SDG 40

Chapter 40

If you were to name the strongest martial art in the Demonic Sect, at least nine out of ten people would say the same name:

Heavenly Demon Divine Art (Cheonma Shingong).

It was undoubtedly the most wicked—and yet the most powerful—of all demonic techniques.

However, that was only true until the martial art before me appeared in the world.

I judged this technique, Jaha Magong (Purple Twilight Demon Art), to be on a level beyond that.

In fact—

“It’s hard to call this merely a demonic art.”

It was a martial discipline that shouldn’t be dismissed as just another evil technique.

The more I studied it, the more I understood it, the more I realized it was something entirely different.

Most demonic arts were simple and straightforward.
That was because magical energy (magi) itself was a force designed to draw out immense power in a short period of time.

But in that sense, what Jincheon called Jaha Magong could hardly be called a pure demonic art.

It used magi—but only as a concept to transform divine power into a new form: divine-demonic power (shinmagi).

Because of that, shinmagi was not something controlled or dominated by magi.

As a result, the usual side effects of demonic arts—madness, frenzy, loss of reason—did not appear.

If one set aside the fact that it was a “demonic” technique and viewed it objectively, there was only one true flaw.

It was a martial art that could not be mastered by a human body.

If someone did try to learn it by force—

“There’d be no side effects. You’d just die instantly.”

Compared to that, ordinary demonic arts almost seemed preferable—you could at least survive them.

It was like a delicious rice cake that turned out to be filled with poison.

Then a thought struck me.

“Jincheon must have created this technique to overcome the Heavenly Demon’s true energy.”

If so… did Jincheon actually succeed in mastering it?

I considered the possibility.

“Normally, that would be impossible.”

But if it were Jincheon… perhaps it wasn’t entirely impossible.

The reason for that thought was simple—because of me.

“If he had help from a being like me…”

By “me,” I meant the Jaha Divine Sword (Jaha Shingeom).

And the precedent for that was the Jaha Divine Art (Jaha Shingong).

Divine power, like divine-demonic power, was not something a human could possess.

A mortal body could not contain it; if forced to, the body would break.

Thus, using divine power was nearly impossible.

But there was one—only one—way to bend that universal law:

If I, the Jaha Divine Sword, lent my divine power to a human, then that human could perform the Jaha Divine Art through me.

That much was possible.

Still, it wasn’t without cost—
Even using divine power in that way placed immense strain on the body, enough to risk death.

For that reason, the Jaha Divine Art was rarely ever used in the martial world.
In the lineage of Mount Hua, it was passed down only as a last resort.

That’s also why—though Mount Hua’s strongest martial art was technically the Jaha Divine Art—the world remembered the Plum Blossom Sword Technique as their supreme art.

In truth, very few even knew the Jaha Divine Art existed.

It was a last bastion, used only in the direst of moments.

But those who did know of it said the same thing:

“The Jaha Divine Art is a supreme art unmatched throughout heaven and earth.”

Every time it was used, the world itself trembled.

A century ago, when everyone believed Mount Hua would be annihilated by the Demonic Cult, the opposite happened—the Demonic Cult suffered devastating losses and was forced to retreat to the Ten Thousand Mountains.

All because a single young swordsman unleashed the Jaha Divine Art.

And that divine sword in his hand… was me.

Anyway, enough boasting.

“It’s not like there’s no way at all.”

Just as I had made the Jaha Divine Art possible, if Jincheon had found something like me, perhaps he could have brought the Jaha Demon Art into the world as well.

It was only a hypothesis—and an unlikely one.

“A sword like me isn’t exactly common.”

Fine swords and famous blades were plentiful, but divine swords?
Not so much.

Before I was locked away in a dusty room, every sword in the world trembled before me for a reason.

Still, I can’t say there were none like me.

Even now, there existed the Heavenly Demon Divine Sword, which was nearly my equal—though in truth, that one was rather lacking.

I also heard that the Wudang Sect possessed something called the Taiji Divine Sword, but I’d never met it myself, so I can’t say for sure.

“Even if I scour my memories, I can’t recall more than ten swords that even came close.”

So yes, the odds were low—but not impossible.

“Even for me, there’s still much in this world I don’t know.”

After all, even the Gilnang, the treasure I’d recently obtained, had been completely unknown to the world until now.

Who’s to say there aren’t more such hidden treasures?
There must be—perhaps quite a few.

Some might even prove useful.

For now, I decided to shelve that thought and return to the main issue.

“He must have needed my help… yet he didn’t come to Mount Hua. There must’ve been a reason.”

Not every divine artifact could assist Jincheon.

For instance—even if the Heavenly Demon Divine Sword was magnificent, could it channel the Jaha Divine Art?

Absolutely not.

If the Heavenly Demon himself had grabbed me and tried to use the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, even he would’ve died on the spot—his organs bursting one after another.

The energies contained within the sword and the art would have clashed fatally.

Not just with that art—with any demonic technique, I was completely incompatible.

Righteous techniques worked better with me, but demonic ones always collided violently.

By that logic, the Jaha Demon Art should also have been incompatible with me…
But this case was different.

Because the Jaha Demon Art was rooted in the Jaha Divine Art itself.

The traces of it were all over its verses and formulas—it wasn’t even hidden.

Which meant that if I had been there, Jincheon might well have been able to master it.

Honestly, from my perspective, I couldn’t imagine failing.

Jaha Divine Art—how many years had I wielded that?
A few tweaks wouldn’t stop me from mastering it.

Jincheon must’ve known that too.

Yet he didn’t seek me out.
The easiest, most reliable path—and he didn’t take it.

That left only two possibilities:

“Either he barely managed to find a substitute for me… or his body had already deteriorated beyond recovery by then.”

The second seemed far more likely.

Even before leaving Mount Hua, Jincheon’s body had already reached its limits.

Everyone said he wouldn’t live long.

Even I couldn’t believe it at first—
That Jincheon, who left distant Mount Hua, reached this very Cheonmun Monastery, and still managed to develop a new martial art—a demonic one—based on the Jaha Divine Art.

It was enough to make anything seem possible.

And with that realization, I noticed my mistake.

“I’ve been thinking about this wrong from the start.”

I’d only held onto a faint hope.

I’d assumed Jincheon had failed and died long ago—
After all, no word of him ever reached Mount Hua again.

If he’d recovered, he might not have returned—but we’d have at least heard something.

But now that I think about it—no.

Even if Jincheon had restored his body through the Jaha Demon Art, he still could not have returned.

He might even have feared letting any word of him reach Mount Hua.

Why?

The answer was in the name itself.

Jaha (Purple Twilight).
Magong (Demonic Art).

Yes—demonic.

Regardless of his reasons, he had touched the demonic path.

Could he have accepted that? Could he have faced Mount Hua, the sect he so loved and sought to protect, after doing so?

No—he would not have.

Even if there had been no other substitute, Jincheon would never have returned.

How could he tell them he had trained in demonic arts—and ask for help?

“You really had no way out, did you?”

He had found what might have been the only possible path—
And that path turned out like this.

Of course, this was still only my conjecture.

But this time, I had a feeling I wasn’t far off.

And then—

“What am I supposed to do with something like this?”

Suppressing the throbbing pain in my head, I looked at the wooden tablet in my hand.

It had been left behind by a disciple of Mount Hua, so it was only right for Mount Hua to reclaim it.

But the problem was—it was a demonic art.

“Still, they can’t destroy something left behind by the man who once saved them from annihilation.”

Mount Hua would likely take it and hide it away.

Not because they were magnanimous, but because if word got out that Mount Hua possessed a demonic art, it would cause chaos across the martial world.

“Once it’s in Mount Hua’s hands, it’ll never see the light of day again.”

If it couldn’t be thrown away or destroyed, the only option was to seal it—
So that no one would ever see it.

That was probably the right choice…
And yet, I found myself hesitating.

“What if I kept it instead?”

It was just a thought experiment at first.

If I took it—if I mastered it—would it be of any use to me?

The honest answer—without exaggeration—was:

“I’m not sure this is the kind of martial art I need.”

The Jaha Demon Art Jincheon left behind was extraordinary, no doubt.

But was it better than the Jaha Divine Art?

Without hesitation, I could say—no.

Its destructive power might surpass anything under heaven, since it used magi, the most potent energy in existence.
So for smashing enemies to bits, yes—it would be perfect.

Jincheon had certainly designed it with flair.

But that was its only strength.