Chapter 167
A few days earlier.
A bolt of red cloth arrived for Choi Iryang.
The feel of the finest fabric slid smoothly beneath his fingertips. Its vivid color and pattern instantly called to mind the long robe worn by Cheon Muryeong. There was no doubt about it. This cloth had been sent by that man, Jeilak.
Cheon Muryeong’s intent was clear.
The time had come.
What kind of “time” he meant was obvious enough that there was no need to ask.
…When you think about it, your fate is no less miserable than mine, Cheongak.
Leaving Jin Cheongak receding behind him, Choi Iryang headed once more for the Chil-ya Hall.
He had waited for this moment for a very long time.
It seemed to have taken two or three years longer than he had anticipated.
I should have found Jin Cheongak sooner.
If he had, the matter could have been dealt with outside the sect.
Being slain by Gwangbyeok was considered the finest form of retribution, and so, under the Cult Leader’s order to deal with the apostate Gwangbyeok, Jin Cheongak had been dispatched without hesitation.
In truth, Jin Cheongak never returned after being sent to Gwangbyeok.
Everyone believed him dead.
[“Sword Demon, it’s certain that the apostate killed the Second Young Lord! Drag him to the Chil-ya Hall at once and tear his limbs apart before everyone’s eyes!”]
[“Calm yourself. I’ve already sent men. Gwangbyeok is not someone even the current Supreme Commander can handle lightly, is he not? For my brother who met such a violent end, I intend to deal with this thoroughly. Do not worry.”]
[“Young Lord, if you would just give the order, we will immediately—”]
[“Let me be clear. Do not approach Gwangbyeok without my permission. I do not wish to see what happened to Cheongak repeated. I hope this warning will not be taken lightly.”]
Of course, he had never intended to deal with Gwangbyeok.
To Choi Iryang, Gwangbyeok felt like a rather useful tool for eliminating his rivals.
The only thing that troubled him was the fact that he had never seen Jin Cheongak’s corpse with his own eyes.
Demanding the body of a young lord in a calm, dignified manner would diminish the authority of the Heavenly Demon Cult, so he sent several people under the guise of revenge. None of them returned.
That, in turn, only strengthened his certainty.
That Jin Cheongak was dead.
And so, if he just endured a little longer—just a little—he believed that the Heavenly Demon Cult, that the Paradise Pill, would fall into his hands.
A foolish delusion, as it turned out.
[“Th-the Second Young Lord… Jin Cheongak has returned! The young lord has come back alive!”]
[“What? Then the rumors were true? What I heard—was it really so? The young lord has…”]
[“Indeed! Absolutely! The Second Young Lord spent years in cultivation to mete out divine punishment to the apostate Sword Demon, and at last fulfilled that long-cherished wish before returning! Come, let us go welcome him!”]
Whenever he recalled that day…
[“The Heavenly Demon is undefeated, all demons bow! We greet the Second Young Lord!”]
[“The Heavenly Demon is undefeated, all demons bow! We greet the Second Young Lord!”]
[“Long live him! Long live him! Long live him!”]
Amid the crowd chanting threefold acclamations, that sly gaze fixed triumphantly on him—
Every time he remembered it…
[“I, Jin Cheongak, have returned at last after carrying out the Cult Leader’s command. …Have you been well, Elder Brother? You look even more radiant in my absence.”]
To quell the heat surging up beneath his sternum, Choi Iryang slowly regulated his breathing.
He could have killed him then and there.
But he could not.
At Choi Iryang’s side, there was no master capable of disposing of Jin Cheongak without anyone noticing. And Cheon Muryeong, the closest thing to one…
Refused.
—Crunch.
Cheon Muryeong… You truly never move according to anyone’s wishes. Once I obtain the Paradise Pill, you will be the first I deal with.
Cheon Muryeong’s reason for refusing was simple. The only times he set foot within the Heavenly Demon Cult were moments achieved through puppet techniques.
Why Jeilak—hailed even as the greatest under heaven—kept his distance from the Heavenly Demon Cult was unclear. Choi Iryang only suspected that the Black Night Palace lay at the heart of it.
…and so, how long a path he had taken.
At last, Choi Iryang’s steps reached the Chil-ya Hall.
The door he opened himself revealed an interior devoid of any human presence.
He crossed the quiet, desolate hall at an unhurried pace, opened the seven windows, and stopped before the wide round table at the center.
Creeak—
Pulling back a chair, Choi Iryang sat and turned his head to the right.
From the chair placed beside the northern window of the Chil-ya Hall, one could see the main palace of the Black Night Palace standing intact not far away.
The Cult Leader’s palace.
An inviolable space where no one could set foot without the Cult Leader’s permission.
Thus…
A door Choi Iryang had never once crossed.
As his gaze clung stubbornly to the Black Night Palace, a man suddenly entered his sight.
The man—Jin Cheongak—ascended the steps with his usual ease and, as if it were nothing at all, opened the door to the Black Night Palace and disappeared inside.
Jin Cheongak was always like that.
He always opened that door so effortlessly.
The very door Choi Iryang could only ever look upon.
Creeeak—
At that moment, the tightly closed doors of the Chil-ya Hall opened once more.
Footsteps—neither light nor heavy—slowly drew closer.
Like a butterfly alighting upon a petal, the one who gently took a seat across from him was…
The guest Choi Iryang had been waiting for.
The head of the Wi family.
“Have you read the letter I sent?”
Her voice was remarkably calm as she asked.
No matter how many times I see it, I can’t get used to that face.
Rebirth through bone and marrow—having reached a realm he had only heard of in words, the Wi Family Head had returned as a truly young woman.
Her expression, too, was serenely detached, giving off an impression even more difficult to approach than before.
Even more so than prior to her entering secluded cultivation.
[“It is an ill-timed and perhaps shameless thing to say, but on the day you return, Family Head Wi, I, Choi Iryang, will surely retrieve Cheongak’s corpse.”]
[…]
[“So please, go without worry. And you as well, Family Head, should at last set aside your stubbornness and help me usher in the Heavenly Demon Cult’s second golden age—”]
[“That sounds premature. Let us speak of it after I return.”]
[…]
[“I will wait. Please keep that promise.”]
That cold, unyielding woman—now reaching out to clasp his hand the moment she returned.
It felt suspicious.
“I have read it.”
“Then there is no need to waste time. I will take the hand of the Choi family. In exchange, allow me to confirm the death register.”
In exchange?
Choi Iryang scoffed inwardly at the Wi Family Head.
The outcome has already been decided.
Still, her support would be of great help in earning the believers’ trust once he ascended to the position of Cult Leader.
Moreover, he needed a way to verify her sincerity.
Sincerity, hm.
Come to think of it.
It had been a very long time since he last sat across a round table from the Wi Family Head.
As he remembered it, the last time was more than fifteen years ago.
[“…You intend to become the Young Cult Leader? Ha ha! Such lofty dreams. Well now… Your disciple might gain a rival, Wi Dano.”]
At his father Chopaeryeon’s hearty laugh, the Wi Family Head—who had been sharing tea with him—turned to look at Choi Iryang.
Is that really something to mock?
He had spoken with courage, yet the one who soothed his wounded, childish heart was the Wi Family Head.
[“A man ought to harbor ambitions of that scale. Devote yourself with passion and sincerity to sword training. If you catch the Cult Leader’s eye, even that impudent Cheongak may feel threatened and pull himself together.”]
[“…Cheongak—do you mean that short little brat who plays around with Yi-hyeon?”]
Chopaeryeon fixed him with a stern gaze.
[“Second Young Lord. Mind your words, Choi Iryang.”]
[“Why be so careful? He’s just a child—what could he know? Well, he’ll grow soon enough. His parents did.”]
Taking a sip of tea, the Wi Family Head chuckled softly and asked,
[“Does he seem easy because he’s small?”]
[…]
[“The former Cult Leader personally selected him. He looks like a mischievous brat on the surface, but… his talent—how should I put it? Watching him is frightening, at times.”]
[…]
[“Learn much from each other. As the heir of the Choi family, you may well become a good stimulus for Cheongak too.”]
Learn from each other?
Regrettably, such a day never came. Less than three years later, Choi Iryang was forced to abandon martial arts.
Innate talent.
One head, two arms, two legs.
Born with the same limbs, yet one is recognized for his aptitude from an early age and becomes a young lord, while another must grasp a hand extended from outside the sect just to barely stand at the same height.
This was unfair.
“Why do you wish to see the death register?”
The Wi Family Head fell silent.
After studying her unperturbed face in silence, Choi Iryang waved a hand.
“No, never mind. I won’t ask for your reason. There is something far more important.”
Something more important.
Yes. There is something else that matters.
“Bring me Jin Cheongak’s right hand.”
So as not to jeopardize the great undertaking. And…
“Do not kill him.”
To witness Jin Cheongak’s end with his own eyes.
“If the right hand proves difficult, the left will do. A left foot, a right foot—any will suffice. Offer Jin Cheongak to me and prove that your choice is sincere. Then…”
“….”
“I will show you the death register.”
Choi Iryang was curious.
Would the Wi Family Head accept this proposal, little different from coercion?
The answer that came at last was—
“Very well.”
A light assent, as if nothing could be easier.
