Chapter 619: Why Did You Make It Without Our Permission?
Chapter 619: Why Did You Make It Without Our Permission?
The Demon Buddha was racing toward Wuhan.
Upon receiving the intelligence from Tongcheon Pavilion, he had decided that he was the only one who could handle this.
Hanwolgaek and the Byeoksan Sword.
They were opponents the First Young Master would not find easy to manage. In particular, the Demon Buddha knew all too well that Hanwolgaek’s grudge against the Cult was as deep as the abyss.
Just then, a voice drifted on the wind from far behind him.
“Wait a minute—!”
Recognizing the familiar shout, the Demon Buddha halted his light body technique.
Swoosh.
The figure who landed behind him, having moved with the speed of a lightning flash, was Geom Mu-geuk.
“For someone with such short legs, you’re incredibly fast,” Mu-geuk remarked.
“I see that becoming the Acting Cult Leader has emboldened you to make blatant personal attacks,” the Demon Buddha retorted.
“Sitting on the throne naturally breeds arrogance. Everyone, kneel!”
Though their conversation was laced with jabs, the expressions they wore as they looked at each other were bright.
“What is it?” the Demon Buddha asked.
“I’ve put you to work, so I should at least say goodbye.”
“Are you sure you didn’t chase me down just because I left without paying my respects to the Acting Cult Leader?”
“As expected! You understand the nature of power far too well. No matter how many stone statues you carve, Lord Demon Buddha, you are the very incarnation of the lust for power.”
The Demon Buddha snorted. He could feel that Geom Mu-geuk was intentionally provoking him. Just like his previous comment about carving statues only to sell them, Mu-geuk was telling him to return to the man he once was—to live vibrantly, without sinking into stagnation.
“I actually came because I have a favor to ask.”
Geom Mu-geuk began unwinding the Supreme Heavenly Silkworm Thread wrapped around the hilt of the Black Demonic Sword. The thread, which he had previously shared with the Extreme Evil Smiling Demon and the Drunken Demon, was now being passed to someone new.
“Please wrap this around my brother’s heart.”
The Demon Buddha accepted the Supreme Heavenly Silkworm Thread. At first, he hadn’t believed it—Geom Mu-geuk’s claim that he would save his brother while simultaneously competing for the succession. But now, he believed.
Yes, perhaps even back then, something like this had been wrapped around the First Young Master’s heart. Something invisible that protected him, something even more powerful than the physical thread he now held.
The Demon Buddha’s gaze shifted to the Black Demonic Sword. There was still some Supreme Heavenly Silkworm Thread left on the hilt.
Staring at it, the Demon Buddha spoke abruptly.
“What about me?”
Geom Mu-geuk laughed out loud, as if he took it as a joke.
But the Demon Buddha did not laugh.
“Is the First Young Master’s heart the only one that matters?”
“Lord Demon Buddha, surely you don’t need something like this?”
“I am also a man who bleeds when cut by a blade. Did you think gold dust would pour out of me instead of blood?”
“It wouldn’t look very cool for a Demon Lord to be wrapped in this kind of thing.”
“Have you never given it to the other Demon Lords?”
“…”
“I thought so. You just don’t want to give it to me.”
In the end, Geom Mu-geuk feigned defeat, unwinding the rest and handing it over.
“Why are you taking it when you won’t even use it?”
“I will use it.”
“You definitely won’t, Lord Demon Buddha!”
“We’ll see about that.”
If Mu-geuk had given it all from the start and said, 'Give half to my brother and keep half for yourself,' the Demon Buddha would have certainly refused, claiming he had no need for it.
That was why Mu-geuk had intentionally played the contrarian. Whether the Demon Buddha had guessed his intention and accepted it anyway remained unknown.
The Demon Buddha then looked at the leather pouch Geom Mu-geuk was carrying on his back.
“It looks like you brought that for me as well. Hand it over.”
He was incredibly quick-witted. Inside the pouch were three sets of protective armor taken from the Heavenly Demon Treasure Vault. One of them was a small-sized set specifically for the Demon Buddha.
“Why are there three sets?”
“If you happen to run into him, please give one to the Poison King as well.”
The Demon Buddha stared at Geom Mu-geuk with a look that said, 'There’s no way you don’t know.'
“That man won’t wear it.”
“Yes, he’ll probably say he hates it.”
“Then why?”
“People might think I’m sending you because you’re close to my brother, but that’s not the only reason I’m asking this of you.”
“Then what is it?”
Mu-geuk spoke of the true value he saw in the Demon Buddha.
“To make the impossible possible. You’re better at that than anyone else.”
After staring at Geom Mu-geuk for a moment, the Demon Buddha slowly began to wrap the Supreme Heavenly Silkworm Thread around both his wrists.
“You’re not sending me just because of your brother, are you? And it’s not just to make the Poison King wear armor, either.”
He had accurately grasped Geom Mu-geuk’s intention.
“You want me to stop the Poison King, don’t you?”
Instead of answering, Geom Mu-geuk gave an affirmative smile.
If Hanwolgaek, with his deep grudge against the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, went on a rampage, the Poison King would eventually have to step in. And the moment someone, deceived by the Poison King's youthful appearance, dared to spout nonsense, a fundamental principle would be broken.
The principle of: 'Do not piss off the Poison King.'
If things went poorly, it was a situation that could trigger an all-out war.
“Because only you, Lord Demon Buddha, can stop the Poison King.”
“And why is that?”
The Demon Buddha expected a grand, martial reason.
“Because you are the King of Herb Gathering, aren't you?”
The Demon Buddha couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected reasoning.
The playfulness vanished from Geom Mu-geuk’s face. He bowed his head respectfully.
“I am sorry for asking such a difficult task of you.”
Having finished wrapping the Supreme Heavenly Silkworm Thread, the Demon Buddha slung the leather pouch over his back. Because of his short stature, the pouch almost entirely covered his body.
“Now that you’ve become the Cult Leader, you’re already dumping burdens on me.”
“It’s a burden that only a small giant can carry.”
“You certainly have a way with words.”
The Demon Buddha turned and began to run again.
Geom Mu-geuk stood there and watched until he had completely disappeared. To be honest, watching was harder than going out and fighting himself.
But even if anxiety kept him awake at night, there were times when one simply had to watch. Like a parent’s heart for their child, it is only when we stand alone that we grow—both the one being watched and the one doing the watching.
Geom Mu-geuk turned in the opposite direction.
“Well then, shall I go back to the book I was reading?”
In a flash, his figure became a mere dot and vanished.
*
The carriage carrying Geom Mu-yang’s group passed slowly through the central streets of Wuhan.
Disguised as construction workers, they sat in the cargo bed of the worn-out carriage, taking in the surrounding streets.
Middle-aged martial artists walking with long strides, swords on their backs and robes fluttering; old men sitting in taverns, stroking white beards while sharing drinks; young martial artists laughing with youthful energy; Murim Alliance warriors passing by in uniform with sharp, disciplined gazes—everyone they saw belonged to the Orthodox Path.
In the distance, they could see the grand architecture of the Murim Alliance headquarters and a massive stone statue of a warrior symbolizing chivalry.
Ho-myeong didn't show it, but he was inwardly tense.
He had heard the stories, but this was his first time standing before the Murim Alliance headquarters. He wasn't the only one; the subordinates with him felt the same pressure.
It wasn't just the people. The numerous sects, large and small, visible along the way were all Orthodox followers of the Alliance. If a fight broke out, Orthodox martial artists would pour out from every direction.
They were truly walking through the dragon's den.
The place they eventually arrived at was a manor. It wasn't in a remote area, but just slightly off the main market street. Other houses were huddled close beside it, and the market they had just passed was only a short walk away.
It was a place where the grand buildings of the Murim Alliance looked even more imposing. It was right under the Alliance’s nose.
Everyone disembarked and entered the manor. Inside, parts of the buildings were collapsed, as if workers had been called in specifically for repairs.
“Welcome!”
The person who greeted them was the owner of the manor.
“I intend to renovate this place beautifully,” he said with a smile.
He was a martial artist from Tongcheon Pavilion.
“Now, now, let’s go in and rest for today. We start work tomorrow.”
Tongcheon Pavilion had staged the purchase of this manor to look like an expansion project. This ensured that Geom Mu-yang and the branch warriors, disguised as laborers, would not face any suspicion. They were sparing no support for the First Young Master.
Once the manor gates were closed, the branch warriors scanned the surroundings, checking the walls and roofs. After confirming there were no watching eyes, they retrieved the swords and protective armor hidden in the floor of the carriage and entered the building.
Once inside, the middle-aged man finally introduced himself.
“I am Hwa-in of Tongcheon Pavilion. It is an honor to serve such a distinguished guest.”
Normally, members of Tongcheon Pavilion used code names, but this time he revealed his real name. Although Geom Mu-yang had been sidelined in the succession struggle, he was still of the Heavenly Demon’s bloodline. That was why Hwa-in, the man responsible for Wuhan, had stepped forward personally.
“I look forward to working with you,” Geom Mu-yang replied briefly.
Branch Leader Ho-myeong stepped forward. “I heard you lost track of Gwak Yeong’s whereabouts?”
An unexpected answer followed.
“No.”
At that word, not only Ho-myeong but all the other warriors were surprised.
“Gwak Yeong returned to the iron workshop this morning.”
Geom Mu-yang’s expression stiffened. While it was good news that she had been found, it bothered him that she had returned so blatantly on the very day he entered Wuhan.
Ho-myeong felt the same. “It could be a trap.”
Geom Mu-yang nodded. “Perhaps.”
But even if it were a trap, there was no turning back.
That wasn't the only news waiting for them.
“There is something else you should know. Hanwolgaek is currently in Wuhan.”
Geom Mu-yang flinched at the name. Before he could react, more bad news followed.
“And the Byeoksan Sword will arrive soon.”
Ho-myeong quickly asked Hwa-in, “Are they here because of our operation?”
“We are currently verifying that.”
Gwak Yeong had returned of her own accord, and two famous masters of the Orthodox Path were converging on the city. The dragon's pond was beginning to seethe, and the roar of a hungry tiger could be heard from the den.
Ho-myeong looked at Geom Mu-yang. He knew that even if they were the targets, Mu-yang was not the type to run.
Sure enough, Geom Mu-yang calmly asked, “Where is Gwak Yeong’s house?”
“She has a residence within the Inner Court of the Murim Alliance.”
As a master artisan of the iron workshop, she had been provided with special housing. If it was the Inner Court and not the Outer Court, entry was nearly impossible.
“However, there is a tea house that Gwak Yeong frequents. She often stops there for tea after finishing work.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s a tea house called Hyanghyang in the market district.”
Information wasn't the only thing Hwa-in had prepared. He opened a wall closet filled with various martial robes.
“You cannot carry weapons in those laborer clothes, so please wear these. They are the most common martial robes seen here in Wuhan.”
He also provided them with new identities.
“If you are ever required to reveal your identity, say that you are disciples of the Revered Sword Sect, an Orthodox sect in Hunan.”
The Revered Sword Sect was a front for the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
“The disciples of the Revered Sword Sect are currently here to sightsee the Murim Alliance headquarters, following their eldest senior brother.”
Hwa-in brought a paper with names and assigned one to each person. If anyone were to check with the sect, the story would hold up.
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
Everyone began changing.
“Do not forget to wear your protective armor under your clothes,” Ho-myeong reminded them.
As he looked after his subordinates, Ho-myeong was bothered by the fact that only Geom Mu-yang lacked protective armor. However, he couldn't give him his own; he couldn't give the First Young Master the standard-issue gear of an ordinary warrior. Although he knew Mu-yang's martial arts were profound, he still wished he had something better to offer.
A short while later, they quietly slipped out through the back gate of the manor.
*
Geom Mu-yang was drinking tea alone at Hyanghyang.
The rest of the warriors were scattered—in the tavern across the street, on the roadside, in alleys, and in adjacent buildings—monitoring the surroundings. They had taken their positions with extreme caution.
In truth, today was meant to be reconnaissance. He hadn't expected to actually meet her on the first day.
— It’s her.
At Ho-myeong’s voice transmission, Mu-yang looked up to see a woman entering the tea house.
There was a large burn scar on the back of her hand. It was impossible to mistake her. She made no attempt to hide the scar; in fact, her sleeves were rolled up. Boldly revealing her wound, she was as beautiful in face and figure as the rumors suggested.
Gwak Yeong scanned the interior for a place to sit. That was when her eyes met Geom Mu-yang’s.
She gave a slight smile and a small nod.
Geom Mu-yang couldn't tell if she smiled because she recognized him, or if she was simply offering a polite greeting to a stranger. Regardless, one thing was unexpected: her aura was brighter than he had imagined.
Just then, Ho-myeong sent another voice transmission from outside.
— There appear to be no tails or ambushes.
Geom Mu-yang also circulated his qi to sense the surroundings, but neither the customers inside nor the street outside suggested any immediate danger.
She really just came to drink tea alone?
If so, all that remained was to subdue her and take her away. A carriage was already waiting.
But Geom Mu-yang remained cautious. The fact that things were going so smoothly made him even more wary.
Gwak Yeong sipped her tea while watching the passersby. Her gaze was deep, as if she were lost in thought. Then, a group of men passing by bowed to her. She greeted them in a bright voice and waved. Seeing their muscular builds, they were likely workers from the iron workshop.
As she turned her head back from the window to take another sip of tea, Geom Mu-yang was already sitting across from her.
It was a startling move, but she asked calmly, “Why do you sit without even asking for permission?”
In contrast, Geom Mu-yang took a forceful approach.
“And why did you make it without our permission?”
His very first words revealed his identity and served as an accusation. If she were to scream or try to run, her demonic and mute acupoints would be suppressed before she could even draw breath.
But Gwak Yeong’s reaction was entirely unexpected.
She leaned forward, bringing her face close to Geom Mu-yang’s, and said with utter confidence:
“Are you an idiot? Who asks for permission to make a counterfeit?”