Chapter 198

Chapter 198: Chaos Is a Swamp That Draws Everything In (2)

Sage Hyeon-so sat on a bench, staring blankly at the setting sun. The children watched him with puzzled expressions.

Ever since Cheon O-gyeong had departed that morning, Sage Hyeon-so had been like this—sitting in the same posture all day long, like a man whose soul had departed.

His body was here, but his spirit seemed to be elsewhere entirely.

Normally, the children would have swarmed around him and pestered him. But sensing something unusual in his demeanor, even they refrained from disturbing him, watching from a distance.

Within Sage Hyeon-so's mind, countless thoughts whirled. Even in stillness, they arose one after another, trailing one another like links in a chain.

The countless thoughts flickering and fading.

Sage Hyeon-so's eyes gazed into the distance.

When he had been at Mount Hua, he had vaguely believed that diligent cultivation would someday allow him to become an immortal. But the Dao he so fervently sought did not exist at Mount Hua.

'The Way of Humanity.'

That was the phrase that had filled his mind instead.

It had been several years since he had lost his disciple and descended from Mount Hua to wander the world. In that time, Sage Hyeon-so had encountered countless human spectacles.

Some had been blinded by greed for wealth; others had lost themselves to the thirst for power.

Some lived in misfortune, while others enjoyed happiness beyond measure.

'What is it that divides human beings so? Is it the desires they are born with, or the environment that surrounds them…?'

His contemplation continued without end.

His earnest inquiry carried his spirit to a distant, hazy place.

There, clouds floated, and the world spread out below. The world that had seemed so vast when he left Mount Hua now appeared as small as his palm.

Sage Hyeon-so looked higher still.

His spirit, knowing no satisfaction, reached further upward. He felt that if he could just stretch out his hand, the truth of the world he so desperately desired would be within his grasp.

At that moment—

"Junior Brother!"

A cold voice shattered Sage Hyeon-so's meditation entirely.

The world shifted.

When he opened his eyes, the world above the clouds had vanished without a trace. Before him stood a middle-aged man with a cold, severe countenance.

The man's features were as sharp as a honed sword, and the sight of him drew a sigh from Sage Hyeon-so's lips.

"Senior Brother Hyeon-geom."

"It has been a long time."

The man who spoke with a voice as cold as his appearance was none other than Sage Hyeon-geom, known as the Mount Hua's Greatest Sword. Behind him, Un-gyeong stood with a sheepish expression.

Sage Hyeon-so cast a wistful glance at his own hand.

Enlightenment was like sand—slipping unconsciously through his fingers. Had he been given a little more time, he felt he might have grasped something. But his hand was empty.

He did not know when such a moment might come again. Perhaps it would never come at all.

That knowledge filled him with regret.

Sage Hyeon-so released his regret with a gentle sigh and rose.

"Senior Brother, what brings you here?"

"I came to Shouzhou and heard you were here, so I stopped by."

"……"

"How long will you keep me standing?"

"Please, sit."

Sage Hyeon-so gestured to the seat across from him. It was where Cheon O-gyeong had sat the night before.

Cheon O-gyeong had departed as abruptly as he had appeared. But the resonance he had left behind was anything but small. Their conversation had given Sage Hyeon-so much to ponder.

He had been so delighted during their exchange, yet now, facing Sage Hyeon-geom, his chest felt tight.

'What, then, is the difference between a person of the Demonic Path and a person of the Orthodox Path?'

Cheon O-gyeong, a member of the Demonic Cult, had seemed more like a righteous martial artist, while Sage Hyeon-geom, the greatest swordsman of the prestigious Mount Hua Sect, exuded a demonic, tyrannical sharpness.

Sage Hyeon-geom swept his gaze over Sage Hyeon-so with eyes as sharp as his sword.

"So much time has passed, and yet you remain unchanged."

"How could a person not change? I too have changed a great deal."

"Judging by the look in your eyes, perhaps so."

"Senior Brother?"

"Do you still resent me?"

"……"

"So it seems."

Sage Hyeon-geom's eyes glinted coldly.

His gaze cut into Sage Hyeon-so's chest like a blade.

"I still do not regret what I did that day."

"Senior Brother!"

Sage Hyeon-so raised his voice. But Sage Hyeon-geom continued regardless.

"Though Cheon-gyeong's special qualities may stand out now, at the time, that child was of no benefit to Mount Hua. Anyone other than I would have reached the same conclusion."

"Ho's fame now shakes the world, and yet Senior Brother still refuses to acknowledge that child."

"I believe only what I have seen with my own eyes."

"Ahh…"

Sage Hyeon-so sighed once more at the sheer obstinacy of his senior brother.

His senior brother remained as stubborn as ever, unable to acknowledge others. That stubbornness weighed heavily upon Sage Hyeon-so's heart.

A brief silence fell between them.

Sage Hyeon-geom was the first to break it. His eyes had fallen upon the children huddled together, watching them with frightened expressions.

"Is it these children this time?"

"……"

"Cheon-gyeong was the same… You truly are consistent, Junior Brother."

"They are merely children with nowhere else to go."

"Hmph!"

"Is that all you came to say?"

"I came to bring you back."

"I told Un-gyeong clearly. I will not be returning for some time."

"That is why I have come."

"Senior Brother!"

"I take no pleasure in this, but the Grandmaster has instructed me to bring you back. I have no choice."

"I see…"

"No matter how much you deny it, you are an elder of the Mount Hua Sect. Never forget that."

"I have never once forgotten it. However…"

Sage Hyeon-so's gaze turned to the children. They stared back with fear clearly etched on their faces.

The raw terror of being abandoned was palpable.

Sage Hyeon-so's gaze hardened.

"I cannot leave these children behind."

"You always choose the harder path when the easier one is before you."

Sage Hyeon-geom's eyes grew colder still. An ordinary person would have been unable to meet that gaze, yet Sage Hyeon-so, who knew no martial arts, bore it.

His resolve was palpable.

Sage Hyeon-geom took a step back.

"Very well. I will take the children as well. But they will not be accepted as disciples of the Mount Hua Sect."

"It matters not. If the children do not wish it, I will not raise them under Mount Hua's wing either."

"Hmph!"

Sage Hyeon-geom snorted and turned away.

He noticed Un-gyeong, who had been standing by, watching.

"Take Hyeon-so and the children to the Shouzhou branch."

"But that place is far too dangerous."

"We will depart for Mount Hua directly from there. There is no danger whatsoever. With me present, what danger could there possibly be?"

"I… understand, Martial Uncle."

Un-gyeong answered with a helpless expression.

It was the decision of Sage Hyeon-geom, the Mount Hua's Greatest Sword. He could not presume to object.

His eyes fell upon Sage Hyeon-so, who was comforting the frightened children.

"Ahh…"

A sigh escaped him involuntarily.

***

Mount Heng was also known as the Northern Peak.

It was one of the Five Sacred Peaks of the Central Plains, long renowned as a strategic military location. The mountain range, stretching more than four hundred li from east to west, served as a bulwark against the incursions of northern tribes.

Since ancient times, the Mount Heng Sect had been highly famous. At its height, it had rivaled the Nine Great Sects, but now it had fallen and barely maintained its lineage.

The glory of the past had long since faded, yet the massive hall complexes remained as testimony to their former grandeur.

The prestigious Mount Heng Sect, which had endured for centuries—until just recently, more than three hundred disciples had lived here, driven by the ambition to restore its former glory.

The training ground where Mount Heng Sect's martial artists would normally have been practicing was now occupied by strangers. Numerous martial artists, all radiating unusual auras, filled the space.

They were the martial artists of the Demonic Cult, as the world commonly called them.

At dawn some days ago, the Demonic Cult's forces had assaulted the Mount Heng Sect. Sect Leader Jwa Gyeong-hak had led his disciples in a valiant defense, but they could not withstand the Demonic Cult.

In the end, Jwa Gyeong-hak and more than three hundred disciples perished heroically, and the Demonic Cult claimed their place.

Even now, the Demonic Cult's forces continued to converge upon Mount Heng. The once-vast halls of the Mount Heng Sect were filled to capacity with Demonic Cult martial artists. One might reasonably call it a miniature Demonic Cult.

Among the many, one woman stood out in particular. A beauty as conspicuous as a flower blooming alone in a swamp—Eum Yu-gyeong.

As she walked, her hem brushed softly against the ground. Many eyes followed her, but Eum Yu-gyeong paid no heed to any of them, moving with serene aloofness.

Her mind was deeply troubled, leaving no room to notice others' gazes.

People commonly held the prejudice that those of the Demonic Cult must be dripping with demonic energy. But save for the deity they served, most were ordinary human beings. It was simply that the martial artists among them were so powerful that the others were overshadowed.

They had been driven to the margins of the world for decades. Their resentment was so vast that it showed no signs of subsiding.

It felt like witnessing a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Eum Yu-gyeong bit her crimson lip and murmured.

"This will not do."

"What will not do, Saintess?"

At that moment, a strange voice cut into her words.

Eum Yu-gyeong turned to see a familiar face.

A middle-aged man dressed in blood-red martial robes. His cheekbones jutted prominently, and above his hawkish nose, bloodshot eyes glowed with a sinister light.

Behind him, a long object wrapped in cloth was visible.

Though the Demonic Cult boasted numerous martial artists, there was only one with such distinctive features.

'Blood Abyss Judge, Deung Cheon-so.'

One of the Seven Great Demons, a lunatic obsessed with blood. For this reason, even within the Demonic Cult, many feared Deung Cheon-so.

Deung Cheon-so spoke.

"I did not ask. What will not do, Saintess?"

"It was merely a soliloquy."

"Is that so?"

Deung Cheon-so fixed Eum Yu-gyeong with his red eyes. She met his gaze without flinching. He bared his yellowed teeth in a grin.

"Come to think of it, it has been quite some time since you returned. Yet for someone of the Saintess's standing, have you not been rather… lax?"

"Being the Saintess does not mean I must remain constantly at the Holy Sect."

"That is true, but I am asking you to show a bit more concern. Do not wander the world searching for the Holy Artifact without purpose."

"The Holy Artifact is a sacred relic that symbolizes our Holy Sect. How can you call the search for such an object pointless?"

"I did not say it was pointless. I am merely saying that you appear to be working too hard."

"I am not working hard at all."

Eum Yu-gyeong replied bluntly.

Though the remark might have been awkward for another, Deung Cheon-so simply laughed.

"As expected of the young—full of energy. Very well! Since the Saintess says she is fine, I will say no more. I only hope you will conduct yourself wisely."

"And I hope the Blood Abyss Judge will restrain his distasteful habits. The killing karma you accumulate for amusement will inevitably return upon you one day."

With those final words, Eum Yu-gyeong walked away.

Deung Cheon-so watched her retreating form. A faint anger smoldered in his red eyes.

'Insolent!'

His shoulders trembled.

Only when Eum Yu-gyeong had completely disappeared did Deung Cheon-so call for someone.

"Hyeol-u."

"Yes!"

A man in red martial robes materialized behind him—his trusted confidant.

"Keep an eye on her. It would be troublesome if she actually finds the Holy Artifact."

"Understood."

"And find out who she meets."

"Yes!"

With that, Hyeol-u vanished.

Alone, Deung Cheon-so smiled a cold smile.

"The Saintess, indeed. Ridiculous. An artifact of a bygone era presumes to obstruct the Cult Leader's designs…"

Then someone approached him.

"What are you muttering about?"

The young man appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Deung Cheon-so did not dare treat him lightly.

"Leader of the Cheoncheon Group."

"It has been some time."

The man who cupped his fists in greeting was Jo Ja-gyeong, leader of the Cheoncheon Group.

"What brings you here?"

"I have a debt to repay."

Jo Ja-gyeong's gaze turned toward Shouzhou. A chill glinted in his eyes.

'Cho Yeon-woon.'

Deung Cheon-so smiled broadly at the sight.

"You have come at the perfect time. I was just thinking of paying my respects over there."

"Respects?"

"Have you not heard? So Cheonsan—our friend—has also arrived."

"You don't mean the Ten-Li Reaper?"

Jo Ja-gyeong's pupils trembled as though struck by an earthquake.