Chapter 313 : The Passage of Time (2)
Chapter 313: The Passage of Time (2)
On the road heading toward Xinjiang, past the foothills at the eastern entrance of the Tianshan Mountain Range.
Taking advantage of a short break, Il-mok closed his eyes and performed repeated breathing exercises.
Diving deep into his own mind, Il-mok repeated a single thought over and over.
'Trample them.'
The first image that naturally surfaced in his mind was the feat the Heavenly Demon had demonstrated.
He remembered how the nomads had dropped to the ground, squirming like bugs with every step the Heavenly Demon took.
The moment that single image completely took over his brain, Il-mok's eyes flew open as he expelled his internal energy from his dantian.
His Demonic Qi surged out through his meridians and swarmed exactly where he was looking.
Il-mok had been looking at a tree stump.
As he walked toward it, he repeated the same words in his mind.
'Trample it.'
And with each step he took toward the stump.
Thud.
The density of Qi gathering around the stump intensified.
Thud.
He continued his slow advance.
When roughly ten feet of distance remained between him and the stump, hairline cracks began forming along the growth rings carved into the wood.
"Ngh."
Il-mok grabbed his head with his right hand and stopped in his tracks.
The moment he did, the Demonic Qi pressing down on the stump scattered into nothing like a heat haze.
Right then, a warm chuckle came from behind Il-mok as he rubbed his aching head.
"Hahaha. Splendid."
Il-mok forced a smile at his Master's praise.
"I'm ashamed that I cannot follow even a single step of your teachings, Master."
As they traveled back to the Main Headquarters of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, Il-mok spent every free second he had training exactly like this.
He was trying to master the Heavenly Demon Sovereign Stride.
But compared to the Heavenly Demon's version, what he managed was child's play.
After several rounds of practice, Il-mok came to realize something critically important.
Even if he grew accustomed to performing the Heavenly Demon Sovereign Stride, the technique was incredibly inefficient.
Conjuring the mental image of trampling someone while simultaneously controlling Qi released outside his body demanded an enormous amount of mental energy.
Trying to do two things at once when either alone was already taxing felt like it would burn his brain out.
And even after all that effort, suppressing dozens or hundreds of people simultaneously like the way his Master had done required a terrifying amount of Demonic Qi.
That was the gap between the true Heart Stride that the Heavenly Demon had performed and the Heavenly Demon Sovereign Stride he'd taught through formal teaching.
The former was simply impossible to achieve without ascending to the Realm of Heavenly Communion.
So, this watered-down, copycat technique was actually the absolute peak of inefficiency.
Despite all that, Il-mok's reason for sticking with the technique was pretty straightforward.
'Whew. There's nothing better for practicing Qi manipulation outside the body. And it's perfect for concentration training too.'
Just as the Heavenly Demon had said, the Heavenly Demon Sovereign Stride was far more valuable as a training exercise than as an actual combat technique.
The headache from the rapid drain on his mental energy had barely subsided before Il-mok closed his eyes again and sank back into meditation.
Seeing his disciple jump right back into practice, the Heavenly Demon stood with his hands behind his back with a deeply satisfied smile on his face.
Il-mok opened his eyes and took several more steps toward the stump.
Thud. Thud.
When a much larger crack splintered across the wood this time, a childlike grin spread across Il-mok's face.
It was a genuinely strange thing to see.
Back in the day, Il-mok only trained to stay alive.
He'd been kidnapped and dragged to the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult by the very hands of his Master, the Heavenly Demon.
And because he’d been forced to learn the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword, which came with the completely insane side effect of obsessive-compulsive disorder, he only ever trained to keep those mental side effects at bay.
But now that nobody was forcing him, he actually seemed to be having fun with it.
Then again, you couldn't really blame him.
Power was incredibly addictive.
It wasn’t limited to the power to kill others or to lord over people.
The thrill of the act and the ability to wield Qi as he pleases, and the very fact that he could bend the principles of the world through his own will itself was also incredibly addictive.
Each wall that he’d overcome with his effort came with the overwhelming rush of power that brought joy to his face.
That was exactly why Il-mok had a plan,
'Hehehehe. The Khagan of the Oirat tribe is out of the picture now. Once the trade routes settle down, I can finally kick back and just train whenever I feel like it.'
He promised himself that once he got some free time, he would practice his martial arts wholeheartedly even if it meant tossing his actual duties aside.
It wasn't purely for the fun of getting stronger.
But he wasn't just thinking this because getting stronger was fun.
Fighting the Unorthodox Faction's thugs, the Orthodox Faction's hypocrites, the Muslims, and the nomads of the north had taught him the most important lesson of this era.
This world is a dog-eat-dog world, where the weak are the prey.
* * *
A few days later, Il-mok and his party crossed Xinjiang and arrived at the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's main headquarters.
Since a few of their people had been wounded in the battle with the nomad warriors, they decided to stay at the main headquarters for a few days for rest and treatment.
As Il-mok parted ways with his Master in front of the Heavenly Demon Palace, the Heavenly Demon smiled gently and said, "This works out rather well. The Eldest and the Sixth told me they haven't seen your face in ages because you've been so busy traveling between Tibet and Gansu, and they miss you."
"...I'll make sure to visit them soon."
Having done nothing but dump batches of slaves at the Grand Teacher's office and flee, Il-mok thought to himself, 'Well, this was bound to happen.'
In the spirit of escapism, he headed to Windrock Palace to take the day off and rest.
The maids welcomed Il-mok back.
Jeong Hyeon stepped out from the group and approached him.
"Y-young Master. I h-have something to tell you."
"Speak freely."
"The bow you g-gifted me is wonderfully powerful, b-but there is one p-problem."
Jeong Hyeon spoke with extreme caution.
She was already an incredibly timid person whenever she talked to anyone, and this time she was even more so.
She had to voice a complaint about something Il-mok had thoughtfully gifted her, after all.
"The a-arrows are too large and h-heavy, so if a battle drags on, it b-becomes a serious problem."
She had fully grasped this issue only after the battle with the Oirat tribe.
During the fight, she'd run out of arrows quickly and had to borrow Ohalak's bow. But the bigger problem came after the battle.
"B-because I don't have enough arrows, I h-had to search the b-battlefield to recover them for r-reuse."
On top of that, the arrows she recovered were caked in blood, chunks of flesh, and other revolting things, and she'd had to wipe or wash them clean for reuse. With the bow being a custom-made bow, she didn't have the luxury of throwing the arrows away.
Listening to her plight, a very specific image popped into Il-mok's mind.
He pictured her scouring the entire mountain, desperately digging through the dirt for her arrows.
'...What is she, a soldier who lost her shell casings?'
The moment his imagination slapped a camo uniform onto her, Il-mok violently shook his head to clear the thought.
'Holy fuck, that’s scary.'
The nightmare from the Sichuan bloodbath flashed through his mind, and he quickly apologized to Jeong Hyeon.
"Ahem. I'm sorry, Miss Jeong. I overlooked something important. I'll think of a solution for that."
Was it because those awful military memories from his past life had bubbled up?
'The bow's sheer power is the issue here... But I still have the bones and hide of that spiritual beast, so I might be able to build something.'
Ironically, the thread of a solution came from those very memories of his past life.
* * *
The next day, Il-mok set out to fulfill his Master's instructions.
But since bumping into his Eldest Brother could literally cost him his life, he decided to play it safe and visit the Sixth Brother first.
A large wooden plaque reading [Initiation Hall (入敎院)] hung proudly over the entrance of the massive estate Il-mok arrived at.
Since they couldn't keep calling the westerners and nomads Il-mok had purchased "slaves" forever, people had tossed around a bunch of different names at first.
Things like the 'Foreigner Training Center' or the 'Westerner Demonic Initiation Ward.' And so on.
However, the Heavenly Demon had strictly banned the use of terms like 'Foreign' or 'Western.'
This was rooted in his grand philosophy that regardless of nationality or skin color, anyone who joined the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was an equal member of the faith.
Thanks to that mandate, the place was just given the simple, straightforward name of Initiation Hall. On top of that, the former slaves were now simply called Cult members or believers.
As Il-mok stepped into the building, he saw the people who had just joined their ranks.
They were diligently receiving teachings from the instructors, shouting out words in the Central Plains language with clumsy pronunciation.
Taking in the sights as he walked, Il-mok soon spotted Jong-ri Chu.
And the sight that greeted him was a shocking one.
"Make sure you engrave the teachings of the Fifth Heavenly Demon, the Blood Rain Heavenly Demon, deep into your souls."
Barely half a year had passed since the first slaves were purchased and initiated, yet here they were already studying the doctrinal texts.
'...The Blood Rain Heavenly Demon? That psychotic extremist?'
He was a total lunatic who regularly ripped bad criminals to shreds in public just to set an example for the masses.
And strangely enough, there was only one westerner sitting through this terrifying theology class.
And Il-mok recognized the man receiving one-on-one instruction from Jong-ri Chu.
Out of all the slaves they had bought initially, this man was the one who picked up the Central Plains language incredibly fast.
'James was it?'
Recalling the middle-aged British's name, Il-mok approached Jong-ri Chu and James and greeted them first.
"Your youngest brother pays his respects, Sixth Brother."
"Welcome!"
Jong-ri Chu beamed and welcomed Il-mok.
James hurriedly offered a salute.
Watching a westerner greet him with a clasped-fist salute was surreal in more ways than one.
But more importantly.
'...Did he eat something weird? What's with that look in his eyes?'
The man's eyes were practically sparkling with sheer, unadulterated 'faith.'
He had tried to hide it back then, but this was definitely the same guy who used to look at Il-mok with pure terror before.
"Ahem. How are you finding life here?"
When Il-mok asked in a somewhat awkward tone, James answered with absolute conviction.
"Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. Very great. Thank you for bringing me here. Thank you. Again, thank you."
"......"
Il-mok found himself staring at Jong-ri Chu with eyes full of suspicion.
He wondered if Jong-ri Chu had fed him something strange while educating him, much like the methods used by that Ghost Valley Master.
But that’s his own misunderstanding.
About a month ago, James had simply become proficient enough in the Central Plains language to begin studying the doctrinal texts, and in doing so he realized he'd been carrying prejudices.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was no evil cult.
It was a sacred place that taught genuinely profound doctrines
The teaching that evil lurks within all humans and that the strong unleash it to oppress the weak resonated deeply with him.
But best of all, the Cult's mission to slaughter those wicked elites and save the common folk actually sounded beautiful to him.
After all, he used to be just a simple deckhand who got worked to the bone by those exact kinds of powerful people.
"Western world. Too many evil people. Nobles. Rich people bully us. Catholic Church. Sells indulgences. Not on our side. But Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. Saves pitiful people."
"Hahaha. It seems our friend here can't wait for our cult's teachings to spread to the West." Jong-ri Chu chimed in with evident delight, and James nodded with a reverent expression.
"Sixth Young Master's words. Correct. Just as Blood Rain Heavenly Demon taught. Western world. Must be dyed red with the blood of bad people to save pitiful common folks!"
"Hahahaha! You've memorized today's lesson perfectly! Truly outstanding!"
"......"
Il-mok was simply too speechless as he stared at his beaming Sixth Brother and the devout James.
'Dye the Western world red with the blood of nobles and the rich...?'
Suddenly, Il-mok began seriously questioning whether James was actually British.