The Sacrificial Lamb
The Demonic Cult was an outer realm faction headquartered deep within the Hundred Thousand Mountains to the northwest of the Central Plains.
Long ago, there had been contact between the Cult and the martial factions of the Central Plains, but some three hundred years prior, all exchanges had been severed for reasons lost to time. Legends told of the Demonic Cult suffering a crushing defeat at the hands of the Central Plains Murim, forcing them to seal their gates—spared from annihilation only on the condition that they never again set foot into the civilized heartland.
Yet three hundred years was a long time. Today's Demonic Cult was a clan steeped in blood: creatures driven solely by primal instinct, where only the strong survived and the weak were culled without mercy. They were nothing more than savage pillagers lurking beyond the borders, eyeing the Central Plains with ravenous ambition. Wily, insidious, and utterly without honor...
"If you can move, pull your own weight."
Ungrateful, treacherous...
"How long are you gonna keep stealing my food?"
"..."
Woon-hyeon was rendered utterly speechless. No, to be precise, he simply had nothing to say in his defense.
Every word out of the child's mouth was true.
Granted, someone had been supplying an ample surplus of provisions, but that food had been meant for the little girl from the start. All this time, the child had been sharing her own rations with him.
Ungrateful?
Was it really the Demonic Cult that was ungrateful here—or was it him?
I was out of line.
Even if she was a child of the beastly Demonic Cult, she was still the savior who had preserved his life. Harboring such contempt was no way to treat one's benefactor.
"I apologize," he conceded. "You are entirely right. Starting tomorrow, I shall go out and procure food myself."
The child let out a little snort.
She toddled over, plopped down onto the wooden porch beside him, and thrust a rice ball toward him just as she did every day. Woon-hyeon accepted it, his gaze drifting to the wicker basket at her side. Today, as always, it was brimming with an assortment of strange, unfamiliar wild greens.
"Where is it you wander off to every day?"
"The mountain."
"And what takes you up the mountain?"
"Just 'cause. I'm bored."
"So you go out foraging for medicinal herbs."
"Medicinal herbs?"
"Those plants right there," Woon-hyeon said, gesturing with his chin toward her basket.
Most were varieties he had never seen before, yet among the sprigs she dragged home, precious medicinal herbs were regularly mingled in. Considering how miraculously light and refreshed his body felt after consuming whatever she fed him, the rest of the greenery was likely medicinal as well.
"It is quite remarkable. You claim not to know what herbs are, yet you return with them every single time."
"I just pick the weeds that smell nice."
"Smell nice?"
The girl nodded, a stray grain of rice stuck near the corner of her mouth. "There are tons of things in the mountain that smell good. Finding them is fun."
Ho-oh.
"It seems you possess an extraordinary nose."
Distinguishing medicinal herbs by scent alone? He had never heard of anyone with such a gift in modern times, though he had read of it in ancient texts. In antiquity, the divine physician known as Baekyak Seonsaeng was said to possess an olfactory sense so acute that despite being blind, he could identify anything by smell.
They say Baekyak Seonsaeng was also peerless at harvesting herbs.
Woon-hyeon did not know precisely how a heightened sense of smell helped distinguish benign herbs from deadly poisons, but it clearly was not impossible.
"Tomorrow, I think I shall accompany you."
"You're coming with me?"
"Indeed."
"Suit yourself!" the girl blurted out, flicking her head away as if she couldn't care less.
Yet the way her little legs swung back and forth and the faint grin tugging at her lips betrayed her excitement at having company. In that moment, she was nothing more than an ordinary child. Neither beast nor savage plunderer—just an innocent little girl.
"Come to think of it, I do not know your name or age."
"Huh?"
"How old are you?"
"Don't know."
"You don't know?"
Did her parents never bother to tell her?
"I think I counted up to five once, but after that I forgot. It's been a really long time since I forgot, though." The girl spread her fingers as if attempting to count, then tilted her head. "Was it five plus five?"
Watching her struggle with the concept, Woon-hyeon chose not to press further and shifted his question. "Then what is your name? Mine is Woon-hyeon."
"Yeon-woo. Lee Yeon-woo."
"Lee Yeon-woo... A lovely name. Did your parents give it to you?"
At that casual inquiry, a subtle shadow crossed the child's face.
"...?"
Yeon-woo stared at Woon-hyeon for a long, quiet moment before suddenly hopping down from the porch. Grabbing her wicker basket, she pattered off toward the back of the house with quick, scurrying steps and did not return.
Woon-hyeon stared down the path leading behind the house for a long while before realizing his blunder.
Ah.
"I have erred..."
Tap, patter, tap—
Woon-hyeon matched Yeon-woo's brisk pace as he followed her up the mountain. Though his internal energy remained sealed, his body had been honed through decades of relentless martial training; keeping up with the stride of a young child was effortless.
"Smells good!"
Every so often as they climbed, Yeon-woo would dart off into the underbrush, reemerging moments later clutching a medicinal root or a handful of wild berries. Her nose was even sharper than he had imagined.
"Hmm."
Leaving Yeon-woo to rummage through the thicket where she had once again vanished, Woon-hyeon focused on sensing his surroundings.
"Pulling my weight, is it?"
If one had the strength to move, earning one's keep was only natural. Having lived a life treated with utmost reverence as the head of a great clan, he had forgotten such basic obligations for far too long.
Rustle...
From a short distance away came the faint stirring of wildlife. Woon-hyeon's hand drifted to the hilt of the sword at his waist. Beneath his half-lidded gaze, his eyes flashed with razor-sharp intent.
Crackle, crackle—
Over the crackling flames, chunks of rabbit and wild fowl sizzled into a mouthwatering golden-brown. As dusk settled, the savory aroma of roasting meat filled the entire yard.
I haven't lost my touch.
He had worried that hunting after such a long convalescence would prove difficult, but his body felt remarkably nimble.
All thanks to Yeon-woo.
Woon-hyeon plucked a thoroughly roasted rabbit leg from the fire. Turning to offer it to the girl, he abruptly froze.
"Gah—!"
A sharp gasp escaped him.
Yeon-woo was crouched right beside him, drool streaming down her chin in an unbroken waterfall. Her eyes were locked onto the roasted meat in his grip with absolute, terrifying fixity.
Glancing between the rabbit leg and the child, Woon-hyeon offered it forward.
Yeon-woo looked up at him, still dripping drool. "Can I eat it?"
"Eat as much as your heart desires."
What followed happened in the blink of an eye. Snatching the meat clean from his fingers, Yeon-woo tore into the drumstick like a starving beast. Watching her gorge with unabashed joy, Woon-hyeon picked up another skewer for himself.
"Hand me the salt, if you will. Sprinkling some while roasting will enhance the flavor."
"Here."
As he dusted salt over the meat sizzling above the embers, Woon-hyeon observed the child feasting. Somewhere along the way, sharing a meal with her had ceased to feel the slightest bit awkward. In fact, it was a strange feeling—it seemed that now, having to eat without each other would leave a lingering emptiness.
"I noticed from the very first day, but you truly love your food, don't you?"
"'Cause I starved to death."
"Haha, have you ever truly known hunger deep enough to starve to death?"
"I'm always hungry! Back then, and right now too!"
"Yet someone has been delivering food to you, haven't they?"
"That's only been lately. Mom sold me not that long ago."
Woon-hyeon's brow furrowed. Was she jesting?
"Sold...? Did you say your mother sold you?"
Yeon-woo tore off another massive bite of meat and nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Said she's gonna use the money to go live in the Central Plains. Heard there's way tastier food there than out here."
"What?!"
A parent sold her own flesh and blood? And to make matters worse, abandoned the child all alone and left?
Having grown up in the cherished shelter of the great Namgoong Clan, the notion of a mother discarding her own child was an atrocity beyond Woon-hyeon's comprehension.
Flustered and deeply shaken, Woon-hyeon shifted to face her directly. "T-To whom did she sell you? Surely not to the man who brings your meals each day?"
"To his master."
"Master? He has a master?"
"Yeah. Super rich! His house is huge, too!"
"This is hardly the time to marvel at wealth! Why in the world did that man purchase you?!"
A mother selling her child was monstrous enough, but what twisted purpose could a man have for buying a little girl?
"Said he's gonna send me to the Demon Dragon Hall instead of a kid from his own clan."
"The Demon Dragon Hall...?"
"They told me it's a place where you take a test to become the Heavenly Demon. I don't really know what a Heavenly Demon is, but they said you become somebody really important."
Woon-hyeon's jaw dropped.
He had heard tales of it. In the Demonic Cult, young children were gathered and subjected to brutal trials to weed out the weak and preserve only the strongest. From those select few, the strongest would again be sifted, battle after battle, until the ultimate survivor claimed the throne of the Heavenly Demon. It was the Cult's ruthless method of selecting their supreme leader, governed strictly by the law of the jungle.
Yet something did not add up.
"Why would they send you in their child's stead?"
Would not any member of the Demonic Cult desire to become the Heavenly Demon? If it was a trial to crown the supreme ruler, it was an opportunity of supreme honor. Why would anyone pay a fortune to buy an outside child just to surrender that chance?
"They said everyone who goes there dies."
"What did you say...?"
"Every kid their clan sent before died. So they're sending me instead. Because they wanna protect their own clan's kids."
Only then did all the pieces fall into place.
A young child living completely alone without parents.
The mysterious figure delivering rations day after day.
The demonic cultivation manuals stacked inside the cottage.
In short... Yeon-woo is a sacrificial lamb.
He did not know what form the trials took, nor what cruel horrors awaited inside. But the Demonic Cult was fundamentally a realm where only the strong survived and the weak were discarded—an inhuman domain where the frail were not even treated as people. In their crucible to cull the weak, the deaths of young children, the most defenseless of all, would be regarded as nothing more than natural consequence.
And if there was a mandatory quota requiring clans to send their youth...
A clan might well purchase another child to serve as a scapegoat, shielding their own flesh and blood from slaughter.
Yeon-woo was the tragic victim of that very corruption.
An outrage that defies the heavens itself...!
Could those capable of such depravity even be called human? Truly, they were fiends masquerading in human skin.
However...
Now that he knew the truth, he could not simply stand by and watch.
"Yeon-woo."
"Yeah?"
Yeon-woo turned back to him. Her round, blinking eyes glistened with total, unsuspecting innocence.
"Come with me to the Central Plains."