Chapter 222: The Grace of a Master (1)
For some reason, Cheon Yura was quite enthusiastic about this martial arts competition.
She even went as far as to personally express her desire to participate.
But I rejected her outright.
“No.”
“Why not?!”
Cheon Yura protested fiercely at my cold refusal.
“Obviously, we can’t expose the Young Cult Leader’s full power in a playground like that.”
The martial arts competition, planned with the Sword King’s agreement, had an age limit—roughly, under twenty-five.
The expected level was likely late First-rate at best, and perhaps early Master level if being generous?
Martial competitions should be among equals; if Cheon Yura were to enter, every participant would be defeated in an instant.
“Young Cult Leader, even I believe this is excessive.”
“Grrrgh!”
Even Wang Cheongeol, who always supported her regardless of the situation, stopped her with a look that said this wasn’t right.
With even Wang Cheongeol stepping in, Cheon Yura eventually gave up on participating.
“It would’ve been a great chance to broaden my knowledge of the orthodox sects’ martial arts…”
“Isn’t the Heavenly Demon Cult’s Martial Arts Repository already packed with their techniques?”
“Theory and practice are entirely different! Don’t you understand the joy of standing blade-to-blade and sharing your true heart?!”
Despite her soulful cry, our response remained cold.
I muttered quietly.
“I doubt anyone among the orthodox sect’s younger generation could handle your ‘true heart’…”
Even Bu Ilhwa, who had been silently watching, added a remark.
“They’d either lose their minds or fall into Qi Deviation and become crippled.”
“……”
Cheon Yura’s cheek twitched in frustration.
“Then who are you sending? Don’t tell me it’s you, Jin Yeomyung! You’re not thinking of stealing all the fun for yourself, are you?!”
I quickly responded.
“I’m sending the Three Attendant.”
Originally, I had considered participating myself, or sending Baek Sang-ah disguised as one of the cult’s younger generation.
Thankfully, with the arrival of the Three Attendant, that became unnecessary.
“The Three Attendant? You mean those three good-for-nothings you picked up before?”
“They’ve become quite capable…”
“Hmph, as if.”
Well, aside from us, there was no one else who could pass her standards at this point.
“Still, they should rank quite high even among famous clans. More importantly, they’re perfect for the plan, since they’re completely unknown—neither part of the Six Great Demonic Clans nor graduates of the Demon Dragon Hall.”
Honestly, judging from the glimpse I got of the Three Attendant’s skills yesterday, I thought they wouldn’t fall too far behind Namgung Cheong, one of the Six Dragon Seats.
No, if the matchup was favorable, they could even aim for victory.
But then—
“High rank? Just high rank?!”
Cheon Yura exploded at the word high rank.
“Anything less than victory is unacceptable!”
She glared at us, eyes burning with motivation.
“Isn’t the primary goal of this competition to disgrace the rebel faction within the Namcheon Baek Clan?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Then obviously we must win!”
This time, the Sword King Baek Dogyung had asked me to bring down the rebel forces threatening the deputy head of the clan, Baek Munyak—mainly Baek Munjeol and his group.
Naturally, multiple schemes would be running at once.
The martial arts competition was merely the opening move, so there was no need to get too attached to the results.
It would’ve been enough to eliminate the candidates backed by the enemy.
But that didn’t seem to satisfy Cheon Yura.
The fact that she even visited the Three Attendant in person to encourage them was proof of that.
Cheon Yura sternly addressed the kneeling Three Attendant.
“You represent the Heavenly Demon Cult at a gathering full of orthodox and unorthodox bastards. They will judge the cult’s level through you.”
Gulp!
Those words multiplied the pressure a hundredfold, and the previously eager Three Attendant shrank back.
Then she dropped a bombshell on them.
“Before you leave for the Murim Alliance, I will personally evaluate your martial arts.”
“…What?!”
“Y-Young Cult Leader, yourself?!”
The Three Attendant were aghast at the blessing of the Young Cult Leader.
“I will also watch your every match. Whether orthodox or unorthodox, you must win. I don’t want to hear about how valiantly you fought after a loss!”
“Um, excuse me?”
I was speechless and asked her a question.
“You’re not going to look for Lady Biyeon?”
“That’s that, and this is this.”
‘Maybe I should’ve just let her participate…’
While I stood there, dumbfounded, Cheon Yura folded her arms and continued.
“Either way, the tournament in Namcheon and the ones who kidnapped those two are most definitely connected.”
Oh?
“Why do you say that?”
“The informant who gave us the tip didn’t just mention the final destination, Guangzhou in Guangdong Province. He specifically brought up Namchang.”
Her eyes turned serious.
“Even if Namchang is a key hub in Jiangxi Province, it makes no sense for someone heading to Guangzhou to pass through such a major city.”
“In other words?”
“In short, Namchang is the kidnappers’ final destination. They’re planning to hand over Biyeon and Cheon Yujeong to someone there.”
It was a plausible deduction.
“And currently, only two major powers in Namchang are likely involved.”
“Namgung and Namcheon.”
“Exactly.”
Of course, it’s possible that other forces could be involved.
But the rest were likely inconsequential.
“Once the tournament begins, the high-ranking members of those clans—as well as every lowlife in Namchang—will swarm the area.”
“…Don’t tell me?”
Guessing her plan, I widened my eyes.
“We’ll be able to find them—those harboring foreign Qi within their bodies.”
“…!”
Even I could hardly detect it unless the opponent revealed themselves first, but had her senses evolved to such an extent, reaching the very edge of Extreme Demon?
She clenched her fist tightly and shouted.
"That’s why I must attend in person and verify it all!"
"……."
Was it just my imagination, or did her final statement carry a hint of personal desire?
At that moment, Bu Ilhwa beamed brightly and backed Cheon Yura up.
“If the Young Cult Leader personally oversees those children, it would be an unparalleled honor.”
“…Lady of Tower of Demonic Heaven?”
“If my children… no, if those girls who came from a mere courtesan house defeat the younger generation of the orthodox sects, I could ask for no greater joy.”
"……."
Before I knew it, she had shed her identity as Hidden Fragrance Phoenix, Vice-Captain of the Divine Ghost Unit, and returned as the matron of the Three Attendant—Lady of Tower of Demonic Heaven.
Seeing the longing in her eyes—‘I want to see my kids shine!’—left me speechless.
Then—
The Three Attendant, sensing the affection of someone like a mother, immediately prostrated themselves before Cheon Yura and begged.
“Young Cult Leader! Please make us stronger!”
“No matter the training, we’ll follow with smiles!”
“Please, Young Cult Leader!”
Cheon Yura gladly accepted their plea.
“Very well, I shall make you strong!”
I looked at the Three Attendant with eyes full of pity.
‘What? Smiling? More like losing your minds from the madness…’
I had noticed it long ago.
Whether it was volunteering to follow me or kicking Black Iron Ball, those three had an extraordinary talent for digging their own graves.
And so, the Three Attendant were dragged off by Cheon Yura to undergo special training.
By now, they were probably painfully aware of just how badly they had misjudged their decision.
With about a week left before departure to the Murim Alliance—
I had rented out an entire training hall and secluded myself inside.
‘I should at least take this chance to organize my martial arts foundation.’
Having broken through the wall of Extreme Demon with the shock therapy of the Heavenly Demon Lords “Original Heaven-One View,”
I needed time to properly digest and consolidate that realization.
Slowly, I drew my sword.
Then, I began to gracefully enact each form from the first to the tenth movement, like a dance.
Reaching the Extreme Demon Realm was considered enough in the Murim world to be called a Grandmaster of one martial lineage.
But—
“Not enough.”
Even while performing the sword forms, I was still tormented by a thirst for greater heights.
‘My physical abilities are certainly nearing their prime. With my past experiences, I could even challenge the Sword Demon right now.’
I could use willpower-based techniques, and I could even mimic the Mind Sword to some extent.
But the area where I felt completely lost was just one.
After finishing all ten movements once, I gazed blankly at the sky and sighed.
“It’s the sword technique…”
Ten Heavenly Record Demonic Sword.
From the first form Heaven-Opening Flower Stream to the tenth form Heaven-Crushing Nirvana, I had mastered all ten techniques to their extremes.
I could freely mix real and transformed forms, create countless derivatives, and respond perfectly to any variation.
And yet—
Even though I had supposedly mastered it perfectly—
I still felt a limit in this sword technique.
‘With this alone, I can’t defeat the Heaven-Slaying Demonic Sword.’
The Heavenly Record Demonic Sword was something I believed could hold superiority over any other technique.
But whenever I simulated a sparring match against Cheon Yura’s Heaven-Slaying Demonic Sword—assuming both of us were at the same level—every outcome ended in my defeat.
‘The Heavenly Record is certainly a peerless sword art not inferior to the Heaven-Slaying. But it’s not a technique that surpasses it.’
This was a concern unrelated to my feelings for her.
It was a pure dilemma as a martial artist.
Then—
A voice that should never be heard in this place echoed around me.
“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
“…!?”
Snap!
I instinctively turned my head toward the voice.
And there stood—
My master, holding a sword in one hand and a liquor bottle in the other.
“M-Master?”
“Yes, it’s been a while, my disciple.”
Old Han.
The very same master who was not only a member of the Heaven-Defying Society but had gone to confront the Grand Heavenly Lord himself—why was he standing here in the middle of Luoyang?
Whatever the reason, I rushed to him in joy.
“Did your mission go well?”
I asked casually, assuming things had worked out fine.
But for some reason, my master averted his gaze and mumbled in a tiny voice.
“…Not yet.”
“……”
Just as my expression began to chill—
My master quickly waved his hand and scrambled to explain.
“I-I’m still preparing! You can’t just walk up to the Grand Heavenly Lord unprepared! I needed to heal my internal injuries and get into perfect condition!”
“After all this time… you still haven’t even met him?”
“I was just about finished preparing! But then I heard you all were up to something fun here, so I dropped by for a look!”
…Really?
Sensing my gaze full of doubt, my master hastily changed the subject.
“Ah! Come to think of it, my disciple seems to have a lot of worries about swordsmanship!”
I looked intrigued and asked him.
“…You noticed?”
Seeing my interest shift, my master looked relieved and continued.
“Of course. I wanted to help you reach Extreme Demon in my own way, but it seems you found enlightenment elsewhere.”
My master looked me up and down with genuine regret.
“Still… when I saw your girlfriend, I figured something like this would happen eventually. I just didn’t expect it to come so soon.”
He had thought that far ahead?
While I silently marveled, my master took a few steps back to put some distance between us.
"Seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times. Still, it’s a relief that this master has at least one thing he can teach you."
Srrrng!
Master drew his sword.
"Come now. A martial artist can’t rely on words alone, right? Let’s see what you’ve got, my disciple."
"...!"
A martial duel with my master.
My heart thumped as I raised my sword to face him.
In my previous life, I never once had a proper spar with my master.
Those days were nothing more than getting beaten like a dog and having my coin pouch taken over and over.
‘If Master really is the Second Lord of the Heaven-Defying Society… No, even before that—if it’s true he escaped from that Cult Leader, then he’s probably an expert I can’t even begin to handle.’
He might be a swordsman on par with the Supreme One or the Dao Zun.
Even so.
Even so!
‘If it’s a master who’s let his guard down against his own disciple, maybe—just maybe—I can land at least one strike!’
This absolutely had nothing to do with any grudges I’d held since my past life.
It was a sincere and noble intention, born from a disciple’s desire to bring joy to his master by surpassing him—a pure heart, full of filial piety!
“Well then.”
I assumed the opening form of Heaven-Opening Flower Stream.
And inwardly smirked with sinister glee.
"I humbly request your instruction."
"Very well. Come at me."
Completely unaware that his disciple was dreaming of betrayal(?), my master calmly motioned with a flick of his hand.
And so—
"Here I come!"
I infused my sword with willpower and, using all my strength, unleashed a slash at my master.
KWAKWAKWAKWA!
"...Hm?"
In the split second it took for Master’s eyes to widen at the blow flying in far stronger than expected—