Chapter 137
Chapter 137
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 137
Chapter Title: As Much as It Empties, It Fills (3)
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Mok Ilgwang had recovered from his internal injuries at an astonishing speed, to the point where he could now move freely. It was a truly terrifying rate of recovery.
A smile spread across Mok Ilgwang's face as he swung his arms around.
Hwang Hye-ryeong watched him and let out a comment.
“Scary!”
Mok Ilgwang's shoulders drooped. Hwang Hye-ryeong smiled at the sight.
“Still, I'm glad you're fully recovered.”
“Yes!”
Mok Ilgwang replied loudly, as if his shoulders had never drooped. Bang Jinbo muttered at the sight.
“That guy's pretty bad off too.”
He shook his head.
Mok Ilgwang looked like he could chew up evil spirits. Yet here he was, elated or dejected by every word from Hwang Hye-ryeong.
Seeing such a mismatched display with his intimidating appearance naturally drew a chuckle. But since he couldn't laugh outright, Bang Jinbo turned his head and held it in.
They were currently passing through the Yuexi region at the entrance to Anhui Province, after crossing Hunan.
Anhui was full of mountains, and even more full of lakes. Cross a mountain, and a massive lake would block the way; cross the lake, and a towering peak loomed oppressively.
Naturally, it took more time to cover the same distance.
But the group wasn't rushing.
Hurrying wouldn't make the lakes vanish or the giant mountains disappear.
Once his injuries were fully healed, Mok Ilgwang dismounted and started walking. Bang Jinbo took his place on the horse—a welcome change for the somewhat fatigued man.
The Yuexi region they traversed was famous for its tea.
The local tea was called Cui Lan, prized for its deep aroma and robust bitterness. Perhaps because of that, the streets overflowed with the thick scent of tea as soon as they entered Yuexi.
Even the Cheongyeon Inn, chosen as their lodging by Damho and the others, was steeped in the rich tea fragrance. It lifted their spirits the moment they stepped inside.
A smile graced Hwang Hye-ryeong's face.
They had done quite a bit of camping on the way here. Living in the mountains made it tolerable, but she desperately wanted a hot bath.
Damho secured a separate annex building.
“I'll bathe first.”
Hwang Hye-ryeong dashed to the bathroom.
Mok Ilgwang said he would stay in the annex to guard her.
Damho and Bang Jinbo left the two and headed to the dining hall first.
The dining hall was crowded with quite a few people, many of whom appeared to be martial artists.
Damho and Bang Jinbo found a quiet corner seat away from the crowd. While Bang Jinbo ordered some dishes from the waiter, Damho gazed out the window.
As far as Damho knew, there were no famous sects or schools in Jamsan. Yet many on the street carried weapons.
Whispers from a nearby table reached Damho's ears.
“The Demonic Cult's return. This is big trouble. The world will soon drown in blood.”
“Who wouldn't say so? I'm so scared I even bought a sword.”
They weren't even martial artists. Yet they carried swords at their waists.
It was proof of how the Demonic Cult's emergence had stirred public unrest.
“And the Demonic Cult's got some nerve. Killing hundreds right in Ayang, the Murim Alliance's backyard.”
“Why do you think they're called the Demonic Cult? That's how ruthless they are.”
“True... No wonder the Nangong Family is on high alert.”
The Nangong Family had settled in Anhui centuries ago. Over that long time, they had steadily built their foundation, and now they were counted among the Five Great Families of the world, renowned far and wide.
No matter what anyone said, the Nangong Family ruled Anhui.
If the Nangong Family so much as sneezed, all of Anhui would catch a cold. The people of Anhui had no choice but to stay alert to the family's movements.
With the Demonic Cult bursting onto the historical stage, the Nangong Family was the most frantically active.
They split their forces, dispatching some to the Murim Alliance while tightening security at their main estate. They recalled branch disciples from outside and recruited capable warriors.
The Nangong Family's influence in Anhui was absolute, drawing many under their banner.
Anhui was thus in great turmoil. The inn where Damho stayed reflected that atmosphere perfectly.
Bang Jinbo whispered quietly.
“The Demonic Cult must be something else. It's all anyone talks about anywhere you go. Is there truly anywhere safe from the Demonic Cult?”
“Who knows.”
Damho muttered indifferently.
The world was abuzz with the Demonic Cult's emergence, but it held little interest for Damho.
His top priority right now was Hwang Hye-ryeong.
Just get her safely to Mount Hua. What happened to the world beyond that was none of his concern.
Plenty of people had stepped up to defend the Central Plains from the Demonic Cult's invasion—like grains of sand on the beach—and many had the ability to do so.
That was how the Murim Alliance had formed. As long as it existed, Damho had no need to intervene.
As Damho lost himself in thought, the food arrived. Bang Jinbo brightened first and portioned it out neatly.
“Wow! The smell is incredible. Dig in, brother.”
“Mmm.”
As Bang Jinbo hyped it up, the food was indeed quite tasty.
Damho savored it slowly. Bang Jinbo ate with a smile too.
As the two dined, Mok Ilgwang and Hwang Hye-ryeong entered the dining hall. Bang Jinbo greeted them with a grin.
“Come on in. The food's great.”
“The smell alone is amazing.”
Hwang Hye-ryeong smiled.
Fresh from her bath, her beauty shone even more dazzlingly.
Her damp skin and hair were enough to stir the hearts of many in the inn.
Lust flickered in some men's eyes, but it vanished the instant they saw Mok Ilgwang's massive frame and fierce scowl.
“Gasp! What a face!”
“Urk! Thought my heart would stop.”
No matter how beautiful Hwang Hye-ryeong was, none dared approach past a hulking brute like Mok Ilgwang. They only had one life, after all.
Hwang Hye-ryeong nibbled daintily and murmured.
“Tasty, but not as good as what Jinbo makes.”
“Hehe!”
“How do you make food so well, Jinbo?”
Hwang Hye-ryeong asked with genuine seriousness. Bang Jinbo looked sheepish.
“Just kept practicing, I guess.”
“So anyone can get good if they try hard?”
“Are you interested in cooking?”
Hwang Hye-ryeong nodded. Bang Jinbo beamed.
“If you're interested, it's not that hard to learn. Want me to teach you?”
“Really?”
“We're heading to Mount Hua together anyway, and cooking isn't that tough.”
“Great for me then. Promise?”
“Yes!”
Hwang Hye-ryeong smiled happily at his reply. A smile tugged at Mok Ilgwang's lips as he watched her.
“Little brother, thanks!”
“No problem.”
Hwang Hye-ryeong asked cautiously.
“Anything you need?”
“Nope. Oh, we can go to the market together tonight.”
“Market?”
“To cook well, you start by learning to pick good ingredients. That's the most important part.”
“Really?”
Hwang Hye-ryeong's eyes sparkled.
She had been to markets plenty, but never to buy cooking ingredients.
Her gaze turned to Damho.
“Can we go to the market after, big brother?”
“Mmm.”
At Damho's permission, a radiant smile bloomed on her face.
“Awesome. Let's go shopping!”
“Hehe!”
Hwang Hye-ryeong raised her voice excitedly, and Bang Jinbo let out his signature laugh.
Mok Ilgwang smiled watching the two.
They invited Damho along, but he quietly declined.
After finishing their meal, the three headed to the market together, while Damho returned to the annex.
A majestic tree stood in the annex courtyard, there long before the Cheongyeon Inn was built.
Damho sat beneath it.
Leaning against the thick trunk, he closed his eyes, and a flood of thoughts surged like a tidal wave. Damho pruned away the useless ones, leaving only a single focus.
Dark Form Fist.
The fist style now called Lone Walker Style, uniquely his own.
Dark Form Fist had displayed near-perfect power on the battlefield. Its techniques and destructive force were flawless compared to other martial arts.
The only issue was its limited utility in one-against-many fights.
But that could be countered by varying the techniques, so it wasn't a major problem.
The real problem was the Heart Devil Realm.
He had nearly fallen into it before, drawn by the word "lone traveler." That time, in an empty old bookstore, it was fine, but in the heat of battle, it would spell disaster.
Damho calmly contemplated himself and the Dark Form Fist.
His body alone was a perfect weapon. The slight limp from his damaged left leg muscles was no longer an issue.
Through countless battles, Damho had turned that weakness into a strength, integrating the insight back into the Dark Form Fist.
Physically, at least, there were no problems.
The issue lay in his mind.
Damho knew well he wasn't normal.
His psyche was thoroughly broken.
The trauma of childhood loss, isolation on Mount Hua, twisted human relationships—all had warped him severely to one side.
He viewed everything through his own lens, numb to others' pain.
Nothing stirred him except a few precious things.
A life utterly alone. An isolated existence.
‘Is that why the term "lone traveler" pulled me so?’
After his village's massacre, darkness filled his heart. Even with his master, and now with his sister, it lingered.
The darkness was part of him—nay, it was him.
Eradicating it from his heart was impossible. Above all, Damho had no desire to.
‘What should I do?’
Damho pondered and pondered.
Mere idle thoughts, yet he was desperate.
He had lived desperately since childhood, and he thought desperately now.
Slackness meant carelessness to him, and carelessness meant death.
Knowing that all too well, he stayed ever vigilant, never letting anyone close.
The one he had allowed close was only Master Hyeonso.
Thinking of Master Hyeonso suddenly made Damho miss him fiercely.
He yearned to see his smile, hear his kindly voice.
This was a first, leaving Damho flustered.
Boom!
The Dark Soul Heart Technique suddenly roiled violently.
The energy, until now tightly controlled, surged wildly on its own.
‘Why?’
Damho panicked.
He tried to rein it in at first. But suppressing the rampaging Dark Soul Heart Technique outright was impossible.
“Urk!”
Damho's face twisted.
Pop, pop!
Veins bulged under his skin. His whole body trembled in spasms.
Pain like his body tearing apart gaped his mouth wide. He had thought himself numb to pain, but this sudden agony ravaged him, proving how wrong he was.
It felt like molten lava raced through every vein. The intense heat threatened to incinerate everything.
Blood trickled from Damho's mouth. Bright red.
An ill omen.
Left unchecked, it could cause severe internal damage—or death.
He had to calm the rampaging qi coursing through him.
Tremble!
But that was mere wishful thinking.
The lava-like energy invaded his mind. His consciousness blurred.
If he let go now, his body would be devoured by the Dark Soul Heart Technique.
‘Should I let go?’
That thought crossed his mind.
Heart Bears Heaven's Image—hold the heaven's form in your heart,
Heart Holds Heaven's Weight—bear heaven's heaviness in your heart's core.
When heart moves, heaven is governed.
Heavy heart moves heaven.
Suddenly, a passage from the Heavy Heaven Heart Mantra surfaced.
A verse he had forgotten amid practicing the Dark Soul Heart Technique.
‘A heavy heart moves heaven?’
A line he had never fully grasped. Yet now, it felt within reach.
In that instant, Master Hyeonso's voice echoed again.
—Just keep your heart firm. That's all you need, my child.
A hallucination born of his own mind. Damho knew that. Yet a smile rose.
—Isn't it, Hoya?
‘Yes.’
The master asked, the disciple answered.