Chapter 3: Cult (似而非)

I knew exactly what the title ‘Heavenly Demon’ meant.

In most martial arts novels, it signified overwhelming martial prowess, often attributed to the protagonist or the ultimate antagonist. Above all, it referred to the leader of a group commonly referred to as the "Demonic Cult."

While the Demonic Cult boasted various names depending on the story—Sun Moon Divine Cult, Ming Cult, Sacred Flame Cult, Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—the underlying meaning remained consistent: the leader of a heretical cult, one that possesses monstrous strength.

'So, essentially, I'm becoming the disciple of a cult leader?'

This also implied the possibility of inheriting leadership in the future.

‘It’s… quite good?’

As someone who valued a stable and peaceful life, my feelings were ambivalent.

And then I started thinking about all those cult leaders I'd occasionally seen in modern news reports.

'...Maybe it's not so bad?'

While their countless crimes were undeniably reprehensible, I figured so long as I avoided criminal activities, I could live an easy life. All I had to do was make occasional appearances on service days, spout some nonsense, and put on a show of shooting energy blasts or performing fake spiritual possessions.

Come to think of it, in this world, energy blasts were real. I wouldn't even have to fake it. Genuine energy blasts and aerial feats of lightness were entirely possible. If people in the scientifically advanced modern world went crazy over fake shows, imagine how it would be here.

'Ah, is that why the Heavenly Demons in these novels were a bunch of overpowered characters?'

Lost in contemplation about the correlation between the cult and the martial arts prowess of Heavenly Demons, I belatedly realized that the cult leader—no, my future Master—was observing me intently.

"My apologies. I was taken aback by the unexpected title and behaved discourteously."

“Hahaha. How could something like that be considered a discourtesy?” My Master chuckled warmly, stroking his beard before uttering an unexpected remark.

"Rather, you are quite unique."

"...In what way, sir?"

"I'm referring to your reactions. Though you seemed slightly surprised when you first woke up, you quickly composed yourself. Where others might show fear or anger, you sought logical conversation. And it's the same even now. Instead of fearing my title, you appear deep in thought."

"I... It's just that these events are so far beyond my expectations that they haven't fully sunk in."

"Hahaha. I’m not criticizing you. Your profound mind and calm demeanor for your age are quite pleasing. I'm merely pleased that my eyes haven't failed me."

At first, he praised my body.

While the phrasing was somewhat odd, he likely didn't mean it that way. It seemed this body was likely one that was very well-suited for learning martial arts. He tested my character with a bizarre threat, and now he admired my deep thinking and composure.

Well, my body might be fifteen, but my mind was thirty-four. It was only natural.

‘Somehow, I feel like his rose-colored glasses are only getting thicker.’

I couldn't shake the feeling that escaping this Heavenly Demon's grasp was becoming increasingly impossible. However, the life of a cult leader seemed rather appealing. It would be a different story if I had to build up a cult from scratch, but inheriting an established one promised a life of comfort and ease.

Reaching this conclusion, I hurriedly opened my mouth. "Ah, I seem to have delayed my introduction. My name is Il-mok (一木)." It was a basic courtesy to share my name after learning his.

"Hmm. Il-mok... The surname Il (一) is unfamiliar to me."

"It's not a surname in the traditional sense. The character 'Il' means first son, and Mok (木) is one of the few Hanja characters my parents know."

Illiteracy was commonplace in this era of disparate education. It wasn't unusual for many people to know few or no characters at all.

"Huh. What became of your parents? You referred to the innkeeper like a ‘father,' suggesting he wasn't your biological father."

"They passed away about a year ago. Afterward, he took me in, providing food and shelter in exchange for work, and even taught me some characters."

"He even taught you characters..." The Heavenly Demon regarded me with pity.

"Upon returning to the cult, I shall investigate this matter. At the very least, we must identify those who murdered your father figure. If you want, I’ll give you the chance to get your own vengeance. If not, I’ll send my men to do it for you.”

"...Weren't the assassins already killed at the inn?" I asked hesitantly and the Heavenly Demon responded with a gentle smile.

"Hahaha. That man was merely following orders. Who says revenge is done when you break the sword in half? You have to go after the man who swung it.”

"By those who swung the sword, you mean..."

"Those who pursued me and those who ordered the massacre at the inn. All must be found and eliminated."

"..." I just stared at the Heavenly Demon, who was cheerfully promising mass murder.

'...Is it too late to escape now?'

A Demonic Cult was, after all, a Demonic Cult.

***

It goes without saying, but escape was an impossible task.

The carriage held a formidable martial artist, my kidnapper, and potentially my future Master.

The driver, as I later learned, was the man who dispatched the Murim Alliance assassin at the inn, meaning any escape attempt would likely mirror that unfortunate fellow's fate. It was illogical for a Heavenly Demon's escort to be weak.

And so, with mixed feelings of strange excitement and anxiety about becoming a cult leader, I continued the carriage journey.

Eventually, I arrived at the main headquarters of the Heaven Demon Sect. I must have been unconscious for quite some time.

Upon our arrival, two gatekeepers prostrated themselves before the Heavenly Demon the moment he disembarked. "We greet the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons!"

This fervent display wasn't limited to the gatekeepers.

"We greet the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons!"

"Oh, savior!"

"O’ Heavenly Demon!"

Every person we saw basically threw themselves onto the floor and started praying to him.

And the man himself, the target of all this worship, just smiled calmly and soaked it all in with a gentle smile.

Watching all this go down as I trailed behind the Heavenly Demon, I was deeply impressed.

'So this is what it’s like to be a cult leader?'

It was a rather overwhelming sight, but…

'This is actually pretty awesome.'

It was truly a sight that embodied absolute power.

Even more remarkable was how everyone, though casting curious glances at me following behind the Heavenly Demon, dared not question his judgment. The atmosphere suggested they simply accepted that the great Heaven Demon must have his reasons for bringing me along.

After basking in the Heavenly Demon's aura while traversing the compound, we stopped before a building bearing the inscription "Windrock Palace (風岩殿)."

“You must be tired from traveling for so long in a body that has not even learned martial arts. Rest here for the day."

Touched by his consideration, I made a decision. "Thank you, sir. No, from now on, I shall address you as Master."

Maybe it was the sudden shift in address, but my new Master stroked his beard and gave me an interested look. "Have you finally decided?"

"Yes, Master. As you said, if this is my only option, dedicating myself here is the right path."

"Hahaha. Wisely chosen."

To solidify my commitment, I spoke. "Then, though belated, may I offer my formal bow now?"

Typically, when one thinks of the kowtow given to a master, the images that pop into their head are the ones depicted by historical drama. However, this was a common misconception.

Kowtow itself encompassed nine forms of bowing, and the one reserved for superiors like masters, parents, or rulers was called grand kowtow.

As I knelt and performed the bow, Master erupted in hearty laughter. “Hahahaha! It seems I have gained a truly magnificent disciple in my twilight years.”

He then instructed me to rise, adding a final remark. “Since I must attend to the Cult’s affairs, I can’t be with you constantly. Therefore, I shall assign you a handmaid. She will assist you and teach you the ways of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult."

For a guy in charge, he sure was long-winded, but I was hanging on every word.

'A handmaid...'

I, a South Korean civil servant who had endured workplace bullying, now had a subordinate.

While I had no intention of mistreating her, the situation felt surreal.

'Life is all about connections.' And having the cult leader as my Master was the ultimate connection.

Shortly after my busy Master departed, a melodious voice echoed from the entrance.

"Young Master Il-mok. Following the Heavenly Demon's will, I, Jin Hayeon (陳赮蓮), have come to attend to your needs."

Her enchanting voice made my heart flutter.

I responded in a deliberately calm tone, "You may enter."

Still unaccustomed to authoritative speech, I addressed my maid with respect.

And the woman who opened the door and entered, contrary to her name which meant ‘read lotus,’ had snow-white skin and strikingly black hair and eyebrows.

She was like a doll.

'Holy...'

She’s the most beautiful woman I've ever encountered in my life.

She’s the kind of beauty you'd expect to see on TV—possessing looks that had absolutely no connection to my reality.

It wasn't as though I'd never dated in my thirty-four years. I thought I'd built up enough immunity to women, but this was different. Here was a woman whose beauty made even striking up a conversation seem daunting, and she was to be my maid?

'Master. Just what kind of life have you been living?

If a mere disciple of the cult leader was treated to this, what kind of life did the cult leader himself lead?

My mind kept conjuring endless rose-tinted futures.

Even as I tried to press the mental pause button to calm myself down, the movie in my head quickly resumed, already fast-forwarding to scenes where I was contemplating names for our second child.

That's when she opened her mouth with a cold expression.

"I understand from the Heavenly Demon that you turned fifteen this year."

Starting with age... well, age mattered between men and women. However, while my body was fifteen, my mind was in its mid-thirties. Our future interactions (?) should pose no significant problems.

"Indeed," I replied confidently.

"Then, next year, when you turn sixteen, you must enter the Hall of the Demonic Way."

"What is the Hall of the Demonic Way?"

"It is an institution where the most exceptional children of cult members and their offspring are selected and trained to become future leaders of our Divine Cult. Entry is granted to those who turn sixteen each year."

In short, an elite training ground.

'Hmm... A place to learn martial arts. Like a military academy?'

Pondering this, I asked Jin Hayeon, "Then, as the Heavenly Demon's disciple, can I enter without taking the test?"

"Even as the Heavenly Demon's disciple, you must pass the entrance examination."

"...If it's a place for only the most exceptional, doesn’t that mean they’ve all been training for this for years?”

"That is correct."

"...And I'm expected to enter in just one year?"

"That is correct," she replied with an impassive tone.

"Isn't that a rather unreasonable requirement?"

"It is precisely because you have only one year that the expectation is merely to 'pass.' Among the Heavenly Demon's disciples, none have failed to enter as the top scorer or graduate as such."

Her detached response highlighted a crucial fact: I wasn't the Heavenly Demon's only disciple. In other words, there was no guarantee that I would become the cult leader..

"What happens if I fail to enter the Hall of the Demonic Way?"

"You will die."

Apparently, even being the cult leader's disciple wasn't a walk in the park.