RDK 13

Chapter 13

> “How was Yu Jo-won?”

> “Not bad.”

The next day, Cheon Mujin found himself involved in handing over Woo Chung.

Ordinarily, it would’ve been unthinkable for someone practically a patient to be attending such a transfer.

But nobility exists precisely for moments like this—to bend the rules.

> “I gave him a few pointers. If he polishes them well, he’ll be able to pull his own weight.”

> “That’s good. For you to say he can pull his weight—must mean something.”

Coming from Changma, that meant Yu Jo-won had reached the level of a seasoned master.

> “Did you really come all the way here just to ask that?”

> “He was so thoroughly worked he passed out cold. Didn’t even try to get up. I filed for his medical leave on his behalf.”

> “Tsk, still not grown enough, I see.”

At the mention of his collapse, Changma clicked his tongue.

Still, a faint smile hovered on his lips.

That collapse meant Yu Jo-won had squeezed out every last drop during training the day before.

Even mentally, he had passed the test.

After a short pause, Changma pulled out a small token from his sleeve and tossed it to Cheon Mujin.

> “What’s this?”

> “If that kid ever retires from the frontlines and wants to learn the spear properly, tell him to come find me.”

> “This is… more than I expected.”

> “Hmph. These days, kids only lack resolve.”

Changma had no disciples.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t because he disliked teaching.

Had it been any other Ma-seong (Demonic Star), they would’ve rejected the idea outright.

Changma’s lack of disciples came from his incredibly high standards.

And, ironically for a demon, he cared deeply about character.

Those with the tenacity to endure his grueling training were often twisted in their hearts—not a fit for his ideals.

But for Yu Hyun-hwa, this was a golden opportunity.

Her grit and indomitable spirit would resonate with Changma.

Clearly, even a single night of training had already moved him.

> “I’ll be sure to deliver the message.”

As Cheon Mujin tucked the token into his robes, Woo Chung emerged from the underground holding cell and stood beneath the sunlight.

> “How will you transfer him—?”

> “My way.”

Without warning, Changma stepped up to Woo Chung and swung a massive sack he’d been carrying.

> “Mmmph! Mmmphhh!”

Though Woo Chung’s jaw was shattered and he couldn’t speak, his muffled protests filled the air as Changma’s thick fingers pierced the sack and pressed against his acupuncture points.

Hoisting the limp sack over his shoulder, Changma launched into the air and vanished in an instant.

> “…Now that’s intense.”

Cheon Mujin finally understood why Changma never brought subordinates along.

He moved like that.

To be a Ma-seong at that age and still act so personally—ignoring face and status—was rare.

> ‘No… maybe I’ve had the wrong idea all along.’

The Ma-seong Cheon Mujin had known were seen through the eyes of Cheonma Cheon Mujin.

If the sky itself had twisted, could the stars above remain unchanged?

He realized he needed to revise his perception of Ma-seong.

Turning away, he whispered to himself,

> ‘That’s it for now… All that’s left is to wait for the result. Not that I expect good news.’

—

After Changma took Woo Chung, an odd calm spread across the frontline.

The patrols encountered no more Magaksa serpents, and fewer troops felt the need to wear shin guards.

Encounters with rival factions dwindled too, leading to peaceful routines of cleaning up minor monsters.

But unlike the relaxed regular troops—

> “We need to extend our patrol routes.”

> “Seems so. Best to push into the less observed sectors first.”

> “Mm.”

—the high command of the Mupung Unit was on full alert.

As squad leader, Cheon Mujin attended the meeting and found himself genuinely impressed.

It had been a week since Woo Chung’s departure.

Everyone knew this eerie peace wouldn’t last.

Despite the rare break, the Mupung Unit leaders treated the quiet like a ticking time bomb.

> ‘No wonder they’ve survived this long on the frontlines.’

This cautiousness was likely their greatest asset.

> “Act like we’re redrawing the entire monster territory map. If the chaos-makers disappeared, we could be seeing seismic shifts.”

> “Understood.”

> “Also check for signs of large-scale spawning. No signs of the Purgatory Mirror yet, but a mid-grade rift could’ve opened.”

> “Understood.”

> “Report anything suspicious. Don’t decide in the field—decisions happen here after cross-checking every angle.”

> “Yes, sir!”

> “Dismissed.”

> “Dismissed!”

With the rare sight of their commander dead serious, the Mupung Unit quickly scattered to work.

> “Ah, Squad Leader Cheon, stay behind.”

Just as he was about to leave with the others, Cheon Mujin was called back by the commander.

> “Is something wrong?”

> “You’ll need to make a brief trip to the main sect.”

> “At a time like this?”

> “It may sound complacent, but nothing’s going to blow up immediately. And the Mupung Unit isn’t so weak that your absence will cause problems.”

The commander smiled faintly and shrugged playfully.

> “Not that it matters. Orders from above—you follow them.”

So it came from higher up.

That explained why someone of Cheon Mujin’s caliber was being pulled from the front.

> “Go. The Heavenly Demon has summoned you.”

> “…My father?”

—

Cheonwigon, the Heavenly Demon.

The current generation’s Heavenly Demon, whose power more than justified the title.

And yet—

> ‘I really don’t know much about him, do I?’

Cheon Mujin had little knowledge of his own father.

He had spent his early childhood locked in his room, and when he finally stepped out into the world with the Mupung Unit, mere survival had been hard enough.

As the disgraced heir of the Cheon Clan, even seeing his father once a year had been a luxury.

Then…

> ‘…Tch.’

Recalling that bitter end, Cheon Mujin clicked his tongue and shut off the thought.

That past life didn’t matter anymore.

What mattered was what he did from here on out.

He had plenty of time to learn about his family.

> “We’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice snapped him from his thoughts.

As the carriage door opened, Cheon Mujin stepped outside.

After a long walk past the main gate, he arrived at the Heavenly Demon Hall.

> “Come in.”

Before he could even announce himself, a voice called out from within.

Even the gatekeeper flinched—but the massive doors opened without delay.

As he stepped in, he could feel eyes staring down from above.

Walking atop the crimson carpet, he approached the spot reserved only for Cheon Clan blood and the permitted few.

A fierce aura crashed down on him.

Custom dictated he kneel and bow—but—

> “Father.”

Instead, Cheon Mujin stood tall.

> “I hope you’ve been well.”

His bow wasn’t to the Heavenly Demon, but to his father.

Perhaps it was the breach of decorum, but the Heavenly Demon rose from his seat.

One step.

He descended the stairs.

In that instant, the pressure increased tenfold.

His body twisted, his meridians screamed, and his bones and muscles groaned under the absurd force.

But he did not falter.

Lifting his head, Cheon Mujin smiled directly at the Heavenly Demon.

> “Seeing you again has cured all my fatigue, Father.”

The moment he spoke with a grin—

—the pressure vanished as if it had never existed.

The Heavenly Demon, now standing before him, examined him closely and furrowed his brow.

> “You claimed to do nothing but drink… yet you didn’t waste your time after all.”

> “If even you think so, then my time wasn’t wasted.”

> “Your tongue’s still slurred from drink.”

Without expression, the Heavenly Demon turned.

Then—

> ‘…Huh?’

A light tap—two quick pokes to his side.

There had been no killing intent. He hadn’t dodged.

But Cheon Mujin immediately suppressed his rising aura.

It wasn’t an attack.

> ‘…Hah.’

Soft internal energy flowed through him, soothing the damaged parts strained under pressure.

The wounds he thought would need two days of rest were already beginning to mend.

> “…Hmm.”

The Heavenly Demon glanced back, eyes gleaming.

Realizing he’d noticed, Cheon Mujin quickly bowed.

> “Thank you, Father.”

Perhaps surprised that Cheon Mujin had understood what he’d done, the Heavenly Demon gave no reply and returned to his seat.

> “Cheon Mujin.”

> “Yes, Father.”

> “Capturing a master at peak level is no small feat. If you want, I can assign you to a different unit. There’s much you must accomplish.”

What he must accomplish.

Did that mean gaining favor with the inner circle, increasing his reputation, repairing the family name?

Cheon Mujin looked straight at him.

> “Father.”

Connections? Fame?

Important, sure.

If he wanted to surpass his brother and claim the Heavenly Demon’s seat, those were necessary.

But—

> “I won’t lie down on a place I didn’t climb to myself.”

> “A mere second-rate brat says this?”

> “Yes. If I have to be carried up to a seat I didn’t earn, I’d rather fall off completely.”

This wasn’t just a whim.

Cheon Mujin would become Heavenly Demon.

But even before that—

> “That is my path—the way of the king.”

The Ma-wang (Demon King) who once reigned over all demons.
—

> “The way of the king…”

After Cheon Mujin left, the Heavenly Demon tapped his armrest slowly.

> “What do you think?”

> “A bold answer,” replied Muyoung, his personal guard.
“And a foolish one.”

> “Why?”

> “His ambition outweighs his ability.”

> “So it does.”

Cheon Mujin had captured a top-level master—but he was still second-rate.

Rumors would say it was sheer luck. Many would mock him for flaunting it.

Even Muyoung clearly thought the same.

Considering his younger son’s skills, perhaps it really was foolish.

The Heavenly Demon said nothing, merely staring at his hand.

It gleamed faintly.

> ‘Was I… tense, even for a moment?’

The instant he passed energy into Cheon Mujin, he had felt it—

—the pure, piercing warning radiating from Cheon Mujin’s soul.

It had sent a chill down his spine.

—

Cheon Mujin, now outside the Heavenly Demon Hall, steadied his breath as he walked.

> “Hm?”

He wouldn’t have stopped—had he not sensed a strange presence ahead.

> “You’ve arrived.”

A young boy leaning against the wall uncrossed his arms and turned.

With a stiff, pompous posture, the boy opened his mouth, eyes sharp and voice full of annoyance.

> “If you’re incompetent, you should just keep quiet. You’re the eldest son, so what gives you the right to bother Fa—”

> “Brother!!”

With a loud, cheerful voice completely at odds with the boy’s tone, Cheon Mujin ran forward and hugged him tightly.

> “Wh-What are you doing?!”

The boy tried to slip away.

> “Hah! Shy little rascal!”

Cheon Mujin’s arms deftly wrapped around his brother’s shoulders.

The boy struggled, but it was too late.

Arm draped over his brother’s shoulders, Cheon Mujin reached out and ruffled his hair.

> “Have you been well, little brother?”

Grinning, he thoroughly tousled his brother’s hair in joyous reunion.