Chapter 1036
The Lama Monk was breathing heavily, as if his next breath might be his last.
His face was gaunt to the extreme, his lips cracked as though he hadn't swallowed a drop of water in days, and his complexion was deathly pale.
Yet despite his labored breathing, his gaze remained clear and sharp—unwavering in its brilliance—proof that even now, he had not lost the dignity and noble bearing of a venerable monk who had spent his entire life in ascetic discipline.
However, his tattered gray robes were stained with splotches of crimson blood,
mixed with dirt and dried gore, leaving his appearance utterly wretched.
'This is no ordinary injury.'
Jin Seol immediately recognized that this elderly Lama Monk
had suffered grave wounds from the attack of a martial master of formidable skill. She cautiously asked,
"Who are you?"
"I apologize for this intrusion."
Despite his condition, the Lama Monk pressed his palms together in a respectful greeting upon noticing Jin Seol's approach.
"This old monk's injuries are severe, and I fear I have trespassed over your walls without meaning to."
Though his wounds were deep enough to expose bone in places, and his body was caked in dust,
his posture remained composed, and his voice and gaze carried an effortless authority.
Sensing that this monk was no ordinary figure, Jin Seol extended her hand politely.
"Let me tend to your wounds first."
"There is no need. I shall rest a moment to steady my breath and then be on my way..."
When the monk declined, Jin Seol replied calmly,
"Since you've already trespassed, would it not be permissible to trespass once more?"
The monk noticed that Jin Seol's eyes were exceptionally clear,
and that an air of nobility suffused her entire being. He smiled faintly, then nodded.
"Then I shall impose upon you further."
Jin Seol led the monk to her quarters and began treating him.
This estate was a private retreat reserved only for high-ranking officials of the Demon Hall, so it was well-stocked with usable medicines.
She applied Golden Wound Medicine to his injuries, wrapped them in clean bandages, then dissolved a Spirit Ascension Elixir in water and helped him drink it.
"You do not seem to be a physician, yet you are quite skilled in treatment."
At the monk's words, Jin Seol replied in a low voice,
"In the past, I once assisted a renowned physician and picked up some knowledge of healing by observation."
Before taking on her duties as the Upper Blossom,
she had briefly studied medicine under the Medicine King Faction Lord, Gyo Jung-hak, and cared for patients.
But judging by the monk's dignified bearing,
it was clear he would despise the Demonic Path, so she avoided mentioning her affiliation and gave only this vague explanation.
"I see."
Then, cautiously, he asked,
"Why does one so young lead such a lonely life in this remote estate?"
This estate was precisely the kind of place
suited for those weary of the world or retired from the martial arts—
isolated and surrounded by desolate scenery.
"It is merely a temporary dwelling."
The monk noticed the deep furrow between Jin Seol's brows and the sorrow in her eyes, then offered a benevolent smile.
"This old monk has asked an unnecessary question. When one grows old... one speaks thoughtlessly without restraint. I hope you will forgive me."
Then, in a gentle voice, he added,
"Judging by your face, though you suffer hardship now, all will be resolved before long."
"Does Your Eminence also read fortunes?"
"What is there to reading fortunes?"
The monk chuckled warmly.
"When you've lived long enough and seen enough faces, you simply come to know these things."
A faint smile touched Jin Seol's dry lips.
This elderly monk appeared well over a hundred years old, yet his voice brimmed with vitality, and his words carried a playful wit.
"Now that this old monk's body has recovered somewhat..."
He tried to rise, but his body swayed unsteadily.
Though the Spirit Ascension Elixir was a miraculous medicine capable of healing both internal and external injuries,
it had the drawback of overwhelming side effects.
"Rest your eyes for a while."
The monk tried to refuse,
but his injuries were severe, and having exhausted all his energy, the elixir's effects left him too drowsy to move.
"Then I shall trouble you further."
With those words, he sank into a deep slumber.
Thud.
But just as the monk fell asleep, a small wooden case tumbled from his robes.
Jin Seol picked it up without much thought and placed it on the table.
Then she noticed a faint glow emanating from the case.
"What is this?"
Carefully, she opened it.
Inside lay a small key embedded with a jewel.
The glow was coming from the jewel itself.
'This is no ordinary object.'
When she lightly touched the key, the glow from the jewel intensified.
Realizing it was a mystical treasure, she carefully closed the case and set it back on the table.
As Jin Seol stepped outside the pavilion,
a shadow clad in black robes knelt on one knee, bowing deeply in reverence.
"Lady Jin."
It was Yang Jung, the Pavilion Lord of the Ghost Pavilion, who had been secretly guarding the estate under the orders of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor.
"You should not have allowed a suspicious outsider into this estate."
His martial prowess was extraordinary—he had already discerned that Jin Seol had brought an outsider inside.
'There was no helping it.'
It was one thing for the Lama Monk to have entered the estate unnoticed, but he had made noise upon landing.
What was astonishing, however, was that Yang Jung had detected it despite being over a hundred zhang away.
"I will handle this matter myself."
Though Jin Seol had not requested any escorts when coming here, the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had assigned guards on his own initiative.
In the past, she might have been moved by the thought that he cared enough to keep an eye on her.
But now, it only felt like he had assigned people to watch her.
"Please don't report this matter to His Excellency. It would only needlessly trouble him."
"Understood."
Yang Jung bowed respectfully before quietly turning away.
But he was not Jin Seol's servant—he was the Demonic Heavenly Emperor's subordinate.
An unforeseen situation was slowly unfolding, yet she remained completely unaware.
"Release the messenger hawk."
Once Jin Seol had left, Yang Jung spoke in a low voice.
"Inform them that Upper Blossom Jin has brought a suspicious outsider into the estate, and we will handle it as per His Excellency's orders."
The Demonic Heavenly Emperor had given strict instructions: if any suspicious individuals entered the estate, they were to be dealt with immediately.
But Yang Jung was cautious—and knowing the Demonic Heavenly Emperor's temperament, he intended to report once more before acting.
[Understood.]
A low, deferential reply echoed from the void.
Yang Jung stared for a long moment at the residence where Jin Seol was staying before finally turning away.
Jin Seol sat on her bed and began circulating her qi.
Her method of qi circulation differed from the standard seated meditation—her index and middle fingers were pressed together, her right knee raised toward the sky.
This was something the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had taught her.
By simultaneously employing the Voidless Contemplation Art and the Misty Sea Tracking Heart Method, she could strengthen both her spirit and mind and her internal energy.
'I thought that if my martial arts grew stronger and the barriers of my spirit and mind solidified, I might recover my lost memories.'
During her time in the estate, she had forsaken sleep in favor of qi circulation and meditation—all in the desperate hope that she might reclaim what had been taken from her.
'But in the end... it was impossible.'
If the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had deliberately altered or destroyed her memories...
No mind-training formula or heart method, no matter how profound, could restore them.
The Sky of the Demonic Path did not make mistakes.
'Then...'
That thought soon gave way to doubt.
If the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had intentionally erased her memories...
Could the heart-calming techniques he had taught her truly be complete?
Bzzz.
It was nothing more than a fleeting thought—but during qi circulation, even the slightest distraction could lead to spiritual collapse.
Bzzz.
The longer she persisted, the more uncontrollably her internal breath became disordered. A sinister vibration coiled around her ears.
Unconsciously rejecting the heart method the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had taught her, the backlash began corroding her body and mind in full.
'I must suppress these doubts.'
Jin Seol desperately forced down her suspicions and distracting thoughts.
But just as it was difficult to retract a martial stance once unleashed, shaking off the doubts that had taken root in her heart was nearly impossible.
Thud.
Finally, a fissure formed in her spirit and mind—and her inner demon manifested.
Thump. Thud.
Thick veins bulged across her body like writhing worms.
If this continued, not only would her lifelong accumulation of internal power vanish, but her spirit and mind would shatter entirely—reducing her to a mindless husk.
Whoosh!
The energy erupting from her dantian surged violently, transforming into scorching heat that threatened to incinerate every last one of her meridians.
'I'm going to die here.'
Jin Seol sensed death approaching.
Escaping an inner demon that manifested during qi circulation was next to impossible.
To make matters worse, the blazing heat rising from her dantian was already erasing her nerves and senses.
'I... can't see.'
The tangled mess of her qi and blood, the agony of her flesh burning—it all vanished abruptly as her vision darkened into pitch-black.
She couldn't even scream.
Her breath grew thinner, her consciousness hazier.
Death.
She had never imagined arriving at life's final destination so meaninglessly.
'No—'
Just as her soul was about to be sucked into an endless void—
Huuuum.
Suddenly, a cool yet warm energy spread from behind her.
That energy began gently settling the chaotic, rampaging true qi within Jin Seol.
Then, the darkness shrouding her vision slowly brightened.
Huuuum.
The soothing energy flowing into her from behind gradually expelled the scorching heat enveloping her body.
Like a clear stream pouring into raging flames, the turbulent currents of energy began to stabilize, one by one.
Jin Seol turned her head.
There—where the old monk should have been in a deep slumber—
He had his hand pressed against her Life Gate Acupoint, channeling his internal power into her.
"How...?"
Jin Seol asked in shock.
Hadn't the old monk collapsed in critical condition, falling unconscious?
How had he recovered so completely in less than the time it took to finish a meal?
"The body of a Dharma Heaven Golden Immortal is quite convenient. Not only do shallow wounds heal in an instant... but even a brief nap is as restorative as a full day's sleep."
'Martial Extreme Realm.'
Jin Seol's eyes widened in astonishment.
This decrepit old monk... was a master who had reached the Martial Extreme Realm, the pinnacle of martial arts?
"Focus your mind. The energy within you has not yet been fully stabilized."
Jin Seol nodded and concentrated, resuming her qi circulation.
But because her doubts remained unresolved—
The Voidless Contemplation Art and Misty Sea Tracking Heart Method, which had always allowed her to swiftly unify her internal energy, now felt unbearably uncomfortable.
'There's no choice for now.'
She forced her true qi to move, forcibly regulating the energy within her.
Fortunately, the true qi the old monk was transmitting enveloped hers like an ocean—
And slowly, her internal energy began to stabilize.
"It seems you've passed the crisis."
As the old monk withdrew his hand, sweating, Jin Seol bowed her head.
"Thank you."
Bzzz.
But then—a faint light began seeping from her hands.
The same hue as the glow that had emanated from the bead attached to the key earlier.
'Why is there light coming from my hands...?'
Just as Jin Seol, who had been staring down at her hands, was about to faint from shock—
"Ho? So you are of the Sacred Realm's bloodline."
The old monk spoke with an utterly unfazed expression, as though it were nothing noteworthy.
"Starweave Immortal—does he still live on like an undying celestial? I cannot fathom why he would leave his granddaughter alone in such a distant manor."
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
Jin Seol's face twisted in bewilderment as she asked,
"What exactly is this 'Sacred Realm' you speak of?"
The monk frowned as though puzzled.
"You mean to say you are not of the Sacred Realm?"
"I don't even know what the Sacred Realm is supposed to be."
"That cannot be."
The monk shook his head.
"Those born with the qi of the Sun-Moon Divine Ones and the cosmic transformations—none but the descendants of Starweave possess such a thing."
"But I—"
She faltered, flustered.
Did that mean she was of the bloodline of this so-called Sacred Realm?
Seeing Jin Seol's bewildered expression, the monk softened his gaze and spoke kindly.
"Might I ask the benefactor's standing?"
"I—"
Jin Seol hesitated.
What even was her standing now?
A former Upper Blossom of the Demon Hall? Or the discarded adopted daughter of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor?
"I am merely—"
Just as she tried to continue—
Stagger.
A sudden wave of dizziness struck her, and she swayed unsteadily.
That inexplicable energy again.
It surged from her dantian straight up to the Hundred Meetings acupoint in an instant.
"Ah, dear."
The monk clicked his tongue and steadied her.
"Why do you not regulate your qi with the Sacred Realm's secret arts?"
"I truly don't understand what you mean."
Jin Seol's lips were turning pale.
"I have no connection whatsoever to this 'Sacred Realm' you speak of."
The energy spreading through her body grew increasingly violent, as though her blood were boiling and evaporating.
She forced herself to circulate her qi, but it only further agitated the rampaging energy.
"Impossible."
Sensing the intense heat radiating from Jin Seol's body, the monk shook his head again.
"That energy cannot be controlled by ordinary Internal Energy Methods."
"But I—"
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Though her body burned as if engulfed in flames, she shivered as though plunged into an icy cavern.
"Most perplexing."
Shaking his head, the monk channeled his True Qi into her once more and said,
"Now, follow the incantation this old monk recites. It may not be perfect, but it should help you regulate that energy."
And so, he began imparting to Jin Seol an Internal Energy secret technique spanning over a thousand characters.
The scripture itself was not excessively long, but each word carried profound and intricate principles.
Even for someone like her—possessing an extraordinary mind capable of memorizing entire books in a single glance—
Strangely, she found it difficult to commit the thousand-character incantation to memory all at once.
"Ah, so you've trained in ancient Internal Energy esoterica."
Only then did the monk realize that the method Jin Seol employed was a long-lost, supreme Internal Energy art from antiquity.
He sighed heavily.
"Such an abstruse method may enhance martial prowess, but it renders one incapable of wielding cosmic transformation qi."
"......"
"Would that you had never learned it at all."
Muttering under his breath, the monk increased his inner strength, suppressing the surging energy within Jin Seol's body.
Huuuung.
At last, the scorching heat radiating from Jin Seol's body subsided once more.
But thick beads of sweat now dotted the monk's forehead.
He had expended an immense amount of True Qi to save her.
"Why would you bestow such great kindness upon me?"
Realizing that the monk had sacrificed his hard-earned inner strength for her sake, Jin Seol bowed deeply in reverence.
"If you would grant me your Dharma name, I swear to repay this debt in the future."
"Did you not also save this old monk?"
The monk smiled benevolently.
"What worth is this shriveled old body's True Qi, anyway?"
"But—"
"There is no debt between us, so trouble yourself not over trifles."
Mere wound treatment and the sharing of Primordial Essence True Qi—something akin to life force itself—could never be equivalent.
Yet the monk spoke as casually as though he had merely shared the last scrap of a dumpling from his pocket.
"This old monk has recovered well enough, so I shall take my leave now."
He was eager to depart the manor, lest Jin Seol feel burdened.
But his internal injuries had not fully healed, and the exertion of saving her had drained his strength.
The moment he turned, his body swayed unsteadily again.
"Venerable Monk."
Jin Seol quickly stopped him and said,
"This manor is well-stocked with fine medicines."
Then she pleaded earnestly,
"Please rest here until you've fully recovered."
"If this old monk stays, you too may be placed in danger."
"The defensive formations and guards stationed here make it impossible for anyone to intrude lightly."
The monk hesitated briefly.
Truthfully, having expended his inner strength to save Jin Seol, the internal injuries he had barely suppressed had resurfaced.
Even his Movement Technique was now difficult to employ.
And as she said, the manor seemed protected by mysterious battle formations and guards of formidable martial prowess...
Staying one more day would do no harm.
"Then I shall impose upon you once more."
"Before that—your Dharma name, Venerable Monk."
"Takma."
The monk, Takma, replied plainly.
"I lead a minor branch of the Dharma Wheel Sect—the Vulture Peak Celestial Burial Platform, Secret Gate of Pure Land."
"The Nothingness Sect."
Jin Seol's eyes widened.
Even the most ignorant of those unfamiliar with the martial world beyond the frontier would know of the esoteric Tibetan Buddhism's founder—the Nothingness Sect.
"So you are the Patriarch of the Nothingness Sect."
To call the Patriarch of the Nothingness Sect the greatest master in Tibet would be no exaggeration.
"The Nothingness Sect's Internal Energy Method, the Primordial Chaos Secret Art, is unparalleled under heaven."
The Primordial Chaos Subtle Qi cultivated through it possesses a power even more mysterious than internal energy.
However, that profound secret art is passed down in utmost secrecy, transmitted only to a single successor—only the sect leader of the Nothingness Sect can master it.
Outside the upper echelons of the martial world who knew the truth, the reputation of the Nothingness Sect was not widely known in the Central Plains.
"Did you... impart the Primordial Chaos Secret Art to me?"
Jin Seol bit her lip.
The thousand-character internal energy secret art Takma had just transmitted to her—
He had unreservedly poured into her the highest secret art of the Nothingness Sect, passed down in strict secrecy.
"Do not worry. I only extracted and transmitted the portion necessary to treat your injuries."
The old monk, Takma, looked at Jin Seol's startled expression and joked lightly.
"Though it's a pity—since the donor is a woman, even if she shaved her head, she couldn't become the leader of this sect."
"I have been discourteous, Great Master."
Even if the martial world beyond the frontier and the Central Plains were separate—
The sect leader of the Tibetan Nothingness Sect could be considered equal in status to the Buddhist Venerable, the most revered figure in the current martial world.
And yet, he had unreservedly transmitted both the secret art and his True Qi to save a young woman he had never met before.
"First, follow me."
To allow Takma, who was drenched in cold sweat, to quietly recover—
Jin Seol guided him to a secluded chamber in the estate, shielded from outside noise.
She then prepared clear water, spirit medicine to treat internal injuries, and lit a Clear Heart Incense to purify the mind and spirit.
"Thank you."
Takma, struggling to cross his legs in the lotus position, offered a faint smile.
"Then, I shall trouble you once more."
In an instant, he entered the State of Circulatory Meditation, and white steam rose from the crown of his head like a boiling cauldron.
Jin Seol closed the door with a worried expression.
Since he was the sect leader of the Nothingness Sect, possessing the greatest internal energy under heaven, he should be able to easily treat his injuries.
But he had sacrificed his True Qi—that was the only thing weighing on her mind.
A day later, Takma emerged from the chamber.
Whether he had properly treated his injuries or not, his complexion had improved, and his hunched back had straightened.
Yet, the faint energy lingering between his brows remained.
"Your body hasn't fully recovered."
When Jin Seol made a concerned expression, Takma shook his head.
"That is not an injury—it is an ailment I acquired long ago after being struck by a terrifying demonic technique."
Jin Seol's expression turned strange.
Who could have unleashed a demonic technique so formidable that even the greatest master of Tibet, who had reached the Martial Extreme Realm, could not dispel it?
But right now, such things were not important to her.
"Great Master, there is something I wish to ask. Please do not refuse me an answer."
"Speak."
"Yesterday, you called me a descendant of the Sacred Realm."
Then, cautiously, she asked—
"Just what kind of sect is the Sacred Realm?"
Takma's expression turned troubled.
Since she possessed the Sacred Cloud Harmonizing Qi, he had naturally assumed she was of the Sacred Realm's bloodline.
But what if she had no connection to the Sacred Realm? Then his careless words might bring harm upon her.
"That... It seems this old monk has made a mistake."
He spoke with an awkward expression.
"Please forget what I said about you being a descendant of the Sacred Realm."
Jin Seol was so frustrated she could scream, but she suppressed her emotions.
"Understood."
Then, earnestly, she said—
"But please, at least tell me what the Sacred Realm is."
"Why do you ask?"
Jin Seol couldn't bring herself to say she was the adopted daughter of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor, so she spoke carefully.
"I have my reasons."
After a moment of contemplation, Takma sighed and spoke.
"If this old monk was not mistaken, the energy flowing through your body yesterday was one that only the bloodline of the Sacred Realm—a mysterious sect—can wield."
"A mysterious sect."
"Indeed. Thanks to that energy, they can unleash spells that ordinary martial artists could never master in their lifetime—and wield treasures like the Creation Sun and Moon, the greatest artifacts in the martial world, which ordinary mortals cannot even touch."
"I see."
"However..."
Takma's expression grew uneasy.
"As I said earlier, if a martial artist unrelated to that sect learns of its name, they will suffer misfortune. That is why it is difficult for me to speak in detail."
"You mean the Sacred Realm?"
"Correct. If you do not know of the Sacred Realm, you must never utter that word. If you do, you will invite great calamity."
Jin Seol's heart pounded.
'Could it be... that I am of the Sacred Realm's bloodline?'
If even the sect leader of the Nothingness Sect hesitated to speak of it, then it must be an extraordinary sect.
If so, it might be of benefit to the Demonic Heavenly Emperor.
Perhaps he had kept her close precisely because she was of the Sacred Realm's bloodline.
"Great Master, the truth is... I have lost my memories."
Jin Seol spoke honestly.
"I have no recollection of anything before the age of seven."
Takma's expression turned strange.
"If you only lost memories before the age of seven, then someone must have deliberately tampered with them."
Takma's eyes narrowed.
"To erase memories of a specific period like that... only someone who..."
But he did not finish his sentence. His expression suddenly stiffened.
Then, with a deep sigh, he muttered—
"Was this, too, a trap set by Hall Master Sado?"
Jin Seol was startled.
"What do you mean by that?"
Takma stared intently into Jin Seol's clear eyes, then shook his head.
"The organization you were briefly part of... it must have been the Demon Hall. You are a key figure within it."
"How did you—?"
"Those approaching this place now... those carrying such a murderous aura—who else could they be but the subordinates of Sado Mu-myeong?"
Sssk—sssk—
Only then did Jin Seol sense it—
Faint movements around the pavilion, accompanied by sharp waves of killing intent.
It was unmistakably the presence of warriors from the Ghost Pavilion.
'No way...'
Realizing the situation, she spoke to Takma.
"There seems to be some misunderstanding. Please wait a moment."
Then she stepped outside.
Dozens of martial artists, gripping sharp swords, had surrounded the pavilion as if laying siege.
A middle-aged man clad in shimmering black martial robes stood imposingly before them.
It was none other than Yang Jung, leader of the Ghost Pavilion.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Jin Seol demanded, her face dark with anger.
"Surely the Hall Lord did not order you to kill me?"
"In the end, that is indeed how it shall be."
"What did you say?"
"That monk has long been a target pursued by our hall," Yang Jung replied.
A frigid glint of killing intent flashed in his eyes.
"It is an absolute decree passed down since ancient times—any who make contact with that monk must be slain without exception."