ch 23

 

Chapter 23

Having followed the Demonic Cult in their withdrawal, Munpyeong returned to their stronghold in a daze. He holed himself up in the Thunder Palace, refusing to emerge for days and nights. He was so ashamed before the heavens and fearful of the world's eyes that he could not bear to lift his head.

`I must have been mad. What on earth was I thinking?`

As time passed, the events at Jangchon village resurfaced with even greater clarity, driving Munpyeong to the brink. He vividly remembered that the spectacle had been witnessed not only by the Demon Shadow Corps and the Four Demonic Kings, but by thousands of martial artists at the same time.

It wasn't just members of the Demonic Cult who had been present that day. Masters from the most renowned Orthodox and Unorthodox sects were there, and even the beggars of the Beggars’ Sect had been gathered in one place. Now that they all knew of the relationship between him and Cheonma, Munpyeong was certain to become more famous for his status as Cheonma's male concubine than for his own name.

Of course, it was the truth, but even so, was there any need to flaunt such a private matter before the entire world? Their intimate affairs were the kind of thing best kept unknown to others.

`I’m really going crazy. Should I learn the art of face-changing? If I ever need to go out into the Jianghu again, won't I have to hide my face? How can I shamelessly show this face in public?`

It wasn't just the Jianghu; even walking around the cult's own grounds was a problem. He was already called a "southern curiosity," and now that they had seen that spectacle, what other harsh rumors would begin to circulate? He wasn't usually one to care what others said, but his heart was already pounding. It beat so fiercely that it refused to calm down.

He lay on Cheonma's vast bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket, and hid himself away like a silkworm in its cocoon. Fortunately, since their return to the cult, Cheonma had been so busy that he hadn't shown his face for days. Judging by the fact that he didn't even return to the bedchamber at night, it seemed he was sleeping in his office.

`If I see him in this state, I’ll just end up throwing a childish tantrum. I’ve just become needlessly spoiled.`

Munpyeong realized he had been unconsciously leaning on him. For that reason, he was actually grateful that he could avoid facing Cheonma while he was unable to control himself.

Becoming someone who clung to Cheonma one-sidedly like a child was absolutely not what he wanted. He was happy to have someone to rely on for the first time in his life, but he didn't want to forget how to stand on his own.

He had no desire to live a life of ease, nestled in Cheonma’s shadow and throwing tantrums. In fact, it was precisely because his heart had begun to lean toward Cheonma that his desire to stand on his own two feet grew stronger.

`Starting tomorrow, I'll begin again with the horse stance. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, right? He didn't say it was completely impossible. First, the transcendent master level. I’ll start from there. I don't have to become his equal, but at the very least, I shouldn't be a burden to him.`

Forced to confront his own inadequacy because of his overly brilliant lover, Munpyeong buried his head in his pillow and muttered his resolve.

Even if a life of peace and quiet had been his lifelong wish, now that he held a man like Cheonma in his heart, he too had to change. He knew better than anyone that if he started to think he was unworthy, he wouldn't be able to endure being by Cheonma's side. If this overwhelming gap didn't shrink, even Cheonma might one day grow tired of him.

Cheonma, despite his age, had a great passion for learning and was always a progressive man. He was not generous enough to tolerate someone who lacked the ambition to improve. Munpyeong did not want to be an inadequate partner for such a man. Now that he had acknowledged his feelings, he was determined to do his best.

"Lord Demon Shadow. It is Ranran. May I enter?"

Since their return to the cult, the one serving Munpyeong was none other than Ranran, a maid of the Thunder Palace. For some reason, she had remained alone in the hall and, having heard something from somewhere, she treated Munpyeong with a gentleness that was incomparable to before.

As soon as she learned of his internal injuries, she not only brewed medicinal teas good for them and brought them at every meal, but also provided him with the finest clothes and tended to his bed with great care.

Munpyeong found Ranran's sudden kindness, so stark it was suspicious, to be a burden. But now as then, he had a weakness for young, beautiful women. He would be flustered with embarrassment, yet when Ranran subtly pressed her intentions, he couldn't refuse and would end up accepting her service.

"Please, come in."

Unaccustomed to speaking informally, Munpyeong replied to her with polite speech. It wouldn't be right to greet a young lady while still lying down.

He crawled out from under the blanket and sat up on the bed, running his fingers through his messy hair. Ranran, who had entered with a bundle in her arms, saw this and quietly bowed her head.

"You must have been sleeping. I hope I did not disturb you."

"Not at all. I was just lying down. There wasn't much to do... But what is it?"

What disturbance could there be for a man who had been lazing around his room for days? Feeling ashamed, Munpyeong scratched his cheek and asked Ranran. Placing the bundle she was carrying beside his bed, she replied respectfully.

"Cheonma summons you, Lord Demon Shadow. You must go to the Hall of Radiant Power at once."

Officially, Munpyeong's last held title was Demon Shadow No. 43. She had to address him with an honorific, but there wasn't a fitting title. Having apparently struggled with this, Ranran had started calling him "Lord Demon Shadow" a few days ago. It was an awkward and embarrassing title, but it wasn't incorrect, so he couldn't say anything about it.

"The Hall of Radiant Power? He's summoning me there?"

The Hall of Radiant Power was the most important assembly hall in the Demonic Cult, a place where the cult's elders and the leader gathered to discuss critical matters. To use the Forbidden City as an analogy, it was akin to the Hall of Supreme Harmony. For him to be summoned to such a place, Munpyeong couldn't readily understand Cheonma's intentions.

"You don't happen to know why he's calling for me, do you?"

"No, my lord. I do not."

Of course. Both Ranran and he were just low-ranking members; there was no way she would know Cheonma's inner thoughts.

Getting up from the bed, Munpyeong once again combed his hair with his fingers and glanced in the bronze mirror. Seeing this, Ranran let out a soft sigh, then unwrapped the bundle she had brought and murmured.

"You cannot go to the Hall of Radiant Power looking like that. I have prepared clothes for you, so please change before you go. I will also comb your hair for you."

"Oh, you don't have to go that far. I can do it myself."

From Ranran's attitude, Munpyeong realized that this was a more formal occasion than he had thought, and he grew slightly tense.

Huh? Is it that serious a meeting? It seems he won't be waiting alone in the Hall of Radiant Power.

Come to think of it, though he had lived in the Demonic Cult for nearly ten years, this was the first time he had ever been summoned to the Hall of Radiant Power. For the lower-ranking warriors of the outer halls, one would almost never have reason to go there unless they had received a tremendous promotion or committed a terrible crime.

Munpyeong changed into the clean clothes Ranran had given him and tidied his hair and appearance with his own hands. Then, under her guidance, he headed for the Hall of Radiant Power.

At that moment, he had no idea what fate awaited him.

***

"Demon Shadow Corps, No. 43, Seok Munpyeong, greets the Grand Supreme Lord and the esteemed elders."

The Hall of Radiant Power, which he had only ever heard of, was truly magnificent. On either side, ten enormous pillars, so thick a grown man couldn't wrap his arms around them, stood in a row. Their height seemed to be at least four or five jang (about 3 meters), and the space between them was a full two jang, giving a rough idea of the hall's immense scale. The ceiling was adorned with intricate paintings that emphasized intimidation over opulence. At first glance, they looked like Buddhist altar paintings, but a closer look revealed they depicted the battle between a blue-lightning-wielding Indra and the Asuras.

Elegant silk banners hung against the black-plastered walls. The gray floor, paved with polished bluestone, shone so brightly it reflected his face. Cheonma sat alone on the highest throne, directly in front of where Munpyeong knelt.

Much like an emperor's grand hall, the platform was composed of several tiers descending from the peak where Cheonma sat. The Four Demonic Kings and the cult's elders were arranged in an orderly fashion on the steps corresponding to their rank.

The solemn dignity emanating from this strict hierarchy was enough to crush the spirit of the man kneeling on the floor. Their gazes, looking down from above, were like those of King Yama and his judges of life and death, passing sentence on the dead.

Kneeling at the lowest level of the platform with his head bowed, Munpyeong felt his spirit falter as he took in their faces.

This wasn't just a difficult meeting; it was a completely official assembly. Not only Cheonma and the Four Demonic Kings, but even the elders, who rarely showed their faces to the outside world, were all present.

Lining both ends of the hall were the masters who commanded the cult's martial forces, all of them staring only at him with an atmosphere so tense it felt as if not even a needle could fall.

Munpyeong couldn't understand why they were all focused on him. He didn't even know why he had been summoned here in the first place. It was like sitting on a bed of thorns. The piercing stares felt like they were peeling the skin from his face.

Unable to bear the curiosity, Munpyeong furtively raised his eyes to steal a glance at Cheonma's expression. But merely lifting his eyelids was not enough to see even the chin of Cheonma, who sat so far above him. All Munpyeong could see were his familiar leather boots, set higher than his own line of sight, and the hem of Cheonma's ever-luxurious silk robes.

"Demon Shadow No. 43, listen well. We have summoned you to this place because there is a matter to which you must officially answer. No trickery will be tolerated, so you must answer without a single shred of falsehood. Do you understand?"

He had been told it was Cheonma who had summoned him, yet Cheonma had not said a word since he entered the Hall of Radiant Power. Furthermore, the questioning, led by Po Yeong-ui, was not so much a formal inquiry as a stern interrogation of a criminal.

What is all this?

Feeling the atmosphere in the hall, which had gone from cold to deadly, Munpyeong couldn't hide his bewilderment. By now, even the most clueless person would have realized that the situation was far from ordinary.

"Yes. Please ask your questions."

Though he had nothing weighing on his conscience, it is human nature to grow anxious the moment one realizes they are being interrogated. Especially when the questioner's demeanor was as ominous as this, the one answering would feel their heart clench, even if they had committed no crime.

"A few months ago, you were swept into the waterways of Mount Bulyun and reached the Heavenly Demon’s Secret Vault, were you not?"

As everyone remained silent, it was Po Yeong-ui who posed the questions. Munpyeong, who had been anxiously wondering what would be asked, quickly bowed his head and affirmed.

"Yes, that is correct."

"I heard that there, you discovered the body of the previous Cheonma, Lord Jeok Baek-mun. Is this true?"

"No, that is not so. The one who discovered the previous Cheonma's body was not I, but the Grand Supreme Lord."

To give credit where it was due, the one who had unlocked the secrets of the vault and found Jeok Baek-mun's body was Cheonma. He had merely tagged along behind him and was in no position to claim any credit.

At his starkly honest answer, Po Yeong-ui's gaze intensified. The others, too, watched him with sharp eyes, as if they meant to dissect him.

"...After discovering the previous Cheonma's body, what did you do?"

"I acted as the Grand Supreme Lord instructed."

"And what did the Grand Supreme Lord instruct you to do?"

"He told me to recover the previous Cheonma's ultimate art, the Divine Thunder Art, and to consume the inner core he had left behind."

"And so. Did you follow his words exactly?"

"...Yes. I did."

A silence fell over the hall after his answer. Since he had only acted on Cheonma's orders and hadn't been greedy for it himself, Munpyeong had answered confidently at first. But as he continued to answer, he got the feeling that something was wrong. With each response, the atmosphere in the hall grew heavier.

With the people holding their breath, the Hall of Radiant Power became as still as the bottom of the sea. Munpyeong was not so foolish as to miss that this was not a good sign. Frustratingly, Cheonma, whom he had trusted, remained silent, merely watching the proceedings unfold.

What is happening? I’m in big trouble, aren't I?

Feeling a cold sweat trickle down his spine, Munpyeong looked up at Cheonma. But Cheonma, with one hand propping up his chin, simply watched Po Yeong-ui's interrogation with an indifferent expression. His attitude was one of complete detachment, as if what Munpyeong was going through had nothing to do with him.

"So. You are saying that you are now cultivating the Divine Thunder Art, the ancestral art of the Demonic Cult?"

"That is correct."

"...Did you perform the nine bows of respect to our ancestor?"

"Yes. I completed the nine bows."

"Can you prove what you have said here and now? If you have learned the Divine Thunder Art, you must know how to draw out its lightning qi. Display your inner energy by channeling the Divine Thunder Art. This is a very important matter for us."

At some point, Po Yeong-ui's informal speech had shifted to a semi-formal tone. But Munpyeong, not sensitive enough to notice, bit his lip and rose to his feet.

I knew this would cause trouble. The weak can become criminals just by possessing a treasure. Why did I forget such an obvious fact? Did I trust him too much?

To be precise, he hadn't completely forgotten, but with Cheonma by his side, he had let his guard down on that front. It had been such an immense fortune, far beyond what he could handle, that he had asked several times if it was really alright for him to take it. From his perspective, he had been cautious.

But what good was that now? If Cheonma who had vouched for him turned his back, it was all over. While he didn't think Cheonma would truly abandon him, the fact that he hadn't taken his side thus far was enough for Munpyeong to feel a deep sense of resentment.

But the sorrow of a subordinate is that when told to do something, one must do it. He couldn't refuse a direct order from Po Yeong-ui, so Munpyeong suppressed his unease and channeled the Divine Thunder Art.

He had not been allowed to bring a sword into the Hall of Radiant Power, so he was bare-handed. He had no choice but to gather the blue lightning onto his fist. The energy was still weak, barely more than static electricity, but it was unmistakably lightning qi that shimmered over his fist.

He gathered the zigzagging lightning energy and shot it forward. A blue bolt struck the smooth bluestone floor. Though weak, lightning qi was still lightning qi, and the spot where it struck was scorched black.

Even after consuming the previous Cheonma's inner core, this is all I can manage. I will work harder from now on.

Munpyeong stealthily lowered his hand as he looked around at the people who were swallowing back gasps.

"...It is certain. According to the records of the Divine Thunder Art, its lightning is blue. This is in contrast to the golden lightning of the Thunder Flame Demonic Art, which the Grand Supreme Lord newly established. That is because the Grand Supreme Lord based his new art on the principles of metal in addition to lightning. There are not many martial arts in the world that use lightning qi, and among them, the only one that produces blue lightning is the Divine Thunder Art."

One of the elders, who had been observing the lightning qi Munpyeong produced, spoke in a grave voice. His words confirmed that Munpyeong was the sole successor of the previous Cheonma, and the people in the hall collectively swallowed a groan.

Cheonma, who had been silently watching the test of Munpyeong, finally spoke slowly, only after seeing the reluctant acknowledgment on their faces.

"Did I not tell you? This child is the successor to the previous Cheonma. Although he did not inherit the title of Leader, if you think about it, he is the one who holds the legitimate lineage. Therefore, from now on, you are to treat this child as my equal. From this moment forth, if anyone dares to disrespect this child—no, if anyone dares to disrespect this man—I, in the name of Cheonma, will not stand idly by."

Cheonma smiled elegantly, instantly elevating Munpyeong's status. The Four Demonic Kings, and even the elders, felt their breath catch in their throats upon hearing his words. It seemed the only one who had anticipated things turning out this way was Gwak Jin-mu, who had once suffered dearly at his hands. The rest of them turned deathly pale, lowered their eyes, and trembled.

Don't you lie to us! Since when have you ever cared about tradition?!

The elders, aghast that the legitimate martial art of the Demonic Cult had been passed on to some nobody they'd never even heard of, felt like clutching the back of their necks and fainting right there as they screamed internally.

If you truly valued tradition, shouldn't you have brought it back to the cult instead of letting a guy like that snatch it up? Is the previous Cheonma's inner core some common trinket? Is the Divine Thunder Art some run-of-the-mill Three Talents Sword Style? It was the Art of the Heavenly Demon, the founder's art! Who gave you the right to give it to your beloved concubine! Do you think the founder's art is some kind of jade hairpin?!

If they could have, they might have argued just that.

But while the desire was great, not a single person actually voiced their objections. As if by an unspoken agreement, they all fell into a deep silence. None of them had the nerve to argue with Cheonma to his face.

If Cheonma said it was so, then it was so. If not, then not. Besides, none of them had the means to stop a man who, in his later years, was so utterly besotted with his young lover that he would give him the very clothes off his back.

The scariest thing in the world is a man blinded by love. How dearly must he cherish that man to not only give him the previous Cheonma's inner core and ultimate art but to also raise him to his own level and glare at them, warning them not to mistreat him?

The elders quickly realized that if they dared to protest, they might face death by a thousand cuts. Getting on the bad side of that grudge-holding man was tantamount to declaring they didn't want to die a peaceful death.

Even if they were old and facing death, their own lives were precious. None of them wanted to shorten their remaining time on earth by foolishly earning Cheonma's resentment.

And so, that insignificant male concubine—no, His Lordship, the male concubine—had suddenly ascended to a status below one man and above all others. He was not merely a lover but the heir to the Demonic Cult's legitimate lineage, a precious being whom even the current Cult Leader, Ho Wan-pyeong, could not treat lightly.

Most of them had realized that Cheonma had given Munpyeong the inner core with this very outcome in mind. Would the meticulous Cheonma have done something so significant without a plan? The world would split in two before that would ever happen.

Huh? Huh? What's going on? The atmosphere is strange.

The slowest person in the hall to grasp the situation was the very man whose status had just skyrocketed. Contrary to his own grim expectations, the moment it was revealed he had learned the Divine Thunder Art, the atmosphere had shifted dramatically. Everyone else's shoulders slumped in defeat, while Cheonma alone seemed delighted.

Tap, tap. Cheonma lowered the hand that had been propping his chin and beckoned Munpyeong forward with a smile. Still unable to process the situation, Munpyeong looked around in a daze, then tilted his head and looked up at Cheonma. Cheonma gestured with his hand again.

Come up.

With his eyes, Cheonma urged him on.

Stop kneeling on the floor and come up here.

Hesitantly, Munpyeong ascended the platform at his beckoning. With every step he took, the people bowed deeply. Their demeanor was so respectful it was as if they truly regarded him as Cheonma's equal.

The feeling of walking up the platform while receiving one bow after another was truly surreal. The terribly polite greetings continued, even from Gwak Jin-mu and Po Yeong-ui. Only the Cult Leader, Ho Wan-pyeong, offered a nod instead of a bow, but even that gesture was executed with such deep respect that Munpyeong felt incredibly awkward. Awkwardly returning the nod, he finally reached Cheonma's feet.

If Cheonma had his way, he would have pulled Munpyeong onto his lap. But he knew the man would surely burst into tears and cause a scene, so he suppressed the tickling desire.

Since I'm building up his reputation, I might as well do it properly.

Feeling uncharacteristically generous, Cheonma snapped his fingers. A Demon Shadow swiftly emerged from the shadows at his call. Looking down at Munpyeong with a pleased gaze, Cheonma said to the Demon Shadow,

"Bring a chair so this person may sit. It must be the finest one you can find."

"As you command!"

To serve a supreme being, one had to be quick-witted. The Demon Shadow, well aware of what Munpyeong meant to Cheonma, rushed off and returned with the best chair he could find.

Cheonma had the chair placed beside his own throne and forced Munpyeong to sit. Having been vertically promoted from kneeling on the floor to a seat next to Cheonma, Munpyeong couldn't control the blush rising to his face and lowered his head.

Does this man really have to make it so obvious? Who asked for any of this?!

Though it was framed as him being the "legitimate successor of the Demonic Cult," this was no different from a wedding ceremony. What was all this, being summoned without a single thought in his head?

Munpyeong's mind was in turmoil, as he'd had no time to prepare. His vision swam and his hands and feet trembled; he felt he might have a stroke. If he died of a heart attack at his young age, it would be all Cheonma's fault. That man enjoyed startling people far too much.

"And now, though it is unrelated to the previous matter, there is one more thing that has been on my mind during these proceedings that I wish to bring to this council. As this will be the last time I attend a meeting of the Radiant Council, I feel I must address it. What are your thoughts, Cult Leader?"

Even with the existence of a Grand Supreme Lord, the foremost authority in the Demonic Cult was, and should be, the Cult Leader. Well aware of this fact, Cheonma never forgot to use respectful language toward his disciple in official settings.

Hearing his question, Ho Wan-pyeong bowed his head. As an ardent admirer of his master, there was no way he would go against Cheonma's wishes. The answer was a foregone conclusion.

"Yes, please do as you wish, Grand Supreme Lord. I will follow your will."

Sitting one step below Cheonma, Ho Wan-pyeong bowed respectfully, expressing his intent to fully comply. With a slow nod, Cheonma turned his gaze to Po Yeong-ui, who stood on the step just below Ho Wan-pyeong.

Suddenly finding himself the subject of Cheonma's attention, Po Yeong-ui looked up at him.

"Po Yeong-ui, Head of the Privy Council and Strategist, step forward. I have a matter to question you about personally."

Po Yeong-ui seemed somewhat surprised by this unexpected turn but stepped forward without a word. His situation was different from that of Munpyeong, who had been forced to kneel on the bare floor. He descended one step from his original position and stood facing Cheonma, bowing deeply.

"Please ask your questions, Grand Supreme Lord. I will gladly comply."

As he bowed his head deeply, the fair, neat nape of his neck was exposed. Cheonma looked down at Po Yeong-ui with an indifferent expression and posed his question.

"A few months ago, when you dispatched that Demon Shadow into the Jianghu, you made use of a Gu, did you not?"

Hearing Cheonma's question, Po Yeong-ui paused for a moment before bowing his head deeply. Ho Wan-pyeong, hearing this, turned to look at Po Yeong-ui with a shocked expression.

"That is correct."

"Why did you use a Gu on a subordinate without due cause?"

"...He was a subordinate who had expressed his desire to leave the cult after completing this mission. I could not entrust such an important task to such a person without a contingency plan."

Officially, there was no mention of who that "subordinate" was. But anyone could deduce the person's identity from the words "a Demon Shadow who went into the Jianghu a few months ago." Munpyeong's already flushed face turned an even deeper shade of red. But Cheonma, shameless as ever, looked down at Po Yeong-ui without a change in his expression.

"So you used a Gu? To bind your subordinate's will and life to your own hands?"

"That is correct."

"You used the worst of all strategies. I have known this for some time, but while you are intelligent, you do not know how to deal with people. Is using fear the only way you know how to handle a disobedient subordinate? If you rely on such methods, you will eventually find yourself unable to control your subordinates without fear. Furthermore, it has the disadvantage of rendering your control useless against an opponent who can inspire even greater fear. That is why such methods are rarely used in this world. At best, only Gwak Hyo and I would dare.

"Gwak Hyo at least reached the Transcendent realm, but on what grounds did you, a mere transcendent master, commit such a daring act? Did you truly not know that if a resentful subordinate were to betray you, you yourself would be the first one in danger?"

"My Lord..."

"I am no Confucian scholar, so I am not about to spout nonsense about ruling with virtue. In truth, I am the kind of person who believes that as long as you can handle the consequences, I have no need to interfere with how you manage your subordinates. But you are not like that. You are playing with fire. You rely on cunning schemes because all you trust is your mind, and you use trickery because you don't know how to trust people. If your reckless actions, born of ignorance of your own capabilities, were to endanger not only the Cult Leader but the entire cult, what would you do then?"

Cheonma rebuked Po Yeong-ui in a strong tone. Po Yeong-ui could say nothing and only kept his head bowed. His expression did not change, but his complexion did. His face grew pale, then ashen.

He knew that Cheonma was not delivering this reprimand merely for Munpyeong's revenge. He was genuinely angry at him for using a Gu, not on 'Munpyeong,' but on 'a subordinate.'

Cheonma's demeanor was unusually serious and solemn. For once, he was displaying the dignity befitting the head of an organization.

"I hereby issue a command to Po Yeong-ui, who nearly brought disaster upon us by committing an act beyond his means. From this moment, Po Yeong-ui's Dantian will be temporarily sealed, and he will undergo six months of closed-door cultivation. During this time, he will be stripped of all his positions within the cult, and all contact with the outside world will be forbidden."

"Grand Supreme Lord, is that not too harsh a judgment? The strategist has his reputation to consider; how can you impose such a severe punishment?"

Ho Wan-pyeong, who usually agreed with Cheonma's every word, couldn't let this one pass. Though it was difficult, he stood before Cheonma and defended Po Yeong-ui.

It was true that Po Yeong-ui had done wrong, but sealing his Dantian and confining him for six months was an excessively harsh punishment. It was called closed-door cultivation, but what martial arts could a person with a sealed Dantian possibly practice? It was no different from a sentence of confinement, just prettily wrapped.

"Cult Leader, there is a saying: punish one to warn a hundred. This punishment will not harm Po Yeong-ui; rather, it will help him."

But Cheonma ignored Ho Wan-pyeong's plea and pushed forward with his decision. Ho Wan-pyeong, who had been subtly showing a resentful expression, suspecting this was retaliation for Munpyeong, asked urgently.

"Grand Supreme Lord, why is that so?"

"The strategist used a Gu on a subordinate. Do you believe rumors of such an act will not spread outside, Cult Leader? There are no secrets in this world. Among his subordinates, the strategist has already been branded as a superior who will stop at nothing to achieve his ends. What subordinate could genuinely trust and follow such a superior? Reward and punishment must be clear. If he does not receive proper punishment for his actions, talk of this incident will follow him forever. In that case, it is better to be punished decisively and have his slate wiped clean. For the future of the cult, and for the strategist himself, this is the best way."

Ho Wanpye-ui wanted to defend Po Yeong-ui further but could find no words. Po Yeong-ui, lightly biting his lip, stepped before Cheonma and bowed his head.

Though it was humiliating, Cheonma's judgment was not wrong. He had too easily resorted to a cunning scheme and, as a result, had lost the trust of his subordinates. If it had been simple revenge, he would not have submitted, but that was not Cheonma's intent. Po Yeong-ui calmly accepted his fate.

"I acknowledge my crime, Grand Supreme Lord. I will accept the punishment you have given."

"Strategist..."

"Cult Leader, please do not worry too much. It is only for half a year, is it not?"

While Ho Wan-pyeong's face was creased with worry, Po Yeong-ui smiled as brightly as a painting. Who wouldn't know that though he pretended to be composed, his heart was not at ease?

Watching this scene, Munpyeong's own heart was not entirely comfortable. Whatever the lengthy story behind it, Po Yeong-ui was receiving such a punishment because he had used a Gu on him.

At Cheonma's command, the cult's law enforcement unit came forward to escort Po Yeong-ui to the closed-door cultivation chamber. After a long bow to the Grand Supreme Lord, the Cult Leader, and the elders, Po Yeong-ui followed the enforcers with a dignified posture.

Watching his retreating back, Ho Wan-pyeong let out a long sigh. Perhaps because they were the closest among the disciples, he couldn't take his eyes off Po Yeong-ui's disappearing figure.

Cheonma watched Ho Wan-pyeong unconsciously chewing on his lip and smiled secretly to himself. Of course. He must be anxious. How strange must it feel to have the man who was always by his side taken away for half a year?

For that one, who was too close to see his own true feelings for the other, that much distance was just right. It wasn't good for their relationship if only one of them was pining away. If there was to be a slow burn, it was much better for both of them to burn together.

Pretending not to watch, Cheonma, who had pierced through both Po Yeong-ui's inner thoughts and Ho Wan-pyeong's true feelings, believed that this incident would be a decent catalyst to advance their stagnant relationship.

Separating Po Yeong-ui for six months would make the foolish Wan-pyeong realize what loneliness felt like, and it would allow him to settle his long-standing grudge by repaying Yeong-ui for what he did to Munpyeong. It was a plan that killed two birds with one stone.

"This is all I had planned to address. What about you, Cult Leader? Is there anything else to discuss?"

"No, Grand Supreme Lord. Thanks to your material and spiritual support, we have been able to resolve all pending issues. I apologize for troubling you until the very end, even after you have officially stepped down from your position."

"No, don't mention it. It is what they call finishing with grace. I will no longer interfere in the affairs of the cult, so everything is up to you, Cult Leader."

Cheonma made his intention very clear: 'I'm done here. Don't hold me back any longer.' But Ho Wan-pyeong, his mind half elsewhere, paid little attention to his words and nodded absently.

Well, look at this one. Acting like this already?

Cheonma looked at his disciple with a sense of pity, then glanced around at the other elders.

Freedom at last. Cheonma's reign of terror was over!

Though they couldn't show even a hint of joy on their faces, their eyes sparkled excessively, which amused Cheonma greatly. He was just as happy to be free of them. They were slow-witted, lacked drive, and were so single-mindedly focused on their tasks that they had not an ounce of flexibility.

Ignorant and stubborn blockheads. Cheonma's back had bent under the strain of leading the Demonic Cult this far with them. If they had been his own children, opening their mouths wide to be fed, they might at least have been cute. But he had spent his life cleaning up after these old men, making his past life feel empty and wasted.

"Then let's conclude this meeting. You have all worked hard for a long time. Continue to assist the new Cult Leader and lead the Demonic Cult well."

"Yes, Grand Supreme Lord. We will bear your will in mind and carry it out."

The old men's shouts were thunderous. Cheonma smirked to himself and led Munpyeong down from the platform. With every step he took, the elders kowtowed, offering their final farewells. The faces they had pressed to the floor were surely all wearing broad grins.

With both the one leaving and the ones sending him off feeling joyful, Cheonma's heartwarming—if you could call it that—retirement ceremony came to an end.

Munpyeong, who had been dragged along knowing nothing, had entered as Demon Shadow No. 43 and emerged as Cheonma-hu—Cheonma's consort. But Munpyeong himself, despite having lived through it, remained completely oblivious to this fact.

It was inevitable. For one, Cheonma had never once said with his own mouth that Munpyeong was his partner. But he had commanded that Munpyeong be 'treated as his equal' and had even placed a chair for him right beside his own. By convention, such an honor had only ever been granted to the wife of the Cult Leader. So, while Munpyeong was officially treated as the legitimate heir of the Demonic Cult, he was unofficially being treated as Cheonma's wife.

Everything had happened implicitly, in a way that someone unfamiliar with the conventions would not notice. But having once received such treatment, Munpyeong was now Cheonma-hu. Munpyeong himself might have thought of it only as a metaphor, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

As has been said time and again, Cheonma was not a man to be underestimated.

***

Cheonma and Munpyeong were walking back to the Thunder Palace, one following the other. Bright sunlight shone down on their heads. In a daze, Munpyeong carefully mulled over what had just happened.

It felt like a lot had happened, but he couldn't quite sort it out. He had been sitting on the floor, then ended up next to Cheonma, and then he'd watched Po Yeong-ui be punished. Cheonma had then cheerfully shed his position as Cult Leader and left the Hall of Radiant Power. That was the summary of the major events, but interpreting the repercussions of each one would fill a book.

To have handled all these momentous issues in one swift stroke—it was no wonder Munpyeong's slow mind was spinning. Cheonma's quick and precise way of handling things was always too fast. It was a struggle for Munpyeong to keep up.

"What exactly did you just do to me?"

He didn't know the specifics, but even Munpyeong could sense that something significant had occurred. He wasn't usually a quick-witted person, but having been put through so much by Cheonma, his instincts in this area had sharpened immensely.

Cheonma, who had been walking with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face, turned to look at Munpyeong. For some reason, he seemed to be in a very good mood.

"What do you think I did? Take a guess."

"It feels like my status has suddenly risen. Am I right?"

Munpyeong started with the part he could understand. Cheonma playfully agreed.

"You went from Demon Shadow No. 43 to the equal of the Grand Supreme Lord, so you're not wrong."

"So, what have I officially become?"

Cheonma-hu, Cheonma thought to himself, but he said something else aloud.

"The Legitimate Successor of the Demonic Cult."

"...Is that a good thing?"

"Well. I suppose it depends on how you look at it. You cannot raise a successor, nor can you leave behind the insights you have gained. If your line were to continue after you, a new faction would eventually form within the cult, so the martial arts you have learned must end with you. Other than that, it's not so bad. As I said, you will receive the same treatment as I do, so you won't have to worry about your livelihood for the rest of your life."

Munpyeong had no interest in raising a successor, so what Cheonma called a downside didn't really resonate with him. But something still felt off. An undeniable premonition told him there was more to it. It was less a thought and more an instinct—the survival instinct that had kept him alive until now. Munpyeong watched Cheonma with a suspicious gaze.

"There was something else, wasn't there? The atmosphere in the hall was incredibly strange."

Of course it was strange. Munpyeong was the first man in the thousand-year history of the Demonic Cult to become the consort of a leader. It would have been shocking even for a normal leader's partner, let alone Cheonma's. If the one who had done it hadn't been Cheonma, it was a momentous event that could have incited a rebellion.

But Cheonma slyly glossed over that point. He had handled things that way to firmly imprint Munpyeong's position on everyone else, not on the man himself. So, Munpyeong could remain ignorant. The people who needed to know now knew.

"It would have been strange. They suddenly have one more master to serve. The higher up one is, the greater their pride. Why would they be happy about having one more person to attend to?"

"..."

"Why the sudden silence? Is this sudden promotion weighing on your mind?"

Munpyeong lifted his head to look at Cheonma. Cheonma met his gaze with a gentle smile.

"Why are you so good to me?"

The words, once heard before, perhaps several times, came from Munpyeong's lips again.

What is he so suspicious about? Does he think I can't be good to him without a reason?

He didn't think he'd ever asked Yun Seung-hyo such a question, but he had repeated the same one to Cheonma several times. The thought that his affection was still being doubted left a bitter residue in Cheonma's heart.

"You think I am being good to you? Why?"

"You saved my life and gave me the martial arts to protect myself. You've given me wealth and honor I could never have handled, and you've even given me your heart. If this isn't being good to me, then what is?"

"The words 'being good to someone' are usually used when one bestows favor unilaterally, with nothing in return. But I have no intention of making such a losing deal. When I give you something, it is naturally because I expect something in return. Did you still not know that?"

"What could I possibly give back to you, my Lord? I have nothing worthy of giving you."

"What do you mean you have nothing? You do. You have a great deal."

"My Lord?"

"You must give me your heart. You must give me your life, and every smile you make. I will give you everything I have, so you must give me everything you have. Then it will be fair, won't it? Since we will have each traded our all for the other's all."

The unexpectedly sweet words made his chest ache without him realizing it. Munpyeong was not so foolish as to miss the meaning behind Cheonma's insistence on fairness while proposing such a wildly unbalanced deal.

He felt his cheeks flush as he looked at Cheonma. Cheonma kept making him feel like a young girl. Even though he was a grown man who had experienced his share of life, in front of him, he became young and shy.

"...My Lord."

"It is a difficult trade, so think it over slowly. I will give you plenty of time. After all, what do I have left now but time? Even if you told me to wait a lifetime, I would do so gladly."

Perhaps he felt awkward for saying something so uncharacteristic of him. Cheonma quickly concluded his words when Munpyeong couldn't answer right away.

He didn't expect Munpyeong to give an answer immediately just because he'd said this. After all they had been through, how could he not know Munpyeong's personality?

Munpyeong was unable to be honest, constrained by the fact that their relationship was between two men, and he was afraid to express himself, conscious of others' eyes. Still, Cheonma found that Munpyeong endearing. The rose-tinted glasses he wore were so thick that Munpyeong, who had initially been a weed in his eyes, now looked like a rare orchid.

As he had said, he had decades of time left. Perhaps even more time than Munpyeong's entire life. Cheonma thought it wouldn't matter if he invested all that time in him. Compared to the decades he had lived solely out of duty, the time he would use to obtain what he truly wanted was not a waste at all.

"It has been a while since we took a walk together in the late afternoon. Let's just walk again."

Seeing Munpyeong's hesitation, Cheonma decided to give him time and turned to continue their walk. But Munpyeong's voice, hesitant yet determined, stopped him in his tracks.

"...The one who loses out will surely be you, my Lord. Are you alright with that?"

Cheonma, who had been walking ahead, stopped and turned around. Munpyeong was looking at him, flushed red from head to toe.

"What do you mean? Are you saying with your own mouth that you accept this trade?"

"I'm trying to negotiate before we make a deal. I have no intention of swindling you, my Lord. In this trade, it is you who will be at a loss, not me. Are you really, truly okay with that?"

One of Munpyeong's strengths was that when he put his mind to it, he could be quite audacious, even while trembling. Cheonma gave an incredulous smile at the man who was asking him if he could still love him, even though he was certain to be on the losing end.

This foolish man.

Looking at the hopelessly bad calculator that was Munpyeong, Cheonma thought that he should never, ever let this man become a merchant. He had said it clearly. He was the one who didn't make losing deals. The man didn't listen properly, and that's why he asked such questions. He never spoke empty words, but it seemed Munpyeong still didn't know him, even after all they'd been through.

"What loss would I suffer? If anyone is at a loss, it is you."

"I am an insignificant person. Before I met you, my Lord, I was just an ordinary low-ranking warrior. I have no remarkable qualities or special talents. But are you not a man whose name will be left in the annals of history? Do you believe a relationship like this can be equal?"

"Of course, I am not insignificant. But I am also a man with nothing left to gain. I am old, I have no job, and while I have no children, I have disciples and grand-disciples in a long line. Being with me might often put your life in danger, and at times you may get entangled in complicated affairs that have nothing to do with you and suffer headaches. I am saying I am fine with that. Why can't you be as shameless as I am?"

Having said that, Cheonma pulled Munpyeong sharply toward him. Caught off guard, Munpyeong found himself in his arms and could faintly feel Cheonma's presence, smiling above his head.

"You say my name will be remembered for all time? I have never once wished for such a thing. I only need one person to remember my name. Not to be remembered by all, but to be remembered by a single person for a thousand autumns. That was all I ever wanted."

Cheonma looked down at Munpyeong with a gentle gaze. His voice was filled with raw, honest sincerity. Held tightly in his firm arms, Munpyeong looked up at Cheonma with a dazed expression. Cheonma's smile, with no pretense, no mockery, just pure clarity, was incredibly beautiful.

So this man could smile like this.

Having always seen his cynical side, Munpyeong looked at Cheonma's bright smile with a fresh sense of wonder. It was hard to believe, but Cheonma could laugh like this. Not with a biting sarcasm that cut others down, not with a mocking twist, but as clear and transparent as an autumn sky.

"Well? Will you grant my wish? Will you live remembering my name for a thousand autumns?"

Cheonma asked Munpyeong, his gaze like one looking upon something dazzlingly beautiful. And indeed, because he was looking at something dazzlingly beautiful, Munpyeong, with the very same expression as Cheonma, answered his question as if enchanted.

"If that is all it takes... then yes. I will."

"If you will do so, then I will do the same. I will remember you. I will engrave only your name upon my heart."

A golden kiss descended upon his forehead. A kiss of pure joy, unmixed with any other emotion. Munpyeong realized that with that one kiss, he had traded his entire life, but he felt not a sliver of regret.

A long mountain breeze blew through the garden where they stood. The gentle wind, carrying the warmth of the afternoon sun, swirled around the two of them before passing by.

For humans, eternity is a lingering regret that cannot be reached in life. A thousand autumns. A thousand dreams. How different was that from eternity? But the fact that their hearts were one in this moment was an unchangeable truth. They made a sincere vow in that moment, and they faithfully kept it. It may not have been for a thousand autumns as promised, but for as long as they lived, they looked only at each other.

For them, that was enough.

No, it was more than enough.

⟨ The End ⟩