Chapter 93 : Chapter 93
Chapter 093. The Lesser Heavenly Demon
“Sword Dragon?”
It was a familiar alias. Sword Dragon was the name given, generation after generation, to the rising swordsman who handled the sword better than anyone else of his cohort.
And yet, in recent years, that name had scarcely been spoken at all.
The Martial Sovereign Castle Lord’s youngest disciple.
Had he lost his dantian, despaired, and taken his own life? Or had he gone into seclusion? Bukgung Wan could not even remember clearly. Perhaps he had not been worth remembering in the first place.
From Bukgung Wan’s perspective, someone born into a collateral branch of the Bukgung clan, who had swept past countless illustrious blood relatives and earned the name of the Lesser Heavenly Demon at an early age, that Sword Dragon was nothing more than a small fry unworthy of notice.
Nevertheless, it was the Cult Leader’s order.
Bukgung Dantian might at times behave like a madman and indulge in bizarre whims, but he was the foremost among the Eight Sovereigns of Murim, and the Cult Leader of the Ming Cult, renowned throughout the world.
Bukgung Wan understood better than anyone that his insight was second to none.
Which meant—
‘Our Cult Leader believed it would be difficult for me to defeat Sword Dragon.’
It made no sense.
Still, the North was a barren and perilous land, comparable even to the West where Bukgung Wan had stayed. If Sword Dragon had lost his dantian once, yet proved himself in such a place…
‘Then he must be useful, at least to some extent.’
Bukgung Wan reached that conclusion.
For reasons he did not yet know, the Cult Leader had clearly decided that there was something to be gained from Bukgung Wan clashing with that brat.
‘Whether it truly exists or not.’
Even so, the Cult Leader had gone so far as to provoke him and command a journey north. It was only proper to obey.
He would grind that so-called Sword Dragon into the dirt, then contact the Cult Leader again. Had he seen? He should not dare compare such trash to him.
In any case, to complete his final mission, he had to travel to the northern region. The order had likely been given with that in mind as well.
Having arranged his thoughts, Bukgung Wan lightly kicked off the ground. A cloud-mist as red as blood coiled around his entire body.
The cloud-mist writhed as though it had a will of its own, driving Bukgung Wan’s body forward. In an instant, his figure cut across the temple grounds at a terrifying speed.
It was a super-ascending body movement art born from the Ming Cult’s secret art, the Silent Devouring Divine Art. In terms of sheer speed, it rivaled even the movement of many masters of the Entering Transformation Realm.
As Bukgung Wan sped toward the North at an unnatural pace, he paused midway to stop by a Black Market that dealt in information.
The Black Market. A kind of marketplace formed by scoundrels even worse than the unorthodox factions.
It was said that nine out of ten pieces of information circulating there were lies, and the remaining one was truth deftly laced with falsehood.
However, as the inheritor of the Silent Devouring Divine Art, Bukgung Wan had begun to open his True Demon Eye. The lies of mere rabble did not work on him at all.
He could easily sift out only the truth from among the rumors that flowed through the Black Market.
Even so, the Martial Sovereign Castle was not a place that allowed information to leak freely. Most likely, only what they had selected would reach Murim in the Central Plains.
Thus, among the information Bukgung Wan gathered, there was only one thing he could be certain was true.
Sword Dragon had returned.
And it was said that those words had come from none other than the Martial Sovereign Castle Lord himself.
That alone was the repeatedly confirmed truth.
‘I may need to be slightly cautious.’
Bukgung Wan calmly vanished after half-ruining the Black Market for the sake of obtaining that single fact.
Only afterward did several mid-ranking unorthodox factions realize what had happened and dispatch their disciples to the Black Market. They were all those who had been supporting it from the shadows.
But those who arrived late could do nothing.
Bukgung Wan had scattered traces of the Silent Devouring Divine Art everywhere, brazenly leaving them behind.
When the unorthodox rabble saw the shattered marks that resembled lotus blossoms in full bloom, their faces turned deathly pale.
“The Ming Cult…!”
Though it had not invaded the Central Plains’ Murim for centuries, the Ming Cult remained an object of terror to the unorthodox.
It had simply not “invaded” openly. Dozens upon dozens of sects had been wiped out during the Cult Leader’s or his successor’s unofficial journeys through Murim.
“Let us return. We saw nothing today.”
With those words, the unorthodox men who had tracked Bukgung Wan’s traces scattered and vanished.
At that very time, Bukgung Wan, wrapped in red cloud-mist, was drawing closer to the North.
***
The Martial Sovereign Castle was wealthy.
In an age when small escort agencies had all collapsed and major sects had entered the logistics trade themselves, the Martial Sovereign Castle stood as the largest, the strongest, and the most trustworthy of them all.
North and south of the Yangtze, and even as far as the West and the North. A scale that dominated the Central Plains.
A roster crowded with peerless masters, beginning with the Martial Sovereign Castle Lord.
And the absurd condition that they would take full responsibility for any damage or loss that occurred during transport.
In exchange, the transport fees demanded by the Martial Sovereign Castle were likewise staggering. Unless it was a merchant group with exceptional funds, one could not even dare to entrust them with work.
Over a long time, the Martial Sovereign Castle had accumulated wealth in precisely that manner, and by now it possessed funds enough to rival any of the Five Great Merchant Groups of the Central Plains.
“How astonishing. Such delicacies in the northern lands.”
As a result,
Even the Northern Branch had an environment where a seasoned master cook, who had served the imperial household for many years, could prepare all manner of high-grade ingredients.
Perhaps because of that—
An exclamation escaped the General’s lips, a woman who had wandered the wastelands for years and eaten anything that could be eaten.
She had even carved flesh from a monster’s corpse and chewed it before, yet at her core she was a princess raised amid luxuries in the imperial palace. In other words, she was someone who could evaluate food with more fastidiousness than anyone.
And from Jin Ryeo’s mouth came the words “a feast of land and sea.”
“Hoho, indeed. These are the sort of dishes one might occasionally be served at the main hall of the Unorthodox Alliance.”
The Blood Death Lord curled his wrinkled lips upward as he agreed.
There was seasoned and roasted meat, of course, and even fresh fish dishes that were difficult to taste in the inland regions.
Unlike ordinary Murim sects, the Martial Sovereign Castle also possessed many accomplished sorcerers, so perhaps it was only natural.
Slurp—
Dam Jeok-san, watching those old monsters, ate his thin noodles as though he were drinking them down.
Even back when he had been treated like discarded refuse, the Martial Sovereign Castle had not particularly tried to save money on his meals. Thus, even before such delicacies, there was no reason for his eyes to widen.
“One more bowl, please.”
Still, having spent so much strength, the warmth of food loosening the tension in his body did feel undeniable.
When he had first risen from collapse, he had thought he lacked even the energy to digest. Yet after forcing something into his stomach, strength began to return.
Slurp!
As Dam Jeok-san finished another bowl of noodles cleanly, his eyes suddenly caught Gyeong-won and the Black Panther Spear hurrying out of the hall.
Leading them out was none other than Dark Heaven, the Northern Wind Sword Corps Commander.
He had heard that they intended to train separately. Still, leaving in the middle of a meal felt abrupt, yet he could understand.
He had grown too strong too quickly in too short a time, to the point where even Gyeong-won and the Black Panther Spear struggled to adapt.
They likely wished to be of even a little help. In Dam Jeok-san’s eyes, both of them had ample room to grow stronger. And though Dark Heaven was not a martial artist, she was a being who could not help but be more knowledgeable than most.
‘May you achieve what you seek.’
He had given the Black Panther Spear an order. To stay with him to the end. Not to think of dying in his place, but to live and share in glory.
So they could do it. With that thought, Dam Jeok-san cut off his worries about his subordinates. He was not free of concern, but excessive worry would only be an insult to them.
As he swept away those anxieties and drank even the last drops of broth—
“Martial Nephew.”
The Northern Heaven Sword Venerable spoke to him.
“Yes.”
“Do not worry about the North. Go to the main castle as quickly as you can. It is not common for your master to grant guidance.”
She spoke decisively. The Martial Sovereign Castle Lord was, at present, the being closest to being unrivaled under heaven. Even a single breath or motion from him could become a fortuitous encounter.
“I understand. I will steady myself and depart soon. In any case, even if Master is in the West, it will take him some time to reach the main castle….”
“Yes, good. Martial Nephew, no matter what day comes, remember one thing.”
“Yes.”
“No matter how desperate the situation, there is always a way through.”
If one did not abandon the will to live.
If one did not give up on pressing forward.
Words the young Dam Jeok-san had once spoken to Un Wol-hyang when she had fallen into despair.
Words Dam Jeok-san had swallowed down again and again at every moment after losing his dantian.
Now, those words returned to Dam Jeok-san through Un Wol-hyang’s lips.
“I will. I will live always carving those words into my heart.”
Dam Jeok-san replied with a faint smile.
“Good. Do not forget. I, too, have lived repeating your words to myself, and that is why I could reach this position.”
Un Wol-hyang smiled back at him. It was easy to say, yet the years of hardship she must have chewed down and swallowed to bear the name of Sword Venerable must have been long indeed.
Until Dam Jeok-san reached a realm equal to hers—no, surpassing hers—he would have to swallow hardships at least twice as harsh.
Un Wol-hyang seemed to sense that as well, and thus, at this time, she repeated those words filled with old memories.
The table that had seemed as though it might buckle beneath the food slowly began to empty.
The great figures, each unable to leave their own territories lightly, spoke without end about the North’s future even as they ate.
When the talk ended and the food was completely gone, they rose without hesitation.
In particular, the General, who had drunk deeply of the alcohol served with the meal, now stood with her back perfectly straight, as though nothing had happened.
She was not expelling the liquor with internal energy. She was simply enduring it through sheer will.
“Tsk tsk. How vicious.”
The Blood Death Lord clicked his tongue in a slightly unsteady voice as he watched her.
Thus, one by one, the outsiders departed,
And only those belonging to the Northern Branch of the Martial Sovereign Castle remained in the hall.
Seven days and nights passed.
***
There was still no contact from Gyeong-won, Dam Jeok-san’s escort, or from Jang Woo-ryang, the Black Panther Spear.
However, testimonies often arose that human screams poured without pause from the training grounds attached to the pavilion of the Northern Wind Sword Corps Commander.
Since she could implement extreme environments in which no human could possibly survive through sorcery, it was not strange no matter what sort of training she was conducting.
In contrast, Dam Jeok-san lived as though he had severed all ties with training.
No, it even seemed as though he had severed ties with work itself.
He entrusted all administrative duties of the Monster Repelling Squad to Baek Ri-gwan and Peng Cho-seol, while he shut himself inside the Squad Leader’s office and merely leafed through books.
Even those were works completely unrelated to martial arts, such as Treatise on Herbal Medicine (本草藥學講論) and Record of Rites (禮記).
He was deliberately distancing himself from the martial path he had built.
Dam Jeok-san was bearing far too much for a realm that did not yet fit him. To chew down and swallow it all, he first had to separate it from himself and look upon it from outside.
Of course, the Martial Sovereign Castle Lord had said he would grant him guidance, but…
‘To satisfy that exacting master, I must show sufficient attainment.’
The Martial Sovereign Castle Lord was a cold-blooded man who appraised even his own disciple as easily as breathing. If Dam Jeok-san arrived without growing even a single step, his master might quickly lose interest, offer only minimal guidance, and depart.
But if Dam Jeok-san came having found an answer for himself, the matter would change. Thus, by not training, he continued his training.
“I am Bukgung Wan, the Young Cult Leader of the Ming Cult. I wish to measure my martial path against Sword Dragon.”
The Lesser Heavenly Demon, Bukgung Wan.
Until that madman arrived.