Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 162
>Chapter Title: Newcomer (4)
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Struggling to maintain his seriousness no matter what, Cheon Su-ryong barely steadied his breathing, assumed his stance, and aimed his spear.
At the same moment, the instructor's command rang out.
“Begin!”
Even though the Eighth Young Master hadn't assumed his stance at all and was still swaying in a dazed posture with his eyes unfocused.
A strange sense of incongruity washed over him, but Cheon Su-ryong decided to ignore it.
‘Don’t let your guard down!’
Right now, all he had to do was give it his all!
Collecting himself, Cheon Su-ryong carefully stepped forward with his footwork, closing in on Il-mok.
And the instant he entered spear-thrusting range.
Pop!!
Cheon Su-ryong thrust out his spear in the technique he had honed steadily over his short sixteen years of life.
If his father, who had taught him the spear, saw it, he would have chuckled and praised it as a truly clean strike.
But for some reason.
Even as he executed what felt like a perfect strike to him, paradoxically, Cheon Su-ryong felt a sense of unease.
‘Why hasn’t he moved yet?’
Like all demonic arts techniques, the strike he unleashed was a killing blow.
As the spear tip flew toward his heart, the Eighth Young Master gazed at it with an indifferent expression.
And the moment Cheon Su-ryong’s spear tip reached near Il-mok’s heart.
“!?”
The Eighth Young Master’s hand, which he hadn’t even seen move, was gripping the spear shaft.
But his surprise lasted only an instant.
This was precisely the situation spear wielders had to be most wary of—having their shaft grabbed.
He had been rigorously drilled on countermeasures for this exact scenario by his strict father.
So, he definitely knew them.
‘W-Why…?’
He tried every method he knew to push or deflect the hand gripping the shaft.
Thud.
Thud.
But the more he resisted, the more the Eighth Young Master stepped closer, one step at a time.
Still holding the spear shaft with one hand.
Every time he struggled to move the spear, the Eighth Young Master’s gripping hand moved in a mysterious way, nullifying Cheon Su-ryong’s strength.
It was as if he were sinking into a swamp, the distance between him and the Eighth Young Master closing inexorably. As if some special force dwelled in the spear connecting them.
By the time Il-mok finally entered arm’s reach, Cheon Su-ryong looked as if he had seen a ghost.
But a demonic cult’s later-generation disciple was indeed extraordinary.
“Haat!”
Even as his face paled, he swung one leg to smash the Eighth Young Master’s head.
But before Cheon Su-ryong’s leg could fully extend.
“Guh….”
Cheon Su-ryong collapsed to the ground amid pain like his innards were being torn apart.
As his internal energy churned violently, he lifted his head from the floor and saw the Eighth Young Master delivering a palm strike.
Cheon Su-ryong instinctively realized it. He hadn’t been able to follow it with his eyes, but that palm strike had smashed into his abdomen.
‘He anticipated my leg swing….’
It felt like he had been possessed by a ghost.
He hadn’t even seen the final strike, and the mysterious joint-locking technique before it was beyond his comprehension.
While Cheon Su-ryong knelt on the ground, replaying the spar solo in his mind.
“It’s over. Right?”
Il-mok’s indifferent voice shattered the silence hanging over the area.
Only then did the instructor declare the spar’s end, followed by Hall Leader Yeom Ga-hwi’s voice booming out.
“Cadet Il-mok.”
“Yes, Hall Leader.”
“Why didn’t you use your sword?”
As if everyone shared the same question, they all fell silent and stared at Il-mok.
The reason Il-mok hadn’t drawn his sword was the same as when facing the bandit group.
To avoid gaining enlightenment.
No matter how much lower the opponent’s level was, that damned Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword and his ridiculously talented body would figure out enlightenment on their own.
It was a hassle, and to avoid such cases, Il-mok had originally planned to surrender the moment the spar began.
The problem was.
‘No matter what, I can’t end up in the same category as Baek Cheon.’
Concerned by Jeong-hyeon’s words about him being a promising talent, he had no choice but to engage in the spar.
It was truly fortunate.
This opponent, like the bandits, was at a level where he didn’t even need to draw his sword.
On top of that, the previous incident gave him a perfect excuse.
“Because it was an opponent I didn’t even need to draw my sword against.”
“!!”
Reactions to Il-mok’s arrogant reply split sharply.
Some frowned at his arrogance, while others nodded as if it made sense for the Eighth Young Master.
Surprisingly, Hall Leader Yeom Ga-hwi was in the former group.
Nodding once, Yeom Ga-hwi stroked his beard and asked.
“Then let me ask something else. When did you train those joint-locking and palm techniques to such a level?”
This was what Hall Leader Yeom Ga-hwi had wanted to ask from the start.
They were too refined for a swordsman.
A level surpassing even his peers who specialized in joint-locking techniques.
It was a realm impossible to achieve in just a day or two.
But the response was unexpected.
“I haven’t trained them separately.”
“You haven’t trained them separately?”
As Hall Leader Yeom Ga-hwi kept repeating, Il-mok looked puzzled, as if it didn’t make sense.
“That’s right. They say all arts return to one, so I merely infused my sword insights and executed them with my hands.”
His tone implied, *Why are you asking something so obvious?*
This time, the expressions of those around unified.
Everyone stared at Il-mok as if he were a monster.
Amid the whirlwind of shock and awe, Il-mok wore a bemused expression.
It wasn’t because he couldn’t understand why they looked at him like a monster.
Nor because everyone staring made him feel like one of Baek Cheon’s kind.
Simply.
“…So, when do you plan to treat this guy?”
He was concerned about Cheon Su-ryong, who lay vomiting blood beside him.
* * *
An hour after the sparring session ended.
“Ugh.”
Cheon Su-ryong opened his eyes with a deep groan and faced an unfamiliar ceiling.
“Are you awake?”
Greeted by an equally unfamiliar voice.
“This is the Demonic Path Academy infirmary. You collapsed during your spar with Young Master Il-mok, Cadet Cheon Su-ryong.”
“Ah….”
Only then did the memory of just before passing out return, and Cheon Su-ryong let out a groan.
‘What a pathetic idiot I am….’
It wasn’t anger toward the Eighth Young Master who had toyed with him. It was fury at his own incompetence for missing the chance for enlightenment and fainting.
“Young Master Il-mok asked me to relay his apologies. He didn’t intend to inflict such severe internal injuries.”
At Physician Seo Jae-pil’s following words, Cheon Su-ryong snapped to attention and replied.
“It was a fair spar. It was my weakness. How could we blame the Young Master for it?”
Seo Jae-pil’s eyes gleamed with interest at Cheon Su-ryong’s response.
“Hmm. That’s somewhat true. While treating you, Cadet Cheon, no matter how I looked, your injuries resembled symptoms of demonic deviation more than damage from Young Master Il-mok’s attack.”
“As I thought….”
At Cheon Su-ryong’s quiet mutter, Seo Jae-pil’s eyes lit up.
“Judging by your reaction, you were already aware of it.”
“I had some inkling.”
“Could you tell me more about it in detail?”
Seo Jae-pil, asking this, had already prepared a fine brush and paper.
Uninterested in Seo Jae-pil’s actions, Cheon Su-ryong stared into space with a complex expression and opened his mouth.
“Actually, right after the spar ended, I’ve been obsessing over the same thought nonstop.”
“What thought? Could you share?”
“I was replaying the techniques the Young Master used in the spar. To review it. But… no matter how much I reviewed, I couldn’t comprehend it. Those mysterious techniques of the Young Master. Then, at some point, my mind suddenly grew hazy.”
“So, you fell into heart demon trying to understand Young Master Il-mok’s mysterious techniques?”
“…Yes.”
Cheon Su-ryong murmured bitterly.
“It was the moment I truly realized how incompetent I am. Especially since I heard he’s a swordsman, yet I couldn’t comprehend even his joint-locking techniques, let alone his swordsmanship.”
Instead of rash comfort, Seo Jae-pil nodded attentively, listening.
It was a counseling demeanor he had honed from Chief Physician Jeong Sim-won onward, dealing with countless patients.
And as a skilled physician, unlike his attentive posture, he was thinking something else inwardly.
‘Fortunately, it seems he didn’t hear Young Master Il-mok’s words.’
Right after Cheon Su-ryong was brought to the infirmary at the end of the sparring session, Seo Jae-pil had inquired about the events from Il-mok and those around. For accurate treatment and diagnosis.
Thanks to that, Seo Jae-pil knew. The arrogant words Il-mok had uttered.
- Because it was an opponent I didn’t even need to draw my sword against.
If this young man, moping so much over failing to understand a single joint-locking technique from Young Master Il-mok, had heard that, he might not have just vomited blood from heart demon—he could have spurted blood from all seven orifices and died on the spot.
‘Looks like he had already fallen into heart demon before those words, or was too focused on reviewing to hear.’
Like a skilled physician, Seo Jae-pil didn’t commit the mistake of writing down his thoughts.
It would be trouble if the patient saw him scribbling in front of them.
He just stored it in his mental cabinet, planning to record it after the young patient left.
While thinking such things, Seo Jae-pil smoothly changed the subject.
If he let the other keep digging into his hole, he might fall into heart demon again.
Seo Jae-pil poured pre-boiled water into a teacup and offered it to Cheon Su-ryong.
“It’s tea to calm the mind, but it’s still hot, so drink carefully.”
Taking the teacup, Cheon Su-ryong sipped it slowly.
While he focused on carefully drinking the hot tea, escaping his gloomy thoughts for a moment.
Physician Seo Jae-pil spoke calmly.
“Don’t take the heart demon too seriously. In conclusion, it came while reviewing the spar, but you were injured at the time, Cadet Cheon. Since you had internal injuries, it’s fair to say you fell into it more easily.”
He said it in a businesslike tone.
Those with strong pride don’t welcome pity. Thus, a ‘physician’s diagnosis’ often comforted more than words of solace.
“…That could be the case.”
Seeing the other somewhat accept his words, Seo Jae-pil continued.
“Likewise, your head was dizzy from the internal injuries, making it hard to comprehend Young Master Il-mok’s martial arts. There will be plenty of chances anyway, so you can observe them again later, right?”
“With my rank so different, will I get another chance to witness the Young Master’s martial arts?”
“Hahaha. Even if ranks differ and we don’t train together, there are ways to do so. There’s the club, isn’t there?”
“Ah!!”
As Cheon Su-ryong exclaimed in admiration and looked at Seo Jae-pil with eyes full of expectation, Seo Jae-pil grinned and said.
“The club Young Master Il-mok joined is called the Meditation Club.”
Cheon Su-ryong muttered the club’s mere five characters like a lifeline: “Meditation Club. Meditation Club.”
Watching him for a moment and deeming the patient’s condition improved, Seo Jae-pil got to the main point.
The reason Seo Jae-pil had so boldly sold out Young Master Il-mok.
“Hmm. Come to think of it, I forgot to ask this while treating you. Could you tell me about the demonic art you practice and its side effects?”
It was to add to his research subjects.