Chapter 281
Chapter 281
-----------------------------------------------------------------
>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 281
>Chapter Title: Homecoming in Glory (3)
>-----------------------------------------------------------------
Indeed, what troublesome task would Master assign this time.
While such worries crossed his mind and Il-mok swallowed hard.
The Heavenly Demon opened the conversation with an utterly unexpected topic.
“Hahaha. I couldn’t speak of it with others present, but you’ve grown beyond recognition in just a year. Well, did your experiences in the Central Plains prove greatly helpful?”
“My time in the Central Plains was invaluable, but is it not all thanks to Master’s teachings?”
The Heavenly Demon let out a hearty laugh at Il-mok’s habitual flattery.
“Hahaha. The same teachings given to all, yet it falls to the disciple to awaken to them in a way suited to themselves.”
“You praise me too highly.”
As Il-mok bowed deeply in respect, the Heavenly Demon gazed fondly at him for a moment before asking again.
“Over the past year, you’ve endured many trials and encountered no small number of the Central Plains’ unbelievers. What are your thoughts on them?”
He smiled gently, yet the Heavenly Demon’s eyes gleamed clear and serene, as if piercing through all things.
Il-mok briefly considered a response sure to please a cult leader, but soon wove in a touch of sincerity.
“It overflowed with villains and hypocrites, yet there were those with whom words could find purchase.”
The Beggars’ Sect served as prime example, as did that woman from the Huangbo family—Huangbo Yeon—someone with whom at least some discourse proved possible.
Their methods differed, but they shed no false piety and pursued a justice all their own.
From the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s stance, which regarded the Central Plains’ righteous factions as irreconcilable foes, it might prove an unwelcome assessment.
“Hahaha.”
The Heavenly Demon merely unleashed a laugh of inscrutable intent.
“Youngest.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you know why this old man has refrained from pursuing our Divine Cult’s long-cherished dream of returning to the Central Plains?”
“…Out of concern for the cult members who would spill their blood in war, no doubt.”
The Heavenly Demon nodded once at Il-mok’s reply before speaking.
“That holds true as well, yet our Divine Cult’s devout followers know no fear of death.”
“…….”
He could not bring himself to disagree.
Should his master raise the banner of reclaiming the Central Plains and command invasion, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s zealots would charge forth as if blessed with spare lives.
Much like those fanatics of Allah he had witnessed during his days at the Demonic Path Academy.
“Even so, this old man restrains himself because victory lies beyond our grasp.”
“…Even with you present, Master?”
Il-mok’s incredulous tone prompted a faint smile from the Heavenly Demon.
“Did you not recently cross blades with the Martial Alliance Leader? And surely you’ve heard tell of the Twelve Heavenly Pillars.”
Twelve Heavenly Pillars.
The moniker for the twelve absolute masters who had attained the Profound Realm—towering pillars upholding the heavens of the Central Plains.
Called by titles such as King or Emperor or Immortal, among them stood the Martial Alliance Leader—world’s foremost swordsman and Blade Emperor—and the Beggars’ Sect Leader, dubbed the Beggar King.
The Martial Alliance Leader ranked among the top five even within those Twelve Heavenly Pillars.
“Though this immature disciple could not overtake the Martial Alliance Leader, the gulf between myself and the Leader pales beside that separating you from him, Master.”
No matter how he pondered it, neither the Martial Alliance Leader nor the Twelve Heavenly Pillars could match the Heavenly Demon.
Unless, perhaps, the Twelve Heavenly Pillars assailed him in unison.
‘They are no idlers either.’
The Demonic Cult boasted its own tally of nearly ten Profound Realm masters, rendering the Heavenly Demon’s speak of ‘inevitable defeat’ nonsensical when weighing sheer numbers and caliber of absolute experts.
The true shortfall lay elsewhere: among warriors short of absolute mastery and those deemed ‘experts’ at peak or super-peak levels.
Combined, the Central Plains’ martial artists commanded numbers incomparable to even the full might of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s followers.
As if peering into Il-mok’s very thoughts, the Heavenly Demon nodded and replied.
“As you surmise, this old man frets not over those Twelve Heavenly Pillars. Surely you’ve heard it said that the jianghu teems with eccentrics as numerous as grains of sand.”
“…You mean to account for unforeseen variables?”
“Unforeseen variables…. The failed bids of our forebears to reclaim the Central Plains render this no mere idle anxiety.”
With those words, the Heavenly Demon posed yet another unforeseen query to Il-mok.
“Youngest.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you recall our first encounter?”
How could he forget the blade held to his throat, the demand to become his disciple?
“Y-Yes, I remember it well.”
“This old man claimed then that business in the Central Plains had led him to pass by and chance upon that inn. Do you recall?”
“Yes, I do.”
“In truth, this old man journeyed to Wudang Mountain to bid final farewell to a longtime rival whose heavenly mandate had run its course.”
A flicker of disquiet stirred in Il-mok at the Heavenly Demon’s account.
“Wudang Mountain… does that mean your rival was a Taoist of the Wudang Sect?”
“Hahaha. Just so. A snub-nosed Taoist worthy of the name rival.”
Only then did Il-mok grasp why the Heavenly Demon had worn that peculiar smile at his initial response.
His master—like himself—did not deem the Central Plains folk absolute enemies deserving slaughter without quarter.
And in the wake of that realization, Il-mok divined a startling truth from the Heavenly Demon’s words.
“A rival… then that old comrade matched even you in prowess, Master?”
The Heavenly Demon’s hearty laugh answered Il-mok’s startled query.
“Hahaha. Perish the thought. From our first clash, that snub-nosed Taoist and I traded blows dozens of times, yet I emerged undefeated. Still, he proved an opponent whose exchanges held genuine delight.”
No true equal, then, but perhaps two or three moves his inferior.
As if to affirm Il-mok’s conjecture, the Heavenly Demon continued.
“Even two at the level of that snub-nosed Taoist would demand no small time of this old man to claim victory, while three would render outcome uncertain.”
“Then you anticipate at least two such masters lurking unseen in the jianghu, Master?”
The Heavenly Demon shook his head at Il-mok’s question.
“That much, even this old man cannot affirm. Yet one truth stands certain: there exist those who shun hollow renown like that snub-nosed Taoist’s to immerse solely in the pursuit of martial truth and the Way amid remote peaks and hidden vales. And it is precisely such figures our Divine Cult must regard with utmost caution.”
“Disciple shall engrave your teachings upon his heart, Master.”
The Heavenly Demon nodded, well pleased, as Il-mok formed the fist-palm salute and bowed low.
His gaze held wonder at when the boy had grown so tall.
He issued this admonition now because Il-mok had attained sufficient growth.
To one fresh to the mountain path, unable even to crest the local hill, displaying珠穆朗瑪—Everest itself—would shatter resolve or invite calamity through reckless strain.
Yet his youngest disciple had advanced to a stage where vast peaks inspired neither cower nor overreach.
Delighted by this progress, perhaps, the softly smiling Heavenly Demon rose from his throne and declared.
“Come, let us test just how far our youngest has come this past year with a long-overdue exchange of blades.”
He turned then, striding toward the training ground reserved solely for the Heavenly Demon beyond the Heavenly Demon Hall.
Il-mok trailed his master to the training ground, where the Heavenly Demon regarded him with unguarded poise and bade.
“Attack at will.”
No sooner had the words left him than Il-mok lunged without pause, sword sweeping toward his master.
Defenseless in appearance though he seemed, Il-mok knew full effort alone might graze a single hair.
He poured forth his hard-won insights through the blade, akin to a grandchild frolicking for grandparents’ delight on festival day.
“Hmm. A sword bearing an unholy aura.”
The Heavenly Demon parried the onslaught, brow furrowing faintly as he eyed the Soaring Heaven Sword clasped in Il-mok’s grip.
Yet as one of the Demonic Cult, he offered no sanctimonious counsel to discard it.
“Mind that this unholy aura does not devour you.”
“I shall heed it well, Master.”
Even as he replied to the Heavenly Demon’s counsel, Il-mok shed the forms of Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword to assail him along manifold sword paths.
“Hahaha.”
The Heavenly Demon evaded with stroll-like leisure, or
Clang!
Lightly deflected with the Heavenly Demon Sword abruptly drawn.
Sensing swordplay alone yielded naught, Il-mok introduced variation.
Screeeeech.
Sword qi coalesced upon Il-mok’s Soaring Heaven Sword splintered into dozens of threads, blanketing the Heavenly Demon from every quarter.
Heaven Net Sword it was.
“Hoh. A fascinating art.”
Evidently, the Heavenly Demon found his grandchild-like youngest’s display most diverting.
Thenceforth, time and again: Heaven Net Sword to claim terrain, footwork to seal retreat, qi-clad Soaring Heaven Sword to press.
Clang!
Once more the Heavenly Demon foiled a thrust with ease, whereupon Il-mok fell back ten paces to steady his breath.
“Witnessed firsthand, your growth proves profound indeed.”
“I yet fall short of your heels, Master—my shame alone.”
“Hahaha. Your face betrays a hidden card in reserve. Surely not withheld from fear of harming this old man.”
“Absurdity itself. ’Twas a method this disciple cannot yet wield flawlessly, hence restrained.”
“A method beyond even your perfect mastery? Curiosity mounts. This old man shall bear what follows—unleash it.”
Il-mok pondered but an instant at the Heavenly Demon’s urging before saluting with fist and palm.
“Then behold this disciple’s paltry skill.”
With such an overwhelming master observing, he deemed it ideal practice.
“Whew.”
Breath regulated, Il-mok summoned the remnant demonic qi from his dantian and wrenched it into turmoil.
Coarse now, it rampaged through limbs and meridians, subtle throbs of pain blooming at myriad acupoints.
On the cusp of berserk frenzy from its wild-steed savagery, the qi strained to its brink and surged into the Soaring Heaven Sword.
Crackle-crackle.
In that instant gray sword lightning kindled upon the Soaring Heaven Sword.
Flash!
Il-mok erupted in full lightness skill, plunging toward the Heavenly Demon to thrust the Soaring Heaven Sword at thunderbolt pace.
“Hoh.”
The Heavenly Demon, exclaiming at the sword lightning’s intrigue, countered with a sweep of his Heavenly Demon Sword.
Boom!!!
Swords met in cataclysmic crash. Sword lightning detonated amid deafening roar, hurling myriad qi shards toward the Heavenly Demon.
Thereupon, the once-leisurely laughing Heavenly Demon donned grave countenance for the first time.
Ruuuush.
From the body of he who resembled some rustic elder poured a horrific aura.
That colossal demonic qi billowed from the Heavenly Demon, forging protective qi in heartbeat’s span to clash with the Soaring Heaven Sword’s qi shards—explosions resounding without cease.
Qi shards ravaged the training ground to wasteland, sand and dust billowing in all directions.
Yet black gale soon howled, scouring the grit away in moments.
There stood the Heavenly Demon, utterly unscathed, gazing upon Il-mok with deep concern.
“No grave internal wounds, I trust?”
Blood trickled from Il-mok’s lips.
“Naught serious.”
The Heavenly Demon nodded at his reply and commanded.
“First, circulate qi to mend your internals. We shall discuss your realm thereafter.”
“I obey, Master.”
Saluting with fist and palm, Il-mok assumed lotus position and entered qi circulation.
A spell to quell the yet-roiling demonic qi of Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.
Emergency measures thus concluded, Il-mok opened his eyes to find the Heavenly Demon—Heavenly Demon Sword resheathed—stroking his beard while peering down.
Unlike his usual affable mirth, complexity shadowed his visage.
“A peculiar affair, truly.”
Il-mok’s puzzled look met the Heavenly Demon’s brief rumination.
As though pondering the most precise phrasing.
“Hmm. To this old man’s eye, Il-mok, your realm diverges subtly from the norm.”
“In what manner?”
“Sword and qi arts have verily attained Transcending Demon… yet your qi trails not your intent.”