Chapter 123
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 123
Chapter Title: Mythical Demonic Spirit Armor (1)
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"It failed."
"What?"
It was an unexpected report from his subordinate. A chill settled into Mokam's mind. Failure had never even crossed his thoughts. That damned bastard was skilled, sure, but he'd handed the Qingcheng Sole Sword the Thunderclap Bomb besides.
"Was that guy really that impressive?"
"No, it's not that. They say the Emei Divine Maiden and Mu-ae's martial prowess exceeded expectations. Both must have at least reached the Superhuman realm."
"Weren't they at the Peak realm just a short while ago?"
"It seems they were hiding their true strength."
Jeok Serin and Mu-ae, who had returned to Emei Sect, reported the betrayal of their martial sister and the mysterious ambush. And in explaining the events, they revealed their skills.
At their age, even possessing Peak realm power would have been remarkable, yet they had demonstrated sword aura. They said they'd sensed something off about Im Yeon-hong and prepared accordingly, barely fending off the ambush.
"What the hell is this?!"
He had rushed things, but he'd minimized the variables that could affect the plan. If everything had gone as expected, he could have diverted attention to Sichuan. But overlooking the most critical variable had cost him dearly. Who would have thought Jeok Serin and Mu-ae would notice Im Yeon-hong's change of heart?
Still, something felt off.
"Any chance that guy's involved?"
"Can't rule it out, but confirming it right now would be difficult. Emei Sect has requested the Beggars' Sect to seal off the area."
Of course. It was an attack on their sect's prized prospect. Emei wouldn't just sit idly by. And those women were sharp. Unless Tak Gwang-un had hidden his full power, with things gone awry, he would have revealed his Qingcheng martial arts. Yet the women hadn't mentioned Qingcheng at all.
"Tell them to lie low for now."
"Understood, Branch Lord."
It was too early to use the seed. This incident would have put Emei on high alert, and the Beggars' Sect wouldn't take it lightly either. Acting rashly now would only give them an opening.
"What about that guy?"
"He's traveling through Sichuan, hunting down gourmet spots."
Mokam's ironclad composure wavered like reeds in the wind at the carefree journey of Cheonun Fist. The root of all this chaos was still off wandering. He wanted nothing more than to tear the bastard apart, but for now, it was impossible. Pouring his energy into that guy could doom the real plan.
That only fueled his rage further.
'I'll kill you with my own hands someday.'
Crunch!
Scratch, scratch!
Was someone trash-talking me hard? My ears were itching like crazy today. It wouldn't be this bad from just one or two people. I'd never made enemies in my life, so it was baffling.
'A pacifist like me, of all people.'
-You're itching for it on purpose.
'I resolved it peacefully.'
-Is the eve of war peaceful?
'The eve can last a while.'
-Wanna bet?
Mujin quickly changed the subject. It was better not to take bets he couldn't win. Beating the Demon King wouldn't even be fun.
Mujin arrived at Mok-ri, the border between Sichuan and Yunnan. Traveling by carriage to various spots had taken longer than planned. He'd stirred things up across Sichuan in coordination with the Beggars' Sect, but he still needed to watch their eyes.
He sold the horse to Mok-ri's local landowner at a fair price. It was a fine steed, but not suited for climbing mountains.
The carriage, however, was essential. Instead of the horse, Cheol-ho, Na-rung, and Yuk-chil pulled it. The narrow terrain made it time-consuming.
Before reaching the destination, they took a break. He boiled dumplings bought from the village in meat broth.
"Emei Sect's handled. What about Qingcheng?"
"For Qingcheng, the sudden disappearance of the Sole Sword and disciples has them in turmoil. But their reluctance to investigate aggressively is suspicious."
Jeok Serin and Mu-ae had covered cleverly upon returning to Emei, keeping Mujin out of the spotlight. With the Beggars' Sect working alongside Emei, they had to tread carefully, suspicions aside.
"Qingcheng's the bigger problem, then."
"We've classified Qingcheng as a primary target."
"Don't poke them for now."
"The Chief Branch Leader agrees."
There were likely higher-ups involved within Qingcheng itself. Uncovering them would be tricky. They wouldn't reveal themselves easily, and rash moves could backfire. Better to probe cautiously for the time being.
"They won't come after me now, right?"
"Probably not."
Emei and the Beggars' Sect were digging around, and Nangong and Tang families were involved too. They weren't foolish enough to act impulsively in this situation.
"But don't they want to kill you?"
"Even better."
"Pardon?"
"Emotions lead to mistakes."
It wasn't entirely deliberate, but Mujin was shaking the Demonic Cult intentionally. He couldn't predict their exact response later, but accumulated failures bred errors inevitably.
'Damn, the more I know, the scarier he gets!'
Yuk-chil, who had to report back, was glad he wasn't Mujin's enemy. The more he thought of him as one, the more terrifying it became. He committed acts beyond common sense without hesitation, yet somehow steered events to his advantage. That wasn't a skill you could learn.
'Like a scheming fox, but why?'
That's why he was so hard to fathom. He defied logic entirely. His unpredictable actions yielded results, making him all the more frightening.
'No clue if he even has a goal!'
Watching from the side, it seemed like he just acted on whims. No matter how much superiors pressed Yuk-chil, he learned nothing. And whenever he thought he knew, the answers always shifted afterward.
Just look at his internal energy—it defied analysis.
"Na-rung, this the place?"
"Yes, my lord."
Following the remote path from Mok-ri toward Yunnan led to a gloomy mountain shrouded in black clouds all day long.
Ink Cloud Mountain.
Encircling it like a belt of inky clouds, the mountain was night-dark even in broad daylight. It brooded year-round, damp and rainy.
Even locals in Mok-ri avoided Ink Cloud Mountain. Even those familiar with the terrain often got lost in the dense foliage, and at night, it became pitch blackness.
Rumors of ghosts kept people from the area away entirely.
"Looks promising."
The clouds resembled demonic shapes, delighting Mujin. For treasures, a place needed that level of ominous vibe—that was his firm belief.
'See? Totally unhinged!'
'Why do you like it?'
Most would shy away, but seeing Mujin's bright face left them deflated. Then again, the idea of him feeling fear lacked credibility. His track record distanced him from normalcy.
"Let's go treasure hunting."
"My lord, watch for traps."
Na-rung's plea bounced off Mujin's ears. He was already striding ahead thoughtlessly.
"Not that way."
"Oh, right."
Cheol-ho and Yuk-chil's heads throbbed at Mujin's reckless advance, distracted by treasure. Traps from the Heavenly Warrior demanded caution.
They hoped it was confidence, not recklessness.
Deep into the mountain, darkness enveloped them. Towering trees blocked all sunlight.
Na-rung, the most skilled in internal energy, kept his bearings. True to his Night Lord title, his night vision was exceptional—befitting the king of darkness on the streets.
He never forgot a place he'd visited, even pure blackness. He navigated by terrain feel alone.
"Just over that ridge."
"Impressive."
"It's nothing."
"Remembering people, objects, and terrain? That's huge. Be proud."
"Thank you."
For a directionally challenged Mujin, Na-rung was invaluable. He'd always bring him along in the future.
Upon returning home, he'd send Na-rung to scout unvisited areas. That way, even unknown paths would feel familiar—like strolling usual routes! Perfect for guiding his wife and daughter safely!
Crossing the ridge downward, they entered a crevice between cliffs hidden by foliage. Without knowing the terrain, most would miss it.
The cliffs formed a cave-like passage.
Vines like kudzu blanketed the entrance. Na-rung had cut a small gap just wide enough for himself before.
Slash, slash!
Mujin slowly bored through the blocking vines with a carriage-sized energy sphere. It doubled as a torch, illuminating brightly. And per the caster's will, it could drill. Vines disintegrated on contact.
Step, step!
Mujin strolled casually, hands behind his back, through the neatly squared tunnel. Energy spheres weren't fixed as balls; they morphed freely—perfect for tomb raiding.
'Time leaves no mark here.'
Na-rung, Yuk-chil, and Cheol-ho, needed for the carriage, followed without issue.
Whoosh!
Deeper into the vine cave, an unbelievable sight unfolded—not at all like Ink Cloud Mountain. Pillars of light beamed down on pools and streams where fairies might bathe.
Dazed by the dazzling scene? Not quite.
"Don't these hidden paradises usually overflow with spirit herbs, beasts, fruits? Why's it all just grass?"
The beauty stirred no emotion in worldly Mujin. Every mountain had its Peach Blossom Land. It needed fitting grandeur—like spirit oil or gems.
Without that, it was just a scenic brook. At least a millennium-old serpent, monkey, or tiger guarding it.
Tsk!
He'd hoped for a quick tonic, but not even a thousand-year snake. Doubts crept into his view of the Heavenly Warrior's discernment.
Cheol-ho and Yuk-chil spotted some ha-su-o.
"Looks over a century old."
"What good's a century root."
Minimum millennium, ideally ten thousand for value. A century was weed. The Heavenly Warrior had died centuries ago; even planted then, it'd be overgrown now. His foresight seemed dubious. Did this guy really inherit Heaven's Martial?
"Martial arts aren't the point."
Mujin prayed inwardly.
If the Heavenly Warrior was the era's strongest, he should've hoarded gold like mountains. Treasures or artifacts counted too. Wasting effort on martial arts alone? Desecration at minimum, hell-bound rituals.
"This way."
"There'd better be treasure."
"...Of course."
"Otherwise, you're joining him."
"...Y-yes, sir!"
It hadn't been grueling getting here, but he'd been away from his beloved wife and daughter over a month. After unintentionally crossing the continent returning home, a mountain of fine treasures was fair compensation.
'Too honest—no words!'
'Hypocrites, take notes!'
'Master, you're so materialistic!'
No trace of absolute expert dignity, even with eyes wide. His brutal honesty just twisted guts. Faithful only to his feelings.