Chapter 123
Chapter 123
The Hall of Forgotten Arts (2)
The reason Seo-Woon didn't immediately depart for the Beast Palace after concluding his business with the Cheoncheon Unit was simple—he needed to establish a connection with the Divine Maiden Sect.
"I believe the sect leader will be coming to the Tang family with me."
Thanks to Soo-Rin's intelligence as a Cheoncheon Unit member, he'd known the Divine Maiden Sect Leader would arrive. Though he could have left immediately, he chose to wait.
Considering the travel time to the Beast Palace and the Heavenly Battle Festival's schedule, he'd waited until the last possible moment—and finally, the sect leader arrived at the Tang family estate.
'After securing the Beast Palace, my next target is Sichuan. For that, an alliance with the Divine Maiden Sect is essential.'
The moment he obtained the Mystical Forge, he would declare his stance between the orthodox and unorthodox factions.
And when that happened, the Qingcheng Faction—who had been sharpening their blades against him and the Tang family—wouldn't remain idle. At the very least, he needed to ensure the Divine Maiden Sect wouldn't raise their swords against him when the time came.
A glint flashed in Seo-Woon's eyes.
'Only then can I unify Sichuan under my banner.'
The Emei Sect and the Divine Maiden Sect.
He would subjugate every martial faction in Sichuan beneath him—orthodox and unorthodox alike—excluding those two.
Though the Sichuan Tang family's influence was growing exponentially, they still weren't powerful enough to bring all of Sichuan to heel. While Seo-Woon himself was practically a one-man army, his subordinates were still in the midst of their training.
Which was why he needed a force to serve as the first stepping stone for his grand scheme.
'That force is the Beast Palace.'
Currently, the Beast Palace was the only faction Seo-Woon could obtain without bloodshed.
But to achieve that, two conditions had to be met.
First, he had to win the Heavenly Battle Festival to earn the right to challenge the Beast Palace Lord. In a realm governed by the law of the strong like the Beast Palace, power had to be proven.
But that alone wouldn't be enough. There was one final requirement.
'The Divine Artifact slumbering within the Hall of Forgotten Arts.'
Defeating the Beast Palace Lord was a given. No matter how powerful Umun Gol might be, he stood no chance against Seo-Woon at full strength.
The only problem was his current disguise. Even if he became the final victor, the entire Beast Palace might turn against him for deceiving them.
While he could theoretically persuade them that the deception was necessary to evade the Blood Cult's eyes, there was a far more overwhelming way to claim ownership—by obtaining the Beast Palace's Divine Artifact.
"He who obtains the Divine Artifact of the Beast Palace shall become its true master."
That was the legend woven into the lost artifact of the Beast Palace—words left behind by Chuk Yeo-un, the first Beast Palace Lord whom his disciples revered like a god.
Yet as implied by the term "lost," the Beast Palace currently had no Divine Artifact. Everyone desired to recover it, but none could even guess its form. So much time had passed since its disappearance that not even a single clue remained.
But they would soon be utterly devastated—for a reason only Seo-Woon knew.
'It's been right under their noses for centuries, yet they never found it.'
Creak.
Found it.
Seo-Woon halted his steps as he wandered through the Hall of Forgotten Arts.
Swish.
Then, without hesitation, he reached out toward the "Divine Artifacts" he'd already located.
'Tch, this is so damn tedious.'
Jiangshi #7 of the Jiangshi Sect barely suppressed his rising irritation during his mission.
"Track Pae Tae-Woon's movements. If he enters the Hall of Forgotten Arts, record every martial manual he selects in detail and report back."
He was already swamped with crafting Jiangshi—why the hell was he being ordered to spy on some random nobody?
'If that damned sect leader hadn't been changing his face and running around, I could've finished this ages ago.'
Internally, he hurled every curse imaginable at Qilian Demon, who was busy acting suspiciously within the Beast Palace.
Rustle.
"...!"
But his frustration was short-lived. A glint flashed in Jiangshi #7's eyes—his surveillance target had finally begun to move.
Pae Tae-Woon strode decisively through the Hall of Forgotten Arts, where martial manuals were stacked like mountains.
Following from the shadows above, Jiangshi #7 trailed him.
'What kind of martial arts is this bastard after?'
His target moved boldly, as if he'd already decided on something from the start.
Creak.
Sure enough, he soon stopped.
The manuals he reached for were a set of five.
Jiangshi #7 mentally recorded their names for his report.
'Heh. Greed really does make humans all the same.'
He sneered contemptuously at Pae Tae-Woon.
Thousand Oblique Sky Martial Arts.
The martial arts of Chuk Yeo-un, the first Beast Palace Lord.
The Beast Palace provided martial manuals to all disciples without discrimination—a rule established by Chuk Yeo-un himself.
Given how the disciples revered their first lord like a god, it was no surprise that the Thousand Oblique Sky Martial Arts was the most commonly sought-after manual in the Hall of Forgotten Arts.
'But it's all a waste of effort.'
The Thousand Oblique Sky Martial Arts was undoubtedly a supreme technique.
Yet for centuries, not a single person had mastered it.
Though it was a divine art that once dominated both the southern barbarian lands and the Central Plains, something about it was fundamentally flawed.
'It completely contradicts the foundational principles of all external martial arts in the Beast Palace.'
The more one trained in it, the weaker their body became—the exact opposite of the Beast Palace's external martial arts, which focused on hardening the body and strengthening the soul.
Training in it made the body frail and the soul unstable.
Thus, alongside the Divine Artifact, the Thousand Oblique Sky Martial Arts was regarded as one of the Beast Palace's greatest mysteries.
Eventually, the disciples concluded that only their first lord had been born with the unique physique required to practice it.
Since then, the Beast Palace's tribal chiefs strictly forbade their warriors from wasting time on the first lord's martial arts when visiting the Hall of Forgotten Arts.
'But this fool has no one to advise him.'
As expected, he was just another worthless nobody.
With that, the last shred of suspicion Jiangshi #7 had toward Pae Tae-Woon vanished completely.
Creak.
Right on cue, Pae Tae-Woon entered a private training chamber connected to the Hall of Forgotten Arts.
Just as Jiangshi #7 turned to leave and report to his superiors—
Tap.
'Huh?'
A sudden sensation touched the crown of his head—like a raindrop.
He reached up to wipe it away, but the moisture had already evaporated without a trace.
Shhh.
Dismissing it as nothing, Jiangshi #7 swiftly exited the Hall of Forgotten Arts.
At that very moment—
Whooom.
From the shadows draped across the ceiling, an unseen figure emerged.
Moo-Myung stared coldly in the direction Jiangshi #7 had disappeared.
Over the past few days, he'd been slowly poisoning the enemy with a toxin designed to spread contagiously.
The infected host would return to his comrades and spread the poison like a plague.
'I wonder if that damn junior of mine has any idea how much his senior is looking out for him.'
Shaking his head, Moo-Myung's figure faded like mist.
'Feels like stepping into a pit of fire.'
That was Seo-Woon's first impression upon entering the training chamber.
The Beast Palace's main hall was built atop an extreme geothermal zone.
Endless waves of scorching heat rose from the earth, and sulfur fumes tormented practitioners.
Anyone who cultivated fiery yang-based martial arts would pay a fortune to train here.
Though he could easily lower the temperature using the Ice Lotus Sect's techniques, Seo-Woon left it untouched as he settled in.
The chamber resembled a small cave, just spacious enough for one person to move around.
The walls bore marks left by previous practitioners—gouges, cracks, and even bloodstains—evidence of the brutal external martial training that had taken place here.
Without even warming up, Seo-Woon got straight to the point.
"Now, shall we begin?"
Whoosh!
With one hand, he tossed all five manuals of the Thousand Oblique Sky Martial Arts into the air.
Vooom!
At the same time, dozens of silk threads erupted from his hands.
Slice!
Shrrrk!
The manuals were cleanly bisected, their pages scattering like cherry blossoms in the wind.
But only for a moment.
Rustle!
Every inch of the chamber's walls and floor was soon densely covered with the loose pages, as if the room itself had been rebuilt from the manuals.
It was a scene as beautiful as an ink painting—but any Beast Palace disciple who witnessed it would have flown into a rage.
To dare deface the first lord's manuals so brazenly!
Yet Seo-Woon felt neither fear nor hesitation.
'This was Chuk Yeo-un's intention all along.'
Sizzle!
Crackle!
At that moment, the pages on the walls began burning rapidly from the geothermal heat.
Normally, they should have turned to ash in an instant, but something extraordinary happened instead.
Plop!
Drip!
The densely inscribed verses of the Thousand Oblique Sky Martial Arts melted away, transforming into droplets that trickled downward.
Swoooosh!
The black liquid began swirling around Seo-Woon like a vortex.
Then, the first lord's final message surfaced in his mind.
"He who obtains the Divine Artifact of the Beast Palace shall become its true master."
For centuries, the Beast Palace had interpreted "Divine Artifact" as a sacred relic.
But they were wrong.
What Chuk Yeo-un truly meant was "divine ink."
The ink he'd used to inscribe his manuals was the real legacy he'd left behind.
'This secret was accidentally uncovered when the Blood Cult forcibly relocated the Beast Palace's main hall to their headquarters.'
After ascending as the new Beast Palace Lord, the Wolf Tribe Chief Meng Yong had set the main hall ablaze to erase all traces of Umun Gol.
In the process, the Thousand Oblique Sky Martial Arts manuals burned away—and Meng Yong lost his chance at fortune right before his eyes.
Seo-Woon knew this from the Blood Cult's reports he'd read in his past life.
Chuk Yeo-un's reasoning was simple:
'Only those who realize their ancestor's manuals are trash—and have the courage to burn them—are worthy of inheriting his true power.'
Splash!
Plop!
The black droplets now pierced Seo-Woon's body like razor-sharp needles.
An excruciating pain, as if countless needles were stabbing through his flesh, surged endlessly.
Yet Seo-Woon didn't reinforce his body with any energy.
This suffering was the process of inheriting Chuk Yeo-un's power.
'I must endure it all!'
Sploosh!
Drip!
Like ink seeping into skin, the divine liquid began tattooing itself onto Seo-Woon's body.