Chapter 157: Salvation (2)

Like the other instructors, Xiao Hong was offering advice to the students alongside the White Sparrow’s members.

“If you truly wish to become a great warrior of the Divine Cult, you cannot fall so easily for an opponent’s provocations.”

She was advising a female disciple who had fallen for the bandits' taunts during their battle a few days ago.  Although things had worked out in the end, the cadet’s face had turned beet red at the bandits’ lewd remarks.

It wasn't from embarrassment like a proper lady; this was a Demonic Cult member, so it was pure rage. Still, getting worked up by enemy provocations before a fight was just plain stupid.

For Xiao Hong, advising this woman felt pretty weird.

‘All I really need to worry about is the Eighth Young Master, so why am I bothering with advice like this…?’

She had considered the students of the Hall of the Demonic Way to be nothing more than passing acquaintances. But when she saw that female student, she couldn't help but see a reflection of her younger self from over a decade ago, and she couldn't just stand by.

After that, Xiao Hong kept giving various pieces of advice to different students.

'Right. I need to act like a proper instructor to hide my true objective of recruiting the Eighth Young Master.'

She justified her actions to herself as she continued helping the officials.

But she hadn't forgotten her true purpose. She kept stealing glances at Il-mok, who was often dozing off on his horse.

"!!!"

Grumble.

The moment she spotted the White Sparrow Corps Leader approaching Il-mok, her stomach started acting up.

"Ahem. Would you like some of this?"

Hearing that loud rumbling sound, Chu Il-hwan kindly offered Xiao Hong a piece of jerky.

"It's... It's fine, Head Instructor."

Her face turned bright red from the sudden stomach noise, and Xiao Hong quickly bowed her head. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had sliced off a bandit’s groin just a few hours ago.

'...More people will keep showing up to recruit Young Master Il-mok during these field trainings. What the hell am I supposed to do about this?'

Between her binge-eating urges and embarrassment, Xiao Hong kept her head down while sneaking glances at Il-mok. Or more precisely, at the White Sparrow Corps Leader who was approaching him.

"Zzzz."

Il-mok, who'd been napping on his horse, finally opened his eyes when he sensed someone nearby.

“To be able to sleep like that on a horse. You’re quite something.”

Whether that was praise or criticism, Il-mok didn’t care and wiped the drool from his hand.

"Rest is also part of self-management, isn't it?"

The White Sparrow Corps Leader almost burst out laughing at that bold response.

'Still, considering how he handled those bandits, the rumors are probably true.'

He'd seen it with his own eyes, and his men's accounts all matched up.

Not just his martial arts, but the boldness he'd shown in the process.

'Sleeping so carelessly on his horse is probably just another sign of that boldness.'

Convincing himself of this, the Corps Leader casually started a conversation.

"So, what do you think of your time with our White Sparrow Corps these past few days?"

Il-mok had to hide his true feelings at that question.

He couldn't exactly say, "It's been disgusting being with you people, and I hope we never meet again."

This field training had made Il-mok absolutely certain of one thing.

After graduating from the Hall of the Demonic Way, he would never, ever join a combat unit.

'There's only one answer. I have to go to the Central Plains branch.'

He absolutely did not want to live a life where he couldn't wash properly and spent all day running around until his ass was sweaty.

"Eliminating those bandits who tormented the people was truly a rewarding exercise."

He said the complete opposite of what he felt, flashing that natural fake smile he'd perfected during his civil servant days.

The Corps Leader, completely missing Il-mok's insincerity, laughed heartily.

"Haha! In that case, how about joining our White Sparrow Corps after you graduate from the Demonic Way? Someone like you could easily reach Squad Leader rank within a few years."

Even at this insane proposal, Il-mok kept smiling.

"I'd love to in spirit, but I'm afraid that would be difficult, Corps Leader."

Caught off guard by the rejection, the leader stopped laughing and asked with a stern expression.

"Why's that?"

“While the mission of the combat units to stabilize our great Cult’s territory is a noble one, I have a greater purpose.”

"Purpose greater than military duty? What would that be?"

“My apologies, Corps Leader. This involves confidential matters related to my Master, so I can't easily discuss it."

Of course, he didn't have any greater purpose, so Il-mok just threw the Heavenly Demon under the bus.

He wasn't worried about getting caught in the lie.

'Unless this guy's completely insane, he won't go ask my Master to verify whether I'm telling the truth about failing to recruit me.'

Il-mok casually spouted his bullshit while the White Sparrow Corps Leader stared at him intently, as if testing him.

But Il-mok's expression didn't change one bit under that scrutiny.

Managing his expressions was second nature thanks to his civil servant background, and he'd gotten even better at it living in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was a batshit crazy place full of fanatic cultists where one wrong facial expression could cost you your limbs.

Meanwhile, Xiao Hong's face had gone completely pale as she focused all her hearing on eavesdropping on their conversation.

'This can't be... Has the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons already given him a mission...?'

Then, why the hell was she sent all the way to the Hall of the Demonic Way to seduce this kid?

'Chief!!!'

She couldn't help but think of that old man's face, the one who'd sent her here without properly checking things first.

Grumble.

Her clueless stomach once again let out a loud noise.

“Ahem. H-Here, one piece probably wasn’t enough.”

And the equally clueless Chu Il-hwan started rummaging around for more snacks.

***

The White Sparrow Corps's leisurely journey continued for several days.

As they traveled through Xinjiang's wastelands, they occasionally encountered nomads or merchants, but didn't run into any more bandits.

After spending days together, the relationship between the White Sparrow Corps members and the students had grown a bit closer, but Il-mok was the exception.

The Corps Leader's conversation with Il-mok had already spread among the members, so there was no point in trying to recruit him.

How could they prioritize themselves over the will of the Heavenly Demon, who was basically a god of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult?

Of course, since he was the famously talked-about youngest disciple of the Heavenly Demon, some people still wanted to build connections with him regardless of recruitment.

"I'm sorry. I need to focus on meditation for mental cultivation."

But Il-mok always sent them away with this response after brief greetings or simple exchanges.

"Snore."

And then he'd usually just take a nap.

While Il-mok voluntarily lived the life of a loner, two weeks flew by.

'Ugh. When the hell are we going back?'

Just as Il-mok was getting sick of this boring, filthy wasteland life, he heard something that made his ears perk up.

“Let’s spend the night at a nearby village to restock our supplies.”

Following the Corps Leader's orders, they changed course and headed somewhere else.

Soon they could see a small village in the distance, but since this was Xinjiang's wasteland—basically an empty plain—it was actually quite far away.

After traveling toward the clearly visible but distant village for about two hours, they finally reached it as the sky turned the colors of sunset.

‘Finally, I can wash properly and get a good night's sleep.’

With that hope in his heart, Il-mok entered the village, only to belatedly sense a strange atmosphere.

'What's that smell...?'

An unpleasant mix of sweat and sour odors was wafting from all over the village.

It was coming from the villagers.

When over sixty people suddenly swarmed into their village, the residents came out of their houses looking terrified, but then quickly started bowing when they saw the White Sparrow Corps's flag.

"We greet the warriors of the Divine Cult."

“To what do we owe the honor of your visit to such a humble place…”

They all looked pretty shabby.

It was only after they passed through the village and arrived at the small Heavenly Demon Divine Cult branch built on one side that Il-mok understood the situation.

“My apologies, Corps Leader. It hasn’t rained for some time, and the village well is nearly dry.”

The branch leader, looking apologetic, was subtly encouraging them to leave.

"Even the villagers are only drinking water to wet their throats, trying to conserve what's left in the well. It would be difficult to accommodate over sixty people."

From what Il-mok had observed entering the village, it was a small place with around two hundred residents.

If sixty more people were added to the well that those two hundred were already struggling to share, it would inevitably run dry in an instant.

Understanding the situation, the White Sparrow Corps Leader asked the branch leader with a worried expression.

"We can just leave and go to another village, but what about the people here? Who knows when it'll rain again?"

"...Actually, we sent a letter to the main headquarters a few days ago, but I doubt they can transport water all the way here."

At the branch leader's explanation, the Corps Leader looked around at the remaining villagers with pity.

Feeling sympathy, he gazed at the shabby villagers for a moment.

His slowly turning gaze stopped at one particular spot.

Not at a villager, but at Il-mok's face.

'Don’t fucking tell me?!'

Feeling an inexplicable sense of dread, Il-mok tried to look away, but the Corps Leader spoke first.

"Disciple Il-mok."

"...Yes, Corps Leader."

"That spell you used for bathing during our camping nights. Can you still use it?"

His worst fears came true. Il-mok sighed internally and answered.

"I can use it, but it probably won't be enough for everyone in the village to drink their fill."

"At least it's better than nothing, right?"

Il-mok couldn't really argue with that, so he eventually nodded.

He hated troublesome tasks, but what choice did he have?

‘How can I ignore them when they're all staring at me like that?’

He wasn't talking about the Corps Leader's stare. It was the sight of the villagers, who still hadn't returned to their homes, looking on anxiously, worried that the newcomers might take what little water they had left. Their wretched state made it difficult to look away.

On top of that, there was a nagging sense of unease.

'It's not... because of me, is it?'

The Dew Condensation Spell that Il-mok used every night for bathing was a spell that gathered moisture from the air to form water droplets.

In other words, every time he bathed using the Dew Condensation Spell, the moisture in Xinjiang's atmosphere inevitably decreased.

'No way. Xinjiang is huge, there's no way my bathing alone could... It can't be. Definitely not.'

Considering the size of Xinjiang and the distance they traveled each day, it shouldn't be related to this drought.

But he still felt guilty about it.

"Where is the well?"

To finally rid himself of that feeling and the pity he felt for the villagers, Il-mok headed for the well.

The branch leader led the way, followed by his companions.

And the villagers crowded behind them, murmuring amongst themselves.

The air was a mix of anticipation and anxiety; the hope that these warriors might offer some help coexisted with the fear that they might take the last dregs of water from their well.

"Here it is."

The branch leader, having heard Il-mok's name and realizing he was the Heavenly Demon's last disciple, respectfully pointed to the well.

Il-mok walked calmly up to the well.

‘…There really isn’t much left.’

The well had been dug quite deep. But the water had almost completely dried up, making it look more like a black pit than a well.

After looking down into the well, Il-mok straightened up and looked around to find over a hundred people standing in a circle, all watching him.

"Hoo."

Taking a light breath, Il-mok closed his eyes and focused on his qi.

The qi of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword flowed from his dantian and merged with the atmospheric qi. From that mix of energies, he began to single out the water vapor.

Sadly, among all those countless qi in the atmosphere, moisture made up only a small portion.

The moisture he could sense from the drying well at the bottom of that pit actually felt more substantial.

‘Tsk. This is like trying to squeeze water from a dry rag.’

Clicking his tongue in frustration, Il-mok formed hand seals as if he had no other choice.

As he formed the seals, Il-mok's energy stirred the qi flowing through the atmosphere, and through those disruptions, moisture began separating out bit by bit.

Pop!

As he formed another seal, the separated moisture gathered in front of his hands.

Pop!

Finally, when Il-mok formed the last seal and pushed both hands forward.

The combined moisture condensed intensely, forming a small stream of water that began flowing down toward the well.

"!!!"

“Ooooh! Oh, gods!”

Seeing this miraculous sight, some of the surrounding villagers immediately started bowing toward Il-mok.

"Wh-wh-who is that person to perform such magic?!"

Others stood there stunned, while some turned to the branch leader with questions.

The branch leader answered with pride.

"Haven't you all heard the rumors? This is the Eighth Disciple of the Supreme One, Young Master Il-mok."

At the branch leader's introduction, all the villagers who were still standing dropped to their knees and bowed toward Il-mok.

"Ahhh. The Heavenly Demon has surely sent his disciple to save us!"

"The Heavenly Demon Descent!! Ten Thousand Demons Obey!!"

"Long live! Long live! Long live the Heavenly Demon!!"