CH 34
A child who hasn’t even mastered the basics, let alone advanced techniques. For now, it’s confiscated.
#The Beginning of Training (2)
“Now?”
At the command to swing, Mao paused before nodding. It wasn’t a complicated task.
He slowly raised the Changlong Dao in front of his face.
“How’s that? The posture’s taking shape.”
Yeah, with a spit of water, he’d look exactly like a street thug.
Jang I-seo snorted at the pitiful movement.
But right then—
“Here, lightly… swish?”
Mao’s sword abruptly moved as if possessed by a grandmaster, descending toward Jang I-seo with a force capable of splitting heaven and earth.
Crack!
A lightning-like strike! Fail to dodge, and death would follow.
Jang I-seo’s eyes bulged as he jerked his upper body backward, barely deflecting the Changlong Dao.
Slice!
A strand of hair fluttered to the ground.
Silence hung for a breath before Jang I-seo leapt up, roaring.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“Huh? Oh…? Why did that happen?”
“Are you joking right now?!”
“Ugh!”
But it wasn’t over.
Swishswishswish!
Mao, as though dragged by the sword, pressed Jang I-seo with overwhelming force.
Strength. Weight. Speed. Variation.
The blade’s tip carried intricate subtleties—movements impossible for a novice.
This couldn’t be happening without a master’s possession.
“Jang I-seo! Save me—!”
Mao screamed as his qi raged like a torrent, his body slipping beyond control.
Left unchecked, disaster loomed.
‘Subdue him.’
Zap!
Electricity surged through Jang I-seo’s body before—thud!—a ruthless kick infused with the Seven-Point Supreme Technique slammed into Mao’s face.
“Ack!”
Mao collapsed, jaw dislocated, as the sword clattered to the floor.
Clang!
With the blade discarded, the crisis ended.
Jang I-seo steadied his breath, observing Mao writhing like an upturned insect, and pondered:
‘Divine weapons mirror their owners’ history and will. Mere metal at first, they grow attuned to their wielder’s qi and martial arts over time.’
Hence tales of farmers seizing demon blades to slaughter kin, or frost blooming on steel from infused qi.
Mao’s outburst fit this pattern.
The Changlong Dao likely channeled its previous owner’s lingering will. A divine weapon recalling its master’s arts and moving autonomously.
And the sect leader surely knew this.
‘Heavenly Demon… Could the sword truly contain that as its gift?’
If so, regardless of its past wielder, this martial art surpassed imagination in potency.
‘Its intense reaction also hints at favor toward Mao’s Extreme Yang Constitution. I must research those who mastered Extreme Yang arts.’
Then…
“You are absolutely forbidden from channeling qi into the Changlong Dao without my permission.”
It would remain sealed until Mao gained control.
“Reckless use could harm even Chil Gong-ja.”
And everyone nearby.
“Hey, I’m already hurt! Can’t you see my jaw? Damn, this hurts!”
“Just answer properly.”
“Fine, I get it! What even is this thing? It’s not cursed!”
Mao stood, eyeing the sword on the ground like a grotesque creature. His body had moved on its own—terror was inevitable.
Jang I-seo sighed, retrieved the blade, and handed it back.
“Your homework. Did he assign anything before the next visit?”
“Of course. He told me to dodge the wind blades he shoots.”
Hah. Jang I-seo exhaled in disbelief.
Those same blades aimed at him earlier? This wasn’t homework—it was a death warrant.
If he had barely avoided them, how could Mao?
The sword must have blocked them unconsciously.
“Fail to dodge, and he’ll kill you too.”
A mountain of troubles.
“So here’s the plan. I’m going in.”
“Where?”
“The cave.”
“Explain.”
“Closed-door training. After three years, even Father would forget me, right?”
You propose this now? By then, the Young Sect Leader would have emerged, their mission concluded. Jang I-seo massaged his temples.
“When’s the next dawn assembly?”
“A month from now.”
Too tight. Jang I-seo heaved a sigh. Mao added quietly:
“Training’s the only way.”
“Apparently.”
“Right. So act like you’re dead for the next month and focus.”
“What nonsense—”
“In a month, we meet the Sect Leader.”
“Hey!”
Mao yelled, but Jang I-seo ignored him, watching embers rise in the distance.
No alternatives remained.
Survival demanded solving the Sect Leader’s “homework.”
Mao had to.
And so did he.
Jang I-seo lowered his head, studying his palm.
Dark veins bulged before fading like a breath.
He knew what this meant.
‘I… am dying.’
A shock—to die by his own unraveling.
A side effect of encountering the Heavenly Demon.
‘This is my gift to you.’
The demon’s qi permeating his body.
Its meaning required no deep thought.
His dantian’s turbid energy had vanished, replaced by pure demonic qi.
Indeed.
At this moment, Jang Yi-seo's body was coursing with demonic energy.
The vile, perilous energy of a heavenly demon—something his fractured vessel could never hope to contain.
'Your task is clear. Find the means to heal your body. Time, however, is not your ally.'
Only one month remained.
Devour or be devoured.
Such was the countdown to his fate.
Among Cheonsan's most dangerous villages, one invariably ranked within the top three.
Donwoo Village (豚牛村).
True to its name meaning "Pig and Cow Village," it originated as a settlement of butchers who raised and slaughtered livestock.
Little had changed—except now, the "pigs and cows" were believers, and their butchers...
The Slaughter Gang (屠殺幫).
They were the ones occupying this brothel, plain and simple.
Within a sealed chamber resembling a pleasure house, crimson lantern light seeped through hazy smoke.
This den bore the name Seokhwaru (色花樓).
A depraved, low-class brothel serving as the Slaughter Gang's stronghold.
In its innermost room sat three men flanked by near-naked courtesans, alongside the twin assassins who had ambushed Jang Yi-seo and Mao. Yodo-soon stood rigidly with hands behind his back, delivering his report.
"So you fled alone in the end?"
The query came from a man in opulent silk robes among the seated trio, his chuckle laced with mockery.
Every inch of him exuded aristocratic refinement—utterly misplaced in this den of vice.
His status confirmed it.
Ma Yi-sin.
Legitimate heir to the Ma family, foremost among the Demon Cult's clans, and Mao's lifelong tormentor.
Ma Yi-sin—the "Bloodless Duke" (無血公).
Peerless talent of his generation, rivaled only by Grand Duke Cheon Mu-gi.
His features were sharp, frame slender yet sensually alluring.
Half-lidded eyes radiated decadence, hardly surprising given the white powder dusting the table before him.
Soul-Dispersing Powder (迷魂散)—a hallucinogen clouding the mind.
"I...I had to report the aide's unexpected prowess..."
Yodo-soon stammered, sweat beading his brow. His twin had died instantly—resistance meant suicide. What else could he have done?
"Impudent whelp."
As Ma Yi-sin sneered, his companion intervened:
"Ease up, brother. His twin's dead—he sacrificed a life to return. No need for harshness."
"Th-thank you!"
Yodo-soon bowed deeply, tension evident. Small wonder—his defender was the Slaughter Gang's second-in-command.
A temperamental madman known to split skulls with axes when displeased.
The younger Sa brother: "Mad Dog" (狂犬) Sa Ho-jeong.
Towering frame, wild curls, eyes glinting with violence—danger incarnate.
"Your name again?"
"...Yodo-soon."
"Right. You're an executive."
"Yes, sir."
"Then you brought a limb from your brother's killer. Yes?"
"Sir...?"
"You didn't return empty-handed. An eye? Arm? Something."
"But..."
"Speak, slow-wit!"
Sa Ho-jeong grinned, index finger scratching beneath his nose as he drew an axe. Yodo-soon's heart hammered, knees trembling—
"Enough."
The growl came from their silent companion.
"Drink. Don't make me repeat myself."
Tiger-like ferocity, bear-like build—a command brooking no defiance.
"Damnation! You always interrupt!"
The eldest Sa brother—Slaughter Gang's top enforcer.
"...Silence."
"Tch...humiliating."
The only man who could quell Sa Ho-jeong with a glance.
Evil spirit tattoos coiled across his body, iron rings adorning every finger.
"Who defeated you?"
The Slaughterer (屠殺者) Sa Do-cheol.
Thus, the trio steering the Slaughter Gang's machinations turned their focus fully upon Jang Yi-seo.
Sa Do-cheol. Sa Ho-jeong. Ma Yi-sin.
Their alliance within Seokhwaru's walls defied logic.
The Sa brothers—Cheonsan's most notorious assassins—embodied cruelty through hallucinogens, kidnappings, and wanton slaughter.
Ma Yi-sin, however, carried noble bearing in his slightest gesture, born to privilege and power.
That such pedigree would consort with butchers baffled observers.
Yet appearances deceived.
Ma Yi-sin had found no kindred spirit within the Demon Cult matching the Sa brothers' resonance with his soul.
Hence his patronage—suppressing scandals, enabling atrocities.
The reason?
Simple congruence in chaos.
Because they are the most primal in this sect.
If they dislike something, they destroy it.
If they want something, they take it.
If they need something, they tear it apart—starting with the clothes.
That’s their violence.
It was because they possessed that.
The current Heavenly Demon Sect hides its true nature beneath silk robes and enforces strict doctrines. Yet, its ruthlessness is reserved only for those who oppose it—far from the ideal he envisioned.
He believed that if one worships power, then pursuing the violence that embodies it is the right path.
That’s why he thought primal individuals like the Sa brothers were the most ideal talents the sect could hope for.
The attitude of being ready to tear everything apart at a moment’s notice.
Just like now.
“So. Who got you?”
“It was Jang I-seo. I saw him take an arrow and confirmed he was poisoned. I thought we had already won…”
“But?”
“But then, out of nowhere, he came crashing in like a thunderbolt… and in just one day, he wiped that guy out. Just one day…”
As Yodo-sun spoke, his eyes grew distant, lost in memory. It was so unbelievable that even after seeing it, he couldn’t fully accept it.
At that moment, Jang I-seo looked like a savage beast cloaked as a scholar—a monster capable of tearing everything apart and killing without hesitation.
“But what shocked me even more was what came next. I heard only one strike, yet Sa-heun had seven points ruptured—from his face to his groin. He moved seven times in an instant… So I ran. I’m sorry.”
As Yodo-sun finished his explanation, Sa Ho-jeong and Mai-shin glanced at Sa Do-cheol.
Is this even possible?
Not only did he take down Yodo-sun—a high-ranking member—in one day, but he also crushed seven vital points at once…
Sa Do-cheol, without any change in expression, indifferently looked at Yodo-sun and said,
“No need to apologize.”
And then.
“Kkh!”
He suddenly stood up and grabbed Yodo-sun’s face with one hand.
Yodo-sun was tall and had long hair, but Sa Do-cheol’s size and grip were overwhelmingly dominant.
“Guhhh…”
As his hand shot upward, Yodo-sun’s legs dangled in the air, swaying helplessly.
Mai-shin and Sa Ho-jeong were wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what was happening.
“Swoosh!”
Without hesitation, Sa Do-cheol lunged forward.
Then, Crash!
He smashed Yodo-sun’s head into the wall.
“Gahk!”
With a scream, Yodo-sun’s face contorted like a skull, his mouth wide open.
Immediately after, an overwhelming, merciless energy erupted from Sa Do-cheol’s body like a storm.
“Grrr!”
He clenched his massive fists, adorned with iron rings, and pulled them back behind his shoulders.
And then, Bam!
His fists exploded forward, striking Yodo-sun.
The speed was so fast that only afterimages were visible, and even those were obscured by the shattered and flying debris, making it hard to remember clearly.
But one thing was certain.
“So Yodo-sun wasn’t lying after all. Mystery solved.”
As Sa Ho-jeong shrugged his shoulders, Yodo-sun, ranked fifth, had proven his words with his own death.
With just one strike, seven points on his chest were obliterated.
