Chapter 162:  The Newcomers (4)

Cheon Su-ryong tried his best to keep his composure. He steadied his breathing, took his stance, and aimed his spear.

At that moment, the instructor's command rang out.

"Begin!"

The Eighth Young Master hadn't bothered taking a proper stance and was still swaying around with those drowsy eyes of his.

A strange sense of unease washed over him, but Cheon Su-ryong decided to pay it no mind.

‘Don't let your guard down!’

Right now, all he had to do was give it his best shot!

Steeling his resolve, Cheon Su-ryong carefully stepped forward using his lightness skill as he approached Il-mok.

The moment he closed the distance to his own spear's striking range—

Swoosh!

Cheon Su-ryong thrust his spear with the technique he'd been polishing throughout his short sixteen years of life.

If his father, who had taught him spearmanship, had seen this move, he would've chuckled and called it a beautifully clean strike.

But for some reason...

Even as he executed what he felt was a perfect thrust, Cheon Su-ryong couldn't shake this unease.

‘Why isn’t he moving yet?’

Like all Demonic Arts, the move he'd unleashed was a killing blow.

As the spearhead flew toward his heart, the Eighth Young Master just stared at it with that bored expression.

And the moment Cheon Su-ryong's spear reached Il-mok's chest—

"?!"

Before he knew it, the Eighth Young Master's hand had grabbed his spear shaft.

But his surprise lasted only an instant.

This was exactly the situation spear fighters had to be most careful about, having their weapon grabbed.

Thanks to his strict father, he'd drilled countermeasures for this scenario into his bones.

‘What the hell?’

He tried every technique he knew to push away or strike the hand gripping his spear, but...

Step.

Step.

The more he struggled, the closer the Eighth Young Master came, one step at a time, still holding his spear shaft with just one hand.

Every time Cheon Su-ryong tried to move his spear in desperation, the Eighth Young Master's grip moved in some mysterious way that completely neutralized his strength.

The gap between them continued to close as if he were sinking into a swamp, as if some special power flowed in the spear that connected them.

By the time Il-mok had gotten close enough to reach him, Cheon Su-ryong looked like he'd seen a ghost.

But the disciples of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult were made of different stuff.

"Hyah!"

Even with his face pale as a sheet, he swung his leg up to try and smash the Eighth Young Master's head.

But before Cheon Su-ryong's leg could even reach its full height—

"Urgh..."

Cheon Su-ryong collapsed to the ground with a pain that felt like his internal organs were being torn apart.

As his internal energy scattered and he lay there looking up, he saw the Eighth Young Master pulling back from a palm strike.

Cheon Su-ryong realized instantly. Though he hadn’t been able to follow it with his eyes, that palm had definitely hit his abdomen.

‘You mean he anticipated that I would swing a roundhouse kick…?’

He felt as if he had seen a ghost.

Not only had he failed to even see the final move, the mysterious grappling technique from before was completely beyond his understanding.

While Cheon Su-ryong was on his knees, mentally reviewing the duel with Il-mok by himself, Il-mok's flat voice broke the silence that had fallen over the area.

"Done. Right?"

Only then did the instructor snap out of it and call an end to the match, followed by Hall Master Yeom Ga-hwi's voice.

"Disciple Il-mok."

"Yes, Hall Master."

"Why didn't you use your sword?"

Everyone seemed to have the same question as they all watched Il-mok intently with their mouths shut.

Il-mok's reason for not using his sword was the same as when he'd fought the bandits.

To avoid gaining enlightenment.

No matter how much weaker his opponent was, this damn Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword and his annoyingly talented body would always manage to find some new insight on their own.

It was a pain in the ass, and to avoid situations like this, Il-mok had originally planned to surrender as soon as the match began.

The problem was...

‘No matter what, I can't end up being branded like Baek Cheon.’

Jeong Hyeon's subtle comment about him being of the same type as Baek Cheon had bothered him, so he'd had no choice but to actually fight.

Thank goodness.

Just like with the bandits, this opponent wasn't even worth drawing his sword for.

Plus, that previous incident had given him a perfect excuse.

"Because he wasn't worth drawing my sword for."

"!!"

Reactions to Il-mok's arrogant answer split dramatically.

Some frowned at his arrogance, while others nodded as if thinking, "Well, if it's the Eighth Young Master, that makes sense."

Surprisingly, Hall Master Yeom Ga-hwi was in the former group.

Nodding once, Yeom Ga-hwi stroked his beard and asked, "Then let me ask you something else. When did you train so extensively in grappling and palm techniques?"

This was what Hall Master Yeom Ga-hwi had really wanted to ask from the beginning.

His techniques were too refined for him to be called a swordsman. He was at a level surpassing even his peers who had trained in grappling as their primary martial art.

This definitely wasn't something you could achieve with just a day or two of training.

But the answer that came back was unexpected.

"I've never trained them separately."

"You've never trained them separately?"

When Yeom Ga-hwi kept asking, Il-mok looked confused, like he didn't understand why this was even a question.

"That's right. It is said that all paths lead to one, so I just applied the insights from my swordmanship through my hands."

His tone suggested this was the most obvious thing in the world.

This time, everyone around had the same expression.

They were all staring at Il-mok like he was some kind of monster.

In the midst of all that shock and awe, Il-mok looked uncomfortable.

Not because he couldn't understand why they were looking at him like a freak.

Not because having everyone stare at him made him feel like he'd become the same kind of guy as Baek Cheon.

It was just...

"...So when exactly are you planning to treat this guy?"

He was worried about Cheon Su-ryong, who was still collapsed and coughing up blood.

***

About two hours after the sparring matches ended.

"Ugh..."

Cheon Su-ryong opened his eyes with a deep groan and found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.

"You're awake?"

The voice that greeted him was equally unfamiliar.

"This is the Hall of the Demonic Way's infirmary. You collapsed during your match with Young Master Il-mok."

"Ah..."

Only then did Cheon Su-ryong remember what had happened right before he'd passed out.

‘What a damn idiot I am...’

He wasn't angry at the Eighth Young Master for toying with him. Cheon Su-ryong was furious at his own incompetence for missing a chance to learn and passing out instead.

"Young Master Il-mok asked me to tell you he's sorry. He said he didn't mean to cause such serious internal injuries."

At Physician Seo Jae-pil's words, Cheon Su-ryong quickly snapped to attention and replied.

"It was a fair match. It's only my fault for being weak. How could this be the Eighth Young Master's fault?"

Seo Jae-pil's eyes lit up with interest at Cheon Su-ryong's response.

"Hmm. You're partly right about that. While treating you, I noticed that your injuries seemed less like damage from Young Master Il-mok's attack and more like symptoms of Qi Deviation."

"As I thought..."

At the sound of Cheon Su-ryong’s quiet muttering, Seo Jae-pil’s eyes gleamed.

"From your reaction, it seems you were already aware of this."

"I had some idea."

"Could you tell me more about it?"

Physician Seo Jae-pil had somehow already grabbed a thin brush and paper.

Cheon Su-ryong didn't seem to care about what Seo Jae-pil was doing. He stared into space with a complicated expression and began to speak.

"Actually, ever since the match ended, I've been obsessing over the same thing."

“Could you tell me what that thought was?”

"I kept replaying the techniques the Eighth Young Master used in our match. I was trying to analyze the fight. But... no matter how much I went over it, I just couldn't understand it. Those mysterious techniques of his. Then at some point, my mind suddenly started getting cloudy."

"So you're saying you fell into a Heart Demon while trying to understand Young Master Il-mok's techniques?"

"...Yes."

Cheon Su-ryong spoke with a bitter expression.

"It was the moment I truly realized what an incompetent fool I am. I heard the Eighth Young Master was a swordsman, but I couldn't understand even his grappling techniques, let alone his swordsmanship."

Instead of offering empty consolation, Seo Jae-pil nodded with a listening attitude.

It was a counseling approach he'd developed from treating countless patients, starting from his time as a physician at the Pure Mind Hall.

And being a skilled mad scientist, despite his attentive exterior, he was thinking something else entirely.

‘Fortunately, he seems not to have heard what Young Master Il-mok said.’

Cheon Su-ryong had been brought to the infirmary right after the matches ended. Seo Jae-pil had questioned Il-mok and others about what had happened during the match for accurate treatment and diagnosis.

That's how Seo Jae-pil knew about Il-mok's arrogant comment.

—Because he wasn't worth drawing my sword for.

If this young man, who was already this depressed from failing to understand just one of Young Master Il-mok's grappling techniques, had also heard that comment, he probably would've bled from all seven orifices and died on the spot instead of just coughing up blood from Qi Deviation.

‘He must have already fallen into the Heart Demon before that comment, or he was too focused on analyzing the match to hear it.’

Like the skilled physician he was, Seo Jae-pil was careful not to write down his thoughts on paper.

It would be troublesome if he were writing in front of the patient and the patient happened to see it.

He just filed it away in his mind to record it later after this young patient had left.

While thinking this, Seo Jae-pil skillfully changed the subject.

If he let the patient keep digging himself into a hole, he might fall into another Heart Demon.

Seo Jae-pil poured some pre-prepared hot water into a teacup and offered it to Cheon Su-ryong.

"It's tea that helps calm the mind, but it's still hot, so drink carefully."

Cheon Su-ryong took the cup and sipped it slowly.

While Cheon Su-ryong was momentarily distracted from his gloomy thoughts by focusing on carefully drinking the hot tea, Physician Seo Jae-pil spoke calmly.

"Don't worry too much about the Qi Deviation. While you did fall into a HeartDdemon from analyzing the match, you were injured at the time. You might have been more susceptible to the Heart Demon because of your internal injuries, don't you think?"

He said this in a matter-of-fact tone.

People with strong pride don't welcome pity from others. Sometimes a 'physician's diagnosis' was more comforting than words of consolation.

"...I suppose that's one way to look at it."

Seeing that his patient had somewhat accepted his words, Seo Jae-pil continued.

"Likewise, you might have had trouble understanding Young Master Il-mok's martial arts because your head was dizzy from the internal injuries. There will be plenty of opportunities anyway, so couldn't you observe Young Master Il-mok's martial arts again later?"

"Would someone like me, who practices different techniques and different classes, really have another chance to observe the Eighth Young Master's martial arts?"

"Haha. You might not receive the same training because you're in a different year, but there are ways to spend time together. What about clubs?"

"Ah!!"

When Cheon Su-ryong exclaimed with hopeful eyes, Seo Jae-pil smiled and said, "The club Young Master Il-mok joined is called the Meditation Club."

Cheon Su-ryong kept muttering "Meditation Club, Meditation Club" like those characters were a lifeline.

After watching this for a moment, Seo Jae-pil figured the patient's condition had improved enough and got to the main point.

The reason Seo Jae-pil had boldly sold out Young Master Il-mok.

"Hmm. Come to think of it, there's something I couldn't ask while treating you. Could you tell me about the Demonic Art you practice and its side effects?"

It was time to expand his research subjects.