Ch 33
#The Start of Cultivation (1)
– The Dark Hall of the Hubei Division, Murim Alliance.
A space so dark one might mistake it for the Heavenly Demon Hall, devoid of windows or lamps. A place usually so silent that even breaths echoed hollowly, oppressive in its stillness.
“Hmm, hmm, hmm.”
Today, inexplicably, a cheerful tune flowed from the lips of a clever-faced, lovely woman.
Her name was Zhuge Somi, also known as Jihwa.
Deputy master of the Dark Hall and perpetually overworked.
“What’s got you so giddy?”
“Ah, you’re here.”
Zhuge Sang, finally arriving for work, frowned at his granddaughter who’d pulled an all-nighter. They say aging leaves only pride and loneliness – his bored, solitary commute seemed proof enough.
Frankly, he was curious. What possessed his homebody granddaughter to stay overnight?
“Agent 103 sent word.”
“What?!”
Zhuge Somi waved a small letter. Zhuge Sang groaned, clutching his neck. That Agent 103 again? Abandoning her grandfather for some faceless brat! What if he’d collapsed on the way home?
“I told you not to get emotionally involved with my agents!”
“It’s not emotions, Grandpa. Work! Agent 103’s mission is secure. He’s heading to meet the Heavenly Demon now—”
“Go—!” Zhuge Sang barked.
“Ah! Must you shout? My ears!”
“Who’s ‘Grandpa’? Address me as Hall Master!”
Honestly, how childish. Zhuge Somi turned away with a pout.
“Yes, Hall Master. May I leave now?”
“Fine.”
As she strode out, Zhuge Sang trailed behind casually.
“Why are you following me?”
“Your grandfather has business too.”
“You insisted on ‘Hall Master’!”
“Off the clock, I’m not.”
Infuriating.
“Ugh, where are we going? I haven’t slept!”
“Tsk. So concerned about Agent 103 meeting the Demon, yet forgetting to pay respects to the Alliance Leader as a junior?”
Zhuge Somi froze.
“The... Alliance Leader?”
“The Righteous Path Junior Conference is in ten days.”
“Oh. Right.”
She’d completely forgotten. The annual plum-blossom season gathering of the Alliance Leader, elders, and rising righteous talents.
Zhuge Sang clicked his tongue.
“Prepare now and we’ll arrive timely.”
She longed to postpone it, but the ensuing years of nagging about lost face deterred her.
“Fine! Let me change at home first.”
“Dress prettily.”
“Why?”
“You’re marriageable now. I’ll find you a good match there.”
Zhuge Somi’s face burned crimson. M-men?! She wasn’t some child needing arranged matches!
Rubbing goosebumped arms, she sped ahead.
“No! Let’s go as-is. No need to wash!”
“Who’d want such a slovenly girl?”
“Plenty would!”
“I should hope so.”
“Ugh, let’s GO!”
Zhuge Sang watched her stomp away, worry and amusement warring. This time, he’d find her a proper match at the conference – better than pining over Agent 103.
‘Fear not. I’ll secure your perfect match this time. Heh.’
His booming laughter echoed through the halls.
Jang Yi-seo awoke at dusk.
“Finally up?”
Mao sat on a flat stone in a forest clearing, feeding their campfire. The Dragon-Slaying Sword leaned against a nearby tree.
Groaning, Jang Yi-seo sat up. He recalled collapsing from agony... yet now felt no pain.
“What happened?”
“What happened? I carried you back like luggage. Since when does the master piggyback his aide?”
Third time already. Even during anti-espionage days, he’d never fainted so much. Pathetic for a spy.
“How’d we escape?”
“Blind luck. I’d exhausted my energy communicating with this thing—” Mao nodded at the sword “—couldn’t open the Demon Hall’s door. Father summoned me, and there you were.”
Jang Yi-seo’s eyes locked on the blade’s unearthly glow.
“You reclaimed the divine artifact?”
“Obviously.”
His eyes shone. The artifact wasn’t just a sword – it was succession itself. With it, no sect door stayed closed, no order denied.
‘Does he care that much?’ Mao swelled with pride at Jang Yi-seo’s delight.
Of course.
‘This artifact removes all restrictions. The mission just got easier.’
They were on the same page, but dreaming different dreams.
Jang I-seo quickly regained his composure and returned to the main point, asking,
“Was there anything unusual while you were bringing me out? Like, anyone you ran into?”
No one had seen him enter the Heavenly Demon Hall.
Of course not. He’d used the secret passage to come and go.
But if the Dragon Lord or others had witnessed him being carried out of the Heavenly Demon Hall, it would’ve caused complications.
As Jang I-seo stared at him intently, Mao gazed at the distant mountains as if sifting through memories and muttered,
“Nothing.”
Phew. Jang I-seo swallowed a sigh of relief.
“When I came out, everyone who’d been waiting seemed to have left.”
“Even the Dragon Lord?”
“No. The Dragon Lord was there. He was waiting at the foot of the Three Thousand Steps. Kept pestering me about why you ended up like that. That guy’s seriously strange.”
Mao scowled, grumbling. A relief. If he’d only seen them at the Three Thousand Steps, he wouldn’t have witnessed Jang I-seo emerging from the Heavenly Demon Hall.
“He does seem the type to stick his nose everywhere. More importantly… was there anything else?”
“What else? He just said you looked frail and scrawny.”
“Haha…”
Thanks, you brat. Jang I-seo forced a bitter smile and nodded. At least Mao hadn’t spouted nonsense. No use inviting misunderstandings.
Jang I-seo stared at the crackling bonfire, deep in thought.
So there was only one troublesome matter left to explain.
“But how the hell did you even get into the Heavenly Demon Hall?”
This guy—Seventh Prince Mao.
Jang I-seo casually tossed a log into the fire and answered,
“How else? I opened the door and walked in.”
“Are you insane? Who do you think you are to barge in like that?”
“Who dragged a half-dead man all the way to the outpost insisting he be taken to the Heavenly Demon Hall?”
Fair point. Mao rolled his eyes upward and scratched his head.
“Hey, asshole! Then you should’ve come in earlier!”
“I went as soon as I woke up.”
“Do you know I almost died?”
“If you nearly died in the Heavenly Demon Hall, then it was simply your time. The Sect Leader had his reasons for killing you.”
“You heartless bastard! Just say it—was it me or the Sect Leader?”
Neither, dumbass. Jang I-seo stifled a laugh. Mao crossed his arms and asked,
“Did you meet the Bright Seat Guardian on your way out?”
“The Bright Seat Guardian was there?”
“Yeah? He was standing at the entrance when I went in. Didn’t you see him? We were having a great chat before he vanished.”
The Bright Seat Guardian had been at the entrance? That was unexpected. If he’d been guarding the door even when Jang I-seo met the Sect Leader…
“He wasn’t there when I left. Did he just leave without waiting?”
“Probably.”
“Whaaat?! Why?! We were getting along so well!”
“That’s your delusion.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ah, just talking to myself.”
Jang I-seo turned his head, brushing away useless thoughts. No point dwelling on it. He could only hope the Guardian had left swiftly.
And to his immense relief, the Bright Seat Guardian had departed immediately—to spread news of Mao reaching the pinnacle of martial arts.
This meant the Seven Star Palace would soon face turmoil, though neither of them could know that yet.
“Anyway, what did you talk about with Father to end up like this?” Mao asked, furrowing his brow as if hiding concern. Jang I-seo silently glanced down at his abdomen.
Without answering, he eyed the Dragon Slayer Sword and asked,
“Is this really all the Sect Leader gave me?”
“Huh?”
The Dragon Slayer Sword—a gift commemorating his adoption. Even if it was a confiscated item being returned, it felt underwhelming for the feat of opening the Heavenly Demon Hall.
Of course, questioning a divine artifact’s worth might seem ungrateful, but precedents existed:
The First Prince, Cheon Moo-gi, received the Clear Sky Stone upon first opening the Hall.
The Second Prince, Moo Han-seong, inherited the Overlord Fist from two generations prior.
The Third Princess, Sa Hae-ryeong, acquired the Phantom God Step—a near-uncatchable movement technique.
Others received comparable treasures, making his reward perplexing.
“That’s it? But he said he acknowledged me! Must’ve recognized my genius! Wahahaha!”
You’re thrilled over that*?* Jang I-seo shook his head and studied the sword again.
At a glance, it seemed unremarkable—a grayish, almost rectangular blade with an engraved ascending dragon.
Yet the Heavenly Demon didn’t bestow empty praise. As Jang I-seo eyed it skeptically, Mao smirked and warned,
“Don’t panic.”
Snap! Mao suddenly gripped the sword. Nothing happened—until he channeled his energy. Whooosh! The blade glowed orange, sizzling as it radiated blistering heat.
“This is…”
“Wahaha! Impressed? I used this to start the fire! Cool, right?”
Jang I-seo nodded quietly. This time, he was surprised. Using a sacred artifact as kindling… What a madman.
