Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: A Test of Mettle
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One year ago.
Neung Un-bi, who had awoken after falling into qi deviation—or rather, Cheok Wol-rin, who had awoken in that body—couldn't help but be flabbergasted.
A place he'd never seen, people he'd never met. He had heard tales of those who experienced such strange phenomena, but to think it was real?
But the Demonic Cult?
How? Why!
No matter how many times his dying enemies had screamed, “You fiend of the Demonic Cult!”, “You belong in the Demonic Cult!”, or “You're more vicious than any demon!”
Words becoming reality should have their limits.
What was he supposed to do, now that he'd actually become a member of the Demonic Cult? And the Third Young Master, of all things?
This was damn ridiculous…
Not just any cultist, but one of the successors to the leader's throne.
At first, he tried to escape.
But the Demonic Cult's security was far stricter than he'd imagined.
His body, just after suffering qi deviation, couldn't even make it over the walls of his residence, let alone ten li, before he was caught.
Despair, disappointment…
A tide of emotions he'd never felt in his past life washed over him.
Then, a thought suddenly struck him.
What happened to ‘that person’?
In an instant, a deep longing filled his mind.
Had that person achieved their great cause and witnessed the world they dreamed of?
He was curious, and he missed them.
He wanted to know what had happened, but he held back, fearing that news of him, now a member of the Demonic Cult, might bring them harm.
And there was a reason he had to meet them.
In his final moments, there were words he hadn't been able to say.
If he had died, they would have remained buried with him, but since he had absurdly survived, he had to deliver them.
So he decided.
To live, to become the real Neung Un-bi.
With a new body and new martial arts, he would go out into the world again.
His first goal was to escape the Demonic Cult, and his second was also to escape the Demonic Cult.
His destination: wherever that person was.
If they were alive, he would surely meet them.
Having set his goal, Neung Un-bi began to act proactively.
His body was horribly broken from the qi deviation, but even the Demonic Spirit Divine Pill he'd taken during his treatment, which had failed to dissolve and instead solidified within him, felt like a fortunate opportunity.
Yes, he would start from the basics, one step at a time. As soon as he had recovered enough, he began by sweeping the courtyard.
Is it not said that a practitioner purifies their mind by sweeping, and that when adapting to a new place, one should start from the very bottom?
He also began to learn demonic arts.
All rivers flow to the sea. Though their origins differ, they are all bound to converge in the end…
And so, he took up the sword again.
Old habits die hard, and the sword was what he knew best.
Though it was not his own style but that of the Demonic Cult, the fundamentals were the same.
Simple movements: thrust, slash, cut.
As a result, all the servants and maids working in his residence lost their jobs, and the elder who taught him was struck by lightning from a clear sky, demoted to the most obscure of posts.
Damn this Demonic Cult.
He felt so sorry when he heard about it from Wang Cheon…
He left his residence immediately after.
He built a hut in a secluded place and lived there with only Wang Cheon.
To top it all off, the Cult Leader helped by forbidding anyone from approaching his new dwelling, which was the icing on the cake.
He lived like a scholar preparing for the state examination, cutting ties with the world in a mountain temple to focus solely on his studies.
Drawing on the memories of the body's original owner, Neung Un-bi, he practiced the demonic arts and gradually recovered.
But in life, fortune is fickle; where there is good, bad is sure to follow.
During his meditation, the power of the undissolved Demonic Spirit Divine Pill erupted, reacting violently with his demonic cultivation method.
…That was the problem.
Damn this Demonic Cult's elixir.
What's there to be proud of, making one's gaze so ferocious? You could tell he was a cultist from ten li away just by looking at his eyes. And what about the surging killing intent?
He knew he'd messed up.
Learning demonic arts was one thing, but what was he to do about this uncontrollable demonic energy? How could he stand confidently before ‘that person’ in this state?
If he went out into the Central Plains like this, Daoists and Buddhists would greet him with a sword instead of a hello.
That was why he learned it.
A Daoist incantation, written on the last page of a book he'd painstakingly found in the Demonic Cult's library.
Yes, it was said that sacred energy was the natural enemy of demonic energy, possessing the power to suppress it, wasn't it?
And wasn't it said that reciting the Buddhist Heart Sutra alone gave one the power to overcome worldly desires?
Learning the sacred arts themselves would be impossible due to the conflict, but he thought an incantation might be fine. Feeling like he had nothing to lose, he gave it a try.
“Oh, my Lord of Thunder…”
To his surprise, it worked.
His mind calmed, and the seething demonic energy subsided, seeping back into his body.
Unless someone inspected his qi and blood, they would likely never even notice he practiced demonic arts.
He was so delighted that he decided to go all in, getting a Daoist robe and other related artifacts.
Wouldn't that also be better for his escape?
But where would he find such things in the Demonic Cult?
That's why he had traveled all the way to a black market near Qinghai, on the border with the Kunlun Sect's territory.
A few minor incidents had occurred because he was swayed by compassion and couldn't stand by in the face of injustice…
In any case, that was when he began to pretend (?) to be a Daoist.
Of course, he couldn't tell anyone the reason, not even Wang Cheon. To them, demonic energy was a source of pride and self-esteem.
Though he'd had everything taken away for unavoidable reasons, he had firmly memorized the incantation.
And he'd written the talisman dozens of times, so he could do it with his eyes closed…
***
“Young Master! Young Master!”
“Hmm?”
“What are you thinking about so deeply?”
“Ah! It's nothing. I was just lost in thought for a moment…”
“...?”
Pulled from his reverie by Wang Cheon's repeated calls, Neung Un-bi gave an awkward laugh.
“A messenger has arrived from the main fortress.”
“Hm? A messenger?”
At Wang Cheon's words, Neung Un-bi flinched and clutched the hem of the torn Daoist robe he was wearing.
They took everything else…
Not this too!
“What are you doing?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you... your clothes…”
“Ah, haha. It's nothing.”
Seeing Neung Un-bi's awkward smile, Wang Cheon shook his head and said,
“You've been summoned.”
“By whom?”
“The Cult Leader.”
“Why? I just saw him yesterday.”
“Well… I wouldn't know.”
“Hmm, is he still not over his anger after beating me like that?”
“If I were him, I might not be… Anyway, you should hurry. And please, take off that blasted robe.”
“Hmm…”
At Wang Cheon's suggestion, Neung Un-bi hesitated for a moment before taking off the robe without another word.
Needless stubbornness is a shortcut to the grave.
Besides, the bruises from yesterday's beating were still vivid…
“Wang Cheon.”
“Yes?”
“Please, keep this safe for me.”
“...”
“Guard it with your life. No matter what pressure you face, you must not let it be taken. Do you understand?”
Wang Cheon stared at Neung Un-bi in disbelief as he carefully folded the robe and handed it over with a solemn request.
“Third Young Master.”
“What is it?”
“I'm your escort.”
“I have to go with you.”
“Ah!”
Neung Un-bi exclaimed at Wang Cheon's words.
Then where should I hide it? It's the last one I have, and I really want to protect it… It's not like I can't chant the incantation without it, but it would feel empty… If they take it, what will I wear when I escape?
…Should I steal some money for new clothes?
***
The place where the Cult Leader had summoned Neung Un-bi was not his residence, but the Pool of Demonic Spirits.
A small pond located in the center of an open area behind the tower where the Cult Leader resided.
It was the place where Dam Un-cheon had attained enlightenment on the essence of demonic arts while meditating, and it had since become his personal training ground.
Though it was an open space without a single wall, no one could set foot inside without the Cult Leader's permission.
A scraggly tree, a stone lantern, and a pavilion for taking a short rest.
For a sharp blade permeated every corner of the place.
The warriors of the Heavenly Demon Spirit Brigade, the shadows who protected Dam Un-cheon, named after his own title.
Guided by the messenger, Neung Un-bi arrived at the entrance and tilted his head, looking at the figures seated in the distant pavilion.
He wasn't alone.
Sitting next to the Cult Leader, drinking tea, was… the Elder Council Head?
That old man, why was he here? He couldn't understand.
If he was meeting with the Elder Council Head, it should have been in the grand hall or the Cult Leader's residence.
But why a training ground?
It was perfectly natural for a master to instruct his disciple, but hadn't it been a year since that last happened?
Besides, the presence of the Elder Council Head suggested this wasn't about instruction.
“Third Young Master, welcome.”
“Ah, Great Protector. We meet again after just seeing you yesterday.”
At Neung Un-bi's arrival, the one-eyed man standing at the entrance gave a slight nod.
It was a greeting that would be considered incredibly disrespectful toward the Cult Leader's disciple, yet no one would fault him for it.
The man held a rank equal to all others in the Demonic Cult, save for the Cult Leader himself.
Yang Seon, leader of the Heavenly Demon Spirit Brigade.
He was a secretive warrior whose skills were unknown to anyone but the Cult Leader.
It was only natural…
A protector's true worth is only shown when their master is in danger, but the man he guarded was just too strong, wasn't he?
He had probably never faced a crisis in his entire life.
However, according to Wang Cheon, who had been beaten by him often, the Great Protector was terrifyingly strong and merciless…
“Why does my master summon me again when it hasn't even been a day? Seeing the Elder Council Head here as well… Is this about my Daoist act?”
“Third Young Master, how could I possibly know the Cult Leader's profound intentions? You should go and hear the reason for yourself.”
“...Ah, yes. I suppose you're right.”
At the cold, formal tone, Neung Un-bi grumbled as if he'd expected as much and started walking toward the pavilion.
Damn it, why call me two days in a row? If he had something to say, why not say it all at once…
As he grumbled inwardly and took his first step, Yang Seon blocked his path.
“What is it?”
“Your sword.”
“Ah! My apologies. It's become a habit…”
At the brief command, Neung Un-bi unfastened the sword from his waist and handed it to Wang Cheon.
The custom of surrendering one's sword isn't unique to any single sect, is it?
All sects forbid carrying weapons when meeting their leader.
The Demonic Cult is no different. No one except the protectors could wear a weapon before the Cult Leader.
It was a measure to ensure his safety.
Well, it wasn't as if anyone could actually kill the fearsome Cult Leader, even with a sword.
“One more thing.”
Even after handing over his sword to Wang Cheon, Yang Seon did not move aside.
“That robe, too. Take it off.”
“...”
Yang Seon stared intently at his chest as he spoke, and Neung Un-bi's brow furrowed slightly.
Damn it, he saw it?
I had nowhere else to put it, so I wore it underneath…
“It's not something that could threaten my master's safety.”
Neung Un-bi tightened his collar and pouted, but Yang Seon just shook his head indifferently.
“He has high blood pressure. Thanks to you, Third Young Master, it got worse yesterday. It could very well be a threat to his health.”
“...”
He said such ridiculous things with such a straight face.
Faced with Yang Seon, who spoke bluntly without so much as a blink, Neung Un-bi grumbled continuously as he removed the Daoist robe from under his outer clothes.
“This is precious to me.”
“...”
“Please guard it with your life.”
“I will take responsibility for its safekeeping.”
“If you have time, please mend the torn part. It happened during a scuffle with the Protectorate's men. It's a cherished item.”
Watching his retreating back with an impassive expression, Yang Seon's lips twisted slightly as he muttered,
“...I'll see to it.”
Leaving Wang Cheon and Yang Seon behind, Neung Un-bi approached the pavilion alone and bowed politely to the two men conversing there.
“The third, Un-bi, greets the Cult Leader and the Elder Council Head.”
“Oh! Welcome, Third Young Master.”
The Cult Leader merely glanced at him, but the Elder Council Head rushed out to greet him as if welcoming a long-awaited grandson.
The Elder Council Head, Sama Hwi-mun.
He had memories of the man, but this was, in reality, their first meeting.
And this wasn't how the old man was supposed to act…?
The residual emotions in his body instinctively rejected him, telling him a different story.
That behind those kind wrinkles lay contempt and ridicule.
See? Didn't goosebumps rise on his arms the moment he saw him?
And above all, Dam Un-cheon's expression was grim. It was a completely different feeling from yesterday, when his face was filled with worry even as he beat him.
Extremely displeased, and as if he was about to cause trouble at any moment…
This is a bit… no, this is quite dangerous.
*Clink.*
Setting down the teacup he had been sipping from, Dam Un-cheon descended from the pavilion.
“My, Cult Leader. Are you starting already?”
“...?”
Start? Start what?
Confused by Sama Hwi-mun's words, Neung Un-bi tilted his head and looked at Dam Un-cheon.
“What is there to wait for? Un-bi, take your stance.”
“...”
Stance? What stance?
As his confusion deepened.
“From this moment, with the Elder Council Head as a witness, I will test you.”
“...!”
Even then, Neung Un-bi didn't understand the meaning of the Cult Leader's words, but he could sense what he was about to do.
A rough demonic energy was spreading out, enveloping the surroundings.
Ah, no, wait a minute?
Isn't this a bit sudden?
You're clearly about to beat me, at least tell me why! The reason!
Did you see me wearing the robe underneath? Or did Mr. Yang Seon tattle on me with a telepathic message?
“You had best do everything you can. I will not hold back.”
“...”
The ferocious killing intent of the absolute ruler surged forth, as if to say no questions would be permitted.
…Ah, fuck.
I'm never wearing a Daoist robe again.