Chapter 22 …
Demonic Arts
From time to time, the Intention Army would come to provoke him, but they would still end up with their faces grabbed by the Sword Spirit.
The Sword Spirit didn’t find their antics bothersome—if anything, he found them cute.
Watching this, Jeok Hwa-myeong (Red Flame) couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the Intention Army.
They didn’t know the secret of why the Sword Spirit could so effortlessly place his hand on their faces. From the start, they had defined it as “sorcery” and kept challenging him, never realizing the truth.
What the Sword Spirit used wasn’t martial arts—it stemmed from his natural temperament.
As long as the Intention Army didn’t understand this, they would never be able to dodge the Sword Spirit’s hand. That’s why Jeok Hwa-myeong pitied them.
“Back then, did that many people really suffer?”
The Sword Spirit had spent a short time as a guest at the Shin Chang Family estate and had grown close to Jeok Hwa-myeong during that period.
“Yes. The Demonic Cultivators abandoned human morals to train in heretical martial arts. Because demonic arts grant great power through attributes, it was hard for any martial artist to resist their temptation. In particular, many from the Unorthodox Sects were seduced by demonic arts. Of course, there were also righteous martial artists who fell into it.”
The Sword Spirit listened intently to Jeok Hwa-myeong’s stories about the demonic practitioners.
He already knew some of what had happened fifty years ago from Cheon Nam-yeon, Gu Yeong-cheol, and Jeon Mo. But he knew nothing about what had happened in the martial world afterward, so Jeok Hwa-myeong’s tales were fascinating.
He also liked comparing these stories with what he had heard from his three teachers, forming his own standards and perspectives.
“People think demonic arts are incredible, but in truth, they’re incomplete martial arts. That’s why they change one’s very nature.”
Cheon Woo recalled the words of his three elders about demonic arts.
“Because of that, anyone who practices demonic arts will inevitably develop a ‘Jo-mun (Control Gate).’”
“If you meet them, just smash them flat and be done with it. Why waste time looking for some Jo-mun? A man knows, right!”
Remembering their words, the Sword Spirit smiled faintly.
“By the way, I heard that those who practice demonic arts inevitably develop something called a ‘Jo-mun’ (Control Gate)…”
“Jo-mun?”
Jeok Hwa-myeong had never heard of such a thing. In fact, no one in the martial world knew about it.
“Yes! My grandfathers and grandmother told me. Demonic arts are incomplete, so inevitably a Jo-mun forms.”
“Huh, that’s something new.”
Jeok Hwa-myeong didn’t care whether it was true or not. He just pretended to believe him.
“Who was stronger—Sa Myeong-ok from thirty years ago, or Go Dok Ma-ya (Grandfather Cheon Nam-yeon) from fifty years ago?”
“That’s hard to say. Sa Myeong-ok was very strong too. But martial artists of that time used to say that if Go Dok Ma-ya, Ghost Demon Emperor Gu Yeong-cheol, and Jeon Mo the Medicinal Sage had still been around, Sa Myeong-ok wouldn’t have dared to rise up.”
“I see. So Grandpa and Grandma were really that strong.”
“Of course. Those three were said to be the strongest figures in the history of the martial world.”
The Sword Spirit felt an inexplicable happiness.
Very few people were remembered and respected by future generations like his masters were.
“You brat! I may look shabby here, but I was the eternal patriarch of the Unorthodox Sect. When I walked into the martial world, people would fall to their knees and bow with all five parts of their bodies touching the ground!”
Ghost Demon Emperor Gu Yeong-cheol often said this when bored—and it really seemed to be true.
“By the way, Sword Brother.”
“Yes?”
“What kind of people were your teachers?”
“They were the strongest in the world. So strong they had no equals. Didn’t you just say it yourself?”
Jeok Hwa-myeong blinked.
“When did I say that?”
“Just now—about Grandfather Go Dok, Grandfather Ghost, and Grandmother Jeon Mo.”
Jeok Hwa-myeong stared blankly for a moment, then asked again,
“Wait, are you saying you were their disciple?”
“That’s right.”
Jeok Hwa-myeong was unsure whether to believe this or not.
Those three had disappeared fifty years ago, and countless people had since falsely claimed to be their disciples.
Many used their names to live luxuriously in the martial world, only to be exposed later and suffer disgrace.
During the demonic outbreak thirty years ago, some who claimed to be disciples of the three were brutally torn apart by demonic practitioners.
Even claiming to be the disciple of just one of the three would invite skepticism—claiming to be the joint successor of all three was beyond belief.
Besides, it was said the three weren’t particularly close when they were active, so no one could imagine someone becoming the disciple of all three.
“Is that really true?”
The Sword Spirit nodded.
Of course, no liar would ever admit to lying.
Jeok Hwa-myeong had thought well of him up until now, but hearing this changed his view a little.
“You’d better not go around telling people you’re their disciple.”
From his eyes alone, the Sword Spirit could tell Jeok Hwa-myeong didn’t believe him.
It was a little disappointing, but he was used to no one believing his words, so he didn’t take it to heart.
Even if others thought it was a lie, he wasn’t lying.
“Why?”
“Because many people in the past have claimed to be their disciples—and all met miserable ends.”
The Sword Spirit narrowed his eyes.
“Are there people like that even now?”
“Not anymore. If you claim it now, you’d probably be the only one.”
“Then that’s fine. If there were others, I wouldn’t have left them alone…”
He doesn’t seem like a bad person, Jeok Hwa-myeong thought.
He had met the Sword Spirit by chance at an inn, and now he worried that going around claiming to be those three’s disciple might get the young man into trouble.
Traveling together might not be a bad idea.
“Do you have a destination in mind?”
“No. I’m planning to travel across the Central Plains. My grandfathers and grandmother told me to meet many people and experience the world. They also told me to look for a few people if I get the chance, but it’s not mandatory, so I don’t have anything particular to do.”
“I see.”
His calm, steady expression and tone made Jeok Hwa-myeong wonder if it might actually be true.
“Who are these people you’re supposed to find?”
“…”
“I’m also on a journey across the Central Plains. It might be good to travel together and help you find those people.”
“Really?”
“I have no reason to lie to you.”
The Sword Spirit nodded.
“It’s nothing urgent, so I can find them after touring around. I haven’t even figured out why I need to find them yet.”
“I see. This journey won’t be boring with you around.”
“Have you traveled a lot before?”
“I wouldn’t call it traveling. I just wandered around the Central Plains visiting old friends.”
“Then let’s do that this time too! Introduce me to lots of people. I was told to make many friends.”
Jeok Hwa-myeong could only give a strained smile at the Sword Spirit’s bright grin.
That night, beneath the bright moon, the Sword Spirit sat on the roof of the annex, gazing at the moon.
“Now that I’m out in the martial world, everyone’s singing Grandpa and Grandma’s praises. It makes me proud.”
The three elders seemed to be smiling contentedly from their place on the moon.
“But people are strange. Why won’t they believe I’m their disciple?”
He felt both hurt and disappointed.
“You fool! That’s just jealousy, plain and simple.”
He remembered Ghost Demon Emperor Gu Yeong-cheol saying that to him once.
“So that’s why. But it doesn’t matter anymore. No matter what anyone says, I am their disciple.”
Just then, he spotted someone wandering a short distance away.
“Who’s that?”
It was Hyeon Jin-myeong.
From the rooftop, the Sword Spirit watched his movements carefully.
In a flash, he leaped down from the roof and dashed toward him, blocking his path.
An evil energy was flowing from Hyeon Jin-myeong’s body. Unlike normal energy flow, his energy was circulating in reverse.
“You are…?”
Hyeon Jin-myeong flinched when he recognized the Sword Spirit.
“I heard you were from Cheonmyeong Manor. Is the martial art you practice truly Cheonmyeong Manor’s?”
Hyeon Jin-myeong froze at his question.
The martial art he practiced was supposed to be a secret no one could know.
He had obtained a manual for Shura Explosive Heaven Art (修羅爆天功, Sura Pokcheon-gong), a demonic technique, from an old bookstore by chance.
He had been drawn in by its promise of rapid power growth and secretly trained in it.
The technique amplified the power of his Cheonmyeong Manor arts two or threefold.
This was the true power of demonic arts.
On the surface, he seemed to be practicing Cheonmyeong techniques, but in reality, his inner energy was filled with Shura Explosive Heaven Art.
No one could tell—not even sense it.
But when he reached the fifth level, a problem arose.
This was why demonic arts were called inhuman and depraved. Up to the fourth level, it was manageable, but from the fifth level onward, it awakened a craving for human blood.
Hyeon Jin-myeong had tried to suppress it, but eventually, his demonic nature got the better of him. He was sneaking out of Shin Chang Manor to satisfy his thirst when he ran into the Sword Spirit.
The essence of martial arts never changes: righteous, unorthodox, or neutral—they all have energy flowing in the proper direction.
But Hyeon Jin-myeong’s energy was flowing backward.
“I’ll ask again. Is the martial art you’re practicing truly Cheonmyeong Manor’s?”
