Chapter 2
قال Gemini
Chapter 2
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: A Demon in a Disciple's Body
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How much time had passed since his narrow escape from the clutches of the afterlife?
At some point, the sounds of the living began to grate on his nerves—specifically, the voices belonging to old men who seemed steeped in the long, slow flow of years.
It was strange, for he was certain the grim reapers from the underworld had finally retreated, yet as he forced his eyes open with immense difficulty, he found a group of people huddled together in outfits that annoyed him at first glance.
"Oh! Look, the boy is finally coming to!"
"......"
He blinked repeatedly, and as his blurry vision cleared and the world brightened into focus, one of the figures leaned in to ask if he was feeling a bit better.
The first thing he saw was a vivid Taiji pattern, a symbol he had encountered many times before in his previous life as a conqueror.
The worn-out pattern engraved on their shabby robes triggered a realization that hit him like a physical blow: Wudang... the meddling priests of Wudang!
"Heh heh, it seems the very will of heaven has touched this young soul!" one of them remarked, while another claimed the Lord of Heaven had blessed him.
The aged Taoist priests were grinning at him, their breath reeking with an intensity that made him want to gag. What in the world was going on here?
He had only barely held out against the grim reaper's trickery for a moment, so had that bastard forced him to ascend to immortality because he couldn't drag him away after the Immortal Grass was consumed?
No, that was pure bullshit—but if he wasn't dead, why wouldn't his body move? And more than that, why did every fiber of his being hurt so terribly?
His bones felt as though they had been shattered into dust, and his muscles felt torn to shreds. One of the old men told him to remain still and not to strain himself, but he wasn't trying to move out of effort.
"Tsk tsk, what an admirable child," the priest muttered. "To fall off a treacherous cliff while gathering medicinal herbs for his master... such devotion."
Suddenly, unfamiliar memories began flooding into his mind like a vivid, unstoppable painting, overwhelming his own sense of self.
He saw an orphan abandoned by his parents, a gentle-natured Taoist priest who had offered him warmth, and a boy of only seventeen years.
He saw a priest who had been gravely wounded and crippled by the hands of the very man he used to be: the Lord of Evil Hegemony Heaven.
His head throbbed as if it were being split open by an axe as this massive volume of foreign memories forcibly burrowed into his skull.
"Oh no! His channels are becoming unstable!"
The old priests hurried to place their hands on various energy points across his body, and in an instant, iridescent immortal energy arose from their forms to flow into him.
The intense energy pounded through his meridians and coursed through his eight extraordinary vessels, ravaging his body in a new kind of agony.
He wanted to scream at these mad bastards for injecting pure immortal energy into the body of Hyeokryeon Mugang, for he was certain they were trying to finish the job the reapers had started!
The torment lasted for over two hours, and only when the energy in the room faded did the priests pull back with satisfied smiles on their faces.
"It is done! The channels have settled properly, and now the bones just need time to heal," the elder priest announced.
"The essence of the Six Yang Divine Art has safely taken root in his dantian as well," another added.
He heard them discussing his fate, suggesting that he should become the disciple of a man named Myeongjin, and despite his internal fury, he could not utter a word of resistance.
The Sect Leader, Myeonghyeon, gave his permission for the child to become Myeongjin's heir, and they decided to bestow upon him a ridiculously Taoist name: Jinmu.
Just hearing the name gave him chills, yet he was forced to endure their prayers and incantations until he finally lost consciousness from the sheer weight of his futile rage.
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A month passed, and Jinmu—now noticeably gaunt—stared blankly into space with hollow eyes, contemplating the absurdity of his new existence.
The legendary Hyeokryeon Mugang, one of the three absolute rulers of the martial world, was now a dying teenage disciple in a crumbling Wudang hermitage.
He had tried everything in his power to escape this purgatory, practicing his prized Ink Dragon Chaos Origin Art while lying in bed, but the Six Yang energy rooted in his gut scattered his power every time he tried to gather it.
"Jinmu!" a voice called out, and to his horror, his body responded with an unconditional reflex.
"Yes! Master!" he blurted out, his mind screaming in protest even as he spoke with perfect, polite deference.
The memories of the boy he now inhabited acted like a tightening band on his soul, controlling his actions at will. His new master, Myeongjin, was the very man he had once crippled during his raid on the Wudang palaces.
He should have killed the man back then; he should have razed every temple on the mountain to the ground, but now he was the one preparing the man's lunch.
He watched himself chop vegetables and simmer broth with practiced skill, even smiling broadly when his master praised the taste of the meal.
It was a psychological hell; every time he tried to run away, the boy's lingering memories forced him back to the hermitage out of a profound sense of duty and worry for his bedridden master.
"Jinmu," Myeongjin said after their meal, "your body has recovered enough, so from today, I will begin teaching you the martial arts of our sect."
The irony was almost too much to bear; one of the world's absolute rulers was being told to learn "Taoist crap" through oral transmission.
He wanted to refuse, but his shell bowed politely in gratitude, and his ears opened to memorize the true formulas of the Six Yang Divine Art as Myeongjin recited them.
Against his will, the energy in his dantian began to stir along his meridians in accordance with the formulas, and his internal power grew day by day in the seclusion of the Void Serenity Hermitage.
The supreme of the unorthodox world had begun his training as a Wudang priest, and for the first time in eighty years, he felt the terrifying weight of a righteous destiny he could not yet escape.