By Zephyria 
HF 15
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The old man looked at Mu-gyeong with a devastated expression, but soon masked it with a casual smile.
“I greet the Cult Leader.”
The old man did not perform the common cupped-fist salute, failing to show proper etiquette toward the Heavenly Demon. Nevertheless, Mu-gyeong indifferently drank his liquor.
“Allow me to pour you a glass.”
The hand that approached to grip the bottle was deeply wrinkled. The corners of his eyes were the same. He had aged far more than when Mu-gyeong last remembered him.
“Have you reached the state of becoming one with nature? If this humble one had felt even a fraction of the Cult Leader’s aura, I would have abandoned my worldly life and fled far away.”
The old man let out a hearty laugh, but he was visibly tense. He could not hide his emotions even while pouring the drink; the liquor in the glass continued to ripple.
“Sword Demon.”
At the low voice, Mu-gyeong’s gaze finally turned toward the Sword Demon.
In that instant, an intense demonic energy erupted from Mu-gyeong, who until then had been like a part of nature. It felt as if a massive explosion had occurred from a single condensed point, forcing the Sword Demon to plant his feet firmly.
Crack. The rocky ground sank deeply where the Sword Demon stood. Even though it was merely the release of suppressed energy, every nerve in his body tingled.
“Looking back, I realize I never once asked.”
Red eyes, devoid of any emotion, stared at the Sword Demon. The Sword Demon focused all his attention on the sword hanging at his hip.
“What are you referring to?”
“Why you sought to enthrone the First Young Master as the Cult Leader—I was never curious about that. Not once. That is why I did not ask.”
For a moment, violent emotion surged in the Sword Demon’s eyes.
“Why have you suddenly become curious now?”
The wind blew, but it could not even stir Mu-gyeong’s hair, merely swirling around the strange rocks before vanishing. The man had been like nature itself, but now it seemed as if nature were avoiding the man.
“Because I have finally grown curious.”
Mu-gyeong found it strange himself. The emotion of curiosity had certainly existed once, but it had long been forgotten. However, since the appearance of a mysterious existence, new colors seemed to be painted onto those forgotten emotions. Of course, seeking out the Sword Demon was not due to simple curiosity alone.
A sneer curled the Sword Demon’s wrinkled lips.
“You ask why I enthroned the First Young Master? Because the Cult Leader is not human.”
“Then, did you take in a beast?”
“No, he was human! He was a brilliant, manly man! But the Cult Leader who returned from the dead was not human!”
Even when everyone claimed Mu-gyeong had died, swept away by the Fire Dragon, the Sword Demon had searched for him. He searched for his pitiful disciple, who had been loved by no one, not even by his own master.
“Full of excuses. There was no point in asking, then.”
Rising to his feet, Mu-gyeong drank the liquor his master had poured for the first and last time. The Sword Demon knew this was the final mercy granted by the Heavenly Demon. If he did not attack Mu-gyeong now, he would die. Without missing the opening, he drew his sword in a single motion and unleashed the Hundred Ghosts Riot.
The Sword Demon’s image split into dozens of afterimages, but each was a physical clone. However, the true secret lay not in the clones, but in the speed of light.
Dozens of clones extended their swords from all directions to shred Mu-gyeong. Meanwhile, the Sword Demon’s original body moved with marvelous footwork, gliding toward Mu-gyeong’s shadow. The Sword Demon immediately thrust his blade into the mountain-like torso.
The Sword Demon felt the sensation of all his blades piercing Mu-gyeong’s body. His wrinkled eyes soon filled with ecstasy. He was on the verge of drooling as a long laugh escaped his excited lips. Mu-gyeong was indeed his pitiful and pathetic disciple—until he had survived within the deep, thick lava.
No, the Sword Demon knew that all of this was merely an excuse. He had envied his disciple for a long time. While he himself had been blocked by a great wall for decades, his martial arts achievements stagnating, why was there no such wall for his disciple? He had not desperately searched for Mu-gyeong after he fell into the lava. He had simply wanted confirmation that his disciple was truly dead.
There may be masters who take pride in their pupils surpassing them, but that did not apply to the Sword Demon. He was so obsessed with the sword that he had resorted to dark arts that should never be touched. Therefore, this time, he was right. The Sword Demon, having killed his disciple, wore a face that looked as if he were crying even as he laughed like an evil spirit.
“Does it not look wretched, even to a master’s eyes?”
When a low voice—one that should not have been there—sounded from behind, the Sword Demon stared blankly at the Mu-gyeong he had stabbed. However, the sword was merely pointing at the empty air; nothing existed in that spot. This was a true illusion. It was a level of mastery far beyond the Hundred Ghosts Riot he had deployed.
Simultaneously, the Sword Demon’s pupils turned blood-red. The energy he now emitted was not demonic energy, but blood qi. As he attempted to use the blood qi art, blood streamed from his eyes. By openly displaying the dark arts of the Blood Cult, the Sword Demon revealed that he had betrayed the Divine Cult. Yet, Mu-gyeong looked at his master with eyes that remained unchanged.
“The Cult Leader already knew of this?!”
The Sword Demon wanted to smash that indifferent face. He could not endure the gaze that looked down upon him as if he were utterly wretched.
“I see now that the Cult Leader did not come to see his master, but to track the Blood Cult!”
But even if his body were to be torn apart, the Sword Demon would not give the Cult Leader what he desired. The blood qi art, erupting from his body like blood, surged toward Mu-gyeong’s dark red demonic energy. However, a mere wave cannot swallow a tsunami.
As Mu-gyeong extended his hand, the tendons in the Sword Demon’s hand gripping the sword burst simultaneously, and blood sprayed out. Through a supreme void grasp, the sword betrayed its owner and attempted to fly toward Mu-gyeong. The Sword Demon was so crushed by the intangible energy Mu-gyeong released that the hand holding the sword was nearly pulverized. But why was he called the Sword Demon? Because he was called a ghost when it came to the sword.
Determined to achieve mutual destruction, the Sword Demon pushed his speed to the limit and lunged at Mu-gyeong. How could he treat his master so lightly? Enraged by the Heavenly Demon’s behavior of coming to meet him without even carrying a single sword, the Sword Demon thrust his blade straight through Mu-gyeong’s chest.
Thwack! In that instant, the sword, unable to overcome Mu-gyeong’s energy, plummeted to the ground, and the Sword Demon’s body was likewise driven into the earth. Even as his wrist bones were shattered, the Sword Demon tried to grip the sword, only to be further crushed by the dark red demonic energy enveloping the area.
But could this truly be called demonic energy? This energy, as pure and refined as blood circulating warmly through a human body, was not demonic energy. He wondered if this was the state of transcending demonicity, but suddenly, the Sword Demon began to cackle, his mouth splitting open. As blood flowed, turning his teeth and gums entirely red, he looked no different from an evil spirit.
The Sword Demon could feel the energy of the Fire Dragon interfering with Mu-gyeong’s internal power. Mu-gyeong had escaped demonicity and grown close to a god, but he had not become one. Because he was not free from the energy of fire, the Fire Dragon had ultimately become his shackle.
“Hehe, Mu-gyeong! You still haven’t escaped the lava of that day!”
In Mu-gyeong’s first approaching step, the weight of a mountain was felt; in the second, it was as if the lava that melts mountains was contained within.
Mu-gyeong pulled the sword that had pierced the rock and drove it through the Sword Demon’s neck. There was not a single unnecessary movement. The trajectory was a single line, as if drawn with a brush.
“Hehe, the Divine Cult is invincible… ugh, ten thousand demons submit!”
Even with his neck pierced, a burst of loud laughter erupted from the Sword Demon’s mouth. The man dying while spitting blood burned with a powerful hatred.
“Cough, hehehe. The inevitable fall of the divine cult, the extermination of ten thousand demons!”
As the Sword Demon’s head was severed by Mu-gyeong’s sword, it rolled away along with the liquor glass in a sudden gust of wind. Holding the sword from which blood dripped, Mu-gyeong finally looked down at the sea of clouds.
Even looking down from such a dizzying height, the ground was invisible, hidden by the stagnant clouds. It looked as if the clouds had spread an umbrella to shield his eyes. Soon, the sea of clouds swallowed the sword as it fell from Mu-gyeong’s hand toward the cliff. Though the sword cleaved the clouds, not a single inch ahead remained visible.
Normally, he would not have cared at all about what lay beyond the clouds. But in this life, he was curious about the sight hidden beneath the sea of clouds.
Wi Ho-yeon.
Mu-gyeong thought of the only variable that had appeared in his infinite life.