Life in the Demonic Cult Was Better Than I Thought
For generations, the demonic forces of the Murim world could never set foot on the lands of the Central Plains. The first reason was that their methods were so cruel that even the scum of the underworld, the Heukdo, would recoil in horror. The second was that while the martial arts they practiced were formidable, they carried terrifying side effects that not only led to the practitioner's own ruin but also caused great harm to everyone around them.
Of course, not all demonic sects were as unreasonable as described above. Though it was hard to call them mainstream, one particular demonic faction—the strongest in terms of raw power—often performed good deeds that would have made them fit to be called part of the Baekdo, the Righteous Faction.
Then why, you ask, were all demonic sects driven out of the Central Plains? That brings us to the final reason, which is quite simple: those who walk the Mado, the Demonic Path, are, in the end, beings who belong to the demons.
What does that mean? To explain it a bit further... the Demonic Path is essentially the act of treating the moral lines that humans ought to respect like a jump rope, skipping over them with total indifference whenever it suits one's own goals. A philosophy that disregards all means and methods. Even that one demonic faction that performed good deeds was no exception.
At first, they claimed they would save the impoverished and create a world where everyone was happy. As time passed, they suddenly raided government offices, decapitated corrupt officials who were tormenting the people, and paraded their heads on poles. A little more time passed, and they openly plotted to overthrow the state, claiming that the entire sky was a lie and that the Emperor, who called himself the Son of Heaven, was the cause of it all.
Do you understand? The Demonic Path was a term for madmen who were so extremely skewed that no one knew when or where they might lash out. That was the reason the Demonic Path was not welcomed in the Central Plains.
And today, I am a common lay-disciple of the Sun Moon Demonic Cult, a coalition of these very demonic forces—a group centered around those same madmen who plotted to overthrow the nation.
As always, a girl was doing laundry at the stream. She struck the laundry bat held in one hand against the clothes, lost in thought, while staring at her own reflection in the water as she usually did.
'It feels awkward no matter how many times I see it.'
The girl reflected in the stream was just "Central Plains Girl #1," a face you could see anywhere. Her skin was tanned, and her face was covered in blemishes. These were all traces of hard labor; everyone was like this, save for the high-ranking individuals. Yet, the reason my own face felt so awkward was simple: I still felt as if the sturdy, healthy form of a young man from modern society was reflected behind the image of this girl.
'Sigh... how did I end up in this state?'
The girl's name was Seo-ah. Just Seo-ah. She had no surname. To be precise, she had one, but it would be more accurate to say she had discarded it. It wasn't because of some grand, tragic backstory. Her parents had taken money and sold her to the Sun Moon Demonic Cult, known to the world as the Demonic Cult. You could call it a minor act of rebellion against that.
However, she didn't resent her parents.
'Well... the famine was just that severe.'
It must have been unavoidable. I fully understood my parents' feelings. I wasn't some enlightened Buddhist monk; this was a kind of compromise and acceptance. If only I had been sold, it might have been different, but in our village, countless parents other than my own had sold their children because they couldn't afford to feed them.
'I suppose these things are common in this world.'
That was the extent of Seo-ah's impressions. Furthermore, the fact that life in the Demonic Cult was better than expected must have played a part in this generous sentiment. Three meals were served punctually every day, you could quit working once you had enough seniority, and there were even holidays of sorts. Although I had been sold, it felt closer to being a servant in the Joseon Dynasty than a slave. In any case, the Demonic Cult was quite a kind place for low-level lay-disciples like me who didn't practice martial arts.
Even though the Sun Moon Demonic Cult existed today as a coalition of demonic forces, it was possible because its roots were in people who were obsessed with "good."
As Seo-ah was lost in these thoughts, Shin So-so, a fellow maid who was doing laundry beside her, spoke up.
"Hey. What are you thinking about so intensely?"
"Huh? Oh... I was just wondering when this laundry would end."
"The seniors are too much. What are they thinking, dumping the work that five people should be doing onto the two of us? Sigh..."
So-so grumbled and let out a sigh. As she said, this was originally work that at least five people should have been doing. But the seniors who had arrived before us dumped all this menial labor onto us to get rid of their own chores.
Well... what could we do? We were just fresh recruits with no strength and no backing, so we had to follow orders without complaint. However, So-so seemed very aggrieved and kept chattering away.
"Should I try saying something to the Head Maid?"
"Go ahead and try. The Head Maid will call the seniors together and ask, 'Did you really do that?' The seniors will say, 'No, we didn't.' The Head Maid will say, 'Oh, okay. Let's do better.' Then what happens to us?"
"I guess so...? Still, if the two of us cling to the Head Maid's legs and beg, wouldn't something change?"
Seo-ah just gave a wry smile and said nothing. It was a sign of disagreement. So-so must have just been throwing the idea out there, as she sighed deeply, tossed her laundry bat aside, and lay down on the ground.
"Ah! I'm definitely going to get revenge on the seniors in a few days!"
"How?"
"We might get to serve the 'precious ones' for a little while soon. At that time..."
"Precious guests?"
"Didn't you hear? There's a rumor that they're going to draft a few maids to prepare for the graduation ceremony at the Gyomaguan..."
The status within the Cult is largely divided into two: the Jingyodo, who have learned martial arts, and the lay-disciples who cannot and do menial labor like farming. The Gyomaguan was the Cult's only educational institution that gathered talented young disciples from among the Jingyodo to train them into martial artists.
At the mention of Gyomaguan, a few faces flashed through Seo-ah's mind.
'I wonder if they're doing well.'
They were the three children who had followed me particularly well in the village. The children who had been sold here with me during the terrible famine. When we were first sold here, they checked our basic bone structure to see if we had the aptitude to learn martial arts; unlike me, who became a maid because I lacked talent, those children were assigned to the Gyomaguan.
When I remained silent, So-so thought I was interested in her story and excitedly continued.
"Aren't you curious, too? How I'll get revenge on the seniors."
Ah, right. We were talking about revenge. Could it be that So-so also knew someone at the Gyomaguan, just like me?
"Um... well, yeah."
"It's this...! I'm going to seduce a young master from the Gyomaguan!"
"What?"
"If I catch a young master's eye, my status will rise in an instant, and those seniors who bullied us will be trembling at a single word from me!"
Seo-ah couldn't say a word, her mouth hanging open. It was a response she truly hadn't expected. For me, still struggling with the ego of a man for 16 years, it was a response I couldn't accept or even contemplate. A man seducing a man to rise in status...? It was impossible.
So-so, seeing my reaction, thought I was stunned by her brilliant scheme and continued, brimming with confidence.
"How about it? It's a really great plan, right? So, you come with me, too. The chances of success are higher with two than one!"
"Uh... um... sure."
Seo-ah nodded with an awkward expression. It wasn't because I really wanted to seduce a man according to So-so's scheme, but because I wanted to meet old acquaintances. I didn't have high expectations, but if I could show off even a slight connection with those Jingyodo—especially those who would graduate from the Gyomaguan and take up administrative positions in the Cult—it was certain that my future life would be much more comfortable.
'They wouldn't have forgotten me, would they?'
Of course, it wasn't just for such materialistic reasons. I was also curious about how the kids were doing. 'Hmm... No-ya will be lonely.' Seo-ah thought of her sparring partner, who would be swinging his sword in solitude. If I went to the Gyomaguan, it would probably be hard to see him for a while.
As we returned to our quarters, just as the rumor So-so had heard suggested, they were recruiting volunteers to go to the Gyomaguan. The only difference from what I'd heard was that they were accepting a large number of dozens of volunteers, not just a few. For my part, it was a fortunate turn of events. Since I had been late returning to the dormitory due to the seniors dumping their work on me, the fact that they were picking so many meant I didn't have to worry about not being selected.
So-so and I put in our applications for the Gyomaguan, and with that, the day's routine ended.
'Did he leave early because he was waiting for me today?'
Seo-ah thought about just lying down in bed, but thinking that No-ya might still be waiting, she got up and headed to the mountain behind the quarters alone.
As I headed to a quiet clearing on the mountain as always, I saw an elderly man with white hair silently swinging his sword. The old man's sword was not flashy; it was very simple, repeating only two movements. He would slash horizontally with all his might. Then he would slash vertically with all his might. It was a repetition of only those two movements.
Every single day. It had been a year since I first saw No-ya's simple swordsmanship, which had become a part of my daily life. Someone might find it laughable if they heard that I, who hadn't learned the sword, thought this way, but No-ya's sword felt as if it were being blocked by someone invisible. It felt as if I could even see what stance the invisible opponent was taking.
It was a truly ridiculous story. A person who was a layman to the sword discussing the sword. If the bellicose martial artists of the Demonic Cult heard this, they would surely have been furious.
I headed toward the log that was laid out for sitting, lost in such idle thoughts. Hearing my footsteps as I approached the log, No-ya spoke.
"You're late."
The sword still showed no signs of leaving No-ya's hand, and his gaze remained fixed on the blade. I had once thought it might be rude to talk to someone so engrossed in swinging their sword, but...
— It's only two movements. It's fine.
Since he said it was fine, it had been a long time since I cared. Seo-ah began to unpack her bundle of stories, as she did every day.
"It's not like I wanted to be late. Those bitches Deok-sam and Jeom-rye dumped their chores on me..."