Chapter 8

Beautiful and cozy places are often compared to an Immortal Realm[1] or Peach Spring of Wuling[2]. Such descriptions suggest places as beautiful as the worlds where immortals dwell.

But this place was undoubtedly a true immortal realm.

Chirp chirp chirp.

Small, pretty birds perched on trees, singing their songs.

Crunch crunch.

Deer with sleek, glossy coats grazed leisurely. Though they must have sensed human presence, they paid it no mind.

Gurgle gurgle.

A stream flowed on one side while the sky remained perfectly clear without a single cloud.

Flower petals danced with the wind, performing their own ballet. The warm breeze carried the rich scent of spring, and exotic flowers bloomed abundantly nearby.

Holy shit….

What is this?

It was definitely winter now. Though this region might be warmer than the north, it should still be quite cold.

Yet here it was spring?

What the hell? Am I dreaming right now?

Cheon Hajin pulled both his cheeks with a dazed expression.

It hurt.

Not a dream?

Suddenly, his eyes flashed.

An Illusion Formation[3]?!

A formation that deceives the five senses to create visual and auditory illusions is called an Illusion Formation.

Since it was winter, this scenery made no sense. Moreover, hadn’t he just entered a building rather than staying outside?

This area must be covered by an Illusion Formation.

However…

How can a formation be this realistic?

To be an assassin, one needs considerable expertise in formations.

Furthermore, to be called the King of Assassin, one must acquire nearly expert-level knowledge of formations.

Yet even Cheon Hajin found himself unsure about the authenticity of this Illusion Formation – its quality was that high.

Though he couldn’t be certain, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a top-tier formation in the martial world.

Well, it’s certainly nice regardless.

He had always dreamed of retiring from the martial world and building a large house in a place exactly like this. This was precisely the ideal location he had imagined.

As he gaped while looking around.

“This way.”

Holy shit, that scared me!

Cheon Hajin turned his head toward the voice.

“…!”

His eyes caught sight of a large pavilion.

A pavilion that hadn’t been there moments ago. There was no way he could have missed such a large and classical structure.

And there, a man wearing an imperial dragon robe sat with his back turned.

Crunch.

His fingers involuntarily curled into fists.

After staring at the man’s back for a moment, Cheon Hajin slowly began walking.

Thud. Thud.

Each step was careful and deliberate.

Then something astounding occurred.

Rustle.

Grass grew up to his shins where he stepped, then immediately withered and crumbled as he lifted his foot.

When he took another step, new grass would sprout, only to wither and die as he moved on.

Life was contained in one step, death seeped in with the next. Yet Cheon Hajin, focused on the man’s back as he walked, failed to notice this phenomenon.

Cheon Hajin walked as if entranced.

The eyes of the man, who was bringing a cup to his lips, flashed.

Life and death?

After slowly lowering his cup, he looked around.

The peaceful immortal realm’s ambiance gradually encroached upon his world that had been a precipice.

…Interesting.

After some time passed.

Flinch!

Having reached the steps opposite the pavilion, Cheon Hajin’s feet suddenly stopped.

He sensed something inexplicably wrong.

Huh?

Cheon Hajin quickly looked around.

The world remained unchanged. Exotic flowers bloomed abundantly while deer and birds roamed peacefully.

I definitely felt something strange though?

Flinch!

Suddenly, an unidentifiable sharp pain shot up his spine to the back of his neck.

“….”

Startled, Cheon Hajin massaged his neck.

It felt like being stung by a bee. The sharp pain cleared his mind.

How should I put this… though I’m not sure why…

Strong light gleamed in his eyes that had been clouded until now.

This place is dangerous.

Mind and body are ultimately one.

Though he had never known peace of mind for even a day, three months of unprecedented luxury had made both his mind and body more pliable.

But the Assassin King’s instincts, honed over a lifetime, wouldn’t disappear in mere months.

The instinctive warnings that had called out countless times before awakened again in this unfamiliar environment.

And they told him. That this place wasn’t safe.

Knowing something intellectually and truly ‘understanding’ it deep in your heart are completely different things.

Only now did Cheon Hajin clearly recognize just how dangerous this place truly was.

How dangerous was it?

Dangerous enough to suppress even the sixth sense engraved in my soul!

He placed one foot on the steps.

-Thump.

His heart beat.

-Thump -thump.

His gradually rising gaze opened the world above bit by bit.

Shuffle.

Finally, Cheon Hajin ascended to the pavilion.

“Sit.”

Whoosh.

The deep, resonant voice that struck like it had been waiting was truly magnificent. Cheon Hajin’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

A man entered his field of vision.

The man was reclining with one arm propped up, languidly pouring wine.

Glug.

The cup filled gradually.

But Cheon Hajin’s attention was captured not by the cup, but by the man himself.

He’s huge!

Truly a magnificent physique.

His frame reached nearly seven feet, and his broad shoulders reminded one of mountains.

His hands were also enormous, with fingers completely wrapping around the rather thick wine bottle.

Disheveled hair covered half his face, and the inner garment beneath his carelessly worn imperial dragon robe was so loose that his entire chest was visible.

His muscular yet smooth chest and upper abs were dizzying to behold.

It was difficult to gauge the age of his half-visible face.

Abundant hair without a trace of frost and skin without a single wrinkle. Yet he didn’t give off any impression of youth.

A surprisingly languid and decadent atmosphere that didn’t match his build.

This atmosphere was created by experience and composure that youthful vigor could never produce.

The Demonic Cult Leader!

Finally meeting the current master of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

This was the moment of encountering Lee Cheonsang, the Ninth Great Heavenly Demon[4] in history to receive the divine title of Heavenly Demon.

***

“Has the Third Young Master entered?”

“Yes.”

The middle-aged man, Mu-dam[5], the cult’s Grand Guardian, stared at the door with complicated eyes.

Mu-dam remained silent.

The man standing beside him with a stern expression spoke up.

“Is something troubling you?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I apologize. This lowly one spoke out of turn.”

Mu-dam didn’t answer this time either.

After some time passed.

“During our Cult Leader’s reign, only twice has anyone other than him entered the Demon Judgment Pavilion.”

His calm voice carried undisguisable tension and concern.

“Once was twenty-five years ago, when the Cult Leader accepted his first disciple.”

The man’s eyes sparkled.

“The first disciple… you say?”

“Yes.”

“Then, the First Young Master?”

“No. The First Young Master became our Cult Leader’s disciple exactly twenty years ago.”

“Are you saying there was another disciple before the current First Young Master?”

“Yes. And that shadow disciple whom you don’t know died here in the Demon Judgment Pavilion.”

“…!”

“He died with his entire body torn apart as if mauled by beasts.”

The man’s face turned deathly pale.

“Did the Cult Leader…?”

“If the Cult Leader had intended to kill him, he wouldn’t have brought him here in the first place.”

That made sense. But it made everything even more incomprehensible.

The man, having never entered the Demon Judgment Pavilion himself, didn’t know what kind of place it was.

He only knew that it was the Cult Leader’s favorite private pavilion.

“Then who was the second person to enter?”

“The Chief Military Officer.”

“…!”

“The supreme authority who oversees all major and minor affairs of our cult.

The only man in our cult who reached the position of being above all but one through intellect rather than martial arts. He was the second person to enter the Demon Judgment Pavilion.”

“That person…”

“Yes. He walked out proudly.”

Mu-dam’s eyes deepened.

“As of today, the Demon Judgment Pavilion has opened for the third time. Will the Third Young Master be able to return alive?”

***

Rising tension drained the strength from his knees while pounding in his abdomen and lower back.

After that single command to sit, Lee Cheonsang remained silent. He simply continued slowly filling and emptying his cup.

Creak. Creak.

Cheon Hajin took light breaths as he walked another step, then another.

When he was about five steps from the drinking table.

“I pay my respects to the Cult Leader.”

Lee Cheonsang’s eyes gleamed.

Cheon Hajin stopped walking and bowed respectfully. A subtle formality emanated from him.

“….”

After staring at him silently, Lee Cheonsang moved a cup that had been set aside to the opposite side.

Glug.

“Drink.”

Cheon Hajin straightened up, sat down, and picked up the cup.

The wine rippled. Its potent yet refined aroma made his head spin.

After closing his eyes briefly to savor the wine’s fragrance, Cheon Hajin drained the cup.

Damn, that’s good!

After drinking cheap liquor day after day, having such fine wine made his fingers and toes tingle.

He barely held back an exclamation of admiration that almost escaped his lips, carefully set down the cup, straightened his posture, and looked at Lee Cheonsang.

…!

This is different.

Lee Cheonsang’s presence across the small table was truly overwhelming.

Even without exerting any aura, he projected dignity like Mount Tai.

Every slight gesture, every short breath carried an oppressive pressure that weighed heavily on others.

The title of Grand Master of the Demonic Path, King of Ten Thousand Demons feels insufficient.

Though more skilled in politics than martial arts, that old bastard the Righteous Heavens Alliance Leader had also been counted among the world’s ten greatest masters.

He’d never seen the Iron Blood Fortress Lord, but they were probably similar in level. He himself had been slightly below those two.

This man was different.

Here was a martial god of the world’s strongest, who had no reason to be confined within the framework of the ten greatest masters.

He was a semi-immortal powerhouse who operated on an entirely different level, making it understandable why the demonic faction worshipped him as a god.

Before admiration came curiosity.

With such strength, why didn’t he step into the martial world?

Was he not interested in ruling the demonic world?

As Cheon Hajin tilted his head inwardly in contemplation.

“You asked to see me?”

The casually thrown words carried no emotion whatsoever. It was the epitome of indifference.

“Ah, yes.”

“Why?”

Damn, that’s cold.

Aren’t we supposed to be master and disciple? Is the master-disciple relationship always this harsh in these parts?

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Cheon Hajin cleared his throat a couple of times. In any case, this man clearly didn’t like beating around the bush.

Better be honest rather than making unnecessary excuses.

“I have a favor to ask… sir.”

“A favor?”

Was it unexpected? Lee Cheonsang’s eyes flashed again.

“What kind of favor?”

Cheon Hajin swallowed against the undiminishing tension. Now that he was actually trying to say it, he felt nervous.

Still, if he wanted freedom, he had to place his bet.

“Ahem! Well… I…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“May I leave the cult…?”

At those abrupt words, Lee Cheonsang silently stared at Cheon Hajin.

Cheon Hajin felt cold sweat running down his back.

Damn it, you idiot! Say it with some confidence! ‘I’d like to go out for a while!’ ‘I want to get some fresh air!’ That’s how you should have said it!

‘May I leave the cult?’ What kind of half-assed request is that?!

…Shit, it’s too intense!

Above all, the pressure was no joke. His back was completely drenched just from uttering that one sentence.

Well, at least I said it.

He’ll allow it, right?

Yeah, he’ll allow it.

It’s not like I’m going to cause trouble, just asking to go out? With my body in this state, surely he won’t refuse a simple request from his disciple?

He even lowered his eyes and put on a pitiful expression for good measure. He also relaxed his tense body to help set the mood.

Though it hurt his pride, once he got out of here his brutal life in the Demonic Cult would be over.

That would be the true beginning of Cheon Hajin’s new life. He was willing to dance like a monkey in front of the Cult Leader for that.

After some time passed.

Lee Cheonsang, who had been staring intently at Cheon Hajin, picked up his cup.

“Pour.”

“Ah, yes.”

Cheon Hajin respectfully filled his cup.

After slowly emptying his cup, Lee Cheonsang spoke.

“You want to leave the cult?”

“Yes.”

“Are you saying you wish to sever ties with our cult?”

Cheon Hajin blinked.

Uh… that was the plan, but I only said I wanted to leave the cult?

Ah! Come to think of it, this could be misinterpreted?

Cheon Hajin hurriedly opened his mouth.

“What I meant was…”

“Is the position of being my disciple not to your liking?”

“Huh? Ah, no! That’s not what I…”

“Or have you already given up because your body is in that state?”

“Well, you see…”

“Were you only worth this much?”

Swoosh.

Lee Cheonsang’s eyes sank deeply, endlessly deep.

Cheon Hajin’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down mercilessly.

…Fuck.

I’m screwed.