Episode 59: Return to the Demonic Sect

Sabikang looked at Dang Ihyeop with a hint of surprise.

“Oh? Do you actually believe it?”

“It’s hard to believe, but even harder to doubt,” Dang Ihyeop replied with a stern expression.

He was being honest. The story was so outlandish, it seemed like something a grandmother might tell to lull a child to sleep. Yet, dismissing it as pure fabrication would require a level of creativity that bordered on genius. Besides, if he didn’t believe Sabikang, how could he explain the cure for his illness and the rare poisons he had received for research? These poisons were unlike anything that could be concocted in this world.

If he pretended to believe Sabikang, all these mysteries would be resolved, no matter how absurd the story seemed.

“Should I laugh or cry?” Dang Ihyeop sighed deeply, his expression complicated.

It had been nearly five years since he left his family. His father, Tang Wontian, the head of the family at the time, had wept as he tried to hold him back. But the infection had spread too far, and his condition was so severe that he had to be wrapped in white cloth to hide it. He couldn’t risk bringing disgrace to his family. Rumors, faster and more terrifying than any feet, would have spread that the heir of the Tang family had leprosy, and the family’s reputation would have plummeted overnight.

So, leaving his family’s tears behind, he departed with his followers, thinking himself as good as dead, wandering like a ghost until he settled in Jigi. Life felt meaningless, and he thought his bitter existence would end that way. But then, out of nowhere, a hand of salvation reached out to him.

Sabikang was like a divine intervention. Serving him as his lord brought no complaints. The life he had regained was one he would willingly lay down for Sabikang without hesitation. Moreover, Sabikang’s martial prowess was nothing short of astonishing, making him a master worthy of following.

So, if his lord claimed he could make soybeans into meju, he would believe it. Yet…

“The more I think about it, the more absurd it seems,” he thought, as Sabikang chuckled, seemingly reading his mind.

“I’m not forcing you to believe. In time, you’ll see for yourself.”

“No, my lord, I trust you. It’s just that my limited knowledge struggles to grasp it all. But slowly, very slowly, my heart is beginning to accept it.”

Sabikang smiled faintly at Dang Ihyeop’s response. He had chosen well. Dang Ihyeop was indeed the right person, someone who could entrust his very soul with a single act of trust. There were many skilled warriors he could have allied with, but few with such noble character.

Sabikang grinned. “Ten years. We have ten years left.”

“Ten years?”

“There will be signs before then, but their full-scale invasion will be in ten years.”

Dang Ihyeop exhaled a breath of relief. There was more time than he had feared. Yet, he found it amusing that he was already so invested in a story he had only just heard.

But he believed in Sabikang, the one who had pulled him from the depths of despair.

Sabikang looked at him intently. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“My apologies.”

“Considering the current state of the martial world, ten years is not a long time.”

“Is it that dire?”

“But it’s also enough time. We have much to do.”

“Shouldn’t we inform everyone?”

Sabikang laughed. “You’re thinking too simply.”

Dang Ihyeop realized his mistake. Who would believe such a tale? They’d likely dismiss it as the ravings of a madman trying to establish his own sect with dark arts. Building trust is like constructing a tower, but a careless word can topple it in an instant. The martial world is a place where even at the peak, one wrong move can lead to a swift downfall.

Sabikang turned and began to walk away. “When the time is right. But not yet. We must wait and prepare quietly.”

“I understand.”

Dang Ihyeop watched Sabikang’s retreating figure with a determined expression.

**

In the serene garden of Taesajeon, Eun Giryong sat by the pond, fishing rod in hand. The gentle breeze played with his white hair.

“Spring is in full bloom,” he remarked softly.

Joo Yucheon, standing nearby, nodded. “I wonder if it’ll get hot soon.”

“Time always slips away just as you’re about to welcome it,” Eun Giryong mused.

“But it seems you’ve managed to hold onto time itself, Master.”

“Haha, even you have your moments of flattery, Joo.”

Joo Yucheon merely smiled. It wasn’t entirely flattery. Whenever he approached Eun Giryong, he could sense the depth of his inner strength, and it never failed to impress him.

Eun Giryong, gazing at the water, spoke again. “They should be returning soon.”

“Probably by tomorrow.”

“Yes, I heard they left Songbaek not long ago. They should be arriving soon.”

They were talking about the special task force led by Sabikang. Three months had passed in the blink of an eye.

“I heard Instructor Sang Pilji is taking over. Instructor Cheon recommended him, right?”

“Yes, but apparently, Instructor Sang requested it first.”

“Really?” Eun Giryong glanced at Joo Yucheon, surprised.

Joo Yucheon nodded, and Eun Giryong’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting.”

“I was surprised too.”

“I hear the instructors are pleased. There must be a reason.”

Joo Yucheon paused before answering honestly. “There’s still some reluctance among the instructors to accept Instructor Sabikang. They see Instructor Sang as a counterbalance.”

“Haha, how amusing.”

“It’s inevitable. It’s a challenge Instructor Sabikang must overcome.”

“I agree,” Eun Giryong nodded slowly. People’s preferences aren’t something even a master or dean can control.

“How’s the Spring Festival coming along?”

“Proceeding smoothly.”

“Good. Ensure it goes off without a hitch.”

“I’ll do my best.”

With their conversation concluded, Joo Yucheon bowed and left. Eun Giryong preferred not to engage in long discussions by the pond, claiming it startled the fish, though it was more likely he needed time for deep contemplation.

Yet, even after Joo Yucheon left, the tranquility of the pond didn’t last long.

“Are you sure about this?” A voice as clear as rolling jade spoke.

It was Yeoyoung, Eun Giryong’s guardian.

“It’s a challenge he must face,” Eun Giryong replied calmly.

“But Sang Pilji is nearly a supreme master. Even for Instructor Sabikang, he’s not an easy opponent.”

Eun Giryong knew this well. Sang Pilji was among the top hundred martial artists, capable of establishing his own sect if he wished.

“But he hasn’t purified the stagnant waters,” Eun Giryong noted.

Sang Pilji pursued strength alone, indifferent to the decay of Yongcheon Hall’s roots. He cared only for his own achievements.

“Will you just watch?” Yeoyoung asked, concern in her voice.

“I can’t intervene directly. But I can offer advice. First, I want to see his skills.”

“I’ll summon him as soon as he arrives,” Yeoyoung’s voice lightened.

Eun Giryong smiled faintly and nodded. “It seems even you have taken a liking to him.”

**

It had been a long journey. Three months of martial training. As they finally entered the mountain path leading to Yongcheon Hall, the students were filled with emotion.

“We’re finally back!” someone shouted.

“Yongcheon Hall!”

“I never thought I’d miss this place so much!”

“Give it a week, and you’ll want to leave again,” another joked.

The students chattered excitedly. The hardships had made the time seem long, but in hindsight, it felt like a fleeting moment.

“It feels like we left just yesterday,” Dan Lijeong thought, looking at the trees around him, lost in reflection.

Comparing himself now to three months ago, he felt like a completely different person.

“The bow…” he mused, gazing at the arrow in his left hand.

It had been a journey of great gain. Not just for him, but for many students who had grown significantly during this training expedition.

Such a fruitful journey indeed.

When they first set out, it felt like nothing more than a casual trip.

Could the academy have anticipated such a change in them?

Finally, the entire group, led by the horse-drawn carriage, entered through the main gates of Yongcheon Hall.

A few cadets who had been in the training yard rushed over, buzzing with excitement at the sight of the returning special class.

“Wow, it’s the special class cadets!”

“Looks like they’re back from their training journey.”

“Impressive, isn’t it? Traveling for three whole months.”

“Well, it’s still just a class full of troublemakers. Hehe.”

As the procession came to a halt, Sabigang leapt onto the roof of the carriage.

All the special class cadets looked up at him.

These were the same cadets who had grumbled and dismissed him when they left.

But now, every one of them was focused, hanging on his every word.

“You all worked hard for three months. It was a long journey, so go back to your quarters and get some rest. That’s all.”

His words were brief, almost anticlimactic after such a long journey, but the cadets thought it was just like Sabigang to be so succinct.

Just as Sabigang was about to climb down from the roof, a voice rang out.

“Hahaha! Welcome back!”

Cheon Saemyung greeted him with a broad smile, arms wide open.

Sabigang frowned slightly.

“Have you been well?”

“Thanks to you, I’ve been fine. We’ve heard about your great achievements even while you were away. Truly impressive.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Ah, by the way, we had to appoint a new homeroom teacher for the Nang-a class while you were gone. It was too much for us to handle alone.”

For a moment, Sabigang’s expression twisted slightly.

“But I recommended someone for that position….”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. We haven’t appointed a new head instructor.”

“Then?”

“Senior Instructor Sang Pilji, who hasn’t taken on a homeroom role before, has agreed to look after them. So, you can still recommend someone else as head instructor. They just can’t be the homeroom teacher.”

Sabigang took a moment to assess the situation, then smiled.

“Ah, in that case, it’s fine. It’s actually for the best.”

‘For the best? Even though he can’t be the homeroom teacher?’

Cheon Saemyung smirked inwardly, thinking Sabigang was putting on a brave face.

‘Hmph, you might have to spar with Senior Instructor Sang soon.’

Swallowing his thoughts, Cheon Saemyung spoke up.

“I knew you’d understand. By the way, have you found a martial artist to recommend?”

“Of course. I brought him with me.”

As Sabigang replied, a man wearing a bamboo hat stepped forward.

Cheon Saemyung stifled a laugh.

‘Hah, he probably just brought some nobody he got a kickback from.’

Without showing his thoughts, Cheon Saemyung offered a polite bow.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Cheon Saemyung, head of the first-year instructors.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dang Ihyeop.”

“Ah, pleased to meet you. Wait, Dang Ihyeop… could you be the young master of the Sichuan Dang family…?”

“That’s all in the past. I left the family a long time ago, so you can forget about it.”

Dang Ihyeop lifted his head, offering a faint smile.

Cheon Saemyung’s jaw dropped as he recognized the face.

“My goodness… how is this possible…?”

“I owe it all to my lord’s grace.”

‘My lord…? What on earth is going on here?’

Cheon Saemyung looked back and forth between Dang Ihyeop and Sabigang, bewildered.

“Well, that’s how it is.”

Sabigang said nonchalantly, a sly grin on his face.