Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 87
>Chapter Title: Demonic Path's Greatest Prodigy (6)
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Yeom Ga-hwi's concerns were not unfounded.
As the exchanges with Il-mok increased, and Il-mok's sword grew ever more refined and swift.
"Heh heh heh."
The smile creeping across Chu Il-hwan's lips deepened with every moment.
Now aware that his own state was turning abnormal, Chu Il-hwan realized it was too dangerous to keep indulging.
'I need to end this.'
Shaking off his reluctance with effort, Chu Il-hwan threw himself into the fight for real.
Crackle.
Even fiercer black lightning coiled around his twin palms, and he unleashed lethal strikes outright at Il-mok.
He had no intention of killing.
It was a feint meant to pressure the relentlessly attacking Il-mok and wrap things up quickly.
But.
'You think I'd buy that!'
Convinced Chu Il-hwan would never truly try to kill him, Il-mok ignored the right palm hurtling toward his heart and swung his sword straight at Chu Il-hwan's throat.
"!?"
Flustered, Chu Il-hwan yanked back his right palm while thrusting out his left to narrowly deflect Il-mok's incoming blade.
"Ha!"
That slight disruption in Chu Il-hwan's stance was all the opening Il-mok needed, and he redoubled his assault.
"Do you have a death wish!!"
Beyond exasperated, Chu Il-hwan bellowed and properly drew inner energy from his dantian.
He needed to subdue Il-mok fast, before his own rampage took over.
On top of that, he scattered genuine killing intent while unleashing Black Lightning Demon Palms at Il-mok.
But one thing had escaped his notice.
'It's just a feint anyway.'
Chu Il-hwan's killing intent posed no hindrance to Il-mok whatsoever.
Nor was it solely because he assumed it was a feint.
Il-mok had endured far more horrific things countless times—things that didn't even compare to Chu Il-hwan's aura.
Namely, the killing intent and demonic energy his master, the Heavenly Demon, had scattered freely under the guise of "sparring like real combat."
Of course, even the Heavenly Demon hadn't gone all-out, but compared to the killing intent emanating from the cult's supreme leader, Chu Il-hwan's fell far short.
"Ha!"
Acting as if Chu Il-hwan's killing intent was beneath notice, Il-mok pressed forward fearlessly.
Il-mok's blade, honed on Chu Il-hwan's vitals, clashed repeatedly with the man's palms crackling with black lightning.
"Keuk...."
The gap in inner energy and cultivation was unavoidable; internal injuries piled up as faint blood trickled from Il-mok's mouth.
Scree.
Every time Chu Il-hwan clashed with Il-mok and hesitated, an arrow whistled in from afar, courtesy of Jeong Hyeon, zeroing in on him.
Subduing a suicidally charging Il-mok without killing him was challenge enough—having Jeong Hyeon snipe from range made it near impossible.
Naturally, their exchange dragged on.
'Kuh heh heh.'
At some point, a mischievous grin returned to Chu Il-hwan's face.
Not his usual fabricated smirk, but one bubbling up on impulse.
'Heh heh heh. Fine then. If he wants to die that badly, I'll oblige.'
In a momentary lapse of control over his killing impulse, Chu Il-hwan's right palm drove toward Il-mok's heart.
Il-mok dismissed it as another feint and countered with a killing blow of his own.
Just before Chu Il-hwan's right palm could rupture Il-mok's heart—
- Halt!!!
Yeom Ga-hwi's harsh voice transmission, sensing the strike's deadly sincerity, rattled Chu Il-hwan's mind.
"!!"
Barely pulling free from his demonic energy's surge, Chu Il-hwan hastily withdrew some inner energy from his right palm and wrenched his arm aside.
The right palm, which had reached near Il-mok's left chest, froze—then the splayed fingers curled as the index zeroed in on Il-mok's acupoint.
Scree!
Even amid the chaos, Chu Il-hwan violently twisted his torso to evade Il-mok's thrust.
Pop!
Their bodies crossed paths.
Boom!!
Struck squarely in the acupoint by Chu Il-hwan's finger strike, Il-mok tumbled across the dirt.
"Huh...."
Yet having pinned Il-mok, Chu Il-hwan stared down at the fallen cadet in utter bewilderment.
More precisely, at something dangling from the tip of Il-mok's sword.
"To go for that, even in the thick of it."
It was the bell tied to his own waist sash.
Il-mok's sword, pretending to target Chu Il-hwan's throat, had veered off-course in that split second when Yeom Ga-hwi's transmission made him flinch.
Then, as Chu Il-hwan twisted to shield his neck while striking the acupoint—as if on cue—Il-mok's blade severed the string securing the bell to the sash.
One could blame Yeom Ga-hwi's intervention, but.
'Falling prey to my demonic art's backlash makes excuses pointless.'
Chu Il-hwan gave a light cluck of his tongue and conceded defeat.
"Congratulations. Highest score on this exam is yours."
At his praise, Il-mok—sprawled in the dirt—grimaced like he'd eaten shit.
"Could you unblock my acupoints first, at least?"
The intense spar plus rolling in filth had his compulsions on the verge of flaring.
As Chu Il-hwan approached to release Il-mok's points, the cadet suddenly spasmed and yelled.
"P-Please do the other cadets first! I-I'm good if another cadet handles mine later!"
He'd just realized what mischief Chu Il-hwan might pull during the unblocking.
'Hoo. Prioritizing his comrades even now.'
Yeom Ga-hwi, observing from afar, stroked his beard in approval.
Chu Il-hwan moved to release the remaining cadets' acupoints one by one.
Jeong Hyeon, who had been firing arrows from distance, had by now returned nearby.
"Cadet Jeong! Release my points!"
Il-mok urgently called out to Jeong Hyeon, who lingered about a zhang away; she blinked in shock.
"M-Me?"
"Yes! It has to be you, Cadet Jeong! Hurry over and do it!"
"I could ask the instructor...."
"No, not the instructor! Cadet Jeong only!"
"......"
Jeong Hyeon, flushed crimson like her face might burst from Il-mok's fervent insistence, stood frozen in confusion.
'...Fond of the fairer sex, was it.'
Yeom Ga-hwi, watching from afar, nodded sagely with an 'indeed.'
* * *
With everything settled and cadets trickling back to the muster point.
At the roots of a massive tree on one flank of Taecheon Peak.
'Hohoho. Sure enough, my stealth is flawless—even Instructor Chu Il-hwan couldn't sniff me out!'
A woman hunkered there, smug as could be.
'Hohoho. Victory's mine this time, Youngest Young Master!'
Without end.
* * *
The day after the second exam concluded.
Life at the Demonic Path Academy carried on as usual for all. Even Bang Mi-hwa, found far too late after total immersion in the test, was no exception.
But one change escaped the cadets' notice.
The Academy Lord's absence.
For the first time in ages, the lord had left the academy—bound for Heavenly Demon Hall at the main headquarters.
"Greetings to the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons."
Realm piercing the heavens yet radiating no aura, the Heavenly Demon wore a kindly smile as Yeom Ga-hwi offered utmost reverence.
"Hahaha. Come in, Academy Lord Yeom."
The Heavenly Demon welcomed him with the warmth of a rustic village elder.
"Rise now. Hahaha."
Straightening at the command, Yeom Ga-hwi presented the tome he'd brought with crisp precision.
"Then I'll head back to the academy."
"Hahaha. Care for a quick cup of tea while you're here?"
"What if the instructors stir up trouble in my absence? I dare not slack on the solemn charge from the Heavenly Demon himself."
The Heavenly Demon nodded at Yeom Ga-hwi's steadfast reply and dismissed him.
Moments after Yeom Ga-hwi departed Heavenly Demon Hall.
"Hmm."
Subtle expression crossing his face, the Heavenly Demon examined the tome Yeom Ga-hwi left behind.
An evaluation report—one penned personally by Academy Lord Yeom Ga-hwi.
Built on the instructors' submissions, plus his own firsthand observations and insights.
As the cult's cradle for future talents, such reports flowed to the Heavenly Demon every few months on schedule.
He perused them routinely, but this one stirred particular anticipation.
'Hahaha. Who knew old age would turn me into such a doting fool.'
All thanks to that brilliant youngest disciple.
Pre-academy antics aplenty; curiosity burned over his two months' feats there.
Especially with Yeom Ga-hwi in the know—expectations soared.
The man was no sycophant to lavish praise just to curry favor.
Curbing his eagerness, the Heavenly Demon unfolded the report and began reading.
Il-mok's section—perhaps by design—lay well toward the rear.
"Hoo."
Yeom Ga-hwi's assessment brimmed pure praise.
From such a man, no bootlicking.
'Hahaha. My youngest indeed.'
He read on, well pleased—until the closing line gave him pause.
- ...Such outstanding aptitude, though one flaw: his fondness for women.
A murmur slipped unbidden from the Heavenly Demon's lips.
"What in the world...."
No disappointment in Il-mok. Merely.
'That boy, chasing skirts...?'
Zero signs before the academy.
Truth be told, assigning Jin Ha-yeon as his maidservant had been a test of sorts.
Top beauty among the cult's young women—to gauge his response alongside her.
Yet the boy shunned romance even then, only to flaunt it openly at the academy?
Upright Yeom Ga-hwi spun no yarns.
Pondering briefly, the Heavenly Demon settled on his take.
'...My youngest's tastes run peculiar, it seems.'
* * *
Somewhere in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's main headquarters as darkness fell.
Two elders conferred.
In a pitch-black chamber—no faces visible, no one seemingly present, not even a lamp aglow.
One elder spoke cautiously.
"Heard the talk about the academies?"
Il-mok's inaugural venture: academies each branch ran to teach the young.
A full year on. Kids starting with the Thousand Character Classic and basic external martial arts now tackled simplified doctrines alongside foundational techniques.
Reports flooded headquarters nonstop: literacy and drills breeding ever-rising loyalty in the children—and their parents.
"Yes."
The questioner pressed at the opposite elder's even reply.
"And the Pure Heart Clinic?"
Il-mok's second brainchild—the facility dubbed Pure Heart Clinic, since "Heavenly Demon Divine Cult Psychiatric Ward" wouldn't fly.
Half a year past opening; counseling logs and case files now shaped a proper system.
Young warriors treated there routinely reported eased side effects—or breakthroughs elevating their prowess.
"Yes."
Another curt response drew a faint sigh from the asker.
"All the Youngest Young Master's initiatives have proven their worth. So why not sway him instead of killing?"