Chapter 272: I'm the Victim.
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 272: I'm the Victim.
Leaving Ma Paeseon behind, I walked through the forest with Cheon Yeo-hwa.
By now, the martial artists would be scouring the area.
The men in black who had attacked Cheon Yeo-hwa had also gone after the third-generation disciples of various sects, including Mount Hua, Zhongnan Sect, and Shaolin. They'd be searching for any trace with fire in their eyes.
My first priority was to regroup with them.
If I didn't clear up this misunderstanding now, I might end up on their bad side.
Of course, I couldn't tell them the whole truth, so I'd have to embellish the story a bit.
“Hyun-woo.”
“Hm?”
Cheon Yeo-hwa, who was walking behind me, grabbed the hem of my clothes.
Her eyes met mine, and after a moment of hesitation, she slowly began to speak.
“...Elder Yuk tried to kill you. Yet I asked you to spare him. Do you not resent me for that?”
She was clearly tense, but I just let out a dry laugh.
And here I was, wondering what she was going to say.
“Even if you were to stab me in the back, I wouldn't care. So don't worry about such things.”
I stepped closer to her, gently caressed her cheek, and kissed her. It was a warmth I hadn't felt in months. An utterly satisfying feeling washed over me, and I savored the moment completely.
Cheon Yeo-hwa's flushed cheeks looked like a camellia blossom in full bloom.
“Besides, we got something out of it, didn't we?”
I took out a book.
The Hyeolyeom Suramagong (Blood Flame Asura Demonic Art).
It was the title of the martial arts manual I'd taken from Ma Paeseon. I heard it was his unique martial art.
He seemed to carry it on him at all times. Cheon Yeo-hwa had snatched it, calling it the price for his life, and then handed it to me with a smile.
Ma Paeseon, who had lost his manual to an outsider in an instant, looked as if the sky had fallen. But that was none of my business.
I needed a demonic art anyway, so this was perfect.
Of course, I could have learned one of the other demonic arts Cheon Yeo-hwa knew, but the Wollyeongmagong (Moon Spirit Demonic Art) she practiced had a fatal side effect for men—it turned them into eunuchs. And none of the other arts were suitable.
In that situation, the Hyeolyeom Suramagong was the perfect alternative.
Along with the Wollyeongmagong, the Hyeolyeom Suramagong was one of the Ten Great Demonic Arts of the World, a supreme demonic art classified as a divine technique.
There was no need to weigh other options.
Ma Paeseon had reluctantly explained the basics of the Hyeolyeom Suramagong.
He said it had a side effect of making the user more violent as their mastery grew, and if the demonic nature filled them to the bone, they would become a madman craving blood.
'That's nothing.'
This "demonic nature" was ultimately a type of heart demon that corroded the mind.
That was why demonic martial artists, who practiced demonic arts, grew strong quickly but were more vulnerable to Qi deviation than the orthodox martial artists who practiced righteous arts.
However, it was nearly impossible for demonic nature to build up in me, no matter how many demonic arts I learned.
First, my Formless Vajra Art didn't just suppress demonic nature—it shattered it to pieces. On top of that, the mental barrier of a 5th-Circle mage was as sturdy as a missile bunker.
What's more, my mental barrier was exceptionally strong compared to other mages. I didn't know why, but in any case, the side effects of demonic arts were practically nonexistent for me.
After hearing Ma Paeseon's explanation, I memorized the principles of the Hyeolyeom Suramagong on the spot and began circulating my Qi.
About fifteen minutes later, I reached the first stage of the art. I'm at the third stage now.
Ma Paeseon's eyes filled with astonishment as he watched me master the basics of the Hyeolyeom Suramagong in the blink of an eye.
It was a look that said, What the hell is that monster?
'It's probably thanks to my Primordial Body.'
Even I had to admit it was an abnormal speed.
But for an art called one of the Ten Great Demonic Arts, it wasn't that complex. If I had to compare, it was about as difficult as the Crimson Cloud Thunder Art, which I'd recently raised to the sixth stage.
Anyway, after that, I heard various stories from Cheon Yeo-hwa, including some related to Ma Paeseon.
“Those who inherit the Cult Leader's blood are born to face countless assassination attempts.”
“Assassination? I thought the Cult Leader's authority was considered equal to that of a god.”
“That's why they're so obsessed with it. It increases the chances of their own child becoming the next Cult Leader.”
Their own child.
The meaning was clear.
“The maternal families?”
Cheon Yeo-hwa nodded.
“Besides my late mother, I had several other mothers. But only three of them bore children.”
The blood of the Cheon clan is so foreign that women who haven't practiced martial arts cannot handle it and end up miscarrying.
That was why the Cult Leader married the daughters of high-ranking sects.
“The 1st Young Master must have seen my rapid growth as a threat, because he joined hands with the maternal families of the childless wives and attacked me. As if that would magically give them a child. Fools. I had expected that much, but the betrayal of a confidant was painful. In the end, I lost my power base, was poisoned, and had to flee the cult.”
Recalling that day, Cheon Yeo-hwa gave a bitter smile.
I had heard this part of the story before.
“However, in my tattered state, I was too weak to shake off my pursuers. It wouldn't have been strange if I'd been caught at any moment. That was when Elder Yuk stood in their way.”
“...That old man?”
Seeing my disbelieving expression, Cheon Yeo-hwa let out a small laugh.
“I had a wet nurse. She spent a lot of time with me when I was young, in place of my frail mother. We weren't related by blood, but you could say she was like a mother to me. And she was killed by an assassin sent by the 1st Young Master.”
Her face was the same as always, but I could see a faint anger simmering behind her eyes.
It was obvious who that anger was directed at.
“After my wet nurse passed away, Elder Yuk came to visit. He claimed they were just old acquaintances, but his back looked far too sorrowful as he fiddled with her hairpin for their relationship to have been so simple. It might have been because his younger sister, who died at an age younger than I was then, had the same name as my wet nurse. But only Elder Yuk would know the real reason.”
As she recounted the old story, Cheon Yeo-hwa's expression seemed a little brighter.
It was probably because even within those difficult and painful times, there were still memories worth cherishing.
“After that, Elder Yuk would often visit under the ridiculous pretext of looking around the manor. At the time, I couldn't understand why he did it, but as I got older, I began to. He was probably warning the others.”
A young girl who had lost her mother and wet nurse was no different from a cub abandoned among beasts of prey.
The reason such a girl could survive was likely because she had a helper besides her maternal family.
But that was Elder Yuk?
“He was a gruff man who never offered a single word of comfort, but perhaps I subconsciously thought of him as a grandfather. It's true my maternal family helped a lot, but Elder Yuk was the only one who shielded me from the visible storms.”
“...Should I have gone easier on him?”
“Pfft.”
At that, Cheon Yeo-hwa burst into a bright laugh. I found myself captivated by the sight.
She was that charming.
Leaning her head on my shoulder, Cheon Yeo-hwa wiped away a tear with her fingertip.
“To be honest, it was quite satisfying to see that old man flustered. I wasn't happy either when he suddenly showed up talking about arranged marriages and whatnot.”
From my perspective, Elder Yuk also saw Cheon Yeo-hwa as his own granddaughter.
That must be why he rushed all the way out here to Shaanxi to tell her how to survive.
So what happens when the granddaughter he cherishes suddenly appears in the arms of a strange man, saying, 'My body can no longer live without this man'?
Hmph, if I were him, I'd probably have succumbed to a heart demon too.
“By the way, didn't your master help you?”
“My master?”
Cheon Yeo-hwa burst out laughing. But unlike before, it was closer to a scornful sneer.
“That woman is not the type of person to do something like that. She's a hopeless human who holed herself up in a gisaeng house to indulge in drinking and women the moment she passed on her title.”
*
After our short chat, Cheon Yeo-hwa and I returned to the old temple where I had found the Formless Vajra Art.
A fair amount of time had passed, so I didn't remember the exact path, but by following the presence of the martial artists, I was able to arrive quickly.
In front of the main gate, before the neatly laid-out corpses, martial artists from three sects had gathered: Mount Hua, Zhongnan Sect, and Shaolin.
And among them, I saw a familiar face.
“Orabeoni!" [An honorific for an older brother or a close older male.]
It was Yoo Sowol.
Yoo Sowol's eyes met mine, and she immediately ran over to me, clearly delighted to see me.
But when she saw my bloodstained, tattered clothes and the bandages covering my upper body, her face instantly turned pale.
“O-Orabeoni, your body...!”
“Calm down. I'm fine.”
Despite my appearance, I was in peak condition.
In fact, thanks to the enlightenment I'd gained during my fight with Ma Paeseon, I had even grown stronger.
As proof, there was no one gathered here stronger than me.
This made it certain.
I was now stronger than an elder of a great sect.
'The 6th Circle and the Flower Realm are still distant, but it's only a matter of time.'
I suppressed the corners of my mouth, which were twitching into a smile against my will.
The area in front of the old temple was a house of mourning. If I smiled cheerfully in a place like this, I'd be asking to get stabbed.
The ones who had lost their lives to the assassins were the third-generation disciples. Perhaps because of that, the faces of the martial artists from the three sects were all grimly distorted.
'They look ready to jump anyone who steps out of line.'
In truth, I didn't need to show up in such a sorry state. I could have just pulled new clothes from my inventory and healed my wounds with potions and holy water.
But if I appeared perfectly fine, it would be easy to arouse suspicion.
If the third-generation disciple I saved had regained consciousness and testified, then my current role was someone who had just returned from chasing the culprits. If I were completely unharmed, they would surely find it suspicious.
Suppressing my demonic energy as much as possible, I followed Yoo Sowol.
“Amitabha...”
“Primordial Heavenly Venerable, Primordial Heavenly Venerable...”
Before the bodies, a martial artist in a Zhongnan Sect Uniform was reciting a Daoist chant, while a Shaolin warrior monk chanted a Buddhist prayer.
In contrast, the members of the Mount Hua Sect were holding the hands of the deceased, their faces filled with grief, as if vowing revenge.
'Then again, that suits them better than reciting Daoist scriptures.'
For a Daoist sect, the Mount Hua Sect had strong secular tendencies. Was it because the original form of their signature Plum Blossom Sword Art was a vicious killing sword?
Thanks to that, they were allowed to marry.
'It's a good thing Sowol is from the Mount Hua Sect.'
Typically, in Daoist sects, one must destroy their dantian to marry. In severe cases, they even sever their meridians. This is supposedly to prevent the sect's martial arts from being leaked through their children.
As soon as I approached, the Daoist and Buddhist chants stopped.
Then, the eyes of all the martial artists focused on me.
“Ah?! Th-That's him! He's the one who saved my life!”
Among the martial artists stood the third-generation disciple I had saved. It seemed the holy water had done its job, as his complexion looked much better.
He was practically half a corpse the last time I saw him.
No sooner had the disciple finished speaking than the elder-level figures from each sect approached me.
“I've heard a lot about you from Sowol.”
A middle-aged woman, the 7th Elder of the Mount Hua Sect and presumably Yoo Sowol's master.
“...I have many questions for you, if you don't mind.”
The 5th Elder of the Zhongnan Sect, who looked somewhat displeased.
“...”
And finally, Howon-dangju, an elder-level figure from Shaolin, who simply stared at me without a word.
I calmly nodded and prepared to spin my tale.
It was time to talk.