Chapter 325 : Potala Palace (5)
Chapter 325: Potala Palace (5)
Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang's out-of-nowhere question only deepened Il-mok's suspicion.
'...Should I really look into getting him a spot at the ward?'
The old man reminded him of the elderly residents who used to live at what was now Peach Blossom Ridge.
But he couldn't exactly say that to his face.
"...Depending on how one interprets that, it could sound quite blasphemous, Family Head Hyeokryeon."
"Hmm. I appreciate your caution, but that's a needless worry. I clearly said 'the next generation,' did I not?"
"Even discussing the next generation while my Master still lives is blasphemous, wouldn't you say?"
"Do you honestly believe that? You seem to know less about your Master than I'd expect. The Heavenly Demon is someone who looks at the meaning behind words, not the words themselves. Furthermore, he is also the one who worries about the Divine Cult's future more than anyone."
If Il-mok said no here, it would imply the Heavenly Demon was petty and short-sighted.
"You're right that we should think about the future, but my Master is still in perfect health. This doesn't seem like a conversation for now."
Il-mok tried to deflect again, but Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang simply gazed at him steadily.
Not the slightest intention of backing off.
Il-mok held that gaze for a moment, then let out a faint sigh.
"Haa. If we're talking about the next Cult Leader, there's Eldest Brother."
"Hmm. In this old man's estimation, your vessel is broader than the Eldest Young Master's."
Blunt as a hammer indeed.
"I appreciate you thinking so highly of me, but the strongest becomes the Cult Leader. That's the law of the Divine Cult. I'm not yet a match for my Eldest Brother."
"Who's to say what will happen a few years from now? From what I've seen, it's entirely possible in a few years."
Il-mok genuinely could not fathom why this senile old man was so dead set on shoving him onto the Cult Leader's throne.
And contrary to Il-mok's assessment, Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang was not senile in the least.
This journey had simply cemented his conviction.
Among all the cultists within the cult who might contend for the position, the Eighth Young Master possessed the greatest vessel.
Faced with the old man's persistence, Il-mok gave a half-honest answer.
"I don't have the capacity to lead everyone as Cult Leader, nor do I have any desire to become one. I'm content simply supporting my Eldest Brother from behind, as I do now."
The idea of becoming the head of an organization and bearing responsibility for everyone made his skin crawl.
Now, if it were a position where he could sit at the top and do absolutely nothing while playing around all day, that would be a different story.
That was exactly the position Il-mok wanted for himself.
Second-in-command of the cult.
Toss his Eldest Brother a few words of advice here and there, then hole up somewhere in the main headquarters and idle away his days in peace.
Hearing Il-mok's roundabout rejection, Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang furrowed his brow.
"Do you know this? When the most capable individual refuses to lead, it is nothing short of a dereliction of duty and a grave sin."
"...And what exactly is your metric for being the 'most capable'? In my eyes, my Eldest Brother has more than enough talent to lead. And since he's someone who willingly accepts my counsel, the most ideal future is one where he takes the throne and I assist him from the side."
"True. As you say, the Eldest Young Master has changed from who he used to be. He knows how to listen to those beneath him, and his temperament has calmed somewhat. For now."
Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang placed particular emphasis on "for now" and pointed somewhere with his finger.
At the bodies of the Left and Right Great Virtuous Ones, which hadn't been cleared away yet.
"Didn't you explain it yourself? The exact reason why those two remained as the Left and Right Great Virtuous Ones instead of claiming the Dalai Lama's seat? Human greed is a terrifying thing. Can you say with certainty that the Eldest Young Master will always welcome your counsel, even after he becomes Cult Leader?"
Il-mok answered without a moment's hesitation.
"I'm certain of it."
Then he made it clear that he had no desire to continue this conversation.
"The cleanup is urgent, so I'll be going."
Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang watched Il-mok who walked away without even waiting for a response, and murmured quietly to himself.
"...Such deep bonds between fellow disciples."
***
After escaping from Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang's interrogation, Il-mok shook his dizzy head once.
'Damn old man. Spouting nonsense.'
His body was already in rough shape, and hearing something that complicated his thoughts on top of it left him in a foul mood.
The faint smell of blood drifting from every direction only added to his nausea.
Perhaps because Il-mok's expression was far from bright, the women who had been gathering corpses approached him.
"Young Master, are you feeling alright?"
"Big Brother, we'll handle the rest. Please go inside and rest."
"L-leave it to us."
Touched by their concern, Il-mok offered them a faint smile and replied.
"It's not serious, so don't worry. Let me give you a few quick instructions first. Leave the corpse burning to the Hyeokryeon Family warriors. Instead, I need you all to search the Potala Palace and find some clean clothes for us to change into."
Both the women's and Il-mok's clothes were soaked in blood.
But the reason they needed fresh clothes wasn't solely due to hygiene.
"And find the women being held throughout the Potala Palace and help them."
If they went bursting into prison cells completely coated in fresh gore, they would only end up terrifying the already traumatized victims.
Understanding his intent, the women scoured the Potala Palace while Il-mok sat again to regulate his internal injuries.
Shortly after, Jin Hayeon returned and handed him a fresh change of clothes.
Finding a quiet corner, Il-mok quickly used a spell to cleanse the dried blood from his skin and changed into the clean garments.
Once dressed, the very first place Il-mok headed to was the building where the Left and Right Great Virtuous Ones had resided.
"Hiik..."
When Il-mok entered, the two girls still inside flinched with terror-stricken faces.
The pitiful sight made him pause to soothe them first. He put on the most harmless smile he could manage.
"Don't worry. The bad monks who hurt you have all been driven away."
***
While Il-mok comforted the two girls, his attendants also changed clothes and began moving through the Potala Palace to rescue the captive women.
With each rescue, the maids' expressions grew grimmer.
The number of women in the Potala Palace approached a hundred, and most of them were young.
The oldest among them was only twenty-two.
After the maids gathered all the women together, Il-mok stepped before them.
"We've driven out all the wicked monks who tormented you. Nothing like before will happen to you again. It's getting late, and everyone needs to eat. Does anyone know where food is stored here?"
Hearing the question, the oldest girl stepped forward.
"I-I know where it is."
She had volunteered just in case. These newcomers might be cruel in a different way from the Potala Palace monks.
Even if it would lead their attention to her, at least she could protect the young ones this way.
She apparently already served as the women's de facto leader; she gently guided the younger ones as they prepared a meal.
While Il-mok observed them briefly, Jin Hayeon cautiously stepped up beside Il-mok.
"Young Master, while searching for the captives, I happened to discover the Potala Palace's grand library. How would you like to proceed?"
"Hmm. We should take a look."
Hearing Il-mok's reply, Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang who had been silently watching everything from behind offered his opinion.
"That place will undoubtedly hold the vile doctrines and wicked martial arts of those who committed these atrocities. Wouldn't the best course of action be to simply burn it all to the ground?"
The conversation he'd had with the old man barely an hour ago flashed through Il-mok's mind, and he hesitated for a moment. However, realizing this topic was completely unrelated to succession, he quickly organized his thoughts and replied.
"Is a sword evil simply because a murderer wielded it? A sword is just a sword."
Il-mok believed that tools were just tools.
Explosives were originally invented to help miners in their work, and that very invention later caused massive casualties in wars. In reverse, the horrific human experiments conducted during wartime ironically advanced medicine by leaps and bounds.
Things created with good intentions could become dangerous when wielded with malice, and things born of evil intent could serve virtuous purposes if used correctly.
That was one of the world's strange truths.
And honestly, the doctrines of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult were no exception to this rule.
"If we're going to burn down an entire library simply because the arts inside are wicked, shouldn't we start by burning down every single Demonic Art manual in our own Divine Cult first?"
After all, they were a group of lunatics who practiced martial arts that drove them insane, all under the noble pretense of punishing the wicked.
"Furthermore, their doctrines will be necessary for expanding the Divine Cult's influence in Tibet going forward."
Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang had understood the first point, but the part about influence puzzled him.
"What do you mean?"
"The people living here in Tibet have been steeped in the Potala Palace's doctrines for decades, even centuries. Rather than forcing our Divine Cult's doctrines on them, it's better to take their doctrines and gradually reshape them to fit ours before spreading them. That's exactly how the Maitreya Luminous Cult was spread in the Central Plains."
Understanding Il-mok's intent at last, Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang nodded in admiration.
'As I thought, no matter how many times I weigh them against each other, the Eighth Young Master's vessel for leadership is simply vastly superior. Tsk.'
He bitterly swallowed his disappointment that such a genius refused the throne.
Il-mok had no idea what the old man was thinking, but he had no desire to talk with him further.
He turned on his heel and headed for the library.
Befitting the Potala Palace's incredibly long history, the grand library was absolutely massive.
He passed rows of Buddhist scriptures with various titles and soon arrived at a section that appeared to contain martial arts manuals.
"Hmm."
Il-mok casually pulled out whichever volume his hand landed on.
Standing a few paces away, Jin Hayeon also pulled out a manual and quietly began reading.
Whether by pure coincidence or cosmic irony, the random book Il-mok had selected happened to be a highly classified manual detailing the Potala Palace's bedchamber arts.
He flipped through it quickly and soon let out a wry laugh.
'You've got to be kidding me.'
The fundamental theory behind the Potala Palace's arts of the bedchamber wasn't much different from what the Heavenly Demon had previously explained.
Specifically, the part about forcibly absorbing a woman's innate creative power through the act of intercourse.
But one crucial explanation was missing.
A strict warning stating that in order to prevent the absorbed sexual energy from instantly dissipating into nothingness, the male practitioner must absolutely never expel their Yang energy.
'In the modern era, this technique would probably make billions as the ultimate cure for premature ejaculation.'
When Il-mok reached the final page, his expression hardened.
Written there was the most critical warning about this bedchamber art.
—Should one engage in intercourse with the same woman multiple times, there is a severe risk of completely draining her life force and rendering her barren. Under no circumstances should one engage in intercourse with the same woman repeatedly.
"These sick fucks."
The Potala Palace's monks had blatantly ignored the warnings left by their predecessors and committed their atrocities. Knowing full well about this horrific side effect.
Looking down at the appalling manual, Il-mok was suddenly reminded of a fleeting thought he'd had right before departing for Tibet.
He'd once lamented why, of all the cults out there, he'd been dragged to the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult instead of the Potala Palace.
Back then, he had genuinely believed that practicing sexual cultivation arts would have at least been a hundred times better than practicing sanity-destroying Demonic Arts.
But not anymore.
He had been kidnapped and dragged into the Divine Cult roughly seven or eight years ago. But what would have happened to him if he had been dragged to the Potala Palace instead during that same timeframe?
Around his second or third year, the Dalai Lama would have been killed and the Left and Right Great Virtuous Ones would have seized power.
Il-mok would have been forced to choose.
Commit the same atrocities as those deranged monks, or rebel against the Great Virtuous Ones and die a glorious death.
Following that train of thought, Il-mok arrived at an important realization.
'Ah... it wasn't that I was lucky to end up in the cult.'
The biggest difference between the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult and the Potala Palace was their leader.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had been overflowing with lunatics too, thanks to the Demonic Arts.
It was only because his Master kept those lunatics in check that the cult was still moving in the direction it was originally meant to go.
If the Heavenly Demon had been someone like the Left and Right Great Virtuous Ones, something far worse than what had happened in Tibet might have swept across Xinjiang and the Central Plains.
Hundreds of blood-crazed demons would have been completely let off their leashes to ravage the world.
Il-mok shook his head at the horrific image in his mind, and then something caught his eye.
Jin Hayeon was rapidly scanning through books and stashing them away in her robes one by one.
"Miss Jin, why are you collecting those?"
"I thought I'd study them in case they're needed later."
"Hmm? Were the Potala Palace's martial arts in those books that impressive?"
Even as he asked, he couldn't shake his doubt.
For someone evaluating the quality of martial arts, she was skimming through the pages way too casually before pocketing them.
Jin Hayeon answered with her usual impassive expression.
"They are martial arts manuals, but not particularly relevant to combat."
"Then what kind of texts are they?"
"They are comprehensive manuals detailing the arts of the bedchamber."
"…"
Struck speechless by her terrifyingly nonchalant delivery, Il-mok stood there with a completely dumbfounded expression.
His gaze blankly darted back and forth between Jin Hayeon's stoic face and the stack of dirty books in her hands.