Chapter 108
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: Internal Strife (2)
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Cheol-ho was dull in temperament but possessed a genius-level aptitude for physical cultivation. Learning, mastering, training, refining—it was all straightforward for him. That was how he quickly found his own path.
"Don't just squawk like a parrot and strut around."
'Real combat is where I'm better.'
"If you can't explain it with words, it's worthless."
'Shut up, you beakless bird.'
Despite the grumbling, Mujin and Cheon-gyeong acknowledged each other. They were coming to terms with each other's strengths and weaknesses when it came to discussing power. In particular, they were sparring within the world of the mind.
The battles in the mindscape might differ from real combat, but Mujin was reaping tangible benefits from them. Especially remarkable was the effect of Soul-Piercing Demonic Eye, which transferred that mental reinforcement into physical strengthening. That was undoubtedly Cheon-gyeong's contribution.
'This is a commemoration. I'll let you win once.'
"Shut your mouth!"
'Opportunities like this don't come often. Come at me—I won't dodge.'
"Don't play tricks!"
Mujin had feigned vulnerability to counter Cheon-gyeong's attacks in the past, turning defense into offense. After getting caught a few times, Cheon-gyeong no longer bit the bait. Unbefitting a Demon King, he was surprisingly cautious.
'I thought he'd act like Nangong Sae, but no such luck.'
"The stronger the pure-blood ideology, the more fragile they become once the central figure vanishes. The Dang Clan is proof of that. From the outside, they look united as blood kin, but internally, relations between direct and branch lines are far from amicable. It's even worse for those who aren't pure-blood, like the Golden-Haired Death God."
'True, they fell for it too easily.'
To give Dang Yeon-woo a pretext, Mujin had exploited Dang Yeon-cheon's envy and jealousy—but it had happened far too quickly timing-wise. That implied there were sympathizers within who deliberately wanted the issue to surface.
In reality, once the incident came to light, Dang Myeong-hu's children would face death or punishment.
So, who would benefit from that?
Direct blood relatives who eyed the next position stood to gain when something happened to Dang Myeong-hu's offspring. Openly aiming for heir apparent was difficult, but not impossible with justification.
'Obvious, and there are plenty of them.'
"That's why pure-blood ideology breeds so many problems."
The stronger the tendency to protect one's own family, the greater the chance of the household crumbling into infighting. It wasn't uncommon for clans to fall from internal strife rather than external threats.
'But why hasn't it fully erupted yet?'
"Because the Sword Emperor went berserk before."
If Mujin hadn't intervened, the Sword Emperor would have caused a disaster at the Little Dragon Tournament, and the Dang Clan would have allied with other families to pressure the Nangong Clan. It revealed how the Demonic Cult of the Demon God orchestrated events, linking pieces into a larger picture rather than letting it end with one incident.
'How many baits did they scatter? They're masters of intrigue.'
"Intrigue? It's standard to win wars. Those who don't prepare are the fools."
Without Mujin's interference, the gears would have meshed perfectly, weakening the Five Great Clans. Mujin could picture the panic of those who had plotted and executed the scheme. The Demonic Cult never tolerated failure.
'Hong Mu-gae needs to handle his part well.'
"Pushing him into a corner might backfire."
'If he ignores the warning, he deserves to die.'
"Focus on your own business first."
'At least we snagged one card.'
"Who knows how a man poisoned by resentment will react."
Stubbornness had its place. If he couldn't read the room and clung to his pride to the end, he was a useless card. In that case, Mujin would abandon expectations. He could just take the Golden-Haired Death God and return to the sect. Even as the foremost poison clan, they weren't worth clinging to without potential. The top priority was the Golden-Haired Death God anyway.
'Still, staying here's better.'
"We need to learn the Dang Clan's orthodox poison arts."
The Golden-Haired Death God's strength lay in poison techniques. Dang Yeon-woo's current skills weren't perfected. There hadn't been time to master the clan's signature techniques. The best was becoming the official heir and receiving direct transmission; the fallback was seeking other poison arts. The former would waste less time and give leverage over the clan.
Munch, munch!
He was pondering deeply while popping snacks from the tea tray into his mouth.
"You sure have good fortune."
Mujin, eyes half-lidded, had to look up at her since he was lounging. The sunlight reflecting off her dazzled his eyes.
"What brings you here?"
"How on earth did you become a guest of the main household?"
"The clan head has discerning eyes."
"As if that's an answer!"
"Then no?"
"...That's not it either."
For Dang Cheon-ye-ro, denying it would amount to insulting the clan head. It was disloyal conduct unbecoming a Dang blood relative. Mujin cleverly exploited that to shut down her line of questioning.
'Ugh, what an infuriating guy!'
Having been thoroughly beaten by Cheol-ho and carried back to the clan by her brother, Dang Cheon-ye-ro saw this as a humiliating debacle. She had assumed Mujin—who insulted a Dang blood relative—would be captured that day.
Far from it.
There he was, sprawled under the eaves of Jinyuan Pavilion, the guest quarters, munching snacks. His carefree lounging was so aggravating she felt an urge to stomp on his face.
'This makes no sense.'
It defied common sense. A man who humiliated the Dang Clan had overnight become a VIP guest, treated like royalty. It was blatantly unfair, yet it was the clan head's order—and the elders had accepted it.
'There must be something to it.'
They wouldn't accept him without reason. There was inside information beyond her level. But no one gave straight answers, leaving her frustrated.
"You won't tell me?"
"If the clan head ordered silence, there must be unavoidable circumstances. But if you still want to know, I'll tell you. Interested?"
"So there is something."
"Why ask if you already guess? The Dang Clan isn't known for hospitality to strangers."
Dang Cheon-ye-ro had her suspicions.
The young master hadn't been seen for days. The timing was suspiciously aligned. Some problem had arisen, and this guy likely resolved it.
Even so, the VIP treatment was hard to fathom.
The Dang Clan had never taken in just anyone across generations. Honoring a guest meant expecting contributions. Over time, they had come to rely on no one else.
"Challenge me anytime if you want."
"Not today—I don't feel like getting humiliated again."
"Giving up? Disappointing."
"Who said I'm giving up? I'll prepare thoroughly and bide my time for the next chance."
Her defeat to Cheol-ho had shocked Dang Cheon-ye-ro. She prided herself on having few peers her age. Even in loss, she expected a fierce fight. Reality had been one-sided.
"You're really seventeen? Not fifty?"
"That's harsh!"
Cheol-ho, who maintained unbreakable focus even if the sky fell, slipped and tumbled several rolls before standing. But the disruption to his forms paled compared to the shock of Dang Cheon-ye-ro's rude remark.
Still, as his disciple...
Mujin comforted Cheol-ho while scolding Dang Cheon-ye-ro. There were words fit for humans and those that weren't.
A master might get a pass.
"Sorry, I got carried away."
"Watch your words. Think how hurt he'll be. He looks fifty, but his heart's that of a blooming seventeen-year-old boy."
"...?"
Just days ago, he'd called him middle-aged!
Suddenly aged a decade by time itself, Cheol-ho clung to Jinyuan Pavilion's wall, sulking. He'd gained some confidence after shedding his mortal frame recently, but reality was cruel. The gaze he admired in others differed vastly from how they saw him.
"He's really your disciple?"
"Boasting from my own mouth sounds arrogant, but no master cherishes his pupil like I do."
Dang Cheon-ye-ro shook her fine jaw in exasperation. This guy was incorrigible at toying with people, just like before. His skill at riling folks up was unrivaled.
"If he's hurt, I'm sorry. Wasn't intentional."
Admitting her mistake, she apologized to Cheol-ho. His tigerish looks made his sulking against the wall quite the spectacle.
Even somewhat endearing.
"Up close, you don't look that old-eyed."
"Really?"
"Not bad at all."
"...Right!"
Tsk, tsk, tsk!
Mujin clicked his tongue.
He wouldn't stand by while his disciple fell for a beauty's sweet talk. As his pupil, Cheol-ho must forge his path steadfastly alone, not drooling over such honeyed lies! All prior teachings down the drain—what a pity.
Beauties, it was said, favored the capable and handsome.
"Flattery and pretense are cheap seductions. My disciple, open your eyes. Sweet words always come with a price. Especially from a Dang woman—who knows when she'll stab you in the back."
"...She wouldn't!"
At Mujin's barrage of insults, Dang Cheon-ye-ro's jaw dropped. How did he see people to spout such nonsense?
"You look precisely forty-five. My word is heaven, thus law—the root of all things. Reject not the truth."
"...Middle-aged, you said!"
"Misconception."
"...Damn this world—I'll smash it all!"
Dang Cheon-ye-ro's jaw dropped further, like descending stairs. To spout such absurdities with utter seriousness proved he was no ordinary man.
But she was surprised once more soon after.
Woooom, whoosh!
Why was he igniting?
He took the nonsense seriously again. The explosive surge of his aura exceeded her expectations. It was a fearsome fighting spirit she rarely sensed.
'...He's grown stronger!'
Hard to say he was at full power. Yet his very nature had strengthened. The higher the realm, the harder to break through walls.
Cheol-ho's realm was no lightweight. He wielded strength undreamt of at his age. Naturally, he should agonize over barriers, mired in doubt. Insights could strike suddenly, but not like this.
'This can't be!'
Their master-disciple bond defied logic. Yet it was the most perfect possible. Absorbing nonsense and growing from it was impossible otherwise.
"No shortcut to escaping old eyes. Only shedding mortality ten times over. Understand?"
"Yes, Master!"
He bought it again!
Dang Cheon-ye-ro's head throbbed. She'd come here unnecessarily and witnessed an unsightly scene. Not why she'd visited.
"Do it ten times. Then you'll meet women."
"I'll achieve it no matter what!"
Stop, you fools!
Why burn with zeal for such triviality? Anyone would think it grand purpose or conviction. Who'd imagine desperation just to meet girls?
The karma was bizarre.
Trivial goal, excessive process.
Shedding mortality wasn't some casual feat anyone could spam. Ten times? He'd grind his bones to dust.
'Perfect.'
Readjusting Cheol-ho's aura, Mujin smiled contentedly. Sweet talk bore watching. Not a single waver—Cheol-ho must become the Iron King.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Watch out for your aunt. She seems to be biding her time."
"Why target someone minding his own business?"
"Knew you'd say that. Otherwise, sprawl and snore away carefree!"
Dang Cheon-ye-ro turned to leave, done associating. Conversations with him always left her tongue-tied. Unfamiliar for her, who never yielded in talk.
Glance!
At Jinyuan Pavilion's threshold, she looked back briefly.
'Cute.'
Most tastes aligned, but some peculiar women... people existed.
