Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: A Change of Plans
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As Neung Un-bi descended into the dueling arena and stood facing Wi Ji-hyeok, the grounds fell silent, thick with a chilling tension.
Neung Un-bi inwardly scoffed at the sight of Wi Ji-hyeok, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking on with a lofty expression.
*This bastard… he’s already won, hasn’t he.*
He must have already secured victory in his mind before the fight even began.
*Well, would he ever imagine losing?*
He was, after all, the renowned First Young Master.
In truth, Neung Un-bi had heard stories about him so often his ears were about to fall off.
That blabbermouth Wang Cheon never let his lips dry, singing his praises.
Unlike the Third Young Master, the First Young Master did this, the First Young Master did that.
That constant comparison…
Was that any way to treat a budding sprout?
There was no worse method of education than comparing one’s own child to the talented kid next door.
That was why he had turned to forbidden arts.
In a way, Wang Cheon could never be free from the responsibility for Neung Un-bi’s Qi Deviation.
Reading through his memories, Neung Un-bi’s past circumstances were truly pitiful.
But it couldn’t be said to be entirely Wang Cheon’s fault.
The Neung Un-bi in his memories always seemed to feel small in front of Wi Ji-hyeok.
He felt a sense of self-loathing in his presence and had striven, almost to the point of desperation, to surpass him.
*Foolish child. From what I can see, what the original Neung Un-bi possessed was already immense…*
They were what one would call geniuses.
Though their degrees varied, Wi Ji-hyeok, Neung Un-bi… no, the rest of the disciples were the same.
Was the title of the Cult Leader’s disciple given to just anyone?
From the very beginning, the most promising sprouts were chosen and nurtured under the Cult Leader’s shadow.
So, naturally, they were bound to be exceptional.
Of course, meticulous management was essential.
One of them was to inherit the throne and brighten the future of the Demonic Cult; how could they be raised carelessly?
They were fed elixirs and divine pills, and taught profound martial arts, effectively turning them into monsters.
But that didn’t mean the disciples just passively accepted what was given.
They put in what could literally be described as bone-grinding effort.
No, even that level of effort was not nearly enough. To avoid falling behind, they had to devote themselves to training until they were gasping for breath.
Why?
Because one day, they would have to pay the price for aspiring to the throne.
Once one of the five was chosen as the successor, the rest were cast aside in an instant, their years of effort rendered meaningless.
In short, they were disposed of.
Even if they were family, bound by blood, the moment their object of loyalty was decided, the ties were cleanly severed.
This was because they could become a threat to the next Cult Leader.
In reality, some had been unable to accept their fate and had rebelled, resisted.
When faced with imminent death, wasn't that a natural human reaction?
Because of this, a bloody storm always raged within the Demonic Cult during each transition of leadership. Every Cult Leader in history had walked such a path, and the roadsides were filled with the corpses and blood of the disciples who had striven alongside them.
Such was the throne. A seat built where the blood of its challengers had soaked the ground.
Of course, not all disciples met such a fate.
There were also those who submitted beforehand to save their own lives.
By bowing their heads and pledging loyalty before the contest for the throne began, they could preserve their lives.
With that single decision, they could live a life of comfort and luxury in a position befitting their abilities.
But was it that easy?
Those who had already tasted the sweet dream of power could never let it go so easily.
For someone who had come so close to the summit, what was the value of their own life?
To them, submission was more difficult than death.
And so, knowing they would die, they ran toward their goal until the very end.
Like moths, madly flapping their wings and diving into the bonfire of power, of the absolute peak.
The man before him, Wi Ji-hyeok, could be said to be at the very top of such men.
A genius who, not satisfied with his talent alone, had relentlessly pushed himself, willing to be ground into dust to reach the summit.
He was also a man who had earned the loyalty of those under his command. It was no accident that the First Disciple’s faction was the largest.
*But I’m different.*
The position of Cult Leader?
Why on earth would he want something like that?
He had no interest in it from the start.
In other words, his goals and Wi Ji-hyeok’s were fundamentally different!
*This is perfect.*
He didn’t know what the Cult Leader was thinking, pitting him against Wi Ji-hyeok, but he would use this opportunity to completely shatter any expectations.
Snow Mountain Manor, Wang Cheon, Ju Seung.
No, anyone! From now on, no one would be able to hold even the slightest expectation for him.
Does it cost money to kneel?
What’s the big deal about bowing your head once?
“Uh, um… you two?”
“…Huh?”
As the two stood staring at each other in silence for a long moment, the tournament announcer cautiously spoke to them.
“You must greet the VIP section so I can proceed…”
“Ah!”
At the announcer’s words, Neung Un-bi let out a cry of realization, then spun around and bowed his head.
“The third, Neung Un-bi, greets the Cult Leader and all the elders of the Cult. I once again thank the Cult Leader for creating this opportunity to test my skills against my esteemed First Brother, whom I have long admired.”
“The first, Wi Ji-hyeok. Since you have created such a meaningful occasion, I will do my utmost.”
At the two men’s resonant greetings, the quiet area around the dueling stage filled with thunderous cheers.
“Begin.”
The duel began the moment Dam Un-cheon, having received their greetings, gave his consent.
Unlike Neung Un-bi, who leaped back to create distance and took a stance, Wi Ji-hyeok remained as he was, hands clasped behind his back, extending one open palm forward.
That very start was grating. How arrogant he was, as much as he was skilled…
“I heard your body has recovered.”
“That’s a baseless rumor. There isn’t a spot on my body that doesn’t ache.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course! So please, I beg you, go easy on me.”
“Hmm… could I do that? Our Master has said he wishes to see, so I must give it my all.”
“Do you have to?”
“…”
“Who am I that you, First Brother, must give your all? Don’t be fooled by empty rumors… you can hold back as much as you like.”
At Neung Un-bi’s playful words, Wi Ji-hyeok let out a smirk.
Though his words said one thing, Neung Un-bi was observing him with a sharp gaze.
A perfect contradiction between words and actions.
“Your words ask me to go easy, but your eyes say otherwise.”
“Ah, this is…”
*Just a habit.*
A habitual gaze, one he had used to observe opponents for a long time.
“Do your best. For I will do the same.”
“…”
Wi Ji-hyeok relaxed his stance.
His legs bent naturally, and his two feet pressed heavily upon the dueling stage.
Demonic energy began to rise, enveloping his entire body, and along with his outstretched hands, his presence filled the entire space.
As his skin began to tingle, the smile vanished from Neung Un-bi’s lips.
*This bastard is serious. He really plans to give it his all.*
*Then I’ll have to give it my all too. What choice do I have? I’ll do my best… to get my ass kicked!*
*Fwoosh!*
Neung Un-bi moved first.
He couldn’t let his esteemed First Brother wait and take the second move. Since he’d decided to take a beating, he might as well save his face.
Wasn’t that the proper order of things?
The gap closed in a single step, and his powerfully extended fist cut through the air like a ray of light.
In that instant.
Wi Ji-hyeok, the target, abruptly dropped his stance, and the fist struck empty air.
*Pang!*
The air burst, and the surrounding space vibrated with a sharp ring.
*Shwaaak!*
Having lowered his stance, Wi Ji-hyeok’s fist shot up like an awl.
By leaning back immediately, the fist narrowly grazed Neung Un-bi’s chest.
But before the fist reached its apex, it changed direction, and his wide-open fingers shot forward to jab his chest fiercely.
*…He’s fast?*
Startled by the sudden change in direction, Neung Un-bi threw himself backward and kicked his leg up.
*Thwack!*
The sound of foot and hand colliding.
But the sound was weak.
At the moment of impact, Wi Ji-hyeok’s hand, which had pulled back and shot out again, created a change.
A full eight afterimages appeared.
*This, this is the Eight Demons Palm?*
Known as the hand gestures of eight demons, it was a profound palm technique of the Demonic Cult that was said to create endless variations upon striking.
And it was filled with immense internal energy.
As Neung Un-bi quickly retreated, Wi Ji-hyeok immediately pursued, closing the distance and continuing his assault.
*This son of a bitch… is he going to be like this from the start?*
*Doesn’t he know about buildup?*
*A duel needs to have an order, an order! Huh?!*
*Shouldn’t the conclusion come at the very moment the excitement from the exchange of blows builds and expectations boil over explosively!*
*What’s the meaning of coming at me like you’re trying to kill me from the very beginning!*
Neung Un-bi felt like grabbing Wi Ji-hyeok by the ear and giving him a long lecture.
But the situation was too urgent for that.
*Should I block… no, should I dodge?*
*No. To show the gap in our skills by being miserably defeated, I should get hit here and fall…*
In that brief moment, tens of thousands of thoughts flashed through his mind, and soon, a conclusion was reached.
*…I’ll take the hit.*
But if he took a direct hit, he might actually die, so he’d take it at an angle as much as possible.
“Hup!”
In an instant, Neung Un-bi’s pupils dilated as if to swallow the whites of his eyes.
*Swoooosh.*
The world in his vision slowed down.
The eight afterimages created by Wi Ji-hyeok, who was right in front of him, all came into view at once.
The first step of Demolition, the art he had long honed to kill his opponents, was Observation, the act of scrutinizing the opponent’s movements.
No matter how strong he was, he was still a disciple who had not fully matured. He wasn’t so skilled that Neung Un-bi, who had dodged a blow from So Seol-ok-su, a supreme master of the Demonic Cult, couldn’t analyze him.
He could definitely dodge it.
The only problem was that the flow of movement was too fast to follow with the naked eye.
*Dammit, I took too long to decide.*
For now, he had no choice but to get hit in the least painful way possible.
Neung Un-bi’s feet, now in a hurry, tapped lightly on the dueling stage.
No Sound, for it was silent.
No Form, for its shape could not be seen.
No Shadow, for it cast none.
In that fleeting moment, the footwork of the Three Nothings, known only to Neung Un-bi in this world, was unleashed.
*Papapapapang!*
The eight palm strikes exploded, swallowing Neung Un-bi whole.
“Wooooah!”
Someone’s cheer.
*Clench.*
Someone’s pride.
“Aah…”
And for someone who had been filled with expectation, it was a sight that brought a sigh.
But one person, and one person only, the Cult Leader, saw something different.
‘*That, that brat!*’
A look of astonishment flashed across the eyes of the Cult Leader, who had been watching the duel with a languid expression from the VIP section.
A momentary flow that had been blurry even to him.
But Dam Un-cheon had seen it clearly. The two actions Neung Un-bi had shown just before Wi Ji-hyeok’s palm energy exploded.
*…He saw, and he moved.*
It looked as though he was taking the full brunt of all the palm strikes, but not a single one had been a direct hit.
It wasn’t that Wi Ji-hyeok was lacking. His palm technique was truly worthy of being called first-rate, but Neung Un-bi’s skill was just a little bit ahead.
In other words, the boy had deliberately taken Wi Ji-hyeok’s attack.
His amazement was beyond words. Dam Un-cheon barely managed to suppress the gasp that almost escaped his lips and took a moment to calm his quickened breath, glancing around.
Fortunately, no one had noticed his reaction.
Where the Eight Demons Palm had swept through.
Neung Un-bi was on his knees in a wretched state, looking up at Wi Ji-hyeok.
*…Good throw.*
He had taken one solid hit in the middle, which made him so angry his demonic energy flared, but he barely managed to calm it with a Daoist demon-subduing mantra.
Now was the time for a glorious exit.
“Keuheok… First Brother, truly… you are strong…”
“…”
After forcing out the words, Neung Un-bi’s eyes slowly closed, and he collapsed.
He gently turned his head to the side so his nose wouldn’t hit the floor.
“Waaaaaah!”
The cheers grew louder.
But Wi Ji-hyeok, the victor, merely looked down at his own hand with an unsettled expression.
*What is this feeling…? Could it be?*
But Neung Un-bi was collapsed and unconscious.
*…Am I just being overly sensitive?*
“P-Please step back, First Young Master.”
The announcer moved to examine Neung Un-bi’s body to declare the end of the match.
Below the stage, medics from the Seventh Elder’s division were preparing a stretcher.
“Hoo…”
Wi Ji-hyeok slowly turned to face the Cult Leader in the VIP section.
“I apologize for not being able to properly stir the excitement, Master.”
“…”
His tone was respectful, but his voice was filled with pride.
But Dam Un-cheon, chin in hand, smirked and said.
“What is there to be sorry for?”
“Pardon?”
“It seems we are still far from the height of excitement, are we not?”
“…?”
As soon as Dam Un-cheon’s words ended, a roar erupted from the audience.
“Huh? Huh?”
The announcer’s voice, retreating in surprise.
Wi Ji-hyeok immediately turned around, and his eyes fell upon the sight of Neung Un-bi, who he thought was unconscious, standing up abruptly.
“Kyak! Ptui!”
“…”
He even spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva in a thoroughly delinquent manner.
And he was staring not at Wi Ji-hyeok, but at the Cult Leader with a serious expression.
[Are you serious!?]
[Of course. I promise. But, you have to win, don’t you?]
[…Very well.]
A truly serious telepathic exchange that no one else knew of took place, and then Neung Un-bi’s gaze turned to Wi Ji-hyeok.
“Well, this is a shame. It would have been nice if it ended just like that.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? I’m saying let’s fight again.”
“…?”
Towards the bewildered Wi Ji-hyeok, Neung Un-bi grinned, revealing his white teeth.
Just then, as he was lying there, or rather, pretending to be, the Cult Leader’s telepathic message had struck his ears.
[You, shall I send you to the Central Plains?]
What more needed to be said? He had to get up, of course!
*Wi Ji-hyeok, my apologies to you.*
But since the condition is what it is…
“You bastard… What is the meaning of this!”
“…”
Wi Ji-hyeok roared as if in anger.
*What’s the meaning of this?*
*The introduction just ended. Now it’s time for the development… no, straight to the turn and conclusion.*
*This duel, I have to win it.*
*With everything I have.*