was different than usual. Normally, he would have stood up and said, "Then let us go," but instead, he repeated the formula.
"Now, listen again."
In this moment of teaching the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, he was more serious than ever. Since the principle was to teach it directly rather than through a manual, misremembering or misinterpreting even a single character could put one's life at risk.
After repeating the formula three times, my father told me to recite it back to him.
I began to chant the formula of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
When I finished reciting it perfectly from beginning to end, a look of satisfaction appeared on my father’s face.
"Accurate."
I performed a deep bow to him.
"I am truly overjoyed. Thank you, Father."
Emotions welled up, and I couldn't think of any other words. I was simply filled with joy and gratitude.
I thought the transmission would end there—that he had taught me, and now it was up to me to master it.
But it wasn't over.
My father transmitted several key points and core principles of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. He didn't explain the whole thing but pointed out specific parts where I might get confused.
"Have you memorized these as well?"
"Yes, I have."
"I tell you this so that you do not wander down unnecessary paths."
"Thank you, Father."
My father sat on the edge of the statue's fingertips. I sat down beside him.
"My father lectured me on the entire essence of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. From the beginning of the formula to the end. He told me everything—how to interpret it and how to train. Even so, it took me a very long time to reach Great Achievement."
My father’s gaze turned toward me.
"I will not tell you the entire essence."
It was so like him that I wasn't particularly surprised. However, his reason for doing so was truly shocking.
"You know as well as I do that even the same martial art can change greatly depending on how it is interpreted."
Then, he spoke the most surprising words I had heard since meeting him.
"I wish to see the Nine Calamities Demonic Art as interpreted by you."
"!"
I was stunned. Truly shocked.
And I realized it. Those words were my father acknowledging me as a fellow martial artist. No, it was more than that.
"Show me your Nine Calamities Demonic Art."
He was saying he wanted to see a version of the art that surpassed his own. My father, with all his immense pride, was saying this to me.
"And so, carve your own history here!"
My heart swelled. In this moment, the joy of being acknowledged by my father was greater than the joy of receiving the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. The tears that hadn't come then threatened to fall now.
Before he could hear my answer, my father stood up.
"Let's go."
He had returned to his usual blunt self.
I didn't say I would show him. Because I truly intended to.
Thank you, Father.
I... I am truly glad I came back.
*
After leaving the Nine Calamities Demon Palace, I climbed to the summit of Daecheon Mountain.
Standing there alone, I recited the formula of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art over and over. I worked to engrave it into my mind forever.
My life depended on this. Everyone's lives depended on this.
And I reflected on the core principles and realizations my father had shared, over and over again. Had I not known these, it would have taken much longer to learn the art.
Forgetting even my hunger, I immersed myself solely in the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. My mind was clear and pure, and I felt a sense of ecstasy.
There was no 'me,' no 'father.' Eventually, even the Nine Calamities Demonic Art vanished. In a state of total trance, I perfectly imprinted the art into my soul.
*
The first place I went after descending Daecheon Mountain was the Pungryu Tavern.
As I entered, Jo Chun-bae came running out to greet me.
"Young Cult Leader! My sincerest congratulations! When I heard the news that you had become the Young Cult Leader, I wanted to rush to the Cult to see you."
He looked as though he truly wanted to hug me.
So, I gave him a sudden hug. Jo Chun-bae was so startled he looked like he might faint.
"You mustn't do this to someone as lowly as me."
"Lowly... let this be the last time you use that word. It's rude to say such things to a friend, isn't it?"
At the word 'friend,' Jo Chun-bae waved his hands in dismissal, saying, "Oh my." What more words were needed? His wrinkled face was filled with deep emotion.
"There has never been anyone like you, Young Cult Leader, and there never will be again."
"Show me that emotion through your cooking! I'm starving to death!"
I went up to the second floor.
As I looked at the wall where the Demon Buddha and the Poison King had left their marks, I saw that one more person had added to it.
Blood Heaven, stopping by for a drink with his disciple.
Surprisingly, it was a message left by the Blood Heaven Blade Demon, Gu Cheon-pa, who had come with Seo Dae-ryong.
It was impressive enough that they had come to drink together, but he had even referred to him as his disciple in the writing. I smiled happily, imagining the two of them.
A moment later, Jo Chun-bae came up with alcohol and snacks.
He looked at the new writing by the Blade Demon on the wall and said, "The Elder Blade Demon left that when he visited recently. It's all thanks to you, Young Cult Leader."
"It might have been thanks to me at first, but now it's because of our owner's taste in wine and cooking skills. Do you know how picky those people are?"
I tugged on Jo Chun-bae’s sleeve.
"Have a drink with me."
"Yes, I shall offer you a congratulatory cup."
"Do you know? This is the first congratulatory cup I'm receiving."
"Oh my! Someone as low... no, is it alright for you to receive your first cup from me?"
"I know, right? Out of all the Demon Lords, I thought of the owner first. I wonder why?"
Jo Chun-bae answered wittily.
"Perhaps because you were hungry?"
"Actually, I haven't eaten for a few days."
We laughed together.
I am different than I was before.
I am the one who went from being the Second Young Master to the Young Cult Leader, and the one who has even learned the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.
But I will continue to live an unchanging life.
I will live a life where I share drinks with Jo Chun-bae like this.
I believe the Ten-Star Great Achievement of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art can be achieved in the training grounds.
However, I do not believe the Twelve-Star Great Achievement can be reached there. I believe the path to the Twelve-Star stage can be found in a drink with Jo Chun-bae, in a single line drawn on a wall by the Extreme Evil Smiling Demon, and in a moonlit walk with Lee An.
My absolute principle regarding martial arts remains unchanged.
When the person changes, the martial art changes.
And I also know.
That the Demonic Way that does not break the table is ten times harder than the Demonic Way that does. Jo Chun-bae is the milestone of the Demonic Way that I must protect. When the smile disappears from his face, my Demonic Way will be heading down the wrong path.
And so, this is enough for my celebration. A grand one, just the two of us.
"Now, let's have a drink, Owner!"