Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 56
>Chapter Title: Reception Camp (1)
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A few days later. Early morning.
After finishing breakfast, Il-mok spent the day differently from his usual routine.
Instead of attending his morning lesson with Jin Ha-yeon, he left Wind Rock Hall and headed somewhere else.
The massive estate where Il-mok arrived had training grounds divided into several sections.
“Are you Eighth Young Master?”
When the man guarding the front of the training ground asked, Il-mok nodded, and the man pointed to the space on the far left.
“You’ll take the examination over there.”
“Thank you for guiding me.”
Nodding, Il-mok shook off his tension as best he could and headed toward the spot the man indicated.
“Come on in.”
The one greeting Il-mok was a man who appeared to be in his forties, his face full of a mischievous air.
“Ah, don’t feel bad about not showing proper respect. In the Demonic Path Academy, we move only by the academy’s rules, regardless of family or rank. Eighth Young Master.”
Il-mok hid his inner tension and replied to the man’s joking words.
“I don’t mind. Instructor.”
“Hahaha. To be called ‘Instructor’ by the Supreme One’s disciple—looks like I’ve made it big.”
Il-mok tightened the string of tension inside him at the man’s playful tone.
The reason was simple.
The Demonic Path Academy entry examination was about to begin.
He wasn’t afraid of failing the exam. It was because this was the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
‘No telling what kind of lunatic he might be. Can’t let my guard down.’
He couldn’t relax, not knowing what insane thing this instructor might pull during the examination.
Having spent a year in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, Il-mok knew this all too well.
The ones who were at least somewhat sane in the cult were either the top experts who had mastered upper-level demonic arts to the Transcending Demon realm or the low-level warriors who only knew basic demonic arts.
The mid-tier experts were the craziest of all.
And an instructor at the Demonic Path Academy, which trained only the cult’s top talents, wouldn’t have settled for low-level demonic arts.
Yet as just an instructor, not the Academy Lord, he probably hadn’t reached Transcending Demon either.
In other words, Demonic Path Academy instructors were warriors at the peak of their madness, fresh as fish in season.
At that moment, the instructor, who had been grinning, spoke again.
“Then, let’s begin.”
Without any explanation, he suddenly stepped into a footwork technique and charged at Il-mok.
It might seem bizarre, but in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, it was par for the course.
No one hoping to enter the Demonic Path Academy would show up without even checking the examination format.
And even if they hadn’t, it didn’t matter. Anyone who got caught by a surprise attack like this wasn’t qualified anyway.
Il-mok didn’t disappoint the instructor’s expectations.
Chaeng!
He casually deflected the instructor’s thrusting palm strike, which had surged in aggressively, with Soul-Stealing Ready Sword.
“Hoo~.”
The instructor let out an intrigued hum, like he’d found an amusing toy, and pressed his assault.
The bare-handed instructor freely wielded his twin palms to pressure Il-mok.
He alternated left and right palms for unpredictable attacks or thrust both together in sudden bursts of power.
But Il-mok calmly blocked or evaded the onslaught.
‘Palm techniques—I’m used to those.’
The fact that the instructor’s main art was palm strikes was a boon for Il-mok.
Excluding his master the Heavenly Demon, the opponents Il-mok had sparred with most were Jin Ha-yeon and Hyeok-ryeon Seon-a.
And those two specialized in hand strikes and claw arts, respectively. Subtly different from palm techniques, but the counters were similar enough.
For a while, he steadily defended against the instructor’s attacks.
Once he’d grown accustomed to the opponent’s movements, changes appeared in Il-mok’s own.
He concisely swung his sword to check the foe’s advances while using footwork to widen the gap.
The basics of combat: distance. Maintain one that’s advantageous to you and disadvantageous to them.
Whether fists, palms, hands, or claws—even feet. For a swordsman like Il-mok facing a bare-handed foe, the simplest method was one.
Let my sword reach, but keep their hands at bay.
The most basic principle every swordsman knew, and yet perhaps the hardest because of it.
Chaeng!
Il-mok abruptly created about a pace of distance and relentlessly swung his sword while holding it.
Chaeng!
Whish!
His sword clashed with the instructor’s palm, sparking friction, or the instructor dodged with bizarre footwork.
But even as he blocked or evaded the sword, no opening to close in appeared.
“Hmm~?”
After several failed attempts to press forward, the instructor made another odd sound and his eyes gleamed.
‘No tension at all, huh.’
The instructor felt something uncanny. Like facing a seasoned swordsman who’d trained for at least a decade and survived hundreds of life-or-death duels.
Even amid ceaseless sword swings, his stance never crumbled, no gaps exposed.
‘Not chosen by the Supreme One for nothing.’
The instructor smirked with interest, and his aura shifted.
Pat!
Drawing slightly more internal energy from his dantian, he unleashed footwork at a noticeably faster speed.
The sudden acceleration mimicked a surprise attack.
He successfully closed the pace in an instant and thrust a palm.
Unlike before, black energy rippled over the instructor’s palm.
Sensing an inexplicable foreboding, Il-mok immediately circulated his energy to form sword qi.
Against the abruptly accelerated strike, Il-mok countered with the four-form Soul-Cutting Flash infused with the essence of swift swordplay.
Chaeng!!
A far more intense friction rang out, and Il-mok unwittingly furrowed his brow.
Not from internal injury from the clash.
‘Tch. It’s not just black.’
A tingling surge climbed his sword hand.
The black energy carried thunder qi.
But Il-mok didn’t panic.
First time facing thunder qi directly, but he’d dealt with similar before.
He surged energy from his dantian in one breath to repel the thunder qi creeping up his hand, then executed Soul-Enticing Sword, infused with the willow essence, to deflect the pressing black palm.
Chaeng!
He shifted position with footwork and followed with more swings, mixing feints and real strikes to make countering difficult.
‘Sparring with Jin Ha-yeon has helped in all sorts of ways.’
Not thunder qi, but experience from hundreds of clashes against Bare Hand Demon Art, a type of ice art.
Even against ice arts, direct clashes let chilling energy travel the blade, making it tough.
But one problem remained.
Il-mok was still two moves below Jin Ha-yeon, and the instructor was several above her—a big gap.
As Il-mok adequately weathered the assault, the instructor ramped up his speed again.
Pat!
“Hup!”
Il-mok was once more pushed into a defensive scramble.
Maintaining distance or fully evading palms grew harder; inevitably, he had to block the black palms with his sword.
“Urk.”
A light groan escaped amid the stinging thunder qi climbing his blade, but Il-mok barely escaped the crisis and held on.
But only for a moment.
Whoooosh!
Surprisingly, from some point, Il-mok began counterattacking.
The forms had become familiar.
Though speed and power kept rising, the forms were the same, so the palm movements and trajectories were predictable.
Il-mok, who’d seemed one-sidedly suppressed, now struck back intermittently.
‘Now!’
He finally found a gap, his sword tracing an ideal arc toward the instructor’s head.
Just before it pierced.
Pat!
The instructor’s hand, moving far faster than before, snatched Il-mok’s sword in an instant.
“Whew. That’s it.”
Exhaling deeply, the instructor reverted to his beaming smile and released the gripped sword.
“Thank you for the lesson.”
Il-mok sheathed his sword swiftly and bowed with a fist salute. The instructor laughed heartily and pointed somewhere.
“Hahaha. It was just a spar—lesson’s too much. You’ve got the interview left, so head to that hall over there.”
Il-mok bowed once more with a fist salute and headed to the indicated hall.
‘Hmm? Seems like a saner instructor than expected. Maybe a Transcending Demon expert?’
That thought crossed Il-mok’s mind, and he unwittingly glanced back. His eyes met the instructor’s, who was grinning and waving.
A chill ran through him for no reason. Il-mok gave a light throat-clearing greeting and hurried to the hall.
‘What was that?’
Il-mok couldn’t pinpoint the chill’s cause.
* * *
The Heavenly Demon’s youngest disciple and recently infamous Eighth Young Master for stirring up all sorts of events in the cult.
The instructor watched the Eighth Young Master’s retreating figure entering the hall, grinning. Chu Il-hwan’s eyes narrowed like a snake’s.
His face like a predator eyeing prey, he licked his lips.
“That was close. Got so excited I nearly killed him.”
The demonic art he cultivated was Black Thunder Demon Palm. Its side effect: murderous impulses.
* * *
Arriving at the hall, Il-mok waited his turn briefly before entering the prepared interview room.
The instructor waiting inside confirmed Il-mok’s name and asked.
“Among all past Heavenly Demons, including the current Heavenly Demon Hyeok-ryeon Il-hwi, who do you consider the greatest, and why?”
It wasn’t simply about picking a respected figure.
‘A question blending history books and doctrine.’
As objects of faith, the past Heavenly Demons’ myriad achievements filled the history texts.
Moreover, those achievements varied wildly, open to diverse interpretations per doctrine.
In essence, it tested which doctrine you valued most, tied to history.
No fixed answer, but you had to clearly explain your view, linked to Heavenly Demon Divine Cult doctrine.
“I believe the Seventh Heavenly Demon, the Mad Blood Heavenly Demon, achieved the most. The reason is…”
Il-mok answered fluidly.
Thanks to dozens of mock interviews with Jin Ha-yeon prepping for the Demonic Path Academy entry.
The instructor followed with various questions.
Some had clear right answers; others required weaving personal views with doctrine, laws, and history.
Their common thread:
“That’s all.”
They were questions Il-mok could answer without a hitch.
After about fifteen minutes of back-and-forth on a dozen queries.
The instructor nodded and said.
“Results will be posted on the bulletin in two days. Come back then.”
* * *
Two days later.
Il-mok headed to the massive estate with Jin Ha-yeon and Gu Yangmun, where they’d taken the Demonic Path Academy entry exam.
At the entrance, various people came and went, reactions mixing joy and sorrow.
At least it wasn’t too crowded.
‘They take only top talents from the start, so not many even take the exam, as expected.’
Il-mok wove through the sparse crowd to the wall and eyed the posted bulletin.
Fortunately.
No need to scour for his name.
It was right at the top.
“Congratulations, Young Master.”
“Hahaha. As expected of Il-mok Young Master—I knew you’d pass with flying colors!”
Amid Jin Ha-yeon’s modest congratulations and Gu Yangmun’s oddly more excited praise, Il-mok wore a subtle expression.
‘So now I’m really going in…’
To that horrific facility, staffed by lunatics and filled with wannabe lunatics as classmates.