Chapter 258
Chapter 258
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 258
Chapter Title: Twice Without Regret
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‘What happened, you ask...’
Hyeok Mulin was certain of one thing.
No matter how many geniuses and eccentrics Cheon Sumyeong—as an ancient martial master—had encountered through countless battles and tribulations, he could never have witnessed a case like his own.
Even if he told him the truth, would he believe it?
That he had regressed into the past through death.
‘At least he won’t dismiss me as a madman.’
Hyeok Mulin himself still didn’t know the reason for his regression.
But he had cleanly averted his gaze from it.
Rather than chasing the cause, how he lived this newly gained life held far greater value to him.
Thus, his response to Cheon Sumyeong’s question wouldn’t be some bizarre tale.
"Two times."
Meeting Cheon Sumyeong’s eyes squarely, Hyeok Mulin spoke in a clear voice.
"I resolved never to regret it, not even twice."
"……."
Cheon Sumyeong fell into thought upon hearing Hyeok Mulin’s answer.
‘Never regret it, not even twice...’
When he had ascended as Heavenly Demon, had there been some profound regret weighing on him?
Life often brought turning points where mindsets shifted and enlightenment dawned.
Cheon Sumyeong surmised Hyeok Mulin had experienced something similar.
To him—who couldn’t discern whether it stemmed from specific events or life as a whole—it was a natural assumption.
‘Intriguing.’
Such words from Hyeok Mulin stirred even greater curiosity in him.
In truth, upon first hearing of his granddaughter’s divorce, rage had consumed him entirely.
Who had enabled Hyeok Mulin to claim the Heavenly Demon throne, a dream of every demon?
Wasn’t it the Cheon Clan’s unwavering support?
Yet he repaid that grace with ignorance of his station, delivering a unilateral divorce notice to her—it was utterly exasperating.
However, the more reports of Hyeok Mulin reached him, the more fascination rivaled that fury.
He had swayed five haughty patriarchs of the Seven Great Demon Clans, and even certain Demonic Scripture Sect leaders showed him favor.
And the most astonishing revelation.
‘He defeated Jungak.’
After emerging from seclusion, Cheon Sumyeong had lingered at the Cheon Clan’s main compound, catching up on recent events.
Among them, the most shocking was his son Cheon Jungak’s defeat at Hyeok Mulin’s hands.
From Cheon Sumyeong’s vantage, Cheon Jungak—the clan patriarch—remained sorely lacking.
By the exacting standards of an ancient martial master, he fell short as a warrior.
Yet Cheon Sumyeong acknowledged he wasn’t weak; the world hailed him as a powerhouse for good reason.
Still, such a man had fallen.
To that young warrior, without a trace of remorse left behind.
"Heh heh heh..."
Demonic Martial God Tournament or whatever—it mattered little.
Had Cheon Jungak’s loss diminished the Cheon Clan’s prestige?
Frankly, Cheon Sumyeong placed no great weight on that either.
He was merely the retired patriarch, having ceded control to his son, content to observe from the shadows.
In this affair, what captured his attention above all was Hyeok Mulin’s prowess.
Staring fixedly at Hyeok Mulin, Cheon Sumyeong spoke.
"I see. So that’s how it is."
Nodding as if grasping some revelation on his own, he addressed Hyeok Mulin.
"Even in your duel with Jungak, you didn’t unleash your full power."
Hyeok Mulin met the words with silence.
Inwardly, though, he was mildly taken aback.
‘He inferred that much from merely glimpsing a fraction of my Extreme Demon Realm?’
To counter the overwhelming pressure Cheon Sumyeong had exerted over the inn’s first floor, Hyeok Mulin had cloaked himself in a thin veil of Extreme Demon Qi.
Not wielded offensively, yet from that alone, Cheon Sumyeong had perceived it.
The gulf between Hyeok Mulin and Cheon Jungak wasn’t paper-thin—it was an insurmountable chasm.
And that divide had only grown since Hyeok Mulin attained the seventh star of the Pure Soul Divine Demon Art in the Central Plains.
‘The title of ancient martial master is well-earned.’
This marked Hyeok Mulin’s first direct encounter with Cheon Sumyeong.
No—this was his first time even laying eyes on an ancient martial master from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
In his previous life, he had been utterly beneath their radar.
Thus, facing the cult’s ancient martial master for the first time, Hyeok Mulin sensed it the instant their conversation began.
Different.
Simply feeling Cheon Sumyeong’s demonic qi made it visceral.
A profound depth beyond any opponent Hyeok Mulin had faced within the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
And different yet again.
He had crossed paths with Central Plains ancient masters like the Sole Poison Venerable and Mount Hua Sword Immortal.
But Cheon Sumyeong before him radiated an entirely distinct presence.
‘A true demon.’
He emanated the unmistakable aura of a genuine demon martial artist.
It was akin to things unseen now becoming visible, thanks to Hyeok Mulin’s own breakthrough.
Meanwhile, Cheon Sumyeong’s gaze upon Hyeok Mulin sharpened to a razor’s edge.
‘Such growth in mere years.’
He had witnessed marvels aplenty in his lifetime.
He’d thought nothing could surprise him anymore.
Yet this shock surpassed anything in his entire existence.
Hyeok Mulin’s confirmed trajectory, his realm defying his youth—it was astonishment incarnate.
‘And not even thirty.’
Had martial history ever seen such a feat at that age?
Cheon Sumyeong himself hadn’t; even the previous Heavenly Demon—lauded for transcendent talent—paled in comparison.
Out of specifications.
Even “irregular” fell short in describing Hyeok Mulin.
‘Did my eyes deceive me?’
Cheon Seohee’s marriage had been Cheon Jungak’s initiative.
His son’s bid to dominate the cult’s real power meshed with his granddaughter’s indifference to the union.
His input barely factored in, but as a family matter, he observed silently.
When Hyeok Mulin was selected, Cheon Sumyeong had discreetly appraised him from afar.
Disappointment overwhelming him afterward, he skipped the engagement rite and never sought him again.
There was potential—a sprout.
But blooming? Impossible, by his judgment.
The brutal path ahead demanded decades to nurture his talent, with no guarantee of fruition.
Yet.
‘A mere few years.’
Not decades—in just years, he had risen among the cult’s elite.
For the first time, Cheon Sumyeong questioned his vaunted insight.
As he wallowed in waves of awe and intrigue, Hyeok Mulin spoke.
"I heard your seclusion lasted quite some time."
"Indeed. I’ve secluded myself often, but this was by far the harshest."
Cheon Sumyeong heaved a heavy sigh, loath to dwell on it.
Hyeok Mulin regarded him steadily before replying.
"Yet you attained your goal, didn’t you?"
Silence descended on the inn.
Cheon Sumyeong fixed Hyeok Mulin with an icy glare, then spoke measuredly.
"...I never announced the seclusion’s outcome."
"Your emergence seals it. You’re not one to abandon seclusion prematurely."
From past-life knowledge, Hyeok Mulin knew Cheon Sumyeong always emerged triumphant, regardless.
Tenacious in pursuit of martial perfection, he never quit unsatisfied.
For such a man to exit meant success—as simple as plucking fruit from one’s pocket.
But Hyeok Mulin’s words struck Cheon Sumyeong like lightning.
‘He saw through that?’
He had kept this seclusion’s success secret, as with all prior ones.
Reported ratios of triumph and failure were artfully balanced.
Even his son and granddaughter accepted it unquestioned.
‘Never dreamed someone would notice.’
Hyeok Mulin now appeared utterly transformed in his eyes.
Anger over his granddaughter’s abandonment lingered, yet fascination eclipsed it.
Before seclusion, he had been unremarkable.
‘To evolve this profoundly.’
Chin in hand, Cheon Sumyeong pondered.
Soon, he addressed Hyeok Mulin.
"I came to discipline you for spurning the main house, but my resolve wavers."
His tone toward Hyeok Mulin was serene.
The intent, lethally sharp.
"Still, I cannot lightly forgive one who sullied our name."
"I understand."
Unintended or not, Hyeok Mulin’s rise inevitably dimmed the Cheon Clan’s luster.
Even a retired patriarch couldn’t idly watch his house’s fall.
Hyeok Mulin empathized, regretting nothing.
Meeting those resolute eyes, Cheon Sumyeong spoke deliberately.
"Thus, my final proposal."
This was his first—and last—offer.
"Remarry Seohee."
The sole path to absolution and renewed alliance for the name’s tarnisher.
Unlike before, this wasn’t a mere ploy.
No puppetry for the clan—he coveted Hyeok Mulin genuinely.
‘Never in my years have I desired anyone so.’
With him bolstering the Cheon Clan, none would rival their might.
No reply came; the inn steeped in prolonged hush.
Time crawled, then Hyeok Mulin’s voice shattered it.
Short, resounding clearly.
Utterly contrary to expectation.
"I refuse."
Hyeok Mulin’s response.
With that single word, the inn’s air turned to frozen steel.