Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 176
>Chapter Title: Path Forward (1)
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Several months earlier.
While Il-mok was immersed solely in his training.
His fellow cadets were each overcoming the memories of that day in their own ways.
But not every cadet was resolving things smoothly.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult revered martial prowess above all, so fearing battle was simply unacceptable.
Most cadets were ignoring their terror, worsening their symptoms in the process.
And Seo Jae-pil, the physician tasked with a special mission by Il-mok, was working to save them.
“You don’t need to force yourself to ignore the fear. Being unable to feel fear is merely ignorance. True courage lies in facing it head-on, knowing full well how frightening it is, don’t you think?”
He gave those who had been turning away from their fear the courage to confront their emotions.
But naturally, a few words couldn’t make every cadet snap out of it and conquer those memories.
“There seem to be several cadets whose conditions are more serious than expected, Young Master.”
“Sigh. Mine’s pretty damn bad too.”
Il-mok, still in the thick of his frequent seizures, let out a deep sigh and vented.
“This mangy mutt keeps throwing tantrums in my head.”
In truth, Il-mok had a few reasons for enduring the constant seizures.
The rage building up from being tormented by these dogshit side effects. The hope that they’d weaken once this phase passed. The babysitter—er, Branch Leader Yeom Ga-hwi—who showed up every time to save him.
And finally, regularly coming to Seo Jae-pil like this to unload his complaints.
It was a universal truth: spilling your anger or gloom to someone often eased the burden a bit.
Sure, you could blab carelessly and end up with annoying gossip, but Seo Jae-pil was as safe as a psychiatrist.
“This lunatic can’t even tell a sword from chopsticks anymore. I just tried to pick up some meat with chopsticks, and suddenly it unfolded the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword and started hacking the meat to shreds!”
Calling his other self a “lunatic” wasn’t much different from calling himself one.
But Seo Jae-pil didn’t point that out.
“I’ll hack it to pieces with the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.”
He didn’t comment on how insane it sounded to vow to butcher himself—or how bizarre it was to kill the sword’s ego with the sword itself.
He simply noted on his paper that the Young Master had been struggling lately. For future research.
And once Il-mok’s endless-seeming venting wrapped up.
“What should we do about these pitiful cadets?”
He returned to the question he actually wanted answered.
He knew Il-mok just needed to vent, not real solutions.
No, distracting him worked better.
To Seo Jae-pil’s question, Il-mok replied indifferently.
“They’re all cult followers anyway, right? Using their faith might help.”
It sounded irreverent, but Seo Jae-pil decided to hear him out.
“Using their faith—how exactly?”
“Tell them to confess their sins to the Master. From a follower’s perspective, the Master is no different from a god. Confessing and receiving forgiveness should lighten their hearts, no?”
It was a common tale.
People turning to gods in desperate times.
Athletes, celebrities, students, entrepreneurs—who among those who overcame hardship hadn’t found faith?
If it fueled them through tough times, didn’t religion have value?
That’s what Il-mok had thought.
Before joining this insane cult.
And Seo Jae-pil, a cult follower mad for medicine, opened his mouth with a troubled expression.
“Uh... Isn’t invoking His Supremacy for something so personal deeply irreverent?”
Mad for medicine or not, he was a Heavenly Demon Divine Cult follower.
The thought of using the Heavenly Demon’s name for his treatments hadn’t even crossed his mind.
But Il-mok was different.
“Have you forgotten how compassionate the Master is? If these young cadets are mentally at their limit, the Master will embrace them with his boundless mercy. It’s not using his name selfishly at all.”
“Ah...”
As Seo Jae-pil’s face lit up with realization, Il-mok added more.
“Plus, overcoming their fear through the Master’s grace will deepen their faith. Freed from heart demons, their skills will soar, reborn as the cult’s devoted warriors. What reason would the Master have to be displeased?”
Seo Jae-pil, deeply moved, scribbled furiously on his paper.
Finishing his medical-religious epiphany, he looked up and said.
“Then, Young Master, do you confess nightly to His Supremacy?”
“What kinda dogshit—sorry, the demon art flared up. What kinda nonsense is that?”
“You said prayer brings peace. With your recent outbursts being daily, I thought you might be doing the same.”
Il-mok forced his lips into a smile.
“Of course I am.”
He hadn’t confessed to the Master once—hell, he cursed him inwardly every other day.
His diary was packed with Heavenly Demon curses.
It was only natural.
‘Fuck. Why the hell teach me this trash demon art?’
- Seize the author’s brush!
- Show me that perfect sword once more!!
Even now, the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword was raging in his head.
* * *
The next day.
Seo Jae-pil smiled gently at a cadet he’d been counseling for months.
“Tonight, before sleep, clasp your hands and confess to the Heavenly Demon. You are both a fragile being under his care and a future warrior for the cult. The compassionate Heavenly Demon will hear your confession, forgive your sins, and with his supreme grace, rebirth you as a devoted warrior.”
Following Il-mok’s advice, he’d eagerly pimped out the Heavenly Demon.
Not just to one, but to all with similar symptoms.
And the results exceeded expectations.
Days after the cadets began praying to the Heavenly Demon per his advice.
“Ahh. So that’s how it is.”
“Fear is natural for mere humans like us.”
“But with His Supremacy...”
“He embraces all our fears and negativity.”
Having gained their own insights, the cadets recited prayers starting with “Heavenly Demon Descends, All Demons Prostrate!” whenever dark thoughts arose, seeking the Heavenly Demon.
Whenever Il-mok spotted such fellow cadets during training, a thought crossed his mind.
‘...Their eyes look just like those fanatic bastards from before.’
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was breeding excellent zealots.
Thanks to his advice.
* * *
As Il-mok’s seizures gradually lessened.
Most of his fellow cadets began escaping that day’s nightmare.
With their mental scars slowly healing and strength to move forward emerging, they envisioned their futures in their own ways.
Some, like Dokgo Pae, reviewed that day’s battle to refine their arts. Others, like Gwak Sul or Jeong Hyeon, sought their own paths.
Of course, some like Joo Seo-yeon felt nothing special.
And one cadet attempted a frontal breakthrough in a completely different way.
Just as everyone was finally shaking off those wounds, she visited each cadet with a “certain proposal.”
It was absurd, drawing negative reactions from many.
“Ohoho. Just trust and follow me.”
“No need to fear. All eyes will be on me anyway, thanks to my stunning looks and acting.”
Her head left no room for rejection.
She eventually persuaded—or dragged—every fellow cadet except Il-mok into it.
Then she moved to the next phase.
With only nineteen fellow cadets, it felt lacking.
She convinced instructors and even half-forced juniors into it.
The work progressed smoothly, time flying by.
Days after Il-mok took a step beyond Extreme Demon.
On the Demonic Path Academy graduation day.
“You who will shoulder our cult’s future, I sincerely congratulate you as the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons for graduating the Demonic Path Academy unscathed.”
“Take pride in the countless trials and tribulations you’ve endured these past two years. This year was especially turbulent, so I, your Academy Lord, am immensely proud of those who overcame it all.”
The Heavenly Demon and Academy Lord, true to boomer form, droned on with speeches similar yet subtly different from last time.
Il-mok thought his barely conquered heart demon might return amid the boredom.
- Slash their throats with your sword now! You can unleash that perfect blade!
‘Shut up, lunatic. That won’t work on them.’
Thanks to his dedicated training, Il-mok easily resisted the other self’s temptation.
- Ahem. Let’s build more strength and challenge them later.
Or maybe it just tucked tail, scared of the Heavenly Demon.
And after the speeches ended.
Il-mok witnessed with his own eyes a madwoman’s plan he’d known nothing about.
“This year’s graduation performance will be a joint production by all clubs.”
Il-mok, who’d lived for training alone, was merely puzzled at Instructor Chu Il-hwan’s shout.
‘Joint performance? Was there such a thing?’
Soon, his puzzled face twisted in horror.
In the center of the vast training ground.
The nineteen fellow cadets moved into formation.
Moments later, a familiar roar hit Il-mok as junior cadets ambushed them.
“Allahu Akbar!!!”
Hearing it, Il-mok realized what this joint performance was.
Bang Mi-hwa’s play was a reenactment of that day’s battle.
Juniors, instructors, and assistants played the fanatics.
“Haat!”
The ambushed cadets portrayed their past selves.
Except one.
“Cadet Gwak Sul! Keep giving orders!”
The protagonist playing Il-mok’s role—Bang Mi-hwa herself.