Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Return to the Demonic Palace
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It was a clear day without a single cloud in the sky.
Mo Gwang, a gate guard at the entrance of the Ma-jeon, let out a long yawn.
“Aah.”
Looking up at the sky, he spoke to his colleague, Jang Sam, beside him.
“When we’re busy, I pray for things to quiet down… but now that it’s quiet, it’s just plain boring.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Weren’t you the one praying for no one to show up?”
“Who? Me?”
“Don’t you remember? That time.”
At that moment, Mo Gwang recalled the carts being carried out of the Ma-jeon several months ago.
The Sip-ma-jeon-in Tournament.
The countless boys and girls who had entered the Ma-jeon for it had come out as cold corpses.
“Let’s drop that subject.”
Mo Gwang shuddered and shook his head.
Although he was just a gatekeeper due to his lack of outstanding talent, he too had entered the Ma-jeon in his youth with lofty ambitions.
Witnessing the young heroes who arrived with dreams in their hearts being carried out as gruesome corpses had filled him with an indescribable anguish.
“Anyway, I wonder what the ones chosen as the Sip-ma-jeon-in are doing.”
Jang Sam muttered, gazing at the distant sky.
“I heard they each went to one of the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path to receive their true martial arts transmissions… but how would guards like us know anything about that?”
“Didn’t I just say we should drop the subject?”
Just as Mo Gwang frowned in irritation,
*Thud, thud.*
A shadow could be seen walking toward the Ma-jeon’s entrance in the distance.
The man wore a tattered martial arts uniform, but his build was impressive, and his eyes shone brightly. His face looked as if he had just shed his boyish features, yet he carried the dignified air of a lion.
‘He’s no ordinary person.’
Mo Gwang had been a gate guard for twenty years now.
Having dedicated his entire youth to this job, his ability to read people could put a fortune teller to shame.
“What brings you here?”
Mo Gwang’s tone was polite, yet he maintained the dignified demeanor befitting a gate guard of the Ma-jeon.
‘What kind of gaze is that…?’
The moment his eyes met the young man’s, his dignified air vanished, and his shoulders instinctively tensed.
“I’ve come to see the Head of the Man-bak-dang.”
“The Head of the Man-bak-dang, you say?”
Mo Gwang tilted his head at the young man’s words.
Baek Jeon-cheon, the Head of the Man-bak-dang, rarely showed himself and always remained in the depths of the Ma-jeon.
“He is not someone you can see just by asking. Do you have an appointment?”
Just then, Jang Sam, who had finally come to his senses, nudged Mo Gwang in the ribs.
“Weren’t there instructions from the Man-bak-dang yesterday?”
—In a few days, someone looking for the Head will visit the main hall. Do not ask for their identity; simply escort them politely to the Man-bak-dang.
“What instructions? I didn’t hear anything.”
But Mo Gwang had been away from his post and hadn’t heard the news.
“You, step aside. I’ll handle this, so don’t worry about it.”
Jang Sam pushed Mo Gwang aside and scratched his head.
“Please follow me. I will guide you to the Man-bak-dang.”
As he was about to lead the way, Mo Gwang waved his hand.
“What about the guest log? He has to sign the guest log, doesn’t he?”
“Shh. This was an order from Elder Go Hong, the Vice Head of the Man-bak-dang.”
As Jang Sam whispered and tried to leave, Mo Gwang grabbed his shoulder.
“Don’t you remember when the Head of the Gyeong-hwa-dang ordered us not to let anyone into the main hall without following procedure?”
“Aish, you inflexible old man. I told you this isn’t your business, didn’t I?”
As Mo Gwang and Jang Sam bickered in hushed tones,
“The guest log. I’ll sign it.”
The young man stepped forward with a guileless expression, and Mo Gwang politely pointed to the table.
“You can write here.”
The young man nodded, picked up the brush, and began to write.
—Jan-yang-pa…
As he wrote, a bitter smile touched his lips.
“I’ll write it again.”
Shaking his head, he picked up the brush again and wrote with a single, fluid stroke.
‘Jan-yang-pa?’
At that moment, looking at the guest log, the words ‘Jan-yang-pa’ suddenly triggered a memory in Mo Gwang.
‘The boy who came on the last day of the Sip-ma-jeon-in Tournament?’
Mo Gwang could not forget the memory of that day.
The desperate image of the boy in monastic robes, biting his own finger without hesitation with a sickening crunch to draw blood…
‘He’s grown this much in such a short time?’
Mo Gwang slowly rubbed his eyelids.
The shabby boy in monastic robes had transformed into a martial artist with a commanding presence.
“Is this sufficient?”
Startled by the voice, Mo Gwang looked down at the guest log again.
—Nang-ya-gak, Bu Eun-seol.
‘Nang-ya-gak!’
Looking at the log, Mo Gwang’s eyes nearly popped out of his head this time.
The Ten Sects of the Demonic Path.
To think that the name of one of the ten sects that supported the Demonic Martial World was written in the guest log!
‘He became a Sip-ma-jeon-in!’
Mo Gwang’s chest swelled with emotion.
The last boy he had guided had finally overcome all adversity to become a Sip-ma-jeon-in?
He even felt a sense of pride, as if he had played a part in it himself.
“My, my lord…”
Mo Gwang clutched his pounding chest and bowed his head respectfully.
“Please follow me!”
Guided by Mo Gwang, Bu Eun-seol slowly walked into the Ma-jeon.
‘This feels strange.’
Bu Eun-seol, too, was filled with a sense of novelty.
When he had come here before, he was a lowly salt maker who knew nothing of martial arts. But now, he was walking confidently through the Ma-jeon as an inheritor of Nang-ya-gak.
‘Am I the only one who’s changed?’
The Ma-jeon, upon his return, was as grand as ever, with a solemn atmosphere flowing through it.
Just like that day.
“This is the Man-bak-dang.”
When they finally arrived in front of the Man-bak-dang, built near the western courtyard of the Ma-jeon, Mo Gwang bowed his head.
“If you go inside, someone from the Man-bak-dang will guide you.”
Bu Eun-seol gave a slight nod and walked into the building.
Watching Bu Eun-seol’s back as he entered the Man-bak-dang, Mo Gwang quietly clasped his hands together.
Hoping that good fortune would bless the future of the boy who had survived hardship and trials.
“May your martial path be prosperous.”
* * *
Man-bak-dang.
It was the brain of the Ma-jeon, a place where brilliant scholars gathered, comparable to the Murim Alliance’s Chong-sa-jeon.
The only difference was that unlike the Chong-sa-jeon, which was filled with strategists who handled only strategy and tactics, the Man-bak-dang also managed the operations and administration of the Ma-jeon.
“Young Master Bu.”
As Bu Eun-seol entered the Man-bak-dang, a young man who seemed to have been waiting for him gave a light bow.
“My name is Sim Weol of the Man-bak-dang.”
The man named Sim Weol was not only very well-groomed but also appeared to be around the same age as Bu Eun-seol.
Seeing someone his own age, Bu Eun-seol was struck by the realization that Nang-ya-gak was filled with older men.
“I am Bu Eun-seol of Nang-ya-gak.”
“I have heard much about you from the Head. Now, please follow me.”
As Bu Eun-seol followed Sim Weol deeper inside, he saw a firmly shut iron door.
“Head. It is Sim Weol.”
Sim Weol spoke in a very respectful tone in front of the iron door.
“Young Master Bu of Nang-ya-gak has arrived.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the iron door opened with a rumbling sound.
Judging by the heavy noise, it seemed to be operated by a special mechanism rather than by human hands.
“Welcome.”
Stepping inside, he saw bookshelves filled to the brim with books, and beyond a wooden partition, an office with a desk, paper, and ink.
And sitting there was a middle-aged man with a refined appearance.
It was Baek Jeon-cheon, the Head of the Man-bak-dang.
“Your presence has grown even more commanding in the time since we last met.”
Bu Eun-seol wore a puzzled expression.
Baek Jeon-cheon was a man of high status, whose intelligence and acuity were on par with any master.
So why was he treating a fledgling like him with such courtesy?
“Hahaha. There’s no particular reason. It’s simply become a habit.”
Baek Jeon-cheon, having read Bu Eun-seol’s thoughts, spoke calmly.
“Unlike the Murim Alliance, the Ma-jeon tends not to place much importance on scholars.”
In the orthodox faction, brilliant scholars were highly valued and appointed to important positions.
But in the Ma-jeon, strategists were treated as weaklings who only used their heads because their martial skills were lacking.
This was due to the unique atmosphere of the Demonic Path, which revered only dominance and the strong.
“Bu Eun-seol of Nang-ya-gak pays his respects to the Head of the Man-bak-dang.”
Coming to his senses, Bu Eun-seol bowed to Baek Jeon-cheon with the utmost respect.
He had seen him throughout the Sip-ma-jeon-in Tournament, and Baek Jeon-cheon had played a significant role, along with Hyeok-ryeon-eung, in saving his life.
“The Sip-ma-jeon-in of Nang-ya-gak is being too formal.”
Baek Jeon-cheon wore a playful smile.
“How is it? I’ve heard that life at Nang-ya-gak is quite unique compared to other sects.”
“For me, it could not be better.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Smiling gently, his eyes deepened as if to get to the main point.
“You’ve heard the whole story, I presume?”
“I have.”
“This matter has put our Ma-jeon in a very difficult position. We cannot simply ignore the demands of the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path.”
Bu Eun-seol’s eyebrows drew together.
He was completely in the dark about the state of the Murim, so he knew little about the relationship between the Ma-jeon and the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path.
“Are the Ma-jeon and the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path separate entities?”
“It seems Nang-ya-gak is still indifferent to the affairs of the Murim. To think they haven't even told you about the Sip-ma-jeon-in.”
Baek Jeon-cheon smiled faintly and spoke again.
“The Ma-jeon is a union of demonic factions created by the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path joining forces. The two cannot be separated, but neither can they be called a single body.”
Seeing Bu Eun-seol’s confused expression, Baek Jeon-cheon continued.
“Normally, the position of the Ma-jeon’s Lord is taken by someone from one of the Ten Sects, but the current Lord is not from any of them. Furthermore, not all demonic factions are favorable toward the Ma-jeon.”
From Baek Jeon-cheon’s explanation, Bu Eun-seol was able to grasp two key points.
The Lord of the Ma-jeon, who stood at the pinnacle of the Demonic Martial World, and the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path were merely in a cooperative relationship.
And not all demonic factions were fond of the alliance known as the Ma-jeon.
“And to be frank, the Sip-ma-jeon-in project, despite the name ‘inheritor,’ is not about selecting successors for the Ten Sects. It was solely for the purpose of creating ten sharp swords to deal with the orthodox faction’s Great Righteous Masters.”
Bu Eun-seol’s expression remained unchanged.
He had already anticipated as much.
“You don’t seem very surprised.”
Baek Jeon-cheon smiled gently and continued.
“In other words, the Sip-ma-jeon-in Tournament is a plan created by the Ma-jeon to counter the Murim Alliance’s Great Righteous Masters. Most of the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path initially rejected it.”
A bitter smile formed on Baek Jeon-cheon’s lips as he went on.
“After all, they saw no need to bring in outside disciples just to kill the Great Righteous Masters. That’s why the current situation has come to pass.”
—The current Ma-jeon has no choice but to be mindful of the Ten Sects of the Demonic Path.
That was likely what Baek Jeon-cheon wanted to say.
It was also a way to explain why they had no choice but to forcefully summon Bu Eun-seol, who was training at Nang-ya-gak.
“I am fine with it. Whatever test I must face.”
As Bu Eun-seol answered resolutely, Baek Jeon-cheon let out a deep sigh.
“Do you happen to remember Kang Mu-ryun, the grandson of the Baek-ma-sa-ju?”
When Bu Eun-seol shook his head, Baek Jeon-cheon said,
“He was one of the three who attacked you at the end. He had inherited the true ultimate arts of the Baek-ma-sa, but he was killed because he underestimated you, Young Master Bu.”
“The three of them attacking together… is what you call underestimating me?”
“Please do not misunderstand. I am well aware of how outstanding your talents are, Young Master Bu.”
Baek Jeon-cheon continued.
“However, the frightening aspect of the Baek-ma-sa’s unorthodox methods is that no matter how many enemies there are, one can fight them as if facing a single person.”
Baek Jeon-cheon said in a low voice,
“But because Young Master Kang joined forces with his companions, his focus was divided, and as a result, he could not properly display the power of the Baek-ma-pyeon.”
Joint attacks require extremely precise rules and methods.
Fighting in a chaotic jumble could lead to allies destroying each other. It was no coincidence that a martial arts tactic known as ‘joint combat techniques’ existed in the Murim.
“If he had fought you one-on-one… perhaps you would not have been able to defeat Young Master Kang.”
Bu Eun-seol did not reply to that and instead changed the subject.
“Is the Head Instructor not in the Ma-jeon?”
Head Instructor Hyeok-ryeon-eung had been willing to face punishment to save Bu Eun-seol.
He figured that if Hyeok-ryeon-eung were in the Ma-jeon, he would surely have come to see him.
“He is currently out in the Jianghu, handling various matters.”
“Is it because of me?”
“Yes, it is.”
Baek Jeon-cheon answered honestly.
“The Head Instructor’s original position is Protector of the main hall. But for him to set aside the status of a Head and go out to handle affairs in the Jianghu… you could say he is receiving a rather severe punishment.”
“Why?”
Bu Eun-seol finally voiced the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he survived the Hell Diagram.
“The Head Instructor and I are complete strangers.”
A sharp gleam shot from Bu Eun-seol’s eyes as he stared at Baek Jeon-cheon.
“So why did he go so far as to accept punishment to help me?”