Chapter 231
Chapter 231
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Mountain of the Cultivators (6)
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Chiwoo harbored lingering regrets.
It all felt like his own fault.
Erasing the Heavenly Demon's name, tampering with the divine arts and trapping everyone in an endless hell.
It seemed like a tragedy born from his own shortcomings.
That's why he couldn't die.
No matter how much he wanted to, death eluded him.
Not until it was complete. Not until he achieved it fully.
But those unresolved emotions festered like poison, corrupting his mind and soul.
He spent countless ages in a state like living death.
'If only I had been a little more exceptional.'
He lingered in the darkness.
Endlessly replaying his regrets, blaming himself.
Originally, Chiwoo was an Arhat who had reached the sublime realm.
His prowess stood unmatched even among the Twelve Heavenly Kings.
He was one of the strongest across all Arhats.
Moreover, he was the only one who had severed the left arm of the Godslayer who erased the Heavenly Demon's name.
The problem came afterward.
His dantian was shattered, his inner energy utterly crippled.
Trapped in a cave like a cripple, his body gradually rotted away.
A body that should have died long ago.
Yet the reason he didn't die was simple.
...He was simply too exceptional.
A paradox, but upon losing everything, his realm deepened instead.
Still, he couldn't fully conquer death.
He hadn't emptied himself completely.
Only by becoming utterly void could one refill and begin anew.
Countless attachments held him back.
'Have you finally emptied yourself...?'
Those regrets dissolved in an instant upon meeting Park Chan-woo.
Meeting the Heavenly Demon's successor, passing on their insights, burying the other Heavenly Kings—he shed all lingering attachments cleanly.
No more regrets remained.
At last, he achieved true emptiness.
Stepping into the realm of perfect void, enlightenment surged like a tide, filling the vacant storehouse.
Vital energy returned, fresh flesh sprouted over his body.
His bones hardened further, and every organ, including his muscles, regenerated anew.
He transcended shedding the old shell, reaching the rejuvenation of youth.
Beyond reconstruction, he reverted to his prime.
A man with a striking presence now replaced the elder.
Light beamed from his eyes, thick brows hinting at a hero's spirit.
The aura emanating from him was incomparable to before.
"It seems... my fate hasn't ended yet."
With brighter eyes, Chiwoo slowly dropped to one knee.
The end was a new beginning.
His tale as one of the Twelve Heavenly Kings concluded, another story about to unfold.
"I died as one of the Twelve Heavenly Kings. But my role isn't over."
Chiwoo knew what he had to do.
The one at the center of it all.
The one who wrought miracles in succession, witnessing everyone's final moments.
"I'll personally escort you all the way to the Pantheon. Though I'm the only one left, I'll surely be of help. Please allow me by your side."
To serve him.
A body that should have died anyway.
Without Park Chan-woo, he would have ended his life drowned in regrets.
Wandering hell as a restless spirit, never achieving emptiness.
Wasn't this the Heavenly Demon's decree to follow the one who offered new life and fate, ascending to the Pantheon?
A chance to restore the Heavenly Demon's name in the Pantheon and resolve the other Heavenly Kings' regrets personally!
No need for hesitation.
Park Chan-woo smiled faintly and nodded.
"Understood."
Mountain of the Cultivators, foothills.
The entrance where those who purely honed their skills first arrived.
But not just anyone could visit or climb the mountain.
Only the chosen could come, and among them, only the selected could ascend this land of opportunity.
"How many challengers today?"
"Seven."
"More than usual."
"What's the use? If even one passes, we'll be lucky."
Two men chatted at the entrance.
Today, seven Arhats had come, but whether any could climb was uncertain.
Even gathering promising ones, the pass rate was under 10%.
The trials were that harsh.
In the boring wait, one man yawned.
"No more seem to be coming, so let's head back..."
"...There are more."
In an instant, the other man stared somewhere and spoke.
Sleepiness vanished.
But it was odd.
"Wait. An 'irregular entrant' entered?"
"Seems so. Someone who opened the 'gate' themselves..."
There was only one way to reach the Mountain of the Cultivators.
When descending Arhats sent their disciples.
They permitted entry at set places and times.
Only then did the 'gate' open.
Those were called 'selected entrants.'
But very rarely.
Extremely rarely, 'irregular entrants' appeared at unplanned places and times.
Those who found the mountain's location themselves and opened the gate.
It hadn't happened in recent years.
"...Two of them."
Not one, but two.
The gatekeepers watched the approaching pair warily.
If they were demons or malign entities, they had to be eliminated.
"We've come to take the mountain entry trial."
Chiwoo stepped forward and declared.
The gatekeepers tilted their heads.
'No particular aura.'
'Either no real skill to conceal it, or nothing special.'
One or the other.
Even stranger, irregulars knowing about the entry trial.
Of course.
The gatekeepers shrugged.
Their role was only to bar malign entities from ascending.
No authority to block trial-takers.
But for irregulars, they checked minimum conditions.
"Which 'gate' did you open?"
Chiwoo answered the gatekeeper's question.
"The 'black gate.'"
Gates came in many types.
Usually distinguished by color.
But the gatekeepers blinked again.
"...'Black gate'?"
"Was there such a thing?"
A color they'd never heard of.
For example, selected entrants came through 'yellow.'
If high clans' heirs or disciples were among them, it turned 'white.'
Descending Arhats returned via 'red,' and summit dwellers made gates 'golden.'
Black, though?
Believe irregulars crossed an unheard-of colored gate?
Then a thought struck one gatekeeper, who muttered.
"...Wait. They didn't come from a 'secret realm,' did they?"
"Secret realm? Hidden clans?"
At the mountain's base depths lay places called secret realms.
Legends said ancient clans hid there, rarely emerging since.
But those from secret realms were always irregulars, crossing special-colored gates.
"Now that you understand, step aside."
Chiwoo said.
Of course, all calculated.
Not yet time to reveal Park Chan-woo as Heavenly Demon's heir or himself as Heavenly King.
After properly entering and gaining recognition.
The Heavenly Demon's name was erased, but if the Pantheon's essence remained, opportunity would come!
"Both from a secret realm?"
"I'm just his escort."
"..."
The gatekeepers' faces hardened.
But no way to verify secret realm origins immediately.
Unless other secret realm Arhats checked.
They dwelled mid-mountain or higher.
Not ones to summon lightly.
The two exchanged glances via transmission.
'What now? Report?'
'After they pass the trial.'
'Who's the proctor today?'
'Yi Sabak.'
'Ah, zero passers today then.'
Even secret realm folk wouldn't find the trial easy.
Yi Sabak was infamous as a hellish proctor.
His passers numbered on one hand.
"Heh. Hope you reach mid-mountain at least."
"...Entry permitted."
First, they needed to follow proper procedures to climb.
Causing a ruckus before the Pantheon risked exposure and danger.
Once they proved worthy at the peak, even that monster wouldn't act rashly.
Hence, fake identities.
Irregulars from a secret realm suited perfectly.
Chiwoo claiming escort role fit the same.
"What? Irregular entrants?"
Soon after ascending, a burly man appeared.
His white training robes stained with blood and flesh from testers.
And none descended—meaning all met their end by his hand.
"Whatever. My trial's simple and clear. Just withstand one punch."
"Just endure it? By any means?"
Chiwoo asked, and the proctor nodded.
"Yeah. Bonus points depending on how. To pass the foothills, endure three trials from three proctors, all mid-grade or higher."
"I'll go first."
Chiwoo stepped up.
Proctor Yi Sabak smirked.
"Brave one. Don't worry, I won't go full force. Though no one's endured even that today..."
Yi Sabak loosened his hand.
Chiwoo enveloped himself in energy, bracing.
"Oh ho. Protective aura? Some skill, eh."
Visible aura cloaked his body.
Mark of a true expert.
Yet Yi Sabak remained smug.
"That enough? Looks insufficient."
"It's plenty. Begin."
Chiwoo replied curtly, and Yi Sabak clenched his fist.
And.
Swoosh!
Boom!
In a blink, he lunged, smashing Chiwoo's gut.
A heavy ring echoed as energy vibrated.
Like a droplet rippling a lake, the aura warped slightly.
"Ngh..."
A faint groan, but he endured.
Yi Sabak's eyes gleamed.
"Superior grade. First proper one in ages."
He scored it.
Superior.
The sole passer among today's challengers, and across all his tests, the first superior score.
That good a protective aura.
Chiwoo was equally shocked.
'Not some mere proctor's level.'
Either that, or the mountain's average power had skyrocketed while he was trapped.
Not full power aura, but still took a hit.
If he struggled, could Park Chan-woo endure?
No helping here.
Going first to give hints—that was Chiwoo's limit.
"Next. You challenging? Skip if scared."
"I'll challenge."
Park Chan-woo stepped forward slowly.
'What're you doing?'
Yi Sabak tilted his head.
Expected desperate prep.
But this guy?
'Suicidal?'
No protective aura.
No energy stir.
Just relaxed, standing still.