Chapter 318
Chapter 318
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 318
>Chapter Title: Lust (2)
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In response to Il-mok's question, the Heavenly Demon smiled faintly and replied.
“Hehehe. It seems you haven’t heard about the doctrines of Potala Palace and the Western Esoteric Buddhism.”
He stroked his beard as if pondering how to explain, then gave a brief overview.
“Though the Western Esoteric Buddhism stems from Buddhism, it follows doctrines entirely different from those of the Central Plains. It appears influenced by Hinduism from the West, a religion distinct from Islam.”
“…I’ve heard of Hinduism. Isn’t that the one that reveres cows as sacred?”
At Il-mok’s fragmented knowledge, the Heavenly Demon chuckled endearingly.
“It has many doctrines beyond that, and it worships countless gods. With so many deities, interpretations of the teachings vary widely. Among them, the concept of Shakti merged with Buddhism to create Tantra. I understand the Western Esoteric Buddhism follows Tantric doctrines.”
“What is Shakti that monks would practice yin absorption tonic arts?”
“Hehehe. From what this old man knows, it’s the concept of feminine creative power. Some ancient texts even translate it as sexual energy.”
“…So, they revere feminine creative power and thus affirm sexual acts? Even as Buddhists?”
“Indeed. They view dual cultivation as a form of training, which is why yin absorption tonic arts and bedroom techniques have greatly developed.”
The more they talked, the more Il-mok felt his common sense crumbling.
‘…No matter how I hear it, it sounds like a cult.’
It might be a narrow view, but that’s how it felt to him.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult he’d been rolling around in for years was a cult in his eyes too, which only amplified the feeling.
As he pondered cults, a sudden sense of injustice welled up in Il-mok.
‘…We’re both cults, but the difference is too vast.’
While his cult taught bizarre demonic arts that drove people insane, the neighboring cult taught bedroom arts and yin absorption tonic arts?
And if they practiced such martial arts as a form of training…
‘That means they did practical training too!?’
The feeling of injustice slowly turned to anger.
‘Because of these enviable—no, these damn bastards, I can’t rest and have to work again!!’
* * *
Il-mok, tasked with spreading the Maitreya Bright Cult in the Western Regions, left Heavenly Demon Hall for Wind Rock Hall to prepare.
“I’ll rest for about two days, then head to the Western Regions.”
At Wind Rock Hall, he briefly informed the waiting women of their mission.
He skipped the details about Potala Palace and Western Esoteric Buddhism doctrines.
It was too embarrassing to share with them.
That evening, a guest arrived at Heavenly Demon Hall.
“Hyeok-ryeon Family Head Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang pays respects to the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons.”
“Come in, Hyeok-ryeon Family Head.”
Hyeok-ryeon Il-hwi greeted his grandnephew-like visitor with a faint smile.
Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang disliked pointless small talk, so he cut straight to the purpose of his visit.
“I’ve heard the news. You plan to send the youngest young master to the Western Regions?”
“Indeed.”
“Then I shall accompany him on this journey.”
At Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang’s words, the Heavenly Demon burst into hearty laughter.
“Hehehehe. Isn’t your love for your granddaughter a bit excessive? You’re hardly one to scold the young lady’s father.”
Compared to his notoriously doting son, Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang cleared his throat lightly and replied.
“Ahem. With everyone in the Divine Cult so busy, there won’t be enough manpower to assign to the youngest young master, will there? The Baek family head and Gu Yang family head are already leading organizations, so I thought it was time I lent a hand.”
After offering what sounded like an excuse, Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang bowed his head slightly under the Heavenly Demon’s gaze and added,
“Moreover, wouldn’t it be good to observe up close the caliber of the one my granddaughter has chosen to serve as her lord?”
“Hehehe. If that’s your intent, so be it.”
“I thank you for granting my request.”
Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang bowed once more and cautiously exited Heavenly Demon Hall.
Instead of returning straight to his family estate, he paused, turned, and gazed back at the hall.
‘…Time’s power cannot be stopped by anything, they say.’
He had said he wanted to assess the vessel of the one his granddaughter served as lord.
But there was a deeper motive.
‘It’s time to prepare for the next era.’
For the stability of the Divine Cult, he needed to determine who was most fitting as the next cult leader.
Even if it meant ascending to the position himself.
* * *
Two days later.
Il-mok set out from the main mountain headquarters with his group.
Along with some peculiar companions.
‘Why is that old man tagging along?’
Il-mok hadn’t anticipated Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang’s company at all.
From their first meeting, their rapport had been awkward, making even brief conversations uncomfortable.
To share an indefinite journey with such an old man—and over a dozen Hyeok-ryeon family warriors besides. On top of that, Hyeok-ryeon Seon-a, the source of the discord, was there too, making it all the more stifling.
“Brother. Aren’t you thirsty?”
To Hyeok-ryeon Seon-a, who kept chattering at his side, Il-mok replied,
“Ahem. I’m fine. Why not chat with the family head? You haven’t seen him in two years since returning from the Demonic Path Academy.”
“I already paid my morning respects, so it’s fine.”
*I’m not fine.*
The words nearly burst from his throat.
At that moment, a voice from behind made Il-mok flinch and turn.
“Don’t mind this family head. This old man is merely following the lord’s orders, accompanying for any eventualities. You hold command of the entire journey, so use this old man as you please.”
“…As you command.”
It was a journey suffocating in every way.
* * *
After over twenty days of hellish travel, Il-mok and his group arrived in the Western Regions.
To avoid the Taklamakan Desert and barren wastelands, they had no choice but to take the roundabout route through Gansu and Qinghai.
As Andahui, the first place encountered crossing from Qinghai into the Western Regions, came into view,
Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang, who had followed silently for twenty days, finally spoke.
“What’s your plan? Do you intend to slaughter the Potala Palace Esoteric monks?”
“First, let’s grasp the exact situation. Starting with how devout the locals are to Esoteric Buddhism.”
Just as in Islamic territories, if all residents absolutely believed in the religion, proselytizing would be difficult.
“I see.”
Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang replied curtly, as if uninterested.
Once in Andahui, they moved as Il-mok intended.
Disguised as ordinary merchants with human-skin masks and changes of clothes, they wandered the town briefly.
Then Il-mok realized belatedly.
Something was wrong here.
“I don’t wanna go! Let me go!”
A child’s whiny voice echoed from somewhere.
Turning curiously, he saw a girl, barely around ten, clutched by Esoteric monks.
“Mom!! Dad!!!”
The child wailed and screamed, but astoundingly, her apparent parents deliberately looked away.
As Il-mok watched, countless thoughts raced through his mind.
Was intervening the right thing?
In his past life’s modern world, it might seem heartless, but this was a different place.
Such scenes were quite common here.
When mouths grew too many for families to feed, people sent children to temples, Taoist shrines, or palaces to reduce the burden.
Especially for gifted children, it was common to offer donations to have them taken.
Parents hoped for a happier life there than starving.
So, in the Central Plains, Il-mok wouldn’t have even considered intervening.
But this was the Western Regions.
‘…They definitely see dual cultivation as a training method.’
The Esoteric monks’ practices he’d heard from the Heavenly Demon were bizarre.
‘No way. Even so, with that young child?’
A filthy scenario sprang to mind, setting off alarms in his head.
After brief hesitation, as the child was dragged away, Il-mok stepped forward.
“Could you wait a moment?”
Hoping it might be a misunderstanding, he chose dialogue first. He didn’t want to start a massacre on uncertain grounds.
“We’re merchants from the Central Plains yonder. If it’s not too rude, could you explain the situation?”
Perhaps due to his politeness, while some monks scowled, one stepped forward with a smiling face.
“I’m not sure what you mean. Isn’t this a common sight even in the Central Plains?”
“So, you’re taking her to be a disciple at Potala Palace? Do they raise nuns there too?”
“Hahaha. Does she have to be a disciple? She’s just a child needed to aid our Esoteric monks’ practices.”
At the monk’s reply, Il-mok’s ominous suspicions deepened.
“I’ve heard that among Western Esoteric practices, there are those involving dual cultivation.”
The monk tilted his head briefly at Il-mok’s question, then beamed.
“Ah! It seems there’s a misunderstanding. Hahaha. Dual cultivation with such a young girl? Preposterous.”
Il-mok couldn’t relax at the monk’s words. He couldn’t blindly trust them.
“Then, you’re taking her for chores like laundry or cooking?”
The monk shook his head and countered.
“How much do you know about Potala Palace’s doctrines?”
“Only that they emphasize Shakti.”
“Hehehe. Yes. Feminine creative power is truly boundless. But the human body is mysterious. In childhood, it holds no such power, but at a certain point, it explodes forth. And once a month, with menstruation, that power weakens slightly.”
“…….”
As Il-mok fell silent, feeling bugs crawling over his skin,
The monk spoke blissfully, as if preaching truth.
“That’s why we’ll teach this child joy. For the day, a few years from now, that will come to her.”
“…It doesn’t seem the girl has consented.”
Il-mok’s voice had turned icy, yet the monk still smiled.
“Patron, truth lies not in suffering. It lies in pleasure. Once educated, the child will revel in that truth.”
Il-mok realized then.
The man truly believed his own words.
Not a shred of doubt in the monk’s eyes.
That’s why he spouted such nonsense so boldly.
Realizing this, Il-mok smiled brightly for some reason.
Gazing at the child gripped by the monks.
“Sleep soundly and wake. Your nightmare will be over.”
The terrified child strangely felt a warmth in that smile.
Thwack.
Struck at an acupoint by Il-mok’s flicking finger strike, she fell into deep slumber.
In an instant, Il-mok’s face, having subdued the child, wore the wrathful mask of the Four Heavenly Kings.