Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Change (1)
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‘A secret regression technique you happened to obtain?’
-Originally, I planned to return myself. But after meeting you, I figured you'd be better suited for it, so I used the Blood Return Demonic Wheel Stone I'd embedded in my heart.
The Demon King had undergone survival training from childhood to young adulthood at locations dictated by someone's orders. Hundreds of children were dragged in, fighting to the death until only one remained.
It was breeding in the truest sense—for the sake of creating a Demon King.
The lone survivor, Cheon-gyeong, had ascended to the Demon King Art's tenth star and become the cult leader, invading the Central Plains.
Mujin hadn't imagined the Demon King had been bred like that, so he was a bit surprised.
‘They bred you? You didn't seem like the type to serve under anyone.’
-I never intended to serve under anyone either. But I couldn't break free from the restrictions they imposed. Even without them, I'm not sure I could've won.
The Demon King had trampled the Central Plains' absolute masters single-handedly. To think such a being was merely a controlled underling due to those restrictions. It made the martial world, which had been utterly defeated by him, seem even more pathetic than before. And even without the restrictions, he admitted it would've been a tough fight.
‘Do you know who they were?’
-My memories from then are hazy—they must've erased them. When the restrictions activate, your consciousness sinks beneath the surface.
‘Without me, even you would've been screwed.’
Mujin didn't hesitate to boast about himself, even in the midst of this grave discussion.
And it was true, to some extent.
It also meant the martial world was that hopelessly incompetent. The so-called prestigious sects and renowned warriors had put on quite the show. Even in that state, they'd divided themselves into factions and hierarchies regardless of skill. That said it all.
Defeating the Demonic Cult of the Demon God was entirely Mujin's achievement. No objections allowed.
-You're not wrong.
‘Not wrong? It's obvious. Honestly, aside from me, there was no one in the Central Plains who could stand against you. So you must've seen me as a thorn in your side.’
-You're just as amusing now as you were back then.
‘But why'd you let me live?’
He tossed the question out casually, but Mujin had pierced straight to the core. Bluntly put, his power back then had been half a level above the Demon King's. Anyone who could restrict the Demon King would've been beyond him too. That's what didn't make sense.
-All I know is that the time wasn't right.
‘Probably some time constraint, location limit, or another restriction.’
-I thought it was nonsense, but you're sharp.
‘You think I won the title of War King gambling? Anyway, I hated seeing those sneaky bastards who wanted us to die together strutting around like they owned the place. Might as well get trampled by whatever Demon Emperor or Demon God they serve.’
‘Wait, I almost forgot—why are you talking down to me, you kid?’
-Are you one of those age-obsessed old fogeys?
‘You gotta know your place. From now on, address me respectfully as big brother.’
-No.
‘Hey, I'm stronger than you.’
-We both died in the end.
The exchange was childish.
You shouldn't discriminate based on age or martial arts. Truth be told, Mujin had just said it for fun. Who wouldn't want to hear "big brother" from the Demon King? He wasn't a demon god himself.
-Coming back has been entertaining.
‘...What?’
-It wasn't bad.
‘...You can watch?’
-I can hear too.
‘You damn pervert, that's invading my privacy!’
His wife's private moments exposed, Mujin's face flushed. No matter how much he loved her, there were things to show and things not to. It was embarrassing, and he had to protect his woman's secrets.
Huh?
Mujin sensed something off.
Until now, they hadn't been able to converse directly. He'd had to open a channel through personal meditation... this damn guy!
‘You sneaky...?’
-You fell for it easily.
‘You little punk, daring to toy with the War King!’
-You're the one who toyed with the Demon King!
The kid was young, but devilishly sly like a true Demon King.
Sharp-tongued too.
Mujin wondered if he'd always been this talkative. Bred like livestock, yet his pride was sky-high. No wonder he'd prepared to backstab them.
The Demon King felt an odd sensation.
This was a grave matter tied to the Central Plains' fate—perhaps the martial world's crossroads.
-Doesn't it bother you? Even knowing those breeders exist. This isn't the time for jokes.
‘Want me to smack you now?’
-You'd either get captured, bred, or killed.
‘Fair point. But do you know where they are?’
-I don't know much. Once my demonic art reached completion, all I cared about was invading the Central Plains.
‘And you were the cult leader... jeez.’
Mujin had to accept that the Demon King had been nothing more than a handler's tool. He wasn't the type to lie. Even if the Demonic Cult of the Demon God hadn't fully mobilized yet, per the Demon King's words, there was no clear path forward now. Rushing in before recovering his martial arts would likely mean vanishing without a trace—if he was lucky.
-Their real moves start in ten years. I can't grasp the current flow either.
‘Figures.’
He'd heard the martial world began deviating slightly ten years from now.
It hit him suddenly.
Around that time, the Pine Tiger Sect had been wiped out. Coincidentally. When he'd mastered the War King Art and returned home, the shock was so great he hadn't dug deep into the details. Since they were dead, he figured finding out wouldn't matter.
He'd simply chosen the Demonic Cult of the Demon God as his revenge target.
‘I don't wanna leave the house.’
-Isn't that a good thing?
‘What?’
-You can protect it this time.
‘Sharp kid.’
As the War King, Mujin had confronted the Demonic Cult of the Demon God, which had plunged the continent into crisis, leading to a surface victory. His solitary feat was worthy of history books.
He'd become a war hero, but Mujin always felt an emptiness in his heart. Victories and achievements brought no joy. He'd realized far too late the value of those to share them with.
-Just get stronger.
‘Wise words from a Demon King.’
-It's Jang Cheon-gyeong.
‘Right, brother Cheon-gyeong.’
-You're laying it on thick.
Mujin felt Cheon-gyeong's will—he didn't want to become the Demon King. The resonance confirmed it was genuine. Even under restrictions, he'd sought a way out, showing extraordinary resolve. He'd have had to act the part to fool any watchers nearby.
Mujin took stock of his current self.
The Evolution Art was at three stars—equivalent to ten years of internal energy. Compared to his hundred-year cultivation as the War King, it was a drop in the bucket. Not just in quantity, but quality too.
‘Internal energy isn't everything.’
The Demon King's energy back then had nearly reached a millennium. Purely in terms of energy, even the legends like Dalma or Heavenly Demon would yield. That absurd depth emanated a soul-chilling demonic aura. Even equal energy, demonic qi held destructive power.
Yet Mujin had brought the Demon King to his knees.
His Armed Combat, built on the War King Art, dominated battlefields—the more he fought, the stronger it grew. He'd refined experiences learned in combat into his own unique art through Armed Combat.
Armed Combat's basics were simple. He'd stripped away complexities through endless spars and battles, finding optimal paths.
Strike, break, void—the fundamentals. Fight, retreat, deflect, feint, advance.
It might seem cowardly at times.
He rolled, crawled, scattered, fled without hesitation. But battlefields weren't sparring grounds. One mistake meant death. The War King's art prioritized survival. Survive to the end, fight on, win, and press forward—that was the War King Art.
Superiority of forms held little meaning.
On the battlefield, he didn't divide techniques into low or high. He'd use high forms when needed, combine lows into chains. Their power varied by opponent.
Thus, fights with third-rate warriors differed vastly from those with absolute masters. Even against impossible odds, the War King always emerged victorious.
It was an art forged through paths of death.
Fists, palms, fingers, feet, soles, toes, knees, elbows, head—his entire body was a weapon. How he wielded them determined the power.
Weapons were no exception.
He used whatever came to hand, as the situation demanded. Not a master of the eighteen classical arms, but perfect when he employed them. Rigorous training and mortal combats had optimized it naturally. He'd learned mid-fight what killed foes.
‘I'll figure it out as I go.’
Impossible wasn't in the War King's dictionary. Still, he needed to organize key memories. Internal energy didn't decide victories alone, but basics mattered.
‘First, circulate my energy with the War King Art.’
Fortunately—or unfortunately—the Evolution Art hadn't reached a level where mastering the War King Art would be hard. Its inadequacy made it suitable. Better than starting from zero.
‘Experience is key, especially.’
One tricky part of the War King Art. Without accumulated battle experience, advancing was tough; mastery required intuitive control.
Mujin called it the Super-Sensory Domain.
The War King Art didn't require lotus position.
It was designed for equal cultivation in any stance. Impressive, but logical for a combat art. How often could one sit comfortably? It emphasized recovering full strength anytime, anywhere.
Huh?
Not long after starting circulation...
The War King Art reached the second stage.
Twenty years of equivalent energy gained in an instant. Ten years' worth surged in a flash. Superior to his family's heart art, but not this fast.
‘You?’
-Maybe.
The Demon King's demonic art seemed to influence it. A hypothesis: the demonic art's rapid progress combined with the War King Art.
But turning demonic would be trouble. He checked for accumulating demonic qi. He trusted the War King Art, but the Demon King Art was no slouch.
Whew!
No mixing. Pure natural energy advanced swiftly. Not faster than circulating existing energy, of course.
‘This is good.’
-If you like it, I'll keep helping.
‘Try any tricks, and you're done.’
-Helping, and you bitch.
‘Who knows? Maybe you're buttering me up to take over my body.’
-If so, I'd have come alone.
‘Bull. You couldn't back then.’
-So you knew.
Mujin had returned via Cheon-gyeong but didn't fully trust him. Trust a demon over people? He'd watch and wait, but any funny business, and he'd scour the continent to exorcise the soul.
For now, he was glad there was no urge to leave home.
‘Now I can operate the War King Art and Demon King Art simultaneously.’
It mimicked Wudang's legendary Dual Mind Art's mind division. Splitting consciousness defied common sense. Mishandled, it could cause permanent schizophrenia.
‘Those Wudang crazies supposedly went mad practicing it.’
Even Wudang discouraged the Dual Mind Art unless one had a special physique like the Taiji Body.
Of course, some overcame it—peerless geniuses, grandmasters of their era.
‘Hm, recovery's faster too.’
-Bow before me.
‘Shut it.’
-It's my power.
‘I said quiet.’
-Shameless.
‘Who invited you in?’
This guy talked more than expected. Like a chatterbox finally unleashing decades of pent-up words.
Anyway, it boosted the War King Art's energy recovery. Mujin was pleased with the faster-than-expected progress. He'd regain his past strength soon enough.