The Third Son Enters the Cult Leader’s Palace
“Hoo.”
It had already been a month since he had been reincarnated as the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s third son.
Days had gone by with him shut away in his room, getting acupuncture, stuffing his stomach with medicinal broth, and sometimes even losing consciousness for several days at a stretch, barely able to hold on to awareness at all.
At least there was one piece of good news: strength had finally begun to return to his whole body.
Still, it wasn’t as if he had spent that time doing nothing but nursing his body back to health.
He had also, in his own way, learned a fair number of things about the demonic cult and about the Third Young Master.
- So, he was twenty-three. And his personality?
- If I may be so bold, he was so quiet before that it’s hard to believe you could have a conversation like this with him now. And…
Cheon Sohyeon had apparently been the kind of prodigy people even mentioned as a likely candidate for Cult Leader.
Of the Cult Leader’s five children, he had stood out most clearly, and sure enough, this body’s frame and bones were not bad at all.
‘No, they’re actually excellent.’
His body had been stiffened by severe internal injuries and long periods of immobility, but if he stripped away that layer of damage, the quality of the muscle he could feel beneath his fingertips and the solidity of his bones were at a level even Shaolin rarely saw.
Setting aside petty emotion, it was no exaggeration to say this was a constitution perfectly suited to martial arts.
For a warrior, it was a blessing beyond compare, yet Cheon Sohyeon had apparently failed to set aside his impatience, and so had slowly ruined himself.
- He didn’t show it on his face, but for the year or two before he lost consciousness, he looked terribly unstable. He also locked himself in the library for half a year without coming out, and after he did start appearing outside, he seemed lost in thought all the time, muttering to himself.
- So he’d completely lost his mind, then. And that led to qi deviation?
- Huh? Ah… ahem. That does seem to be the case.
He hadn’t heard the reason from anyone directly, since nobody had been close enough to tell him what had been weighing on the young man’s mind, but he had naturally come to understand it anyway.
There were two fatal flaws in this body—flaws that could not be ignored.
First, demonic energy had taken root in the dantian.
‘Damn it.’
Demonic energy flowing through the body of a Buddhist disciple?
‘What sin did I commit to deserve this…’
It was blasphemous enough to make his teeth ache, but in truth, for the third son of the demonic cult to practice demonic arts was only natural.
So he could hardly call it a flaw, but from the perspective of learning Shaolin martial arts, it was fatal.
The demonic energy that had seeped into the dantian and meridians flatly rejected the pure force of the orthodox schools. If he forced in a conflicting current and made his injuries worse, he would never rise again, so there had been no choice but to leave that avenue untouched.
To make matters worse, his energy had grown even more turbid, to the point where he could feel his lifespan shortening with every breath in and out, and in the end, he had been forced to make a decision.
- Fine. No matter how filthy it is… inner power is still inner power. First I survive.
For the sake of survival, he had been forced to use demonic arts.
Of course, he didn’t know the name or principles of the demonic art Cheon Sohyeon had practiced, but that hadn’t left him feeling helpless.
The foundation of any inner art was togo nasin—expelling the old and taking in the new—and that principle did not change simply because the method was demonic.
And then, almost immediately after making that decision, he discovered the second flaw.
- Damn it!! What the hell did I do to deserve this, seriously…
Only one side of the dantian was filled with demonic energy.
The other side was completely untouchable, as if it had been declared a forbidden zone where no energy could spread.
In other words, he had a body that could only make use of half a dantian.
“Hoo. I still can’t get used to it.”
His internal injuries had improved a great deal thanks to regulating his breathing and circulating his energy, but he had now fully grasped the clear limit imposed by that half-formed dantian.
Just as he was beginning to feel stifled beyond belief, a strange voice came from outside the door.
“May I come in?”
“Who are you?”
Dr-r-rk!
He had not even told anyone to enter, but the door swung open at once and a stranger appeared.
So this was the demonic cult?
Frowning, he glared at the man. He had the impression of a blade sharpened to a cold, blue edge. An indistinct but unmistakable pressure flowed from him, strong enough for even the current him to feel it.
“I have been ordered to escort you to the Cult Leader’s Palace.”
And with that frostlike voice, he found himself at a loss for words.
...The Cult Leader’s Palace?
He had thought that as the demonic cult’s third son, he would eventually get the chance to meet the man, but the uninvited guest’s abrupt manner of speech rubbed him the wrong way.
“Ha! You chop off all the front and back of it and just say you’re escorting me, and I’m supposed to—”
“Lord Bright Light Envoy!”
Yeon Hong, who had been standing behind the guest’s shoulder, cried out in alarm.
“Forgive my impudence, but Third Young Master has only just regained his vitality. He still needs more time to stabilize—”
The sharp gaze of the sturdy man swept toward Yeon Hong.
“It is the Cult Leader’s order.”
His voice was firm, leaving no room for objection.
It was the kind of look that could crush the spirit of a weak-minded person in an instant and make their legs go weak.
Even while bearing that look, Yeon Hong darted him a quick glance.
It was as though she were saying, Young Master, you remember this man, don’t you? You know who he is. No, you have to know. The message jolted him fully awake.
...Bright Light Envoy?
He didn’t know the man personally, but he had heard of the two Bright Light Envoys that existed in the demonic cult.
Absolute experts who had risen all the way to the Cult Leader’s closest circle in a world that worshiped strength above all else.
Given how highly ranked he was within the cult, he might well have noticed at a glance that something about this person had changed.
Amitabha.
Those who followed the Buddha’s teachings ought to be free of rigid pettiness.
He burst out laughing and got to his feet.
“Then I’m the one who’ll be going along all bright and cheerful. Ha-ha, the Cult Leader’s Palace, is it? What a meaningful day this’ll be.”
Yeon Hong smoothly stepped in at the right moment.
“Congratulations, Young Master.”
“Yes, yes.”
He met the Bright Light Envoy’s gaze.
“I’ve been rude, sitting here and receiving a guest like this. I’m not usually that sort of person, but illness has apparently made me a bit rotten around the edges. If I seem a little off today, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“It is nothing.”
The man seemed to take it lightly, and he quietly let out a breath of relief.
“Then we can leave right away?”
“A carriage has been waiting outside.”
“I was feeling stifled anyway. That works out nicely. Let’s go.”
The carriage, even its wheels painted black, moved swiftly. Inside it, the Bright Light Envoy was sharpening his senses and gathering his inner power.
Hooooo—
Heavy demonic energy spread through the mountains, rivers, trees, and grass, carrying a vividness more tangible than anything one could touch by hand.
Right now, he was doing everything in his power to complete the Cult Leader’s order without a single mistake.
“So this is what it feels like to get out and about? I’ve only left my room, and it feels like my chest has opened right up.”
The strange thing was that he had closed his eyes, blocking off his sight.
For anyone who knew the Bright Light Envoy’s thoroughly meticulous nature, it was an almost unbelievable act of eccentricity.
“This carriage seems awfully fast. For it to move this quickly without shaking at all, the driver must be quite skilled at handling the reins. Ha-ha!”
No matter how finely one spread one’s spiritual sense, giving up one’s vision inevitably introduced variables.
The Bright Light Envoy knew that himself, but he saw no other choice.
Because there was an unmanageable variable right in front of him.
“Ha-ha, am I the only one who thinks so?”
Why on earth was he doing this?
The Third Young Master had been spouting nonsense ever since they got into the carriage.
This won’t do.
The moment he focused his inner power into the bone just outside his ear canal—
“Hm? There are martial arts that can block sound too? You’ve learned one of those?”
the Bright Light Envoy’s eyelid twitched, and Cheon Sohyeon’s lips curled upward.
“So you finally opened your eyes.”
“...How did you know?”
Cheon Sohyeon pointed beneath his own ear.
“I could tell from the movement of your moonlit blood point.”
The Bright Light Envoy stared at Cheon Sohyeon. Surprise lay plain in the depths of his gaze.
He had reacted as though it were no big deal, but that was because it was an exceedingly difficult thing to do.
Given the envoy’s level of inner power control, this would have been impossible for anyone without truly exceptional sensitivity to the briefest of moments.
In the envoy’s gaze, a faint trace of curiosity bloomed.
He’s still the same, then.
Among the children of the Heavenly Demon’s family, the Third Young Master had been a gifted figure whose martial talent stood out clearly above the rest.
Even after losing consciousness for so many years and suffering qi deviation, that brilliance of mind seemed to remain intact.
“What exactly have you been so curious about since a moment ago?”
Cheon Sohyeon nodded.
The Bright Light Envoy had been concentrating solely on getting him safely to the Cult Leader’s Palace.
That also meant he hadn’t noticed at all that something had changed about him, which was why he had been endlessly chatting away.
“Why am I being taken to the Cult Leader’s Palace? Is it because I woke up after being laid up in bed?”
“The Cult Leader wished to see you.”
His tone suggested that was reason enough.
At the unexpected answer, the corner of Cheon Sohyeon’s mouth twitched.
“Hmm, he wished to see me…”
This was a little unexpected.
He had learned many things about the demonic cult, but he still couldn’t clearly tell what sort of relationship Cheon Sohyeon had with the Cult Leader.
Even if he was his son, they apparently met very rarely, and even if they did see each other, there was no reason anyone would gossip about what they had talked about.
It sounded almost like neglect.
At his uncertain expression, the Bright Light Envoy asked, “Are you not pleased?”
“How could I not be? Of course I’m pleased, but… it just caught me off guard. It’s been a long time since I last saw him, so I wasn’t sure if it was all right for me to go looking like this.”
“To the Cult Leader, only the fact that you have awakened matters. You need not concern yourself with anything else.”
Before the heavens, the height or lowliness of all things amounted to nothing, so the Third Young Master’s appearance was not a problem to begin with.
Even at his best, he would still be lacking.
For an instant, Cheon Sohyeon’s eyes wavered.
“Ah, is that so… Ha-ha, of course it would be.”
Clack.
With the carriage’s jolt, the Bright Light Envoy rose to his feet.
“We’ll be arriving shortly. I’ll take my leave now.”
“Go on, then.”
The carriage halted before the Cult Leader’s Palace.
Below the dozens of pitch-black steps, a man in a red robe had one knee bent as he knelt.
“Cult Leader, the Third Young Master has arrived.”
Woooooong!
The Cult Leader’s fingers gracefully swept through the air.
Uncommon fine liquor floated up in midair to fill the jade cup, and after he emptied the cup, the Cult Leader’s gaze sank even deeper.
Qi deviation.
The third son possessed undeniable qualifications, fitting for one who could reach the apex of the martial world. At one time, the Cult Leader had even held rare expectations for his talent, but those expectations had, as always, scattered into nothingness.
For only trivial misfortunes kept repeating, never once stirring any real feeling in him.
That was why the Cult Leader had already decided further meetings would be meaningless.
If the third son, having clawed his way back from the brink, showed no change worth noting, then today would be the last.
Kugo-go-go-goong.
The thick doors of the Cult Leader’s Palace opened, and moonlight slipping through the crack pushed back the darkness of the grand hall.
Then Cheon Sohyeon’s shadow stretched long across the red carpet.
Step, step.
As the torches swayed on the wind, they lit portions of him here and there.
Had Parnassus or Song Ok, said to be so remarkably handsome they were recorded in the histories, looked like this?
Under his long, delicate eyelashes, his pupils glittered as though stars had been set inside them, and even after lying in bed for so long, a fresh vitality still seemed to shimmer over his smooth skin.
Though the aftermath of qi deviation showed faintly in a slight unevenness in the spacing of his steps, Cheon Sohyeon seemed far more interested in looking around than in anything else, as though he were visiting some fascinating place.
Before long, he came to a stop.
And then, a flicker of unusual color passed through the Cult Leader’s eyes.
The third son was looking straight at him.
It was very different from the way he had once seemed so desperate to hide the killing intent seeping out of him.
Strangely enough, there was only one emotion filling those shining eyes. Not the despair or frustration one would naturally expect, but…
Confidence?
It was an emotion one could hardly display in such a precarious state.
“I have come.”
Cheon Sohyeon’s spirited voice rang out through the Cult Leader’s Palace at once.
“Yes, Father! I’m here!”