Chapter 6
I channeled the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art, focusing the small amount of inner energy I had into my hand.
Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art – First Form: ‘Demon’s Ghost Hand.’
With a swift strike—‘snap!’—a falling leaf was split in half.
It was a skill I couldn’t have achieved with bare hands alone, and I felt deeply satisfied.
The pain that had been coursing through my body also subsided a little.
While it was an unbearable, all-encompassing ache before that kept me from sleep, now it felt more like a dull soreness, as if bruises were scattered across my body.
The situation had changed. Before, I was forced to settle for moss, but now I could afford to go for something more substantial.
My target was a snake that slithered among the strange trees—something I had tried to catch before but failed.
I waited for my inner energy to recharge, and once ready, struck like lightning.
Shhhk!
My first strike missed. The snake recoiled and bit my neck.
I immediately grabbed it and threw it to the ground, but the venom had already started spreading.
I’d been through this before—a horrific pain, not deadly but insidious, dragging up painful memories I thought I’d buried.
“Son.”
I looked back to see a shadow of my father hunched in the darkness, beckoning me.
I approached, ignoring his flickering figure and the voices that echoed all around.
“Shut up.”
‘I am no longer the person I once was.’
‘I’m no longer ‘Jeokwoon’… You are a phantom, and even if you were alive, I’d still see you as a ghost.’
“You said you wanted to eat.”
A new voice chimed in. I glanced toward a tree to see an apparition of the Heavenly Demon peering out at me.
“Or are you planning to go back to moss?”
The world wavered.
I leaned against the tree, struggling to steady myself.
Where did the snake go? Which way did it flee?
I strained to listen, but there was hardly a sound. Snakes slither quietly, after all.
But I kept focusing.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“…”
“Keep focusing, keep pushing—you’ve got to climb higher, don’t you?”
The apparition didn’t only bring poison; sometimes, it sparked something within me.
“The true me is waiting far above, beyond even your gaze.”
Would she say something like that? I didn’t know.
But I did know one thing: I had to claw my way upward, no matter what.
A rustle came from the bushes. I gathered the last remnants of my energy and executed ‘Demon’s Ghost Hand.’ My fingers closed around something.
This time, before it could bite, I snapped its neck.
The snake went limp. The apparition of the Heavenly Demon gave a slight laugh.
“You’d make a decent hunter.”
“I’m only hunting to master the sword.”
I looked to where she’d been, but she had disappeared again.
Was the poison dissipating?
I could feel the Endless Tribulation stirring, drawing out the venom from my system.
I placed the snake’s head in my mouth. After two months, I finally tasted meat again.
It wasn’t delicious.
But it was better than moss.
“… Just wait, Heavenly Demon Cheon Soso.”
I muttered to the now-vanished figure of the Heavenly Demon So-so.
“I’m coming after you. Always.”
———-
After the snake, I managed to catch some unknown animals.
One creature that looked like a squirrel was particularly vicious, leaving me with quite a few scratches.
The poison seeped even into the marks left by the claws, but the Endless Tribulation automatically filtered out the toxins.
My wounds healed at a rapid pace. If you removed the pain, it was a strange substance that was nearly all-purpose.
Each night, I could feel my bones slightly twisting, as if the Heavenly Tribulation, which had rooted itself wherever it pleased, was now reshaping my body to its own taste.
It was adapting my body for martial arts, making me suitable to learn anything. Yet I instinctively understood that, even if the Endless Tribulation altered my structure, it wouldn’t grant me innate talent.
Martial artists who were born with skill possessed keen minds, heightened senses, or abilities that allowed them to perceive what others couldn’t.
Compared to them, what was I? I held a sword, but could only rely on touch to sense things. My inner energy was limited to just a handful.
Correcting my skeletal structure alone wouldn’t be enough. I needed to work even harder.
I reduced my sleep. I used every bit of time I had to refine the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art.
My inner energy gradually built up, and, surprisingly, the creatures I consumed in this place were like small elixirs.
Blood, flesh, and bones—all contained intense demonic energy. Of course, absorbing them meant ingesting toxins, which brought its own agonies, but for me, that was not an issue.
The Endless Tribulation filtered out the poisons on its own. All I had to do was consume, tear, and accumulate demonic energy.
This energy wasn’t pure inner strength; it was a corrupted demonic force.
Compared to orthodox inner energy, its quality fell short. It felt more overwhelming by sheer volume.
Even at its peak, this corrupted inner energy would likely be weaker in direct combat against orthodox sword energy.
But the longer the battle continued, the one whose inner energy would last would undoubtedly be me.
“Number Twenty-Nine. Number Thirty. Survival confirmed.”
Twenty-Nine and I never exchanged a word. That suited me just fine, so I refrained from initiating conversation.
Though we were paired, we were like strangers. Once the roll call ended, we would split off in different directions, only reuniting again for the next roll call.
I moved up from feeding on four-legged squirrels to slightly larger two-legged birds. They were harder to catch and more aggressive, but they were worth the effort.
Everything here that could be eaten contained both poison and inner energy, with the latter correlating to the creature’s size.
The deadlier the creature, the greater the strength it provided. It was a simple rule.
I liked this place. I couldn’t have a warm meal or a comfortable bed, but those weren’t things I had in the first place.
This place felt more natural to me than my post as a gatekeeper. I had been enduring all my life, after all.
“Uh… Excuse me.”
During my training, someone approached me.
A man with ‘Seventeen’ written on his black hood asked in a trembling voice.
“What… should I eat here?”
Ah! A newcomer.
This likely meant his predecessor had died. I looked at him quietly.
When I first arrived here, what did I do? As I remembered, everyone had shown hostility toward me.
… But still…
I didn’t particularly want to, but because I didn’t want to become like the others, I kindly shared what I knew with him.
I didn’t go as far as hunting and giving him meat, but I did tell him he could eat moss and drink water.
He bowed his head in gratitude and nodded.
Three days later, I ran into him again, groaning in discomfort, and he looked horrified as soon as he saw me.
“How… How did you eat that moss?!”
I told him about the poison in the moss, but judging by his reaction, it seemed the pain was worse than he’d expected.
I didn’t fully understand, but I kindly advised him that it would get better if he endured it.
A week later, just as I was about to enter the deep forest, I met him again. He looked hesitant this time as he extended something towards me.
“Thank you for your help earlier.”
In his hand was a snake. It was still warm, freshly caught, and missed its head.
It was the first time someone had offered me warmth in return.
I accepted it without a word. Smiling brightly, he introduced himself.
“I’m Seong Jamyeong.”
“Apologies. But I can’t reveal my name.”
“That’s fine. I just wanted to share mine.”
Seong Jamyeong was unlike the typical inhabitants of the cult. He reciprocated kindness and was the first to reach out to new members.
“As they say, kindness returns in kind. Besides… I don’t want to become a beast.”
He had a strong personality. He was gentle yet steadfast. I found myself liking him.
He was the kind of person you didn’t often see, even in the orthodox sects, and I couldn’t help but be drawn to him.
He was a good man. Together, we often hunted beasts.
Now, we were able to catch creatures larger than birds—small, four-legged animals with horns.
Though we could only manage to capture young ones, it was still enough for the two of us to eat.
“Why did you come here, Brother Thirty?” he asked, changing my designation, “Thirty,” to “Brother Thirty” as he pleased.
“To climb higher.”
“To reach the peak of the sword, huh… It’s a common goal among martial artists.”
His carefree personality showed even in the way he ate. He tore off his hood and shoved food into his mouth with unrestrained vigor.
“Still, half of what I eat ends up as waste.”
“Why talk about that while eating?”
“Haha. Well, it’s part of life’s charm, isn’t it?”
Even though we’d grown closer, he never dropped the formalities. Sometimes, he even showed a hint of sadness.
“I have siblings to support, Brother Thirty.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
“One body won’t be enough for that.”
“You’re right. That’s why I’m here, throwing everything I’ve got into this. How far have you learned in the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art, Brother Thirty?”
“I haven’t mastered the first stage yet.”
“Same here. It seems we have a lot in common,” Seong Jamyeong chuckled. “If we’d met outside, perhaps we’d still have been connected.”
“Pfft.”
I liked his honesty, too, and wiped my mouth with my sleeve.
“Who’s to say we couldn’t?”
“Heh. Being in Devil’s Valley doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.”
Seong Jamyeong was amusing. He maintained boundaries but also had a warmth that made him feel close.
“You don’t use a sword, do you, Brother Thirty?”
“I haven’t learned.”
“If you want, I could teach you.”
“My body isn’t ready yet… it’s still a bit early to hold a sword.”
“Oh. So you’re studying the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art on your own? How far have you learned in form?”
“I’m still working on the first form.”
“Devil’s Ghost Hand, I see. It’s a technique that’s simple yet intricate. My knowledge is limited, but perhaps you could gain something from it… Would you like to see?”
“… Gladly.”
He didn’t hesitate to help others, and through what he taught me of Demon’s Ghost Hand, I was able to progress further.
The framework of the first form became much clearer. In return, I brought Seong Jamyeong a snake, and he laughed heartily.
“Brother Thirty, you’re always so consistent.”
He was a good person.
So when I found him half-dead, I was at a loss for words.
“… Haha.”
He lay in the undergrowth, a visible sword wound slashed across his abdomen. His spilled innards were beyond saving, mangled and destroyed, and he leaned against a tree, barely clinging to breath.
“Brother Thirty.”
“I’ve shown you an unfortunate sight.”
“…”
I knelt before him.