Chapter 67: You’re at That Age
Chapter 67: You’re at That Age
The next day, I went to see my father.
I needed to report everything that had transpired with the Pungcheon Cult Leader. While my father likely knew the gist of it since it happened within the Cult, there was a world of difference between me telling him personally and him receiving a report from Sama Myeong.
As it happened, my father was in the middle of training. I waited outside until the signal came for me to enter.
“You may enter the training grounds.”
The voice echoing through the air belonged to Hwi, my father’s personal bodyguard. It had been a while since I’d heard it.
“It’s been a long time, Uncle.”
“Indeed, Young Master,” came the brief reply.
I had memories of holding Hwi’s hand and walking through the streets of the Ma Clan Village when I was a child. I think I used to pester him to buy me street food. Regardless, those memories remained fond ones for me.
“Uncle, let’s see each other’s faces properly sometime. I’ll treat you to a meal.”
“Understood.”
“Make it a casual one, Uncle.”
I couldn’t tell exactly how he took my gesture or what he currently thought of me. To me, it was a pleasant memory, but to him, it might have just been another mundane day in his life. Still, I needed to stay on good terms with him. He was the person my father trusted most.
Steeling myself, I stepped into the training grounds.
True to form, my father lunged at me with the Underworld King Step the moment I entered.
I evaded using the Blink Step and parried my father’s Heavenly Demon Sword with my Black Demonic Sword. It was the first time the two blades had clashed, and it was a far more dangerous attempt than simply dodging. Naturally, my father recognized the change in my realm instantly.
“Your skills have improved!”
My father had attacked with a significantly higher mastery of the Underworld King Step, yet I had blocked it in an even more perilous manner.
“They had to. I likely train more than anyone else in the Cult. No, wait—I’m probably second. Lee An trains the most.”
“And why do you not consider yourself third?”
I could guess from those words just how hard my father was training in the Wind God Four Steps.
Father, you’re doing well. You must reach Great Achievement. You absolutely must!
I walked out of the training grounds with my father. We spoke as we walked side by side.
“What brings you here?”
“The Pungcheon Cult Leader wants to join forces with me. I get the feeling there’s a rift between him and the Eight Demon Lords. Were you aware of this?”
I didn't bother mentioning that he had passed the Space-Time Displacement Technique to me. That was something the Pungcheon Cult Leader wouldn't want known outside, either.
My father viewed the core of the matter like this:
“It was arrogant of the Demon Lords to drag the Pungcheon Cult Leader all the way here. They should have gone to him to resolve things. If they intended to bring him here, they should have all gone together to request it properly.”
“They bruised his pride, then.”
There were likely many reasons why he was pushing to advance into the Central Plains, but if you peeled them back one by one, I suspected his wounded pride might be sitting at the very bottom.
“Neglecting things because they seem trivial is what eventually leads to the greatest problems. This was a clear blunder by the Demon Lords.”
I could catch a glimpse of my father’s inner turmoil. If he had his way, he’d probably love to pit the Demon Lords against the Pungcheon Cult Leader, watch the show, and then wipe out every single one whose loyalty was lacking.
However, if they—the main force of the Cult—collapsed, it was obvious the Murim Alliance would strike. To my father, the Eight Demon Lords were a necessary evil.
“Then why did the Pungcheon Cult Leader come to me instead of seeking you out, Father?”
My father’s answer was firm.
“First, because he finds me difficult to deal with. Second, because he thinks you’re easy to use.”
“What does he intend to do by using me?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“Ask your strategist that question.”
“I don’t have a strategist.”
“Then find one.”
“Where am I supposed to find someone as brilliant as Strategist Sama?”
My father merely gave a short snort.
“Spoken with the ease of a man who already has one!”
Truly, finding a strategist as clever as Sama Myeong was my ultimate task.
“Are you not doing well enough without one?”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but most of it has been a matter of good luck.”
I was navigating situations based on my vast experience from before my regression; I wasn't naturally the strategist type. I desperately needed a strategist to support me with foresight and insight.
“Just answer me this one thing. What is it that the Pungcheon Cult Leader wants?”
My father stopped in his tracks and answered.
“His dream is to advance into the Central Plains.”
“But he’s a man who won’t leave his throne just to guard a sacred relic?”
“That is simply his obsessive personality.”
“So his dream is the Central Plains. I see.”
In my life before regression, the Pungcheon Cult Leader never made it into the Central Plains. Because Hwa Mu-gi had swept through the Murim, the Cult Leader died in the Outer Lands without ever daring to set foot in the Central Plains.
But because I had regressed, his life was changing too. He had come to the Central Plains, and specifically to our Cult, when he never would have originally.
“For generations, the Blood Cult of the Outer Lands has eyed the Central Plains. They have never once succeeded, but the desire to advance into the heart of the land is in their very blood.”
“Now I understand why he sought me out.”
I already knew all of this without having to ask, but I acted as if I were learning it from him for the first time. Sometimes, one must act like they don't know even when they do. It wasn't so much hypocrisy as it was a form of respect toward my father.
Most parents in the world want their children to come and ask them things like this. Would my father be any different?
At least in this regard, he wasn't. If he were, he wouldn't have said what he did next.
As he was about to head inside, my father added bluntly, “Since you’re already here, stay for a meal before you go.”
“Yes, Father!”
I liked it best when my father told me to stay for a meal. But I didn't say that out loud. If I did, he’d probably never ask me again.
He was a man who was never easy to handle.
*
When I returned to Huangquan Pavilion after finishing the meal with my father, I found an unexpected visitor waiting for me. It was the Demon Buddha.
“Welcome, Elder.”
“I intended to visit sooner, but I am late.”
This was the first time I had seen him this close. He was even shorter than he appeared from a distance, and looking at his golden skin made me want to reach out and touch it.
The Demon Buddha. The undisputed right-hand man of my older brother.
“Please, have a seat.”
“I shall.”
The Demon Buddha sat down. He absolutely loathed being looked down upon. That was likely why he kept his back so incredibly straight even while sitting.
“A friend of mine has had an important sacred relic stolen; how could I simply sit idly by? I came to see how the investigation is progressing.”
“I am currently investigating the matter personally.”
“Is it truly a fact that a thief broke in?”
“A fact? What do you mean by that?”
When I asked with feigned innocence, his expression seemed to say, Are you really asking because you don't know?
“How could anyone believe that a thief broke into the Inner Court of our Cult?”
“Would it not be even harder to believe that the Pungcheon Cult Leader staged the whole thing?”
From the start, we created a tense atmosphere.
A faint golden light shimmered in his pupils. It was a phenomenon that appeared only in those who had reached Great Achievement in the Golden Daluo Demon Art.
Just how strong was the Demon Buddha? The Golden Daluo Demon Art he practiced was as tricky to deal with as the sorcery of the Soul-Seizing Demon Lordic Art.
“If a thief truly did enter the Inner Court, the Cult’s reputation will be severely damaged.”
“I suppose so.”
“Should we not handle this quietly?”
“And how would we do that?”
“How about sending him back to the Outer Lands first so he cannot keep blabbing? It’s not as if his presence here helps catch a thief that can't be caught anyway.”
He was clearly testing me. He was convinced it was a staged act and likely believed I was helping with the ruse.
“Would he listen to the words of a mere Pavilion Master like me?”
“I heard the Pungcheon Cult Leader sought you out?”
“He came to offer his greetings.”
“The Pungcheon Cult Leader believes you will become the successor.”
“He gave no such indication. Why do you think that?”
“Because he is not the type of person to seek someone out otherwise. He is a man accustomed to receiving greetings, not giving them. If such a man sought you out, it means he saw the potential of a successor in you.”
Even as he spoke, he constantly watched my reactions, trying to read my inner thoughts. I felt a bit sorry for him, but that was an endeavor even my father failed at.
“Second Young Master, for the sake of the Cult, you must send him back.”
His words aimed for two birds with one stone. If I tried to send him back, that was good for him. If I refused the suggestion, he could frame it as me not acting for the good of the Cult.
“No. If that’s the case, we must not send him back.”
“What do you mean?”
“As you said, he will use this incident as an excuse to tarnish the Cult’s reputation. Then we must keep him here. He won't be able to speak recklessly as long as he is within the Cult. I will give him a subtle warning—that if he wants to find the relic, he shouldn't open his mouth carelessly.”
For a moment, the Demon Buddha was speechless. Of course, he wasn't the type of man to be easily swayed or to leave in a worse position than he arrived.
“The Pungcheon Cult Leader is a sly old fox. He definitely has other motives.”
“Then I shall pretend to join forces with him to uncover those motives.”
“With such stubbornness, it seems you will become a fine Huangquan Pavilion Master in the future.”
“I am usually like this regarding things I believe to be right.”
The Demon Buddha took those words as a rebuke, implying that he was not a 'right' person. Sensing an opportunity, the Demon Buddha quickly formed a hand seal with his fingers.
Dharma Light Seal!
Instantly, a golden radiance erupted from the Demon Buddha’s body.
Against this light, more intense than the sun, an opponent wouldn't be able to open their eyes for a moment. To masters of the Demon Lord level, this split second was as long as an eternity. Should I stab him here? Or there? No, let’s stab both.
I closed my eyes.
But before I did, I realized something. My eyes were barely affected by that light. I could clearly see the golden light pouring from his body and the Demon Buddha moving at its center.
What shone in that moment was not the Golden Daluo Demon Art, but my New Eye Technique.
However, I intentionally kept my eyes closed. There was no need to reveal my true capabilities to the Demon Buddha. When I opened my eyes again, the Demon Buddha’s face was right in front of mine.
His face, which looked like both a child’s and an adult’s, felt strangely alien. The look in his eyes said exactly this: If I had intended to kill you, you would already be dead!
He was a man who had every right to be confident. There were five hand seals in the Golden Daluo Demon Art. One didn't need to experience it to know how terrifying the subsequent attacks would be after being blinded like that.
I said nothing. I didn't show terror, but I intentionally displayed a reaction of being startled and fearful.
Thinking that this was a sufficient warning, the Demon Buddha stood up. He said the exact opposite of what the Blood Heaven Blade Demon had said when he first visited me.
“I wish to see you often. To drink tea like this and share stories. If you are with me, your life will be filled with nothing but good things.”
“Please share them with my brother instead.”
The Demon Buddha laughed with satisfaction at my childish arrogance.
“Yes, you’re at that age. I’ll see you again, then.”
“Take care on your way out.”
As he scurried out of the room, the stiff expression I had forced onto my face relaxed, and the room that had been dyed gold returned to its original state.
Listen here, Demon Buddha. It would be better for you if you didn't see me often. So far, there are only three types of Demon Lords who have become entangled with me.
Those I’ve befriended, those I’m becoming friends with, or those who are dead.
Which one do you think you are? For now, it doesn't seem like we’re going to be friends…
In that case, do you have the confidence to become the fourth type?