Spark of Evil
Jeondeungmun. A sect founded five years ago in Hwangcheon County by O Il-sik, the Thunderbolt Escort who had been active in Henan Province. He was more famous as an escort than a warrior, so it started as a martial arts school, but as aspiring escorts flocked in, it eventually became a full-fledged sect.
"What about Deung Go-hyeon?"
The others had taken the Pogeukdan too, but only Deung Go-hyeon had turned into a demon. They'd stopped him from taking the Jamhyeoldan and waited a long time, but no other Jeondeungmun warriors turned. That meant there was something special about Deung Go-hyeon.
"Deung Go-hyeon was a disciple O Il-sik had kept by his side from the very beginning."
"From the beginning?"
"Yes. They say he picked up the child who lost his parents during an escort mission and raised him alone. O Il-sik treasured him especially for that."
"Is it true that O Il-sik was a lay disciple of the Cheongsung faction?"
The Poison Fang Sword nodded.
"He was a disciple of Pung-hyang Gate. He wasn't famous for his swordsmanship at first, but after picking up the Dao, he earned the nickname Thunderbolt Escort."
So, did he start cultivating the demonic arts after picking up the Dao? For a moment, I wondered if something had changed because of me. But from the story, that wasn't the case. Before my regression, O Il-sik had already been active as the Thunderbolt Escort.
That's where my head started to ache. None of the Murim Alliance reports I'd seen mentioned anyone in the righteous faction cultivating demonic arts.
Did they not know? Or did they hide it?
If I was lucky, some bastard had coincidentally learned demonic arts and unluckily run into me. If unlucky...
Just imagining it is horrifying.
In the midst of getting slaughtered by the Demonic Cult during the Great War between righteousness and evil, there had been a demon hiding inside. But oddly, Deung Go-hyeon himself didn't seem to know he'd cultivated demonic arts. What the hell was going on?
"We're here."
At the Poison Fang Sword's words, I looked up to see a splendid signboard.
Jeondeungmun
Had they heard Deung Go-hyeon got taken down? The main gate was wide open, with armed warriors lined up on both sides. As I moved to enter, the Poison Fang Sword grabbed me.
"M-My lord, you're going in alone?"
Why had this guy been using formal speech since earlier? I slapped his hand away.
"Should I lead your Poison Fang Gate disciples in instead?"
"...!"
What the hell? I'd just answered his pointless question, but this vicious-looking bastard suddenly looked moved.
"I-I'll go with you."
"Do whatever."
As we walked between the lined-up Jeondeungmun disciples, a middle-aged man seated on a platform chair stared at the Poison Fang Sword with emotionless eyes.
"What happened to Hyeon...?"
"Heh heh. What do you think happened?"
The Poison Fang Sword replied in a strangely villainous tone. The middle-aged man—presumably O Il-sik—furrowed his brow.
"Is Hyeon dead?"
His expression showed complete surprise. Only then did O Il-sik turn to look at me.
"...So it wasn't because of the Poison Fang Sword that Hyeon died."
Even hearing his cherished disciple was dead, O Il-sik's face showed only irritation, nothing else.
"Who are you?"
The moment I saw O Il-sik's expression, I was certain.
"Jin Sowoon."
He knew about the demonic arts.
#
"Jin Sowoon...? The Black Flame Dragon Jin Sowoon?"
O Il-sik continued questioning without relaxing his furrowed brow.
"I heard you're the top student at the Murim Academy. Why are you with black path scum? Are you really colluding with them?"
I clasped my hands in a fist salute first.
"I have a question for you, sect leader."
"Sect leader...? You're glaring like you want to kill me while observing etiquette?"
"Please understand my eyes. My emotions are getting the better of me right now."
As expected, his expression didn't waver at all.
"Fine. What question do you have at this crucial moment?"
I stared straight into his eyes.
"Did you really send Deung Go-hyeon to the Poison Fang Gate confident he'd win?"
A faint killing intent spread from O Il-sik, revealing his skills surpassed the Poison Fang Sword's. Someone like him would have the insight to gauge the Poison Fang Sword and Deung Go-hyeon's levels. Yet sending Deung Go-hyeon with just a few men didn't make sense.
"I didn't send him. The child went on his own."
Letting a child he raised like his first son walk into danger? Was he trying to weasel out?
"Even knowing he'd die?"
"Did Hyeon... die?"
"Yes."
"Did you kill him?"
O Il-sik's eyes turned fierce for the first time.
"Choose your answer carefully. I'm not directly involved, but I have ties to Cheongsung."
Hard to believe. A lay sect of Cheongsung's lay disciples was practically unrelated. But he probably believed his backing was there somehow.
With or without Cheongsung ties, I was certain now.
"We'll see who needs to answer carefully, sect leader."
His expression finally cracked a bit.
"I saw something unusual in Deung Go-hyeon."
O Il-sik knew. That Deung Go-hyeon, having cultivated demonic arts, couldn't possibly lose to the Poison Fang Sword. That's why he hadn't stopped him from going into danger. What he hadn't predicted was...
"Something unusual?"
My existence.
"One more question. Did you pass on the martial arts you taught Deung Go-hyeon to others as well?"
O Il-sik's eyes twitched faintly.
"What... nonsense is this?"
"Not stopping a weak Deung Go-hyeon from charging into the Poison Fang Gate means you had something to rely on."
I spoke lowly without breaking eye contact.
"Demonic arts?"
"..."
O Il-sik's expression didn't change. Heavy silence stretched on. And then.
"...Ha ha!"
O Il-sik laughed for the first time. His eyes remained dry, not smiling.
"They say the cunning of that kid Jin Sowoon rivals the black path, earning him the Black Flame Dragon title, and it turns out it's true..."
"Shut your mouth!"
Suddenly, the Poison Fang Sword bellowed.
"The Black Flame Dragon isn't like that!"
What the hell are you...?
As I pushed him back in exasperation, he huffed and retreated. O Il-sik spoke again.
"I see... Planning to cover Deung Go-hyeon's death with a false charge of demonic arts?"
He spoke as if he'd seen through everything.
"The Murim Academy's top spot isn't by luck. Truly perceptive."
His praise wasn't pleasant.
"But... do you think that'll work?"
"Evidence already came from Deung Go-hyeon, so don't worry about my safety. Let's talk about you, sect leader. How did you learn the demonic arts?"
"Ridiculous. Is this what a pillar of the righteous Murim does—cover his tracks with a false accusation?"
"Not planning to talk, huh."
I reached back to the Poison Fang Sword behind me.
"Huh?"
Why is he so oblivious?
"Hand over the remaining Pogeukdan."
"Ah, yes. You should've said so."
This bastard's tongue is too long. I showed the Pogeukdan I'd received to O Il-sik.
"Mind taking one?"
"...Everything you do is laughable."
Sneering, O Il-sik stood.
"Did you all hear? He's framing Jeondeungmun to destroy us."
Then.
Ching ching ching ching ching!
"Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
The Jeondeungmun disciples on both sides drew their swords in unison. The Poison Fang Sword stamped his feet behind me amid the murderous aura.
"B-Black Flame Dragon young lord. What now?"
What do you mean what? Handle it step by step.
Shing.
As I drew the Cheokgwanggeom, the Poison Fang Sword paled.
#
Ching ching ching!
Swords clashed, sparks flying. Hands should hurt, but the disciples showed no sign.
"Die!"
I extended my foot at the charging killer. Thud! Two Jeondeungmun disciples rushed to catch the cannonball-like flyer, but couldn't withstand the heavy internal energy and slammed into the wall together. Touching brotherhood.
Not knowing yet who else had demonic arts, I turned the blade away. But it wasn't disadvantageous. Sometimes the flat hurts more than the edge.
Slash, slash! Jeondeungmun disciples clutched wounds like from a sharp whip and collapsed.
"All gather!"
They formed a sword formation and charged. It mimicked Cheongsung's but differed. Cheongsung's flowed freely like wind following their swordsmanship; this was more purposeful. Not balanced offense-defense, but sacrificing for attack.
A formation built on sacrifice from the start...
I wondered if it could function properly, but.
"Argh! Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
Seeing disciples throw themselves for others, it worked.
At least better than ragtag black path mobs.
By the time I'd neutralized nearly twenty.
Something felt off.
Why no fear?
Wondering if lack of blood, I sharpened the blade and attacked.
Slash! Slash! Not fatal, but threatening enough. The marble floor stained red quickly.
Yet.
"J-Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
"Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
Falling ones. Even watching them, others raised sabers without retreating. Why chant that shitty slogan?
Eerie.
People think mastering martial arts removes worldly fears, but it's opposite. Knowing your power level makes the world harsher, scarier. But Jeondeungmun disciples lacked that.
Feeling the oddity, I looked at O Il-sik. He spoke with the same blank eyes.
"Not using killing strikes? Afraid of repercussions?"
You demon bastard. I kicked off the floor toward him.
"What the fuck!"
But.
Tss tss tss. O Il-sik was suddenly among the disciples.
"I may not be famed for martial prowess, but my footwork is confident."
This fucker. I immediately stepped into Tae-eul Paeman Sinbo.
Tss tss tss! Five afterimages trailed as I chased. While disciples swung at illusions, up close, I swung Cheokgwanggeom at him.
"Hup!"
He grabbed a disciple's hair, using him as shield.
Thud! The disciple took the flat to the head, eyes rolling back unconscious.
"J-Jeondeungmun... eternal..."
Meanwhile, O Il-sik poked his head from the other side.
"Oh dear... another precious disciple down. At this rate, Jeondeungmun will be destroyed."
With his mutter-like shout, disciples pulled pills from their bosoms.
"Crazy..."
They swallowed Pogeukdan without hesitation.
Boom boom boom boom boom! Clothes swelled everywhere, white steam billowing as they charged madly.
"Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
"Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
Chanting that shitty slogan.
#
Unlike at Poison Fang Gate. There, they'd recognized White Moon Heaven-Subduing Three Forms' limits and adjusted. But here.
"Graaaah!"
"Die!"
"Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
Jeondeungmun bastards charged recklessly, ignoring their safety.
Thud thud! Cartoon Invincible Fist unfolded, three vomiting blood per form. But Pogeukdan users wiped mouths and stood repeatedly.
This time, I broke arms and legs harder.
Crack! Crack!
"J-Jeondeungmun!!!"
"Jeondeungmun is eternal!"
But instead of screams, that shitty chant as they tried rising. Fuck, really...
Power gap clear, but their tenacity chilled me. Desperate. Like burning bodies for something more precious than life...
Protecting?
Eyes met O Il-sik leisurely amid disciples. He smiled.
"Scared now?"
Petting a disciple's head, he asked.
"Can you kill righteous folk with such noble spirit?"
He hid among them. As I spread senses to find him.
"Uwaaaah!"
A disciple charged for mutual destruction. Dodging saber, I punched.
Splurt! A saber burst from the disciple's gut. Twisting narrowly avoided injury, but robe tore long.
More shocking followed.
"Cough! J-Jeondeungmun is eternal...!"
Gut-pierced disciple eyes widened, swinging his saber again.
...This fucker!
I forcibly deflected the head-splitting downward strike and rolled. Dry voice above.
"Murim Academy top fighting dirty... World's end."
Looking up, O Il-sik shook head, saber withdrawn from disciple's gut. No glance at fallen one. The disciple, dying by lord's hand, gazed desperately at O Il-sik till end, obedient.
"How about it? Go back quietly to your daily life."
"Ha..."
Absurd. That footwork weaving through disciples. Sacrificing comrades without care for purpose. No need to check black pupils—he was gleeful. Proof he was demon.
Showing demon form and telling me to leave? Sorry, no.
I crushed the Pogeukdan in hand. Powder scattered floor.
"Good thinking."
Misinterpreting discard, he grinned wide. I grinned back.
"Dumbass. Playing around."
"...Huh?"
"Just don't need it anymore."
"..."
Now a decent expression. His leisure had been gross.
"Confirmed demon, no need evidence."
"What do you..."
I charged. Ten blocked bodily, but so what.
Boom boom! Air burst, ten flew like cannonballs.
Whatever he'd done, disciples valued O Il-sik over lives. Pity, but no time worry. Letting him escape means more victims.
No hesitation now bolt undone.
Slash!
"Keuk!"
Wrist-severed disciple screamed at spurting stump. At least no shitty chant.
O Il-sik's panicked voice ahead.
"C-Can you take responsibility for this!"
Yeah. Might be issue later. Might clash with Cheongsung. But so what. Better than letting demon go, any cost.
"Fuck off, dumbass!"
Thud thud! One fist sent three flying, closing in. O Il-sik erased leisure, dodged stiffly.
Tss tss tss! I fired Radiant Heaven Divine Palm where he'd appear.
Three disciples swept away, O Il-sik rolled floor.
"H-How!"
"Your footwork is Silver Ghost Form. Fifth step covers six directions."
"Hup!"
As he tried speak, Flying Dragon Claw wrapped neck. Swung Cheokgwanggeom, severed right arm.
"Don't show demonic arts absolutely! Or I'll be troubled after you die. Got it?"
"...W-Wait gak gak!"
Strangled face reddened. Blood rushed one side, fountain from shoulder.
"Oh... Only one hand left. Called Lone Hand Escort now?"
"Guek!"
Breath ragged, finally O Il-sik's eyes turned obsidian black. Stormy aura erupted, body convulsing. I cast Golden Bell Iron Cloth, weighting him.
Seemed breathing moment, then eyelids trembled blocked again. Meanwhile, disciples flew this way.
Ching ching ching. I unfolded Great Heaven Sword Method, severing wrists one by one. Blood sprayed, screams filled Jeondeungmun.
Time hammer nail.
"Poison Fang Sword!"
"Y-Yes!"
"Block them!"
"Huh?!"
Poison Fang Sword, fighting four, forced over. I severed O Il-sik's ankle tendons, punched dantian.
Boom! Burst from abdomen, O Il-sik vomited blood basinful. Loosened Flying Dragon Claw slightly.
"Lost martial arts, but can live. Speak. Where'd demonic arts come from?"
Claw loosened, breathing returned roughly.
Crack! Shattered kneecap, asked again.
"O Il-sik! Where'd you get demonic arts!"
Body shuddered.
"...D-Dem... demon."
Demon what? Demon region?
"What?"
Eyes returned normal. Strangled veins burst, whites bloodshot.
"Heavenly... Demon... Reincarnation, Ten Thousand Demons Nether Chaos!"
Crunch. Shout with mouth crunch, smoke rose. Thrust hand in, but scalding forced withdraw. Skin peeled short time. Then flames engulfed O Il-sik's body.
"Fuck..."
Ma fire, sickeningly familiar from Great War.