Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 92
>Chapter Title: Master (1)
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“No One Held a Knife to Your Throat Saying Become the Heavenly Demon” Chapter 92
Master (1)
“Disciple?”
Il-mok, who had bowed deeply and realized he was still alive, cautiously lifted his head. The old man’s sword had stopped right in front of his face.
With sword energy still coiling around it.
*Gulp.*
Il-mok hiccupped involuntarily but pulled himself together and shouted.
“That’s right, Master! Do you truly not recognize me?”
“…….”
The old man squinted, appraising Il-mok like he was inspecting merchandise for a moment.
Then, with eyes brimming with longing, the old man asked.
“Could it be… Yeong-jin?”
Seizing the moment, Il-mok cried out.
“Yes, Master! I am Yeong-jin, your disciple!”
“Heavens. To think the little rascal has grown this much already.”
Gazing down at Il-mok with a face full of感慨, the old man tilted his head.
“Disciple. Why are you naked?”
Il-mok wanted to retort, *And why are you the one without pants?* but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
‘If I bring that up, who knows where the conversation will go.’
In the worst case, that sword might fly toward his neck again.
Instead, Il-mok answered with a degree of honesty. An answer that the old man, who practiced the same martial art, would surely empathize with.
“The dust and sweat on my clothes felt so filthy, I couldn’t bear to wear them, Master.”
“Haha. To have reached such a realm already—truly impressive.”
The fact that he viewed an obsession with hygiene as praiseworthy showed the old man suffered from the same compulsion.
“Hmm. Still, you can’t just stay naked like that. Come, let’s head back together.”
At the old man’s kind offer, Il-mok flinched involuntarily.
“Together… you say?”
“Indeed. You came here to see your master, didn’t you?”
“Y-Yes, Master.”
In the end, Il-mok followed the old man with the heart of a cow being led to slaughter.
‘But… does he even know the way to his own house?’
Il-mok harbored such doubts as he trailed behind the old man for a while.
The old man walking ahead suddenly halted.
‘Damn it. He doesn’t know after all, does he?’
But Il-mok’s assumption was wrong.
The old man whipped around, radiating killing intent as he demanded.
“Who are you, sneaking up on me without a sound?”
“!?”
Il-mok’s mind went blank for a moment, but having dealt with a dementia-afflicted elder before, he quickly regained his composure.
“Master! Have you forgotten already? I’m Yeong-jin, your disciple!”
The old man eyed him suspiciously for a moment at his bold reply.
“Heavens. You look younger than last time. Did you succeed in shedding your mortal shell?”
“…….”
*Weren’t you just saying how much I’d grown?*
But getting serious would only hurt him. Dealing with someone with dementia required extreme patience.
“Sh-Shedding my mortal shell? That’s beyond this disciple’s level. It’s just that my skin improved from a spirit medicine I ate by chance, that’s all. Haha.”
“Oh? Spirit medicine. Sounds like you had a stroke of fortune.”
“Y-Yes, Master.”
The old man nodded approvingly at Il-mok’s answer and said.
“So that’s why you’re naked. The clothes must have been soiled with impurities.”
“Y-Yes, Master. Ever since taking the spirit medicine, my compulsions have worsened, and it’s been agony.”
“Hahaha. So you came back to this master because of that.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Then let’s hurry home.”
The old man smiled brightly, as if delighted by his long-lost disciple’s return, and took the lead once more.
But after walking some distance, he tilted his head again and turned to Il-mok with killing intent billowing.
“Who are you?”
“…….”
Il-mok squeezed his eyes shut and said nothing.
* * *
After repeating similar yet slightly different conversations with the old man several times.
Il-mok finally arrived at the old man’s house.
The path guided by the old man, who kept resetting his memory. Naturally, doubts arose whether this was truly his home, but they quickly dissipated.
And for good reason.
“Young folks are sturdy, but wandering around naked is bad for your health. At least put these on.”
The old man pulled out training clothes and undergarments from the house as if it were familiar territory and handed them to Il-mok.
They were impeccably clean, and the entire house was meticulously organized, down to the corners.
It screamed the home of someone plagued by compulsions.
Having walked naked for quite some time already, Il-mok dressed in the undergarments and training clothes the old man gave him and fell into thought.
One might wonder how the old man, with his jumbled memories, remembered the way home, but Il-mok was pondering a far graver issue.
‘Horrifying. Does this mean if I advance further in the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword and age, I could end up like that?’
To Il-mok, the old man was a mirror reflecting his future.
‘I mustn’t gain any more insights.’
Il-mok resolved himself.
If he managed to escape this Mang-a Ridge alive, from then on, he’d slack off with even greater diligence.
Once Il-mok had dressed fully with a resolute expression, the watching old man beamed contentedly.
“Hahaha. Truly filial, Yeong-jin. Or was it Tae-su?”
“It’s Yeong-jin, Master.”
“Hahaha. Right, Yeong-jin. I’m delighted you came all this way to see your master. Hahaha.”
“Ahem. A master is like a second parent, so it’s only natural, isn’t it?”
“Hahaha. Splendid. But this worthless master has nothing to give his disciple. What to do?”
“N-No, how could you say you have nothing to give, Master?”
Il-mok waved his hands in refusal, but the old man ignored him.
“No. How could I send away a disciple I haven’t seen in ages empty-handed? Perfect timing, actually. Since you’re here, let this master inspect your swordsmanship.”
Il-mok nearly made a face like he’d eaten shit but managed to control it and asked back.
“…My sword, you say?”
“Indeed. Let’s go outside.”
Watching the old man stride out the door confidently, Il-mok came up with a ploy.
“What are you doing still inside?”
“Master. We weren’t heading out—we were coming in. Didn’t you say we should enjoy some tea inside?”
Il-mok lied very naturally.
“You dare mock your master? Even if I’m old, do you think I’d forget something from mere moments ago?”
But it didn’t work on the old man.
Under his glare radiating fierce pressure, Il-mok swallowed curses inwardly.
‘Why is he perfectly fine at times like this!?’
In the end, Il-mok couldn’t withstand the old man’s aura and stepped outside.
“Perform the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword to the best of your ability. Once I gauge your level, I’ll impart guidance.”
At the old man’s command, Il-mok began a half-hearted sword dance.
To avoid insights, he swung sloppily for just a short while.
“You brat!! Dare you deceive this master’s eyes!”
The old man’s rebuke fell once more.
Realizing he might actually die at the old man’s hands like this, Il-mok finally gave it his all with the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.
The old man, scrutinizing Il-mok’s sword dance closely, nodded approvingly and said.
“To have reached such a level already—truly impressive. However, you didn’t perform the later forms at all. Perhaps this master hasn’t taught them to you yet?”
Il-mok flinched involuntarily.
‘Damn. The later forms are absolutely out of the question….’
Fearing severe side effects, Il-mok had diligently avoided training the later forms.
“This disciple’s skill is still lacking, so I cannot perform the later forms.”
“Hahaha. But we’re training now, aren’t we? Only by correcting flaws in training can one refine the sword and wield it in real combat.”
Ignoring Il-mok’s excuse, the old man stroked his beard with a masterly expression, drew his sword, and began his own sword dance.
It closely resembled the sword dance the Heavenly Demon had shown Il-mok just before entering the Demonic Path Academy, when teaching him the later forms.
‘…Even amidst dementia, he hasn’t forgotten the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.’
Perhaps because it was the demonic art he’d devoted his life to, Il-mok thought.
After demonstrating the dance and explaining the forms’ essentials and true intent, the old man stopped and looked at Il-mok.
“Now, you try it once.”
Though his vision darkened, Il-mok inwardly prayed as he readied his sword.
‘Yeah, if I do it a bit, his memory will probably glitch again.’
Turning his positive circuits to full, Il-mok began the sword dance.
“Tut. There, you need to tilt the sword a bit more diagonally.”
“Your internal energy isn’t keeping up with the sword’s speed!”
Far from glitching, the old man’s memory seemed to revive as he taught, meticulously instructing on the later forms of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.
It was a heaven-sent opportunity, truly.
‘Damn it!! Why now!?’
Though Il-mok wanted none of it.
* * *
While Il-mok was engrossed in the serendipitous encounter with his new “master.”
In a location some distance from Mang-a Ridge.
There, the Demonic Path Academy’s cadets, instructors, and assistants had gathered.
It was the destination of this third exam.
And now, as the exam time drew to a close, a strange atmosphere hung in the air.
“Why hasn’t the youngest young master shown up yet…?”
Because Il-mok, whom everyone expected to take first place, hadn’t appeared—not even for first, or any place.
Even Bang Mi-hwa and Ha Yeong, who had claimed first and second in his absence, were initially thrilled at beating him but now looked uneasy.
Murmurs began to ripple among the cadets, and Assistant Instructor Chwi Il-hwan, who led them, made a decision.
“Instructor Eun-ryeo. Take the cadets back to the Demonic Path Academy. The rest of us will search the exam area for Cadet Il-mok.”
Mobilizing the cadets to comb the mountains would be faster, but it risked more getting lost.
Right after Instructor Eun-ryeo led the nineteen cadets away to the academy.
Chwi Il-hwan and the instructors and assistants began scouring the three exam mountains inch by inch.
“Cadet Il-mok!”
“The exam’s over—come out now!”
“Cadet Il-mok!! Pull yourself together!!”
Fearing he might be gravely injured and collapsed somewhere, they bellowed at the top of their lungs while searching. There was a slim chance the fainting Il-mok might hear and wake.
But no matter how loudly they called, Il-mok didn’t respond, nor was there any signal from a whistle or rod.
The exam spanned a vast area, and with only seven instructors and assistants combined, thoroughly searching the mountains would take time.
Tracking Il-mok’s trail wasn’t easy either, amid traces left by other cadets, assistants, and instructors during the exam. Distinguishing whose tracks were whose wasn’t straightforward, even if finding tracks themselves was simple for them.
In the end, unable to find him as the sky turned crimson, Head Instructor Chwi Il-hwan, overseer of the new cadets, had to make a call.
He lit a rod as a signal, summoning the scattered assistants and instructors.
“Enough time has passed—it’s beyond something they can resolve on their own.”
Addressing the gathered group, Chwi Il-hwan led them back to the Demonic Path Academy.
Upon returning, he went straight to the academy lord’s hall and reported Il-mok’s disappearance.
And as the sun fully set and darkness cloaked the sky.
“…What did you just say?”
Word of Il-mok’s disappearance had reached the Heavenly Demon’s ears.