Chapter 148: Formation Art (3)

Ahn Jeok-un gave up. Arguing with this guy was like talking to a brick wall.

He shook his head slowly and that's when he spotted Il-mok.

Years of experience had taught him to recognize the signs. He could tell this guy was about to dump something on him.

Just as Ahn Jeok-un opened his mouth to speak, Il-mok beat him to the punch.

"Since Disciple Gwak Sul and Disciple Dokgo get along so well, why don't you assign Disciple Gwak Sul to teach Disciple Dokgo, Instructor? That would be perfect!"

An Jeok-un was inwardly impressed that Il-mok had read his intentions so quickly and turned to look at Gwak Sul.

Aside from the Eighth Young Master, Gwak Sul was the one who followed the formation training the best, so he seemed more than capable of handling that moron.

"Very well then. Disciple Gwak Sul, from now on, you are in charge of helping Disciple Dokgo."

The words ‘Why me again?’ danced on the tip of Gwak Sul’s tongue but he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

“…As you command.”

He shuffled over to Dokgo Pae's side like a cow being led to slaughter and started explaining various things.

He broke down the principles of the Formation and even tried to coax and soothe him into understanding why he needed to learn it in the first place.

Meanwhile, An Jeok-un finished repairing the Illusion Dream Formation that had been destroyed and turned to watch Gwak Sul and Dokgo Pae together.

'He seems like a pretty sharp fellow just from the way he talks. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why he hangs around with an idiot like that.'

This was completely incomprehensible for An Jeok-un who had lived a normal youth.

He had no idea what it felt like to suffer from Stockholm syndrome after a long period of kidnapping and confinement.

***

A few days have passed since the first day of the Formation class and since then, the students have started to get the hang of it.

Even Dokgo Pae, who struggled the most with the class, managed to keep up thanks to Gwak Sul's almost motherly care.

That is, if you chose to ignore the times Dokgo Pae would just snap and try to solve things with his fists again and resulting in the class being disrupted.

But while it wasn't obvious on the surface, there was someone else who posed the greatest risk of causing real trouble.

Tsk.

Il-mok gritted his teeth at the sound of tongue-clicking that echoed in his mind again.

'This sneaky bastard is constantly looking for opportunities.'

Maybe it was because of the unique situation of being trapped in Formations, but every illusion and every maze was an invitation for his Demonic Art’s side effects to crawl out and whisper temptation in his ear.

Since Il-mok had reached a level that was on a completely different scale from the other disciples, the scale of damage he could create was incomparably worse than Dokgo Pae throwing a tantrum.

"Phew."

After escaping the combined assault of Formations and the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword today once again, Il-mok let out a deep sigh.

"Disciple Il-mok."

Suddenly, An Jeok-un called his name.

"Come to my office after the classes end."

"???"

Il-mok had no idea why he was being singled out, but An Jeok-un didn't bother to explain.

So after all the training time ended, Il-mok headed to An Jeok-un's office.

"Come in."

An Jeok-un greeted Il-mok with his characteristically unreadable expression and gestured to an empty chair.

"Have a seat."

Once Il-mok sat, An Jeok-un took the seat opposite him.

“I won’t waste time talking in circles. I’ll be blunt. What do you think about coming to the Eight Trigrams Hall after graduating from the Hall of the Demonic Way?"

The moment he finished speaking, a faint presence was detected from outside the office.

Naturally, both An Jeok-un and Il-mok looked in that direction, but the presence quickly disappeared.

Xiao Hong, the source of that presence, pressed against the wall with both hands frantically covering her mouth.

'This can't be! The Eight Trigrams Hall was after the Eighth Young Master too!'

This was a completely unexpected development.

'Why would the Eight Trigrams Hall, which handles formations and sorcery, want the Eighth Young Master who hasn't even learned a single spell?'

Sure, he was a famous genius, but he had no connection to the Eight Trigrams Hall.

And yet, a knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach.

'…If they successfully recruit him, what happens to me?'

She would truly become nothing more than a useless sack of barley.

The awful thoughts made her stomach clench and growl. A stream of drool soaked the hands clamped over her mouth.

Meanwhile, Il-mok's voice could be heard from inside.

"I haven't learned anything about sorcery, Chamber Master.”

The polite refusal calmed the hunger in Xiao Hong’s stomach, but then An Jeok-un's voice was heard again.

“I know that. But your talent is astounding. I believe that even if you start from scratch, you’ll be more than capable of pulling your weight. I would stake my family’s name on it.”

For the prodigy of the An Family—a great house that stood alone in its mastery of sorcery over Demonic Arts—to bet his family’s name on Il-mok…

Xiao Hong's stomach began to violently churn again.

***

While Xiao Hong was having a meltdown just outside the door, Il-mok was actually thinking it over.

"This seems like a difficult decision to make quickly. May I ask a few questions first?"

"Ask freely."

“Do the sorcerous arts of the Divine Cult have side effects like Demonic Arts do?”

An Jeok-un shook his head.

“There are dangers, of course. You can suffer internal injuries if you mishandle the flow of energy while casting a powerful spell, or trap yourself in a formation you don’t understand. But there are no side effects of the kind you see with Demonic Arts.”

After finishing his answer, An Jeok-un felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding.

'...Is he displeased about not learning Demonic Arts?'

The An Family and the Eight Trigrams Hall were quite unique places within the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. Most of the people there hadn't learned Demonic Arts because dealing with sorcery or formations while suffering from side effects wasn't feasible.

The problem was that Demonic Arts were essentially the foundation of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

According to doctrine, one should become strong as quickly as possible to punish evildoers, but sorcery and Formations were disciplines that took quite a long time to properly learn and deploy.

That's why some warriors in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult looked down on the An Family and the Eight Trigrams Hall. They just kept their mouth shut because of the Eight Trigram Hall’s authority.

An Jeok-un thought he saw a flash of anger and sorrow in Il-mok’s eyes and wondered if he was one of those fanatics.

He was right about the anger, at least. Il-mok was fucking livid.

'I should have learned sorcery from the beginning!!'

Why the hell did I learn Demonic Art!!??

The mere thought of that goddamn Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword and its constant harassment still made him grind his teeth.

But he had to be sure. Il-mok asked with a glimmer of hope. “Am I really that talented?”

"Hmm... I'm not sure yet if I'd call you a 'genius.' But considering how quickly you understand explanations during training and your excellent intuition for instantly finding the Life Gates in Formations, I'd say you could at least be called talented."

Listening to this almost made Il-mok shed tears of blood.

‘FUCK!’

The intuition was obviously thanks to this body's natural talent. As for brains, while he didn't think of himself as a genius, he had some expertise when it came to studying.

No, he didn't even need to be a genius or particularly talented. As long as he had sufficient ability to learn, it would be fine to learn sorcery instead of Demonic Arts.

Anything would be better than putting up with these fucking side effects.

Still, he couldn't just leap at it.

Getting scammed once or twice makes you pitiful, but getting scammed a third time makes you an idiot.

In that sense, Il-mok had already been caught up in scams twice.

'It was like that when I was a civil servant too.'

He suffered for three years to pass the exam, so he couldn't bring himself to quit, then got stabbed and died and ended up in this world.

'It was the same when I got dragged to the Demonic Cult.'

Okay, that one wasn’t exactly his choice. It was either come here or die at the hands of his master or the Murim Alliance.

Either way, Il-mok knew very well from experience that choosing the wrong job would ruin your goddamn life.

"How is sorcery research usually conducted at the Eight Trigrams Hall?"

“What time does the workday start? When do you usually clock out?”

Workload. Hours. Workplace benefits.

He interrogated An Jeok-un, leaving no stone unturned. And as An Jeok-un answered, he quickly realized his initial assessment had been wrong.

‘Hahaha. His eyes are practically shining. He’s definitely interested.’

A bright-eyed look of curiosity and hope had replaced the anger he’d seen earlier. He still had no idea what the anger was about but wasn’t about to ask. Why risk spooking a prized recruit when you were so close to landing him?

Their private job fair went on for a bit longer.

After getting a good picture of the work life at the Eight Trigrams Hall, Il-mok opened his mouth to satisfy a sudden curiosity.

“Ah, one more thing. The talismans and the ink in the gourd you use to make the formations… are those also produced by the Eight Trigram Hall?”

“Hahaha! But of course. They are the tools of our trade.”

“Paper and ink that can hold qi… that’s incredible items.”

“Hahaha, and just as incredible to make. Take this talisman for example. We boil sulfur, dissolve various herbs into it, let it cool and harden, then grinding it into a fine powder which is then used to make the paper.”

"B-boil sulfur?"

“That’s right. And this ink in this gourd? That’s a special liquid made by adding various ingredients to a base we get from melting down a mineral called cinnabarite (朱沙).”

For a while after that, he enthusiastically explained the process of making sorcery tools.

An Jeok-un realized a bit late that Il-mok's attitude had changed.

Il-mok's attitude, which had seemed full of dreams and hopes, had somehow become cold.

"Is there some problem?"

"...I'm truly grateful for your kind invitation to the Eight Trigrams Hall. I did feel tempted while listening to your explanation, but one important fact just came to mind."

"Important fact?"

When An Jeok-un asked back, Il-mok answered with a serious expression.

"I am a disciple of the Supreme One. Of course, sorcery and Formations are also important works that act as a pillar of the Divine Cult, but as his disciple, I think I should devote myself to Demonic Art at least until I achieve Transcendence."

"Hmm...."

Faced with such a powerful display of loyalty to the Heavenly Demon, An Jeok-un couldn't say anything in response.

If he argued, he’d risk sounding like he was badmouthing the Heavenly Demon himself.

“…Even so, continue to practice sorcery on the side just as you are now. Once you reach Transcendence, there will be more than enough time to study it seriously.”

"I'll think about it."

Il-mok answered in a heavy tone, then soon left.

"Phew."

A sigh escaped him.

It wasn't because he was disappointed he couldn't join the Eight Trigrams Hall.

Using his master's name had just been an excuse anyway.

‘Of course there's no such thing as a perfect fucking job in this world. Damnit.’

It was a sigh of pure, unadulterated relief.

Il-mok knew what cinnabarite was. More precisely, what came out when you melted the mineral called cinnabar.

‘These absolute lunatics are boiling sulfur and mercury. They're all trying to die young.’

After hearing all of An Jeok-un's explanations, Il-mok finally understood.

The Eight Trigrams Hall was essentially no different from a hazardous waste disposal site.