The Heavenly Demon’s Interest
At present, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was so closed off that the only thing I knew for certain was that the Cult Leader and Cheon Sohyeon were father and son.
But that didn’t mean I could just sit on my hands, did it? I might well have been heading toward my own grave.
So while I was on the way to the Cult Leader’s Palace, I had no choice but to keep piecing together my relationship with the Cult Leader from every scrap of information I could gather.
The first clue came through Yeon Hong, who helped me understand what it meant that the Cult Leader had sent a carriage and Gwangmyeong Jwasa.
“Have a safe trip, Young Master!”
She’d seen me off with a smile right up until I boarded the carriage, so it had to be a positive sign.
Of course, that alone wasn’t enough to draw a conclusion, so I pressed Gwangmyeong Jwasa relentlessly with questions, and to my surprise I got an answer.
“From the Cult Leader’s point of view, only the fact that you’ve awakened matters. You needn’t concern yourself with anything else.”
I was honestly so taken aback it felt like I’d been struck in the back of the head.
So it was enough that his child had simply regained consciousness?
That might be how a parent feels when their child has been ill, but this was the Heavenly Demon, the very apex of the cult’s fanatics.
I couldn’t take it at face value, so I kept turning it over and over in my head with suspicion piled upon suspicion, until eventually…
I arrived at the thought that even demonic men might cherish blood ties in their own way.
Perhaps because I had long since given up narrow-mindedness, that suspicion quickly hardened into conviction, and I decided the Cult Leader and Cheon Sohyeon must have a close relationship.
It still bothered me that I had to call a demonic man “father,” but there was nothing to be done. Anything was better than dying, wasn’t it?
But why isn’t he answering?
I needed some kind of reaction from him before I could even decide how to respond, yet the Cult Leader’s Palace was weighed down by nothing but heavy silence.
Are the bastards in the Demonic Cult just naturally not very talkative?
As I rolled my eyes and considered every possible explanation, I even finished imagining the moment I’d be exposed as an imposter and turned into a living sacrifice.
Then—
Shoooo—
A malignant current of demonic energy spread through the air from my left.
When I turned my head, I saw a man in a red robe glaring at me.
What’s with that demon spawn?
His eyes looked fierce enough to suggest he’d gone half-mad.
We kept silently locking eyes when the Cult Leader’s voice rang out.
“You look tolerably well.”
I drew up the corners of my mouth and looked up at the Cult Leader. As I’d expected, it seemed I hadn’t been wrong to call him father.
“Yes, you saw me correctly. Considering I’d been lying down for quite a while, I’m in fairly good shape. As the old saying goes, if there’s a noble father, there’s no mongrel son—this is all thanks to inheriting such a sturdy body, wouldn’t you say?”
Still no response worth calling one, but I wasn’t rattled.
Were parents struggling to talk with their children really so rare?
“Have you been well these past days? Since I woke up, I’ve been rather busy. I was pestered by physicians, fed on medicinal gruel, and recently I even finished circulating my qi to manage my internal injuries….”
The Cult Leader cut me off in a voice that had sunk lower than before.
“You were able to do that?”
“Pardon? Ah, yes. I was.”
I flinched.
For a split second, my body froze.
“…!”
Black energy rippled in the Cult Leader’s pupils.
His gaze tightened around my entire body as if it would permit not even the slightest movement. I could feel his eyes sweeping over every blood vessel in my body.
…He can tell that much?
Even with a direct pulse reading, this would have been difficult to discern, yet the Cult Leader was doing it from dozens of steps away, using only his eyes.
“Sometimes,”
his voice, heavy with profound inner force, echoed through the great hall,
“things happen that even a mountain of knowledge cannot explain. This is one such time. Tell me—have you fully awakened the Muryeong Shingong?”
It sounded important, but it was the first time I’d ever heard of this martial art, so nothing suitable came to mind.
“By ‘fully awakened,’ do you mean… have I mastered it?”
“Yes.”
Had Cheon Sohyeon perfected the Muryeong Shingong?
If he meant had I reached the end of martial attainment, the answer was simple.
Mastered it, my ass. What was there to pin that kind of nonsense on this body for?
“I don’t know why you’d think that, but no, I haven’t. Naturally, I won’t be accomplishing it anytime soon either.”
Swooosh—
All at once, the hair on my body stood on end, and my breathing began to grow difficult.
…!
Before long, the air around me felt like it had turned into countless hidden blades, each one aimed at my throat.
“You still haven’t abandoned your pessimism.”
His tone was no longer as detached as before.
There was a trace of anger in it, and instinct told me that depending on this answer, the Cult Leader’s attitude could change drastically.
Gulp.
Was he seriously capable of putting on this much pressure just by changing his mood?
So this is how strong he is…
At the same time, gooseflesh raced from the nape of my neck all the way to my toes.
I was certain then that the Cult Leader’s martial prowess far exceeded the world’s expectations by a terrifying margin.
The tension that crashed down on me made my body stiff, but the discipline I had built up over time was no small thing either.
“All that’s left for this body is to get better. Pessimism doesn’t suit the situation. It’s just… well, in my opinion, the very idea of ‘mastery’ is meaningless.”
“Continue.”
“No matter how simple a martial art may be, isn’t there always a difference between what you achieve today and what you achieve tomorrow? Whether you grow lazy and settle, or whether you keep testing yourself with real spirit, the result will be different either way.”
“…”
“If that’s so, then even if one were to spend a lifetime meditating in front of a wall, it would still be hard to reach a realm one could truly call mastery.”
“Is that your argument?”
I nodded.
“Yes. I think many people become drunk on the achievement itself and forget that they are still within the process. When I see them settle for that without understanding it, the feeling is truly wretched. All that gleaming hair on the back of their heads, and I just want to—”
I cleared my throat and looked up at the Cult Leader.
“Ahem. In any case, it’s not something I’ll ever reach, nor something I’ll ever have occasion to claim I’ve reached.”
That was the truth, too. I wasn’t arrogant enough to claim I had mastered even the Shaolin beginner manual.
The Cult Leader rested his chin on his hand and answered with indifference.
“Nothing more than pretty words.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it is reasoning that will gradually lose its shine. If you were to reach a realm with no equal beneath heaven, would you still cling to the same logic?”
“Whether there’s anyone to match me or not doesn’t matter. As I said before, the one I must contend with is always myself.”
That was the very reason I had chosen to keep training in a cave and nowhere else.
“Can you truly claim that leads upward? A person who walks the demonic path ought to pursue the principle that the strong are honored.”
Strong are honored. Put simply, it meant the strong get everything.
At first glance it seemed similar to survival of the fittest, but there was a major difference. It wasn’t about taking something from the weak; it was about honing one’s own martial way in order to crush the strong.
That, too, was at odds with Buddhist teaching. The Buddha had said to focus on oneself rather than keeping others in sight.
That didn’t change my answer.
“Competing with myself and honoring the strong aren’t so different, are they?”
“…”
The Cult Leader fell silent as though mulling over my words.
After a moment, he lowered the hand that had been supporting his chin and said quietly,
“You have indeed changed. I shall grant you Muryeong Heaven’s Blessing. Come up.”
The man in the red robe hurriedly spoke up.
“C-Cult Leader!”
His eyes shook in disbelief.
Sounds like he wants me to go up to the raised seat…
I weighed the situation and chose my words carefully.
“That won’t be necessary.”
I declined.
From the qi swirling around the Cult Leader alone, it was obvious how formidable it was; in my current condition, if I tried climbing those steps, I’d probably collapse from exhaustion or have my legs give out halfway up.
And if I happened to crack my skull, I might never get back up at all.
Why make a funeral out of nothing? What’s he trying to send me to my grave for… hm?
Then the Cult Leader’s expression—an expression that looked as though it had maintained perfect stillness for an entire lifetime—twitched ever so slightly.
Was it because his son had refused the drink he offered?
I cleared my throat and pressed on.
“Once I’ve nourished this battered body, I’ll send word separately. Then we can drink properly. I’ll treat you to a bottle of the liquor I like best.”
The Cult Leader looked at me for a long moment before answering.
“You are amusing. You may go back.”
“Already?”
“Withdraw.”
The dismissal came earlier than I’d expected, which caught me off guard, but in truth my legs were already shaking so badly I could barely stand.
Honestly, I’d been desperate to end the conversation for a while now.
“Haha, that is a pity, but there’s no helping it. Today isn’t the only day, after all, and I suppose it would be better to meet you in better condition. Then I’ll take my leave, Father!”
After giving a spirited farewell, I turned around in a hurry.
To avoid making a fool of myself, I took my steps carefully to the very end.
Even if I’m a demon, this has to be the right thing to do.
Even in this miserable situation, having fallen into the demon’s den, I was doing my best. Hadn’t a Buddhist, no matter the hardship, accepted suffering with humility? How could I be shaken by something like this?
Indeed, quite so.
Nodding to myself in satisfaction, I left the Cult Leader’s Palace, hoping all the while that this would be the last time I ever saw him.
* * *
The man in the red robe, Gwangmyeong Jwasa, frowned faintly.
Since rising to the position of Jwasa, he had never encountered anything quite so absurd.
Has the Third Young Master lost his wits completely?
Why had he failed to show proper respect, and what was that manner of speaking supposed to be?
No matter that he was the Cult Leader’s own son; such conduct was intolerable.
He wanted at once to stop the rude behavior, but he forced himself to endure, certain that the Cult Leader had his reasons for watching in silence.
“How was he?”
“I couldn’t make him out.”
For an instant, Gwangmyeong Jwasa’s expression stiffened.
Though the Cult Leader’s tone had remained steady from beginning to end, he had served long enough to catch that subtle shift.
The Cult Leader… is taking an interest in him.
The Third Young Master had stirred the interest of the Cult Leader, who stood at the very threshold of godhood. Naturally, it could not simply be because he was his awakened son.
“What exactly made you feel that way?”
The Cult Leader emptied his wine cup with leisurely grace before continuing.
“The Heavenly Killing Star has vanished.”
“…!”
Heavenly Killing Star. The star that signified a baleful fate.
It was the destiny with which the Third Young Master had been born—the fate of bathing the world in blood and bringing inevitable ruin.
Since it concerned the heir’s personal condition, it was not something anyone outside the inner leadership of the cult would know.
“Then… you mean he truly did enter the Muryeong Shingong and awaken it?”
That was said to be the only way to defy such a murderous fate.
“The Muryeong Shingong is called the ultimate expression of boundless adaptability. It will take on myriad forms according to the inheritor’s nature and desires. If he has reached its higher levels, resisting a baleful star would be no great strain.”
The Cult Leader spoke calmly.
“Still, his fundamental attainment is lacking.”
Gwangmyeong Jwasa, head bowed, gave a slight twitch at the brow. Even to his eyes, the Third Young Master’s achievement seemed insufficient.
And yet the Heavenly Killing Star had disappeared. If the Cult Leader had said it, then it was unquestionably true.
“Then… do you think he gained some kind of insight comparable to life and death at the boundary between them?”
“There would be no other explanation.”
“…!”
The assessment of the Third Young Master was that he was born with the greatest martial talent in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
He had been born with the Cheongol Jiche, a heavenly bone body, along with that disastrous star of fate the heavens themselves seemed to toy with. The Third Young Master possessed a constitution that allowed him to refine any supreme art in the world to its absolute limit.
If the Heavenly Killing Star has vanished, then in the end only that talent remains…
As Gwangmyeong Jwasa’s eyes widened—
“Prepare the Mahwandan.”
—the torches in the Cult Leader’s Palace flickered dangerously in the flow of his inner force.
Mahwandan.
The divine pill of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, comparable to the Great Rejuvenation Pill of Shaolin or the Zisu Pill of Mount Hua.
The difference was that, true to the name “demon,” the Mahwandan carried the risk of transforming into a fatal poison.
For it contained such vast spiritual energy that if it was not properly refined, the energy would run wild and kill the user on the spot.
So that was my mistake.
Gwangmyeong Jwasa’s body trembled. The Cult Leader had not merely taken interest in the Third Young Master.
At the moment, the Mahwandan’s excessive spiritual force would surely act as poison to him. So even if it took time, the toxins were to be removed before it was handed over.
This was undoubtedly…
a sign of expectation.