Chapter 8 Welcome to Hell
Welcome to Hell
Chapter 8 – Welcome to Hell
The next morning, at first light.
The martial officer who had reported the incident between Muk Yeojin and Muk Byeongho to his father, [Muk Woomyung (묵우명, Lord of the Sadocheon Sect)], appeared once more.
It was [Baekrangdae (백랑대, White Wolf Division)]’s leader, Ju Gok.
“By order of the Sect Lord, Young Master Muk Yeojin is to be confined in the [Mangdam Hall (망담전)] Punishment Cell for one year.”
Muk Yeojin gave a calm nod and followed behind Ju Gok.
His mother, [Namgung Ryeong-ryeong (남궁령령)], and Pyoyeon had already departed Mangdam Hall early at dawn.
When Yeojin had told his mother about the secret hidden within the punishment cell, she had looked worried for a moment. But soon, she had smiled brightly and left their quarters.
— “I believe you will overcome whatever awaits. Leave outside matters to me, and put aside all worry.”
Yeojin knew instinctively that his mother had made some kind of resolve of her own. But he didn’t bother to ask what it was.
Ju Gok led from the front, Yeojin followed, and the Baekrangdae warriors surrounded them like a prisoner’s escort as they crossed Mangdam Hall.
Yeojin studied them out of the corner of his eye.
‘Baekrangdae… worthy of being the Sect Lord’s direct martial force.’
Not only Ju Gok, the division leader, but even the ordinary members carried themselves with the composure of a still lake.
But Yeojin understood something more.
‘At the Sect Lord’s command, that calmness could transform into a storm, waves overturning the sea itself.’
Just as his father had Baekrangdae, Yeojin too would need trusted warriors of his own.
He could not possibly uproot [Wonim-gyo (원음교, the Cult of Primal Sound)] or prepare for everything alone.
‘Those hidden talents… unpolished gems not yet known to the world. I must gather them, one by one, into my circle.’
With that thought, he recalled the faces of his sworn brothers.
What were they doing now?
[Mangak (맹악)] of the Southern Savage Beast Palace.
>‘By now, he’s probably fighting in the contest for Little Palace Lord.’
[Jangpyeong (장평)] of Mount Hua Sect.
>‘Still immersed in training day and night. Around the time I leave Mangdam Hall, he’ll be setting out into the jianghu. With luck, we may cross paths.’
[Baek Yeomin (백여민)], the young mistress of Northern Sea Ice Palace.
>‘She should already be ruling over the Northern Seas, having ascended to Palace Lord at such a young age.’
And finally, one more.
The one who had sent him back into the past.
[Cheon Hwarin (천화린)].
She… he could not say.
She rarely spoke of herself, and her sect, the [Cheonma Divine Sect (천마신교)], was even more mysterious than the Five Outer Palaces.
Still, one thing was certain.
>She could not have had a peaceful childhood.
After about an hour of walking, Ju Gok and the Baekrangdae warriors led Yeojin to the back of Mangdam Hall, toward [Mokshin Mountain (목신산, God-of-Trees Mountain)].
There, nestled on the mountainside, stood an old manor.
A weathered sign read: [Biyeondong (비연동, “Flying Performance Hall”)].
This was to be his place of confinement for the year.
The crumbling walls and wide-open gates made the place seem like the gaping maw of a snake, waiting to swallow him whole.
Yeojin smirked.
>‘Try it. Swallow me, and it’ll be your jaws that split apart.’
Without hesitation, he stepped into Biyeondong.
The gates slammed shut with a thunderous crash.
And Yeojin froze.
It wasn’t the noise.
>It was the sky above.
Outside, the sky had been dark and heavy with clouds. But the moment he entered Biyeondong, the heavens turned impossibly clear and blue.
“This is… a [jinbeop (진법, grand formation)]?”
And not some paltry array.
>It was a top-grade formation, one that isolated entire spaces.
That alone proved Biyeondong was no ordinary punishment cell.
“Starting with a formation like this… I’ll have to stay sharp.”
But despite the words, a faint smile tugged at Yeojin’s lips.
As he crossed the courtyard toward the main hall, another thought struck him.
“But… what about meals?”
Even the world’s greatest warrior would starve without food.
It didn’t look like any cooks were stationed here.
>Nor was it the kind of formation one could just walk in and out of.
Not even Baekrangdae, direct guards of the Sect Lord, would be tasked with petty errands like carrying meals.
“…Surely they don’t expect a twelve-year-old boy to live off [Byeokgokdan (벽곡단, grain-avoidance pills)] for a whole year…”
Just then.
A piercing cry echoed through the skies.
“Piiiiiik!”
Yeojin’s head shot up.
>Ripples appeared in the sky, as if a stone had struck a pond.
‘Something’s forcing its way through the formation?’
Readying his stance, Yeojin waited.
With a whistle, a shadow pierced through the barrier.
A hawk.
But not an ordinary hawk.
Its wings spanned at least five jang across.
>Its beak and talons gleamed like blades forged by a master smith.
>Every cry from its throat made Yeojin’s heart pound with pressure.
‘An [yeongmul (영물, spirit beast)]!’
And yet, it bore no hostility.
Hovering above, the hawk dropped a bundle at Yeojin’s feet.
Inside were rations and water.
Yeojin laughed aloud.
>“Well now. At least I won’t starve.”
From that day forward, the hawk became his companion.
He named it [Cheongbi (청비, Azure Flight)].
A month passed quickly.
By now, Cheongbi often joined him in the courtyard, even sharing meals by tearing into wild boars it had hunted.
Meanwhile, Yeojin devoted himself to cultivation.
At dawn he trained his body with external arts.
>At night, he cultivated his inner qi.
For his body, he used the foundations of [Sanwangmu (산왕무, Dance of the Mountain King)], a secret art of Mangak’s Beast Palace. Though weakened to suit his young body, it still toughened his bones and muscles at astonishing speed.
And for his qi, he began inner cultivation.
Though twelve was considered a late age to start, Yeojin had one advantage: his past life.
He had once opened his meridians at the age of twenty-five, enduring near-death and breaking his stiff body through sheer will. Compared to then, this body was a gift.
Most prodigies required six months to a year to form their [danjeon (단전, energy center)].
>Yeojin had succeeded in three days.
Within a month, he had advanced past storing qi into his core and reached [Chunggi (充氣, Filling Qi)], circulating energy through his limbs.
Muk Byeongho had needed eight years to reach this same stage.
But for Yeojin, this was only the beginning.
For he was not aiming to be a mere strongman.
That was why he now stood before the hall’s guardian.
A wooden statue.
Not an ordinary statue—three heads, six arms.
An [Asura (아수라)] statue.
Beneath it lay the sealed training chamber filled with his father Muk Woomyung’s insights.
But to enter, one had to pass the trial.
Yeojin steadied his breath and pressed his hand upon the statue.
The Asura’s six eyes gleamed.
>Its chest split open, revealing a stairway descending into darkness.
A chilling wind rushed out.
Yeojin looked up at the first of the statue’s three faces.
It seemed to speak.
“Welcome to Hell.”