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Chapter 6
“Damn it…”
“Feeling wronged?”
Patrol time.
A few days had passed since Cheon Mujin was partnered with Baekwoo again. He chuckled as he saw Baekwoo gently touching his bruises.
Fortunately, the senior officers on this patrol were the type who wouldn’t interfere as long as the rookies maintained situational awareness.
To be fair, they were chatting a few steps ahead themselves.
“Cut it out. If you keep making that face, you’re going to keep getting beaten for the rest of your life.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“It’s the face of a petty man who only thinks of himself.”
“So what? Humans are all like that.”
“That’s true. Which is exactly why such people never learn. Are you getting beaten up like this because you want to be one of those average humans?”
“Tsk… So what do you want me to do?”
Oh, not shouting? That’s impressive.
Even lenient seniors would’ve turned around if they heard yelling.
Two weeks, huh.
Time to start baiting him.
“How much have you figured out about the techniques I use?”
“…You target the chin to disrupt balance, then follow up with a hit.”
“Any specifics?”
“I still don’t know how you break the balance exactly. But I did figure out that you strike right before I move, effectively stopping me from doing anything.”
“You’ve figured out most of it.”
It was fine that he hadn’t caught on to the faint head fake toward the chin—it’s not something easily noticed. He’d picked up all that could be expected for now.
“Damn, is it because I’m just dumb?”
“Hm? What was that?”
“You’re smart, aren’t you? Not physically gifted, but mentally sharp?”
“Hmm?”
Now where did that come from?
Never heard that in my life.
‘My Lord, perhaps you should give up on magic…’
‘No! I’ll master it! Please, my Lord!’
…Some painful memories resurfacing.
Sealing away the image of Gilowyn’s desperate cry in his mind, Cheon Mujin looked at Baekwoo.
Eyes filled with resentment and envy.
Clearly frustrated that he couldn’t learn due to lack of talent.
“Ha… how amusing.”
“What is?”
“My technique was made for someone who isn’t smart.”
“What?”
He meant it.
The technique Cheon Mujin used to beat Baekwoo was something he had designed for his own use—someone who lacked natural talent.
It was a technique he had only managed to complete much later in life, after years of struggle, trying to overcome his limitations.
He didn’t call it a martial art because there were no formal stances or routines—just core principles.
“I’m giving you a gift for showing grit these past two weeks. The name of my technique is Gak-Yeong (各映).”
“…Gak-Yeong?”
“Yeah. Names reflect their essence. Think it over carefully.”
Seemed like Baekwoo now had something to ponder. He fell silent.
No need to keep talking, then.
As Cheon Mujin focused on the perimeter while walking, he suddenly stopped.
“Please halt for a moment.”
“What is it?”
The seniors up ahead, reacting to his words, placed hands on their swords and turned around.
“I sense something unusual over there.”
“Unusual?”
Cheon Mujin sensed something the others couldn’t?
It made no sense, considering their respective levels, but the fact that Mujin was from the Heavenly Demon’s bloodline swept away any doubts.
There must be something. And even if there wasn’t, suspicion during patrols always warranted investigation.
The seniors moved closer without protest.
“We’re not sensing anything unusual.”
“That makes me all the more eager to check with my own eyes.”
“Fine. Form up.”
The patrol unit formed a basic wedge formation—seniors in front and back, juniors guarding left and right. They advanced slowly toward the indicated direction.
After walking a good while at a steady pace—
“Where is it? I don’t see—”
As soon as senior martial artist Gu Jung-Ryeom turned back—
“Beneath your feet!”
At Cheon Mujin’s shout, Gu instinctively reacted.
He lifted his foot and looked down.
But a human has only two feet—and unless airborne, one is always touching the ground.
Shhhk!
“Urgh!”
A viper’s fangs shot up from below, sinking into Gu’s calf.
“Cut it down!”
At Sochun’s order from the rear, Baekwoo swung his sword.
The snake with black scales—
He aimed to slice its head off.
But—
Clang!
“What the f—?!”
As the blade bounced off, Baekwoo barely held in his curse.
Cheon Mujin moved in.
Instead of dodging, he reached for the snake.
Was he grabbing it?
Nope.
“Hup!”
With a shout, he chopped off the snake’s head with a hand strike.
Baekwoo’s eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn’t even cut it with a sword—and Mujin did it barehanded?
But Mujin had no time to worry about reactions.
He immediately grabbed the severed head and clamped its jaw shut.
Hissss…
A faint hissing cry.
The snake was trying desperately to open its mouth.
“What’s the situation?”
“It’s still alive. Magaksas sometimes travel in packs. Please check the surroundings.”
“Magaksa?”
“That’s a Magaksa?”
Baekwoo tilted his head at the unfamiliar word, while Sochun frowned at the creature’s strange appearance.
“A Magaksa’s horn should be at least the size of a finger joint. The head you’re holding has no horn.”
“There are two types of Magaksa. The first is a snake mutated by demonic energy. That’s what most people know.”
“And the second?”
“A hybrid born of interbreeding among magical beasts. They don’t have horns during growth, so it’s hard to identify them.”
“…I’ve heard of that.”
“But this one—this is the most dangerous kind.”
“Dangerous?”
“Yes. It’s not just a Magaksa. It’s a Cheonyang Magaksa.”
Both listeners were baffled.
Mujin gave up explaining.
There was no time.
Why was such a thing here? He didn’t know. But it didn’t matter now.
“Senior Gu, show me your leg.”
“Will you have to cut it off?”
“It’s still a juvenile with undeveloped horns. We may not need to.”
How the hell do you know that?
Also—a baby? That thing’s a baby?
Gu Jung-Ryeom put aside those questions quickly.
He’s from the Heavenly Demon’s bloodline.
Must be something to it.
“This is too convenient.”
People accepting whatever you say—it was more useful than he’d thought.
Seeing Gu’s skepticism vanish, Mujin gave a bitter smile.
There’s nothing inherently special about being from that bloodline.
But thanks to spending months in reclusion after being assigned here, the mystique still lingered.
It revealed how others viewed his lineage.
After inspecting the wound, Mujin frowned.
It’s Takk—murky energy. A hybrid, just as I thought.
He hadn’t explained it to others, but the reason he led the patrol this way was because he sensed a force beyond just demonic energy.
He called it Takk, but the beings who used it called it Honwon-gi (混元氣)—a destructive force formed by the mixing of unknown energies with demonic ki.
He didn’t know much about it either—only that it was terrifyingly powerful.
He’d died just when he started investigating it seriously.
Still…
Should I be happy we found it this early… or scared?
Either way, this confirmed the existence of those things.
They existed—and they were active.
What had to be done was simple.
Find them. Kill them.
With practiced hands, Mujin removed the infected flesh, washed the wound, and assessed the venom’s spread.
“Fortunately, the fangs didn’t go too deep. I removed most of the venom. With an antidote and rest, he’ll recover.”
“…Thank you.”
“Alright. Let’s head back. We’ll ask another team to finish the patrol.”
“Yes.”
With Sochun’s decision made, the team began to move.
Baekwoo supported Gu, while Mujin and Sochun kept watch.
Just then—
“That’s strange.”
A foreign voice echoed from somewhere.
Mujin turned.
Then—
“How did you kill a Cheonyang Magaksa?”
A voice whispered in his ear.
Mujin’s fist reacted instantly.
He swung in the direction of the sound—toward where a mouth should be.
CLANG!
A blast rang out as ki clashed, the shock wave making Mujin stagger.
“What the—?!”
Sochun was startled.
But Mujin was already in motion.
He lunged forward, using the rebound from his blocked attack to swing his left arm.
His fingers, shaped like venomous fangs, aimed for the enemy.
“Tch. Annoying.”
A flick of the wrist deflected Mujin’s strike.
Light—but not light at all. The impact stung.
…At least peak level.
A master among masters.
A single mistake—even with full focus—meant death.
Sochun was decent but not enough.
Baekwoo? Completely useless here.
A hopeless situation.
Time to find a way to escape.
“A disgusting stench.”
Mujin taunted.
He used the enemy’s arrogance, now that he understood their level, to widen the gap. He had no plans to flee.
As Mujin readied his stance, the enemy tilted their head.
“You plan to fight?”
“Does this look like a chat to you?”
Before his words were even done, Mujin closed the distance.
A sharp punch aimed at the enemy’s face.
They dodged by twisting their waist and drew a sword.
“Only the mouth needs to be intact for me to get answers.”
That cold gaze declared their intent to disable him completely.
But what shocked Mujin was the lack of killing intent.
That dead, emotionless gaze held a chilling, lifeless pressure that gripped Baekwoo behind him.
‘I—I’m going to die.’
Sheer terror.
His hands trembled.
And then—
Smack!
A sharp sound snapped Baekwoo out of it.
His vision cleared.
And the first thing he saw—
Blood?
Blood scattered in the air.
Time, which had slowed to a crawl, returned to normal.
“W-what?”
Cheon Mujin smiled as he shook blood off his hand.
“First time getting hit? Doesn’t look like you were raised gently.”
He taunted casually and moved again.
He closed the distance—slow enough for someone at second-tier level, yet quick enough to catch his opponent off guard.
His punch pierced the man’s guard—
Crunch!
A sickening sound of bones shifting, followed by searing pain.
The enemy’s sword cut through nothing but air.
How?
This made no sense.
“How did you kill a Cheonyang Magaksa?”
The voice came again.
The enemy instinctively looked at him.
That tiny opening—
Mujin’s left fist slammed into his cheekbone, sending him flying.
Only then did Mujin breathe out.
“I wasn’t planning on telling you. If you’re that curious… try finding out by force.”
