The Altar of the Eight Demon Dragons
In the Geupyullyeong Infirmary of the Ten Thousand Mountains
—Squelch.
Muddy water sprayed up to his knees with every rough step he forced forward.
“Hah… hah…!”
Jeokmaryeong leaned his shoulder against the wall, gasping for breath.
“Lord Jeokmaryeong, a-are you all right? We made it here as you ordered, but…”
The Nine Killing Stars pursuit team member who had half-carried him this far kept glancing nervously up and down the damp corridor.
“If they catch us here, we’ll be rats in a trap.”
“Hah… hah. Right now this is the only place in the entire jianghu that can treat my wounds. And I know exactly how those bastards upstairs think.”
Bandages covered Jeokmaryeong’s entire body. Even the emergency measures could not hide how deathly pale he was; he looked ready to die at any moment.
“Those swine would never imagine I’d come crawling back. Demons on the outside, peace-fattened pigs on the inside…!”
He shoved his subordinate aside and staggered toward the iron door at the end of the corridor. Before he could even knock, the door swung open as if it had been waiting.
“Exactly so. I’ve lived in the Ten Thousand Mountains more than forty years, and you are still the most battle-mad demon I’ve ever seen, Jeokmaryeong.”
A tall old man emerged, his face a map of deep wrinkles framed by a long white beard.
Clutching his side, Jeokmaryeong spoke.
“Physician Taemusa…! Does the Geupyullyeong branch still hold to its vow of neutrality in every power struggle, treating whoever comes seeking medicine? Does that declaration still stand?”
“….”
Taemusa regarded him in silence for a moment, then turned to the trembling subordinate.
“How did you manage to drag this walking corpse all the way here? It’s no short distance. Were you trying to die on the road?”
“W-well… Lord Jeokmaryeong insisted that even if he died on the way, this was the only place that could treat him…”
Taemusa beckoned.
“Come in. Your body is such a rag I hardly know where to start stitching—”
—Crash!!!
Jeokmaryeong’s eyes rolled back and he pitched face-first onto the floor. Looking down at the barely breathing man, Taemusa clicked his tongue.
“Live long enough and you see everything—even this battle-fiend reduced to a heap of rags. You there, subordinate? Come in as well. Injuries this severe will need an assistant.”
“Urgh!!”
—Gush.
Jeokmaryeong vomited black blood mixed with shreds of his own organs. He could not even turn his head; the blood surged up half a span like a reverse underground spring before spilling from the corner of his mouth.
He lay in a tub filled with every kind of medicinal herb, submerged to the ears, half his body underwater.
—Drip, drip….
Blood droplets fell from him and bloomed faintly in the water. Beside the tub, Taemusa worked at blinding speed with blood-smeared shards of black obsidian and needles, cutting and stitching, cutting and stitching again.
“Being a demon, your body corrodes the tools far faster than a normal man’s. Another bundle, quickly.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
The subordinate handed over fresh obsidian shards.
—Clatter.
Taemusa tossed the spent pieces into an empty bucket already heaped with blackened, smoking fragments.
“This next part will hurt more. But the cross-section leaves me no choice.”
He took a branding iron glowing on the charcoal fire.
—Sizzle.
“U…uaaaaagh!!”
Jeokmaryeong screamed like a madman and thrashed. Water sloshed violently. His limbs were locked in cold-scent stone shackles.
Wiping black blood from his forehead, Taemusa said flatly,
“Stop moving, I said. I’ve only finished three-tenths. Subordinate, what are you doing? Hold his shoulders properly—I can’t cauterize like this.”
“Y-yes…!”
White-faced, the subordinate pinned Jeokmaryeong’s shoulders.
“Forgive me, Lord Yama King!”
“Aaaagh!!”
In the space of a single shichen Jeokmaryeong fainted and woke more than seven times.
Time passed.
A day passed.
A week passed.
Even after every treatment was finished, Jeokmaryeong spent another full week submerged in the black water with a reed clenched between his teeth.
—Flash.
His eyes opened beneath the black surface. He opened his palm, then clenched it into a fist.
—Splash!
He gripped the rim of the tub and rose.
“As expected of the Yama King. Even after soaking in the mixed blood of thirty-seven demonic spirit beasts of the Ten Thousand Mountains, your recovery is remarkable.”
Taemusa, smoking a long pipe and reading a book without the slightest show of surprise, held something out.
“A welcome-back gift.”
It was a plain white mask with no features.
“….”
Jeokmaryeong accepted it expressionlessly. Taemusa waved a hand, pipe still in his mouth.
“Your clothes were shredded, so I left one of my old black sets over there. Black always suits you anyway. Once you’re dressed, the exit to the outer Ten Thousand Mountains is that way—vanish without a trace. Neither I nor the Geupyullyeong branch want any part of your factional wars. I’ve already hidden your subordinate somewhere safe, so don’t worry about him.”
“My thanks, Physician Taemusa.”
Jeokmaryeong changed, pressed the white mask over his face, and tightened his wrist guards—then paused.
“…My body feels different.”
Taemusa tapped ash from his pipe and answered indifferently.
“When a body is shattered to pieces and rebuilt, it is closer to a newborn than a recovered patient. Especially one steeped from birth in the blood of demonic spirit beasts that ordinary people use only a sip of for internal injuries. And your constitution in particular…”
He knocked more ash into the tray.
“Did you not say it descends from the ‘Forgotten Guardian’? The process of destruction and restoration may simply have refined the body further as a byproduct.”
Jeokmaryeong opened and closed his fist.
“Not a bad feeling. Stay healthy, Physician Taemusa.”
As he walked toward the door, Taemusa called after him.
“Hm? That way isn’t the exit.”
“I know. I’m going to see to one of the two reasons I returned to the Ten Thousand Mountains in the first place.”
Taemusa’s mouth fell open.
“…What?”
Jeokmaryeong melted into the darkness like a shadow.
A white sun of perpetual daylight hung in the sky. The whole world was dark.
—Thud! Thud-thud!
The higher he climbed toward the summit, the thicker the black mist and dampness grew.
That bastard definitely absorbed the Sichuan Tang Family Guardian’s jewel. Being able to absorb an unprocessed jewel means he already possessed one. Yes… now I understand why the bastard child was so strong.
Violet light flickered behind the white mask and scattered into the dark.
And that bastard even announced he would fight in the Guardian Tournament at the Reincarnation Sutra realm…. To kill him for certain next time—
The violet eyes narrowed beneath the mask.
I need a jewel of my own. And there is only one place left that has one.
Massive stone pillars, each as thick as four grown men standing together, began to appear one by one. The higher he climbed, the more they multiplied exponentially. As he neared the center, Jeokmaryeong’s senses sharpened to a razor edge.
The Zhongnan Sect Guardian’s jewel…. It should still be stored here. I’ll snatch it and leave at once.
Two years earlier the Zhongnan Sect’s Guardian had been murdered and the jewel stolen. The orthodox factions had searched, but the Murim Alliance, fearing chaos, had crushed Zhongnan’s furious protests and sealed the case in darkness. For two years the missing jewel never resurfaced in the jianghu. Not a single orthodox master ever imagined it was being kept inside the Heavenly Demon Cult’s Ten Thousand Mountains.
Even I was surprised. I never thought an insider had penetrated so deep.
In the distance rose a colossal temple carved into a cliff face that held a vast cavern.
“—That’s what I’m saying. Exactly.”
“Hah, I’ve never seen things this unsettled lately, have you?”
Voices ahead made Jeokmaryeong’s eyes fly wide.
—Stamp!
The left foot he had been about to plant slammed into the ground like a stake. He flung himself backward.
—Flutter.
His robes billowed as he vanished into the shadow of one of the countless pillars.
Confusion gripped him.
I’ve watched this place for nearly ten years. There should never be guards at the summit altar at this hour—
A flood of demons poured from the temple entrance. At their head stood the Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult, clad in a robe embroidered with a black dragon.
What in the—!!
Jeokmaryeong poured every scrap of strength into erasing his presence.
—Ssshhh…
The last faint trace of his energy vanished completely. A rat scurrying across the stone floor ran straight over his knee, up his shoulder, and across his back without the slightest hesitation.
In his hunger for knowledge he had once sought out every search team and anyone who could teach him, and he had learned. While moving he was still imperfect, but while holding still he could hide his presence better than anyone.
Why has the Cult Leader come to the altar?
He checked again and again, unable to believe his eyes. That deathly pale skin and the black-dragon robe could be worn by only one person among the entire leadership of the Heavenly Demon Cult.
Khh…! I’ll wait until they pass, take only the jewel, and leave. Even revenge has an order.
He ground his teeth and focused every fiber of his being on remaining hidden. Discovery here meant instant encirclement and death like a rat driven into a corner.
But what is this about? The Cult Leader himself waiting for someone? Impossible.
The Cult Leader stood with hands clasped behind his back, staring into the darkness with clear impatience.
“…and the Nine Killing Stars have still not all returned.”
Even as a subordinate reported, the Cult Leader raised a hand for silence and kept his gaze fixed on the dark.
—Whoooosh….
A chill wind blew. And as if it had always been there, a colossal silhouette stood within the darkness.
Merciful heavens.
The Cult Leader and every member of the Heavenly Demon Cult slowly sank to their knees before the black figure.
In a calm voice the Cult Leader spoke.
“We greet the Evil God who shall become the sole absolute of this world, the chief of the Eight Demon Dragons.”
From the darkness a gigantic hand slowly extended toward the Cult Leader. The hand was damp and clammy. Sticky fluid dripped from it. Fingers unfurled, palm opening toward the Cult Leader.
The Cult Leader flinched.
A dark, gloomy voice spoke.
The Cult Leader drew an iron casket from his robes.
“The one you desired—the Emei Sect Guardian’s jewel, freshly obtained. It has only just completed its blooming ceremony, and as planned it will be optimal for the perfect birth of the Eight Demon Dragons.”
The massive hand closed around the casket and withdrew into the darkness.
—Crunch.
The lid was torn away like a stalk of millet. A violet jewel was lifted free and swallowed into the dark without hesitation.
The Cult Leader continued.
“As a precaution we also finished modifying the Zhongnan Sect Guardian’s jewel. Now that the Emei jewel has been absorbed, that modification is no longer necessary, but it will still lighten the burden. Once the Emei jewel stabilizes within your body, we shall offer it as well, my lord.”
—Rumble….
The silhouette in the darkness said nothing. It simply turned its enormous body and vanished once more into the dark. Even after it was gone, the Cult Leader and his retinue kept their heads pressed to the ground for a long time. Only after a suitable interval did they rise as if nothing had happened and hurry down from the altar, the Cult Leader at their head.
What… what did I just witness?
Jeokmaryeong muttered. His entire body was soaked in cold sweat. He looked down at his own hand.
—Crackle…
Without realizing it he had clenched so hard that a stone in his grip had been crushed to powder and was trickling away.
—Chatter-chatter.
His teeth were chattering.
I… the Yama King… am trembling?
Never before had he felt demonic energy so dense. It was as if he had looked upon darkness itself. Shock held him frozen.
“…No. Don’t think, Jeokmaryeong. If you think, you’ll turn to stone.”
He clenched his jaw, kicked off the stone floor, and sprinted toward the altar with everything he had.
“Eight Demon Dragons or whatever—they can go to hell. I’m taking the Zhongnan jewel and running. Focus only on that!”
He entered the altar. The path carved through the cavern was a single long tunnel lined with candles. He ran at full speed. Just as he remembered, no guards remained to protect the most sacred place in the Ten Thousand Mountains.
He kicked the door open.
—Bang!
Before him rose a tower surrounded by countless night-luminous pearls. Atop it lay a lake of flowing mercury. In the center of the glittering mercury was an island, and upon that island rested a blue-green jewel. In front of it a woman knelt with her back turned.
Jeokmaryeong strode forward roughly.
“I already know there’s no one else around. But if you try activating mechanisms or formations, it won’t be fun—”
“I already knew you would come.”
The woman, eyes covered by a gray veil, turned calmly.
“Seeing the future is one of the few talents I possess, Yama King.”
“Hmph. A mere shaman who pollutes jewels with demonic energy. I’ll warn you once.”
He kept walking.
“I know that sly tongue of yours all too well. I’m only interested in the Zhongnan jewel behind you. One more useless word and I kill you on the spot.”
In a single bound he crossed the river of mercury. The blue-green jewel was firmly set in a pure-white porcelain socket. It radiated a faint demonic aura and had already grown cloudy.
—Crack!
He smashed the pedestal and snatched the jewel in one motion, stuffing it into a sealing casket that lay nearby and tucking it into his robes.
“As a final courtesy, shall I give you one prophecy, Yama King?”
—Whoosh!
The instant the shaman opened her mouth, Jeokmaryeong’s hand shot out and covered her face. His eyes blazed.
“I told you not to open that mouth.”
“I was fated to die today regardless. Knowing there is no exception, I have long prepared to meet death.”
“This bitch still keeps talking?”
Violet flames began to flicker in his palm as he concentrated his internal energy.
“Fine. On second thought, I should kill you for the aftermath anyway. Your last prophecy nearly got me killed this time. All right—I’ll listen to one last story for the road to the underworld. Speak.”
From behind the gray veil the shaman spoke with calm, almost detached composure.
“This is the only prophecy I wish to give.”
Her voice suddenly changed, becoming like a nightmare whispering from the dark.
As the rival of inevitable blood, on the day you aid the one you hate most, all of this will end.
Jeokmaryeong blinked. He fell silent for a brief moment of thought.
“…!”
His eyes turned to axe-blades as he cut her off.
“Bullshit.”
—BOOM!!!
The force blast he unleashed punched straight through the shaman’s chest. She flew like a sheet of paper and slammed into the wall, collapsing in a spray of red blood without so much as a twitch of her fingers.
“Where do you get off spouting nonsense.”
Without another glance he turned and left. The altar was empty now. Only the Heavenly Demon Cult shaman remained, bleeding out alone.
Slowly, speaking a prophecy no one would ever hear, the shaman breathed her last.
And not a single soul heard the final prophecy of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s shaman.