Bad Destiny and Good Destiny (1)
After the Tongcheon Demon Cult collapsed, the Demonic Path had been fragmented for nearly three hundred years. It was Gwan Hyo, the Thunderbolt Demon Emperor, who unified that fractured Demonic Path.
A man approached Mucheon Pavilion, Gwan Hyo's residence. With every step he took, the murderous intent of the warriors guarding Mucheon Pavilion poured down like blades. Yet the man's expression remained relaxed, and his steps were leisurely, as if he were out for a casual stroll.
The one who was truly tense was Yul Sarim, the leader of the Hocheondan Unit, who was responsible for the pavilion's security.
"What should we do, Unit Leader?"
Deputy leader Neungcho asked, his face stiff with tension.
"There has been no order to let him pass. Of course we must stop him."
Yul Sarim spoke as if reaffirming his resolve rather than answering.
"What is the matter, Great Lord Sama?"
Sama Geon stopped walking and replied indifferently.
"I've come to see the Cult Leader."
"Turn back. The order to let no one enter has not yet been lifted."
The corners of Sima Jian's eyes rose slightly. That alone caused a chill to sweep through the area.
"Hearing the same words every day for half a month has grown tiresome."
At Sima Jian's cold response, an ominous feeling crept over Yulsarim. His gaze was drawn to the sword hanging at Sima Jian's waist.
Yulsarim's face hardened. His pupils trembled violently, and his quivering lips betrayed fear he could not suppress.
Within Mucheon Pavilion, only the Hocheondan guards were permitted to bear weapons—except for one person: Sima Jian, the Great Lord of the New Demon faction.
It was Sima Jian who had rendered distinguished service in unifying the Demonic Path, establishing a second Tongcheon Demon Cult, and placing Gwan Hyo, head of the New Demon Clan, on the throne as Cult Leader.
In recognition of this, Gwan Hyo granted Sama Geon two privileges: the right to be pardoned once no matter the offense—even treason—and the right to enter Mucheon Pavilion while bearing a sword.
Yet until now, Sima Jian had never once entered Mucheon Pavilion with his sword at his side.
But today was different.
The sword hanging limply at his waist felt unbearably heavy.
There was a clear resolve that he would not simply turn back this time.
Can we stop him?
Yulsarim glanced around.
Exactly thirty members of the Hocheon Unit surrounded Sima Jian.
They were all late-generation elites, handpicked from among the strongest of the New Demon Clan. Even if any master in the world attacked, Yulsarim was confident they could at least hold them back.
And on top of that… the Vajra Yaksha.
Yulsarim's gaze shifted to the massive man loitering behind Sima Jian.
Cheolwoo, the Geumgang Yaksha—deputy commander of the New Demon forces.
Though somewhat overshadowed by Sima Jian, the name Geumgang Yaksha was anything but light.
To allies, it was reassuring beyond measure; to enemies, it was more terrifying than the Lord of the Underworld. What made the situation even more frightening was the fact that he obeyed only Sima Jian's orders.
Even if one invoked the Cult Leader's authority, Cheolwoo was the sort of man who would snort in disdain and ignore it outright.
"I must see the Cult Leader. Please step aside."
Sima Jian's words sounded like a final warning. Though every hair on his body stood on end, Yulsarim did not retreat.
"There has been no order to let you in. Please turn back."
He tried to sound firm, but the trembling in Yulsarim's voice made it sound almost desperate.
"Are you going to stop me?"
Yulsarim could not answer easily.
The lives of his subordinates depended on his reply.
Damn it!
He was caught between a rock and a hard place. He desperately wanted to let him pass. But without the Cult Leader's permission, he could not allow Sama Geon through.
"I'm sorry. Protecting Mucheon Pavilion and the Cult Leader is the duty of the Hocheondan Unit."
With a heavy sigh, Yulsarim drew his sword. At the same time, the surrounding Hocheondan members drew theirs in unison.
"Ha! Have you all gone mad? How dare you draw your swords and pull this crap in front of him!"
When the Hocheondan members revealed killing intent toward Sima Jian, Cheolwoo—who had been acting as if none of this concerned him—strode forward, shouting roughly.
Several Hocheondan members moved to block Cheolwoo.
"Don't!"
Yulsarim cried out in alarm, trying to restrain his men, but Cheolwoo was far faster.
With a casually thrown punch, the swords aimed at him snapped like twigs. A light kick sent a Hocheondan member flipping through the air before crashing down.
As if that were not enough, Cheolwoo snorted hotly and was about to move toward his next target—
"Enough."
At Sima Jian's short command, Cheolwoo's beastlike momentum stopped dead.
"I told you not to run wild."
At the quiet rebuke, Cheolwoo—who moments earlier had been radiating killing intent—scratched the back of his head awkwardly and grinned.
"They didn't know their place and pulled their swords. Anyway, sorry, boss."
Yulsarim and the Hocheondan members were once again seized by fear as they watched Cheolwoo retreat like a scolded dog.
Facing someone who could stop the rampaging Geumgang Yaksha with a single word made their knees go weak.
"This is as far as my courtesy goes. If you block me, I will cut you down."
Sima Jian stepped forward without hesitation. He had not yet drawn his sword, but the aura pouring from him alone forced everyone to hold their breath.
"Stop him!"
Sweat now pouring down his face, Yulsarim shouted with all his strength. At his command, the Hocheondan members—who had been hesitating—once again unleashed killing intent toward Sima Jian.
"Idiots. You'd do anything if you're eager to die."
Cheolwoo jeered mockingly.
"I warned you."
With those cold words, Sima Jian's already overwhelming aura exploded. A violent wind surged outward from him, making the tiles of Mucheon Pavilion tremble.
Slowly, Sima Jian's hand moved toward the sword at his waist.
We're… going to die.
That single thought filled the minds of Yulsarim and every Hocheondan member.
Sima Jian finally drew his sword.
"Kgh—!"
Just as everyone prepared to face him with despair on their faces, a single voice rang out from within Mucheon Pavilion.
"Stand down. New Demon Great Lord, you too."
Before the words had even finished echoing, Yulsarim shouted like a thunderclap.
"Stand down!"
At his desperate cry, the Hocheondan members vanished like the wind, none daring to lag behind.
Cheolwoo snorted in ridicule as he watched them disappear in the blink of an eye.
"What a bunch of idiots."
"Wait here quietly. Don't do anything unnecessary."
Having already sheathed his sword, Sama Geon resumed walking toward Mucheon Pavilion.
Completely drained, Yulsarim stepped aside.
"It's fortunate that I won't have to behead you, Unit Leader."
"So I was just lucky, then. But… were you really going to do it?"
Yulsarim asked with a hollow expression.
"Well. Who knows?"
Sima Jian gave a faint chuckle as he brushed past him and entered Mucheon Pavilion.
Watching his retreating figure, Yulsarim bit his lip hard.
Sima Jian did not draw his sword lightly. But once he did, blood was always spilled. Given his temperament, even someone he had known for a long time would not have been spared once the sword was drawn.
He would have cut me down. Without a doubt.
Unconsciously, Yulsarim raised a damp hand and touched his neck.
"Greetings, Sect Leader."
Upon entering the Mucheon Pavilion, Sima Jian knelt and offered a respectful bow.
Gwan-hyo sat at the center of the long table, with his two sons seated on either side of him, both wearing displeased expressions.
"Sit comfortably,"
Gwan-hyo gestured.
"I'm fine,"
Sima Jian replied, politely declining as he slowly rose.
Without urging him again, Gwan-hyo poured wine into the empty cup before him.
When the amber-colored liquor filled the cup, he gave a light wave of his hand.
The cup floated up and flew toward Sima Jian.
Sima Jian caught the flying cup with ease and drained it in a single gulp.
"You don't even doubt it?"
"There is no reason to doubt,"
Sima Jian answered, placing the cup on the table and bowing his head.
"I had hoped you wouldn't come."
As Gwan-hyo spoke with a bitter expression, Sima Jian picked up the wine bottle.
"I had no choice but to come. When I first met you at Black Dragon Valley, you made us a promise. You said that if we served the Shinma Clan for ten years, you would grant us our freedom. Those ten years have long since passed, and the condition you set for me three years ago has also been fulfilled."
"A promise, you say…."
Gwan-hyo murmured softly as he lifted the cup Sima Jian had refilled.
"Yes. It has already been five years since you left Black Dragon Valley and revealed yourself to the world. Including the time spent in Black Dragon Valley, that would make twelve years, wouldn't it?"
"Twelve years and fifteen days,"
Sima Jian replied in a calm, cold tone.
At those words, Gwan-pae—the eldest son, who had already been listening with an irritated expression—shot him a murderous glare.
Though he clearly sensed Gwan-pae's hostility, Sima Jian paid it no heed. His gaze remained fixed solely on Gwan-hyo.
"Though you unified the scattered Demonic Path and revived the Tongcheon Demon Sect, it is still not perfect."
"Three years ago, the condition you gave me was not the unification of the Demonic Path, but the destruction of the Ten Great Powers of the Demonic Path that controlled it. And they have all knelt before you, Sect Leader."
At Sima Jian's rebuttal, Gwan-hyo let out a bitter smile.
"That is… true."
Lifting his cup once more, Gwan-hyo stared steadily at Sima Jian.
Among all the children raised in Black Dragon Valley, he was the most outstanding. Still, he wasn't this exceptional. In terms of martial arts alone, he was weaker than Cheol-woo.
Gwan-hyo's eyes darkened.
Yet three years ago, after he returned from destroying the Gwimun family, he changed. The murderous aura he used to exude vanished, his presence completely different, and his martial arts grew to an unimaginable level. Just what happened in the Gwimun family?
His thoughts did not last long. His eldest son, Gwan-pae, who had been glaring coldly at Sama-geon, raised his voice.
"So you're saying you're leaving?"
"Yes,"
Sima Jian replied without even glancing at him.
"And if I say you cannot?"
Feeling ignored, Gwan-pae's voice rose further.
Sama-geon did not answer. He merely looked at Gwan-hyo, who silently tilted his cup.
Gwan-pae spoke again.
"Answer me—"
"I will take this as your permission and withdraw now."
Cutting Gwan-pae off, Sima Jian bowed deeply toward Gwan-hyo. At the sight, Gwan-pae slammed his hands on the table and sprang to his feet.
"Insolent bastard! How dare you—!"
His words went no further.
With a stern look, Gwan-hyo silenced Gwan-pae and slowly spoke.
"I already knew, three years ago, that this day would come. I tried in every way to keep you by my side. But I could find no way to change your heart."
"I apologize."
"Hollow words."
Gwan-hyo gave a faint chuckle, and the cup in his hand crumbled into dust.
"Go. You've worked hard all this time. To you, this may have been a dreadful ill fate, but to me, it was a good one. I will never forget your service."
At last, permission was granted. Sima Jian, who had braced himself for the worst, suppressed the surge of emotions, knelt, and offered a respectful bow.
"Thank you, Sect Leader. Take care."
Gwan-hyo watched Sima Jian's retreating figure with eyes filled with countless emotions.
"I'm leaving too. Take care, all of you."
From outside the door, Cheol-woo poked his head in, offered a brief farewell—and promptly slammed the door shut.