Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 153
>Chapter Title: Practice (3)
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When Il-mok and his classmates were stepping out of the Demonic Path Academy for their practical training.
In one corner of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's main headquarters stood a massive hall. A plaque reading [Eight Trigrams Hall] hung there, and in its deepest chamber, a middle-aged man and a young man were holding a meeting.
“You’ve worked hard. True Formation Branch Leader.”
“It’s all thanks to you, Hall Leader.”
True Formation Branch Leader An Jeok-un replied with an impassive expression to Eight Trigrams Hall Leader An Hyeo-gyun’s praise.
The response was quite rude regardless of his expression, but An Hyeo-gyun didn’t seem to mind.
They hailed from the same An family clan, and to Hall Leader An Hyeo-gyun, An Jeok-un was his nephew.
“Hahaha. Didn’t I tell you when I sent you to the Demonic Path Academy? If you don’t fix that temperament of yours, you’ll end up in serious trouble someday.”
Even at his uncle’s teasing advice, An Jeok-un remained impassive.
“I felt it to my bones while acting as instructor there this time.”
“Hoo.”
An Hyeo-gyun’s eyes lit up, thinking his advice had finally gotten through, but a sigh escaped at his nephew’s next words.
“It confirmed that you shouldn’t associate with idiots.”
“Sigh. It’s not pleasant to say this, but while the Supreme One and a few warriors can communicate with us, most in the Cult can’t hold a proper conversation. They’re all suffering from side effects, aren’t they?”
“If I don’t run into them, there’s no need to talk, is there?”
“How do you plan to avoid warriors when you’re the one bearing the expectations of the Eight Trigrams Hall and our clan? Whether you take my position in the future or become the clan head. Either way, you’ll have to deal with them as a representative.”
“I have no interest in being Eight Trigrams Hall Leader or clan head. Researching spells and formations is fulfillment enough for me.”
An Hyeo-gyun sighed inwardly at his nephew’s innocent words.
His nephew had taken the True Formation Branch Leader position at just shy of thirty thanks to his exceptional talent, but the problem was that he’d devoted his life solely to research and training.
He was utterly clueless about the ways of the world.
That was exactly why he’d sent him to the Demonic Path Academy to deal with the relatively manageable young warriors.
‘I’ll have to discuss this with the clan head later.’
It was unacceptable for An Jeok-un to spend his life holed up in a room researching and training.
If that was the life he wanted, he should have refused all the support from the clan and the Eight Trigrams Hall from the start.
They’d supported him materially and otherwise for his growth, so him going his own way now was out of the question.
But debating it here wouldn’t yield any solutions.
An Hyeo-gyun first tried to lighten the mood by changing the subject.
“So, during your time at the Demonic Path Academy, all you saw were pitiful fools?”
Only then did a subtle change appear on An Jeok-un’s face at the question.
“Two of them. I found some somewhat usable kids.”
“Hoo. Two, huh. What kind were they?”
“One was a government student named Gwak Sul. His qi sense was average, but his head turns pretty well. I don’t know about spells, but he seemed quite interested in formations and mechanisms. And above all, he looked useful.”
“Useful?”
When An Hyeo-gyun asked with a puzzled look, An Jeok-un explained.
“Seeing him hang around with the eldest son of the Dokgo family, he seems to know how to handle idiots. When we get tangled with warriors over Eight Trigrams Hall or clan matters, we could use that government student as a sort of interpreter.”
“Hoo.”
An Hyeo-gyun showed an intrigued expression.
‘He didn’t just loaf around thoughtlessly at the Demonic Path Academy.’
He was already thinking ahead to finding a subordinate to attend him when he rose higher.
“So, the other one was the same type?”
An Jeok-un shook his head at the question.
“The other one is probably someone you know too, Hall Leader.”
From that, An Hyeo-gyun easily guessed who he meant.
“You mean the Eighth Young Master?”
“That’s right.”
“Hmm. I’m quite curious what about him caught your interest.”
“The Eighth Young Master’s qi sense was at a level where calling him a genius would be underselling it.”
“If you call him a genius, there’s no room for doubt.”
“And his intellect gave a subtle impression. Compared to his reputation, he didn’t strike me as a genius. Considering his age, maybe a prodigy at best.”
An Hyeo-gyun tilted his head at the evaluation.
‘The kid who’s brought so much change to the Divine Cult has, at best, the brains of a prodigy?’
It felt contradictory somewhere, but he decided to hear the rest first.
The intellect needed for formations and spells was subtly different from that for efficiently handling tasks.
“So, his outstanding qi sense drew your interest?”
“That’s what first caught my eye, but there’s a bigger reason.”
“A bigger reason?”
“The Eighth Young Master was interested in spells and formations. Quite intensely.”
“!!!”
While An Hyeo-gyun reacted with surprise, An Jeok-un calmly recounted what had happened with the Eighth Young Master.
How he’d shown enthusiasm in formation lessons, and how An Jeok-un, recognizing his talent, had met with Il-mok.
From his passionate demeanor at the start of the meeting to Il-mok’s final words.
After hearing it all, An Hyeo-gyun wore a strange expression.
“As the disciple of a senior figure, completing the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword comes first… It’s a valid point, but it could also be a polite way to decline your offer, no?”
“I thought so at first, but I’ve changed my mind.”
With that, An Jeok-un added in a tone full of conviction.
“The Eighth Young Master definitely wants to join our Eight Trigrams Hall. Why else would he come to me asking to be taught spells?”
“So, did you teach him spells?”
“Yes.”
An Jeok-un nodded and added a curious afterword.
“I don’t know why he insisted on learning just that one spell.”
* * *
“Hoo.”
Il-mok took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on his qi sense.
The single spell he’d learned by bluffing the visiting instructor An Jeok-un during his brief stint at the Demonic Path Academy.
But with only about half a month left, he hadn’t reached a level of free mastery.
So he closed his eyes to block out vision. He further concentrated on his qi sense, letting other senses fade away.
And when he fully immersed himself in qi sense, feeling every subtle flow of qi around him.
Paht!
Il-mok’s hand moved slowly, forming hand seals.
‘The hand movements are merely a means to clearly trace the flow.’
Il-mok recalled An Jeok-un’s advice. Ultimately, what mattered was the qi leaving his hands communicating with the world’s qi.
Following that, the qi flowing from Il-mok’s hands began interfering with the surrounding qi flows.
Paht!
With each successive hand seal, the surrounding qi flows warped to his will several times.
Gradually, the ambient energy gathered toward Il-mok at the center, and when the flow peaked.
Paht!
With the final hand seal, the spell completed.
The one spell Il-mok had learned by acting like he desperately wanted to join the Eight Trigrams Hall.
And at the same time.
Jjeureureuk.
A displeasing sound rang out as a stream of water formed before his hand, flowing into the small bucket he’d prepared in advance.
The spell called Dew Condensation, the most basic technique for handling water qi. True to its name, it gathered moisture from the air and converted it to water.
Gazing at the water accumulating in the bucket, Il-mok lightly furrowed his brow.
Not because the spell seemed too crude.
‘Damn. As expected, it’s drier compared to the Heavenly Myriad Mountains? Not enough water qi.’
It was simply that the amount of water in the bucket was disappointing.
Meanwhile, the expressions of the Demonic Path Academy students and White Claw Unit members who had gathered to watch Il-mok cast the spell were variously odd.
The famous Eighth Young Master using not martial arts but a spell—they’d all harbored great expectations.
‘J-just that much?’
While most were disappointed with the result, a few thought differently.
“Ahem. Eighth Young Master. No, Student Il-mok. What’s the intent behind that spell?”
If it was the famous Eighth Young Master, there had to be some purpose.
The White Claw Unit member who stepped forward as representative asked, and the onlookers nodded with ‘Of course!’ expressions.
And as they expected, Il-mok did have a purpose.
“Water for bathing.”
It was to resolve his hygiene obsession.
At Il-mok’s utterly matter-of-fact answer, the questioning White Claw Unit member asked back with a dumbfounded look.
“For bathing?”
“Yes.”
“…You’ll get dirty anyway from camping out, and we’ll be running again early tomorrow morning and getting dirty, so why bother?”
To his question, Il-mok replied with a look of why-are-you-asking-something-so-obvious.
“Then why do you seniors bother eating meals that’ll just be digested and gone anyway?”
Il-mok had phrased it politely, calling them seniors.
‘Why bother living if you’re gonna die anyway? Why not just slit your throat?’
His true feelings were closer to that.
Finishing the pointless exchange with the White Claw Unit member, Il-mok turned and walked toward somewhere.
“W-where are you going?”
Someone hurriedly shouted as Il-mok suddenly left the group and headed to a remote spot alone.
“I need to bathe, but I can’t strip here, can I?”
The response was, as expected, utterly nonchalant.
It was unavoidable. After running all day, his hygiene obsession had already hit its limit.
In fact, the preparations Il-mok had made for his hygiene obsession weren’t limited to this one spell.
Naturally, his gourd held disinfectant alcohol for emergencies, plus stone wipes, spare clothes, and even cotton fabric to cover himself while sleeping.
‘The Divine Steel Wastelands are that place with the yellow dust, right? Sandstorms.’
It was a face covering for sandstorms.
They say knowing is seeing.
Usually a positive expression, but for Il-mok, it carried a different meaning.
‘If it weren’t for this damn Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.’
For Il-mok, who retained modern basic knowledge, the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword was the worst possible match.
How severe could hygiene obsession get for someone of this era practicing it?
But for Il-mok, who knew about sandstorms and germs, it was a outright disaster.
‘Getting squeezed by Master or Eldest Senior Brother is exhausting enough. Damn it.’
On top of that, whenever Master or Eldest Senior Brother asked anything, he kept systematizing answers based on modern knowledge.
His frustration with his own plight naturally morphed into irritation at the ignorant masses.
‘Tsk. Filthy things. How can they just sleep in that state?’
A light click of Il-mok’s tongue echoed.
Whoosh.
An awkward silence instantly descended on the White Claw Unit’s campsite.
Watching Il-mok’s back disappear into the darkness lit only faintly by moonlight, the White Claw Unit members shared similar thoughts.
‘…Is that really the Eighth Young Master?’
‘…No matter how I look at it, he’s just a crazy bastard?’
* * *
“Hmm. Dew Condensation spell…”
Having heard the name of the spell Il-mok learned from An Jeok-un, An Hyeo-gyun stroked his chin a few times before asking.
“Isn’t that a spell even ten-year-olds in our clan can perform?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. To spend half a month on such a basic spell…”
As An Hyeo-gyun muttered in a pitiful tone, An Jeok-un spoke up.
“It only took a day to understand the spell.”
“Hoo. That’s not slow compared to our clan kids. Hmm. Well, considering his age, it’s subtly as you said. A prodigy level. But then why did the Eighth Young Master spend half a month on it?”
An Jeok-un replied with a subtle expression.
“It’s hard to put precisely. To raise completion or increase the scale, perhaps…”
“Completion? Scale?”
“To put it simply, on the final day of those half months, the Eighth Young Master filled an entire jar with Dew Condensation.”
“An entire jar… Wait! Did you say he filled an entire jar?”
“Yes.”
“…I definitely taught the Eighth Young Master the Dew Condensation spell, right?”
“Yes.”
“…….”
Dew Condensation was, as the name implied, a spell for forming dew.
Not one that poured water like a waterfall to fill a jar.
Silence hung between the flustered An Hyeo-gyun and the deadpan An Jeok-un for a moment.
An Jeok-un spoke first.
“That’s why I told you. When it comes to handling qi, he’s a genius.”
“Ha. Haha. What an absurd tale. Wait! Didn’t you say the Eighth Young Master was interested in formations and spells?”
“You keep repeating what I said, so it seems it’s time for you to retire, Hall Leader.”
Even at his polite nephew’s roundabout way of asking if he had dementia, An Hyeo-gyun just laughed heartily.
“Hahaha! If talent like that rolls into the Eight Trigrams Hall, all sorts of fun things will happen!”
“It’ll be a huge help to my research too, Hall Leader.”
Neither had any idea of giving rice cakes, yet the two laughed imagining Il-mok coming to the Eight Trigrams Hall on his own.