Pride and Sloth (6)
All the formations drawn in the air lost their power and crumbled away with a faint hiss.
The destructive force that had swelled as if ready to erupt lost its direction, scattered, and evaporated into nothing.
Coughing up blood, So Ji-myeong knelt on the ground and barely managed to speak.
“Why?”
No matter how powerful a martial artist might be, once their heart was pierced, death was inevitable.
Yet So Ji-myeong’s eyes desperately fixed on Seomun Hwan.
“Why… would someone like me… lose to a bastard like you…?”
His voice burned with extreme rage, yet at the same time carried a desperate plea.
A question more unbearable than death itself.
“How… how did I lose?”
Seomun Hwan slowly approached him.
“Pfft! So that’s what you’re dying to know?”
“I am the Phantom Demon. The greatest of all time… How could I end up like this…”
So Ji-myeong’s fingertips scraped against the ground, trembling violently. Even on the threshold of death, he refused to accept it.
Before him, Seomun Hwan…
“You think you’re the Phantom Demon? Are you certain?”
His voice was low but firm. Those few words twisted So Ji-myeong’s face.
“…What did you say?”
Seomun Hwan looked down at his face and smiled slowly.
Then, staring straight into his eyes, he spoke clearly.
“I am also the Phantom Demon. Just like you, I am a reincarnation born from a fragment of the Phantom Demon’s soul.”
“W-what are you…”
So Ji-myeong’s eyes widened in disbelief.
At that moment, Seomun Hwan’s eyes began to glow, radiating a mysterious energy.
He had activated the Hyeonwon-geuman.
“Wh-what?!”
So Ji-myeong shuddered as if lightning had struck his mind.
Just as Seomun Hwan had realized the truth upon seeing the Hwanma-gwilyun, the sight of the Mysterious Golden Eye seemed to awaken forgotten memories within So Ji-myeong.
“The Ihon-daebeop… it wasn’t complete?”
Only now did he understand the truth, but it was far too late.
Seomun Hwan spoke with a sneer full of contempt.
“To get drunk on power and go around bragging to everyone that you’re the Phantom Demon’s reincarnation… Tsk! How pathetic.”
“……!!”
So Ji-myeong received a shock so great it felt as if all the breath had been stolen from his lungs.
The absolute sense of superiority and pride he had carried all this time shattered into pieces in an instant.
“Something so… ridiculous…”
So Ji-myeong clutched at his chest with a trembling hand.
His destroyed heart had already stopped beating long ago.
“I…”
The light of life was fading from So Ji-myeong’s eyes.
“…only came this far for…”
His head fell forward and hit the ground.
In the moment of his death, only the agony of realizing the truth remained vivid in his gaze.
“Whew!”
Only then could Seomun Hwan let out a long sigh.
His breathing was ragged.
His body was covered in blood, every muscle screamed in pain, and both his arms and legs felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton.
“I really almost died there.”
Seomun Hwan slowly sheathed his sword and began to steady his breath in the air thick with the stench of blood.
“If I had fought him head-on, I never would have won.”
So Ji-myeong had already obtained an enormous amount of yokai power through the Hwanma-gwilyun.
Compared to that, Seomun Hwan’s own internal energy was sorely lacking.
He had no choice but to wait for the moment when the bastard let his guard down.
His judgment had been correct.
So Ji-myeong had been far too confident.
As if victory was only natural.
As if he were invincible.
The very moment he laughed while imagining Seomun Hwan kneeling before him, his heart had been pierced.
‘I knew it wouldn’t be easy…’
In his previous life, the Phantom Demon had been colder and more cautious than anyone.
A man who never lost his composure no matter the situation, who never acted rashly.
Someone who always read the numbers first and never left any openings.
‘Yet it succeeded far more easily than I expected.’
So Ji-myeong had grown increasingly violent and increasingly arrogant.
It was as if someone had cut the reins that once held his emotions in check.
‘Is it because our environments were different?’
Just as he himself was not the same as in his previous life, So Ji-myeong must have had differences as well.
The youngest son of a merchant family and the seventh disciple of the Mosan Sect would naturally have grown up under completely different circumstances.
So Ji-myeong was someone who had grown up believing himself an absolute being within the empire of yokai and demons.
‘But…’
Was that truly all?
Was that the only reason the two of them were so different?
Seomun Hwan instinctively felt that a more fundamental reason lay hidden beneath the surface.
‘What could it be? A side effect of the Ihon-daebeop?’
At that moment, a brilliant light suddenly burst from So Ji-myeong’s blood-soaked chest.
Whoosh!
“……!”
It was impossible. The light was pouring from a body whose breath had already stopped, whose heart had been pierced.
But it was no mere afterglow.
It carried the faint, pulsating waves of spiritual energy.
From its center emerged a small orb of light no larger than a finger joint.
It was clear and transparent, yet within it swirled countless mysterious shapes.
The orb slowly rose into the air, then flew straight toward Seomun Hwan as if seeking its master.
“This is…!”
Seomun Hwan reflexively raised his hand, but it was already too late.
The orb of light rippled like water as it flew forward and was absorbed into his chest with perfect naturalness.
Swoosh!
A small ripple spread, and without leaving a single wound, the light vanished into his body.
In that instant, Seomun Hwan’s eyes snapped wide open.
“Hmm!”
His consciousness was sucked deep into his inner world. Countless shapes and characters flooded his vision.
Black flames, sharp seals, symbols of yokai and demons, massive formation structures—everything swirled and burrowed into his mind.
“…This is.”
It felt as if a missing part of his body had finally returned.
The techniques of the Hwanma-gwilyun.
Their detailed composition, deployment methods, and applications all rose clearly in his mind.
The gestures, the gazes, the momentum and flow he had repeated thousands of times as the Phantom Demon now overlaid his current self.
‘The lost memories have come back as well.’
He had believed he already possessed all the knowledge and martial arts of the Phantom Demon from his previous life, yet he now realized he had forgotten incredibly important memories and powerful techniques.
So Ji-myeong’s memories began to fill those gaps.
At that moment, fragments of his past life swirled up within his mind.
But even those were incomplete.
“…Still far from enough.”
Even after absorbing the Hwanma-gwilyun and a portion of the memories, something still felt empty.
No, it was clearly lacking.
He could sense that roughly two-thirds of the whole had been lost.
“Which means…”
Seomun Hwan’s eyes slowly narrowed.
“…there are more soul fragments split from the Phantom Demon besides So Ji-myeong and me. At least four or five more.”
The Ihon-daebeop.
It had been an incomplete technique from the very beginning.
He had been forced to use it as a last resort while on the verge of death.
He had considered it fortunate enough simply to have reincarnated as Seomun Hwan without failure…
‘So there was a side effect like this?’
The Phantom Demon’s knowledge and martial arts had been shattered into several pieces.
Fragments possessing independent personalities and memories.
If that was the case, then somewhere in this world, other fragments of the Phantom Demon were living entirely different lives.
‘This… definitely needs to be looked into.’
Seomun Hwan turned his head.
There stood three yokai beasts baring their fangs and growling, along with Mok Sa-cheon, who remained completely immobilized by the giant needles.
Even Mok Sa-cheon seemed unable to believe that Seomun Hwan had killed So Ji-myeong.
“How…”
Seomun Hwan slowly walked over to Mok Sa-cheon, who was still bound by the giant needles and kneeling on the ground.
The old man’s blood-drenched face was a tangled mess of exhaustion, shock, and confusion.
He had seen everything.
Mok Sa-cheon was a master of sorcery whose skill was second to none.
He had witnessed with his own eyes that Seomun Hwan was a reincarnation of the Phantom Demon.
“Let me ask you one thing, Mok Sa-cheon.”
“…”
“Wasn’t So Ji-myeong acting strange for the past year?”
Mok Sa-cheon’s eyebrows twitched faintly.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but eventually spoke with resignation.
“…Yes. That’s correct.”
His tone was rough, yet his attitude was one of honest, unreserved admission.
“So Ji-myeong was my seventh disciple. He was exceptionally bright from a young age and learned sorcery faster than anyone. In terms of talent alone, he was unmatched. However…”
Mok Sa-cheon’s gaze fell to the ground.
“His personality was the problem. He was so arrogant and looked down on others that he frequently fought with his senior and junior disciples. I often scolded and lectured him because of it.”
“Arrogant, you say?”
“Indeed. No matter how much I tried to correct him, it was impossible. It was simply his nature.”
That was the difference between So Ji-myeong and himself.
Even though they were both reincarnations of the same soul, their personalities were not the same.
It seemed the difference wasn’t simply due to their environments, but rather an innate distinction.
And a fatally critical one at that.
‘If So Ji-myeong was pride… then am I sloth?’
The memories of being more diligent than anyone in his previous life remained vivid.
Yet for some reason, in this life he could not overcome his laziness.
‘Is this a coincidence, or…’
Mok Sa-cheon continued.
“One day, he changed overnight. His attitude became even more violent, and his eyes turned beast-like. Then, without any warning, he slaughtered all his fellow disciples.”
Mok Sa-cheon ground his teeth, his throat trembling.
“After doing the same to me, he declared that he had been the Phantom Demon in his previous life.”
Seomun Hwan tilted his head slightly and asked.
“And you believed him without question?”
Mok Sa-cheon let out a deep sigh.
“I had no choice but to believe him. The power and knowledge he displayed could not be explained by common sense.”
Mok Sa-cheon’s gaze quietly shifted to the side.
Where he indicated with his head stood the three massive yokai beasts still arranged in a triangular formation.
Even in the darkness, they emanated a heavy, oppressive presence as they held their positions.
“Originally… those were yokai I cherished deeply. I raised them personally from their larval stage. They were beings I truly cared for. Yet So Ji-myeong subdued them in an instant. He severed their meridians and forcibly bound them. And then…”
He paused as if swallowing, then whispered again.
“It didn’t end with simple subjugation. Their power changed. The bodies I had spent years refining were surpassed in a single moment. They became several times stronger… They began to rule like true lords of yokai and demons.”
After finishing his words, Mok Sa-cheon fell silent for a moment.
When he exhaled a long, exhausted breath, it seemed as if the last remaining strength had drained completely from his body.
Deep shadows fell across his wrinkled face.
The final shred of pride he had clung to as the leader of the Mosan Sect had now collapsed.
After a long pause, Mok Sa-cheon muttered in despair.
“So… what do you plan to do with me now?”
There was no longer any will or anger left in his voice. Only deep resignation and weariness remained.
“The Mosan Sect is already finished. Decades of this old man’s hard work have turned to nothing. All the disciples who followed me are dead, and only a ruined sect remains.”
Mok Sa-cheon’s eyes were filled with the weight of years and suffering.
“Rebuilding the sect would take at least several decades. But with this old, exhausted body, it’s impossible. Everything… it’s all over now.”
His voice grew quieter and quieter. It sounded like the words of someone who had given up on everything, speaking to himself.
Seomun Hwan quietly observed him.
A pitiful, shabby hunchbacked old man.
The great sorcerer of his generation, who had once displayed sorcery powerful enough to oppose him, was now lying prostrate at rock bottom, having cast aside even his last remaining pride.
Yet a strange thought flickered across Seomun Hwan’s face.
After pondering deeply for a moment, he finally spoke.
“Is there any need to be so resigned?”
Mok Sa-cheon slowly lifted his gaze. Between his deeply furrowed wrinkles, confusion and bewilderment passed.
“What do you mean?”
Seomun Hwan took a few more slow steps toward the kneeling old man.
Strangely, there was no mockery or cynicism on his face. Only seriousness and absolute certainty.
“You said the Mosan Sect has collapsed, but that’s only from your perspective. You are still alive here and now. And the power and knowledge you possess remain intact.”
Mok Sa-cheon faintly narrowed his brows.
“What are you trying to say? I have no disciples left, nor the resources or manpower to restore what was destroyed. Simply maintaining the name would already be fortunate.”
“Instead of trying to merely maintain a dying legacy, you can choose a different path.”
Mok Sa-cheon slowly raised his head. Though his expression still showed he didn’t understand, a tiny spark of light had begun to flicker deep within his eyes.
Looking at that gaze, Seomun Hwan smiled quietly.
“Serve me, Mok Sa-cheon.”