Chapter 229
Chapter 229
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 229
Chapter Title: Mountain of the Cultivator (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
...Come to think of it.
I'd never heard any stories about the Heavenly Demon dying.
He was the former master of the Holy Grail, and even the Pandarian King had mistaken Park Chan-woo for his "heir."
But there were no tales about the Heavenly Demon himself—his final moments or demise.
The demons had erased all records of the "Heavenly Demon," but that was the extent of it.
As the saying goes, this emaciated old man before me could very well be the real Heavenly Demon.
"He's not the Heavenly Demon."
Chronos spoke with absolute certainty.
A shadow spirit and reaper who had been active even during the Great War—an ancient being from eons past.
Having lived through countless ages, it wasn't strange for him to know the name "Heavenly Demon."
"Then? One of his heirs?"
"The Heavenly Demon took no disciples. He's likely just a later supreme being who inherited the name. As for why he's trapped in this hell... I have no idea."
Not related by blood or discipleship—just someone who had inherited the qualifications and the name.
Yet even so, why was this pinnacle of the arhats, this supreme one, wasting away imprisoned in an endless labyrinth? It was a mystery.
"This place is far too grim to be called the 'Land of the Golden Bighorn.' Why did the Will of Magic Power lead you here?"
Chronos continued to ponder.
Park Chan-woo was doing the same.
A place devoid of dreams or hope.
Wasn't it too far removed from the ideal paradise, the "Golden Bighorn"?
Without the Radiant Sage's Stone, he would have wandered lost forever.
And perhaps he still was, even now.
...Did the Will of Magic Power want to trap and kill him?
He shook his head.
'The Will of Magic Power acknowledged me.'
When he cleared the 20th floor of God's Tower.
He recalled the message that had appeared then.
On the 20th floor of God's Tower, Park Chan-woo had embraced Arcana's soul and transcended God's Intent.
In doing so, the Will of Magic Power had recognized the stature of his existence and the nobility of his soul.
Therefore...
'There is God's Intent here. The Will hopes I'll surpass it once more.'
Perhaps it had guided him here believing that Park Chan-woo would find "another path."
God's Tower.
There, only the remnants of the failed lingered.
Not just God's Tower—most of those he had encountered until now had "failed."
And Park Chan-woo was no different.
But "failure" was merely the outcome.
There had been beauty in the process.
If that process was noble and exalted, could it truly be dismissed as mere failure?
There was God's Intent here.
A story waiting to be unveiled.
He didn't know what it was yet.
'I need to dig it up.'
Uncover it. Claim it.
Then he could reach the true "Golden Bighorn"!
"Are you coming to your senses?"
He asked the old man.
There was still no response.
A living corpse that had lost all reason.
One thing was clear: he had endured in this state for an incredibly long time.
Seeming to survive on the bare minimum of energy.
Park Chan-woo hoisted the old man onto his back.
"He's as good as dead already. From the looks of his remaining magic power, he won't last long even if you take him."
"The fact that he's survived this long means he hasn't given up hope yet."
Not a day or two.
Decades, centuries, at least.
Possibly even longer.
And everyone else trapped here had been confined around the same time.
When all had despaired and ended their own lives, only this old man had clung to existence.
A transcendent will.
And refusing to abandon life meant he hadn't forsaken hope.
How could he abandon someone enduring on willpower alone, still harboring hope?
Park Chan-woo moved on to the next area with the old man on his back.
No end in sight.
This cave had surpassed even the point of being relentless.
Before he knew it, the eleventh skull lay ahead.
As if by prior agreement, words scrawled in blood adorned the cave wall.
But this one was slightly different from the previous skulls.
The posture of the skeleton itself was telling.
Sitting upright like an ascetic monk, hands clasped together.
Unlike the others, it seemed to have accepted death in quiet serenity.
Perhaps that's why.
The writing on the wall was comparatively sane.
—Heavenly Demon, look upon your humble servants.
—I sought power, but I do not believe that to be sin.
—When the Heavenly Dao reaches its peak, it reverses. Thus, I still believe my pursuit of power made me purer.
—Revealing one's desires is the beauty of life, its purpose—the law of all things and the universe.
—If one hides and flees from what is natural, can that truly be called enlightenment of the profound mysteries?
Park Chan-woo stroked his chin as he read.
"A precept-breaking monk?"
No matter how he looked at it, this was a rogue monk.
A bit distant from orthodox Daoist teachings.
He viewed the pursuit of power and open desires as natural.
There was even a sense that he'd twisted the teachings to fit his own conclusions.
Just reading it had broadened his insight.
This in itself was another form of martial art.
Though it didn't seem like it, this precept-breaking monk's enlightenment was embedded in those words.
'Heavenly Demon.'
Moreover, the term "Heavenly Demon" appeared for the first time.
Was there a connection to the old man on his back?
He pulled a book from his inventory.
The final, incomplete page of the tome labeled "Divine Art."
Scribble. Scribble.
Park Chan-woo copied one of the phrases from the wall onto it.
This wasn't the first time.
As he traversed the cave, he had selected striking phrases from the writings and transcribed them there.
'Heavenly Dao reaches extreme then reverses.'
The skulls had each summarized their enlightenment in a single phrase.
All of them.
No matter how deranged, they always left behind one enigmatic word.
As if their entire realization was contained within it.
This one was no different.
Honestly, he still had no clue what it meant.
But there had to be a reason they desperately left these words behind.
"Interesting."
"...Interesting?"
Chronos clicked his tongue.
He had no idea how much time had passed walking already.
Yet the longer it went on, the more Park Chan-woo treated this cave with growing fascination.
"It's like exploring hidden magic and piecing it together to completion."
As expected.
He had noticed it even when with the transcendent Lir—he was truly mad about magic.
This unchanging attitude was something even he had to respect.
"...They're all close to evil spirits. Absorbing their enlightenments won't do you any good."
Chronos was holding back his words as much as possible.
But each insight left by the skulls was perilously dangerous.
It ran counter to the "truth" of magic that Park Chan-woo pursued.
He could vaguely guess why they were trapped in this space.
As the saying goes, the words of those who took what they shouldn't have.
Not the Heavenly Demon's arts, nor the arhats' techniques—but something perilously close to absurd evil.
Chronos couldn't fathom if studying this would truly benefit Park Chan-woo.
So he broke his silence.
"Don't worry about it."
Park Chan-woo shrugged.
He was well aware of Chronos's concerns.
But regardless, he was already hooked.
All these enlightenments linked together like a single incantation.
Like the formula for manifesting magic.
He was dying to know what it would become once complete.
Thus, Park Chan-woo didn't stop.
Now that he had a goal, he couldn't.
The twelfth skull.
Precisely, eleven skulls and one old man.
In any case, after walking a good while longer, he encountered another skull.
'A mural.'
But this time, it wasn't writing—it was a drawing.
A man and an enormously vast, pure-white whale.
"Charpam?"
The White Whale Charpam.
The dimension encounterer, an outer god burst from the great rift.
It was unmistakably him.
'Then that man must be the real Heavenly Demon.'
Nothing like the old man on his back.
The man in the drawing rode Charpam into the heavens.
"Pro... tector..."
That was when.
The old man spoke for the first time.
"...Are you coming to your senses?"
"Hea... venly... Demon!"
Tremble!
The skeletal old man shook violently.
Thud.
The old man struck Park Chan-woo's shoulder.
As if demanding to be let down.
Cautiously, he set the old man on the ground.
And then—
Tears streamed from the old man's opened eyes as he approached the mural.
He leaned against it, caressing it, then bowed deeply in reverence.
Several minutes passed like that.
"Who are you?"
Life returned to the old man's dead eyes.
His presence and aura had flipped completely.
An intensely piercing gaze.
Just meeting it made his body shiver involuntarily.
Profound.
He couldn't even gauge the depth of his cultivation.
"No one but us should have entered this 'Avici Hell.' Let alone—"
His voice brimmed with dignity.
But it carried wariness as well.
Intense suspicion and hostility mingled together.
The old man continued.
"...You clearly said 'Charpam.' How do you know the guardian's name?"
Hearing Charpam's name and seeing the mural had awakened him.
But Park Chan-woo had never heard Charpam called a "guardian" before.
He pondered briefly before answering.
"I'm Charpam's contractor."
"...Nonsense. The guardian vanished with him. This must be another of their bizarre tricks. I won't fall for it..."
"Charpam."
In that instant.
Sizzle—hiss!
A magic circle etched itself into the ground.
This place, the "Land of the Golden Bighorn," barred pets and summons from entry.
But strictly speaking, "Charpam" wasn't a summon.
He called himself a contractor, but there was no formal contract binding them.
Completed at a transcendent "Dimension" rank alongside Azos, it was a "authority" and "magic" that Park Chan-woo wielded!
Above all, Charpam was a being sealed within the "Demon-Sealing God's Holy Grail."
An outer god who harbored extreme hatred for the Heavenly Demon due to being personally sealed by him!
Soon, the White Whale Charpam materialized before their eyes.