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Chapter 15
‘So, all it did was stop them for a moment.’
As he stirred the demonic energy inside him, Cheon Mujin retraced what had just happened.
The Command of Words.
A simple technique—imbuing one’s speech with power to command others.
The only difficult part was fulfilling the condition of “power.”
Though the soul of the Demon King now resided in this body, the vessel was far too small. There was very little he could do in this state.
Being able to even use a technique like this was already a miracle.
It only worked on beings who possessed magical energy.
So it was no surprise the Taoist bastards froze. Simple, really.
‘They must have spent a decent amount of time on the frontlines.’
Living in the Demon Abyss, they had unknowingly accumulated traces of magical energy.
Some regained consciousness sooner than others simply because they hadn’t accumulated as much—unlike those who had deliberately built their inner strength using demonic energy.
Still, they’d need several years outside the frontlines to purge it completely.
That is, if they survive this place at all.
Growl!!
A monster charged toward him, and Cheon Mujin swung his fist.
He couldn’t afford to overdo it.
Though there were no monsters too powerful for him to handle individually, their sheer numbers were troubling.
In a battlefield like this, energy management was key.
> “Huff.”
Drawing a steady breath, he threw up his elbow.
A cracking sound followed as his strike shattered the jawbone of the oncoming beast, sending it tumbling.
More monsters leapt at him in succession.
About half resembled wolves, while others bore grotesque, mutated forms.
One lunged for his legs—Cheon Mujin snatched its head mid-air and crushed an eye with his knee. Twisting his torso, he dropped to the ground.
Another twisted abomination, looking part insect, part beast, came at him from the side.
He smashed its head with his elbow, the force flattening its skull.
Though the impact knocked him down, he used the recoil to spring back to his feet. As he rose, a serpent-shaped creature descended from above.
> “Hup!”
Planting his hand on the ground, Cheon Mujin vaulted into the air, just as his foot hooked around the monster’s neck.
He used it as a springboard, flipping his body midair.
Now stabilized, he looked down at the beasts glaring up at him.
> “Not bad.”
This chaotic melee…
The tension of not knowing where the next attack would come from…
His body, still riddled with flaws, was almost thrumming with excitement.
His lips curled, unable to suppress the exhilaration pounding in his chest.
> “Let’s pick up the pace, shall we?”
If you can’t escape it… might as well enjoy it.
—
* * *
> “…That guy’s a real monster.”
> “When I heard he’d taken down a master, I didn’t believe it. But this…”**
Roughly a shik-gyeong (30 minutes) had passed.
Squads 3 and 7, who had all braced for death, now sat collapsed with relief, their legs giving way beneath them.
Only moments ago, they’d stood at the brink of death. Now, they were alive—and acutely aware of it.
Thanks to one man.
> “Is everyone safe?”
> “……We are. And we owe you our lives. We’ll repay this debt, I swear it.”**
> “Aw, come on. We’re all comrades here. No need for paybacks.”
Cheon Mujin waved it off with a smile and turned to face the others.
> “How about over there?”
> “…We’re unharmed.”
> “Good to hear. I’m Cheon Mujin, by the way.”
He strode toward the Konlun Taoists, who flinched slightly at his approach—then quickly flushed, realizing their mistake.
> “You don’t have to be so tense. With everything going on, what’s the point in fighting among ourselves?”
> “Your consideration is appreciated. I am Hohyeon. …Forgive the delay, but thank you. We’ll remember this kindness.”
> “No need for that, really. But if you’re offering, I won’t say no.”
Cheon Mujin grinned and studied the Taoists for a moment before tilting his head curiously.
> “Are you all first-generation disciples on patrol? That’s… unusual.”
Patrolling was still work. And unless it was an extremely dangerous mission, they usually included second-generation disciples to train.
> “Hm? No, there’s a second-gen among you.”
If this were truly a first-gen-only mission, he would’ve noticed something.
That was the strange part.
When he used the Command of Words, all of them had frozen.
That meant every single Taoist here had enough magical energy in them to be affected.
Even in a place as saturated as the Demon Abyss, accumulating that much energy naturally would take years on the frontlines.
So why was a second-generation disciple mixed in?
His gaze shifted toward someone in the middle of the group.
Mid-twenties at most—clearly the second-gen.
Their eyes met.
> “…Haa?”
Eyes swirling with magical energy.
Cheon Mujin let out a rare, irritated sigh.
Then the man suddenly began to move.
> “What a pain.”
One step, two steps—more than enough momentum.
Hohyeon, caught off guard by Cheon Mujin’s cryptic muttering, hesitated.
A gust of wind blew past him.
The young man was fast—handpicked from the top of the second-generation ranks.
So fast that the battle-weary Taoists couldn’t even react.
He reached Cheon Mujin and thrust his hand forward without hesitation.
It was one of Konlun’s deadly techniques, imbued with vicious intent.
If it landed, it would at least shatter bones—possibly kill.
The moment the strike neared his chest—
> “Tch.”
A soft click of the tongue.
Cheon Mujin gently deflected the arm with a twist of his wrist.
Not blocked—redirected.
> Swoosh!!
The blast of wind from the missed attack swept past his ear.
Through the fluttering strands of hair, his sharp eyes bore into his attacker.
They reflected surprise. Too late.
While the man floundered in shock, Cheon Mujin’s leg shot forward—so precisely, there was no room to read it.
The tip of his foot slammed into the man’s side.
> “GRAAAAAHH!!”
He let out a terrible scream as he rolled across the dirt.
> “What are you doing?!”
> “Jinho!”
The atmosphere turned grim. The other Taoists flared with anger—Jinho was like their younger brother or son.
But that was their concern.
> “So, the righteous hypocrites finally show their true colors.”
> “Tch. This is why I hate dealing with your lot. You stink of rot.”
The Mupung Squad, now encircling Cheon Mujin, radiated a menacing aura.
They’d been forcing their exhausted bodies to stand—but now, they looked ready to fight.
Especially—
> “Ungrateful bastard who bites the hand that saves him.”
The fury in Squad 3 leader Geom Muyeol’s eyes was lethal.
Even the Taoists raised their spiritual energy in defense.
The air tightened.
Just when everyone reached for their weapons—
> “Ah, ah! Let’s stop now. No need to escalate over something this trivial.”
Cheon Mujin’s calm voice shattered the tension.
As if nothing had happened, he walked toward Jinho, crouching in front of the glaring Taoist.
> “Hard to keep up with trends these days… Possessed by demonic energy, are we?”
> “…What are you talking about?”
Only Hohyeon, who hadn’t raised his killing intent, dared to ask.
Cheon Mujin pointed at Jinho, still panting.
> “Do you know what I just did?”
> “No.”
> “Nothing big. Just… agitated the demonic energy inside him.”
> “…Demonic energy?”
> “Yup. I’m sensitive to it. That’s why I asked earlier if you were all first-gens.”
> “I remember.”
> “I could feel it from all of you. That much makes sense for people who’ve been on the frontlines.”
> “So you thought Jinho was a first-gen too?”
> “Exactly. Just a younger one.”
Looking at Jinho, whose gaze still burned with madness, Cheon Mujin dusted his hands off.
> “But it’s too late. He’s already being consumed.”
> “Consumed… by madness?”
> “I don’t know what kind of grudge he has against my sect, but charging at me in this state? That’s not rational behavior.”
Even before he finished, Jinho lunged again.
A sneak attack—timed precisely when Cheon Mujin’s center of gravity shifted backward.
A smart move. But—
> “Keurgh!”
Too bad it only works on the unprepared.
Geom Muyeol, standing nearby, swung his blade.
Jinho’s arm flew off.
> “Jinho!”
The Taoists flinched, ready to retaliate.
> “Stop. Take care of him.”
> “Senior!”
> “I said stand down!!”
Hohyeon’s shout silenced them.
> “Has bathing in demonic blood made you forget what’s right? Who here is truly in the wrong?!”
The Taoists bowed their heads.
They knew.
Everyone knew.
> “Thank you for your mercy. May we take Jinho with us?”
> “Hmm. So you want to take back the guy who tried to kill me twice after I saved him?”
Cheon Mujin let out a dry laugh as he watched Jinho attempt to stem the bleeding himself.
> “Do you really think I’ll say yes?”
> “I’ll repay your kindness. But he must be treated.”
> “Shameless as always.”
> “Couldn’t agree more,” Omiyun, the leader of Squad 7, added coldly.
Their tone said it all: if you push, we will fight.
> ‘…Guess this won’t work.’
If the Demon Sect took Jinho, the outcome was clear.
He’d be tortured to death—or, even if returned, he’d be broken.
They had to take him back, no matter what.
> “Adults take responsibility. I’ll—”
> “Ahem. I’ve decided.”
Cheon Mujin cut him off with a sudden declaration.
> “I’ve always been curious about the Konlun encampment.”
> “…What?”
What kind of nonsense was that?
> “Just show me around your base. Then I’ll hand him over peacefully. I’ll even help with purging the demonic energy.”
> “Young master!!”
> “What are you talking about?!”
Amused by the panic in Geom Muyeol and Omiyun’s voices, Cheon Mujin grinned and gave a thumbs up.
> “Be honest—you’re curious too, right? About the Konlun camp?”
Who could resist?
Especially if some lunatic was infecting Konlun disciples with demonic energy…
And besides—
> ‘I wonder how that old man’s doing.’
There were faces he still needed to see.
