Chapter 420: The Fiery Demon
Tang Mujin took his time to gather his thoughts about Gwang Yeom-ra.
After speaking with the monks from the Ami and Cheongseong sects, it seemed clear that Gwang Yeom-ra had indeed attempted to kill the Great Protector. During the chaotic battle, the Great Protector’s shout had thrown the demonic warriors into disarray. It was evident that Gwang Yeom-ra had severed ties with the demonic cult.
Bringing Gwang Yeom-ra over to their side would undoubtedly be a significant advantage.
It wasn’t just about eliminating a top-tier martial artist from the demonic cult; it was about adding one to the righteous sects.
Moreover, as a high-ranking figure in the demonic cult, Gwang Yeom-ra likely possessed valuable information.
However, there was one enormous problem.
Gwang Yeom-ra had made many enemies during the last Great War between the righteous and the demonic sects.
While other sects might be manageable, the issue with the Shaolin Temple was beyond Tang Mujin’s control. Gwang Yeom-ra had ambushed and killed a revered monk.
Even decades later, the monk’s killer, Sam An-bul, had not been forgiven.
It seemed unlikely that Sam An-bul would ever be forgiven. The most the Shaolin Temple would do, out of respect for Tang Mujin, was to tolerate Sam An-bul’s presence.
Could the righteous martial world ever accept Gwang Yeom-ra, who had killed a revered monk?
The conclusion was painfully simple.
“Impossible.”
Gwang Yeom-ra and the Shaolin Temple were like oil and water.
Even if, by some miracle, Gwang Yeom-ra were accepted by the righteous martial world, it would come at the cost of losing the Shaolin Temple.
The righteous martial artists would never turn their backs on the Shaolin Temple just to accept Gwang Yeom-ra, making his acceptance virtually impossible.
The next day, Tang Mujin returned to the alley where he had met Gwang Yeom-ra. As expected, Gwang Yeom-ra was waiting for him there.
A thought suddenly crossed Tang Mujin’s mind.
“Maybe I could string him along with some hope and use him a bit more…”
But he quickly dismissed the idea.
If their relationship had been purely antagonistic, he might have considered it, but treating Gwang Yeom-ra that way felt wrong.
Besides, Gwang Yeom-ra wasn’t a fool. He might be deceived for a while, but it wouldn’t be long before he caught on.
In the end, Tang Mujin decided to be honest with Gwang Yeom-ra.
”…That’s how it is.”
Gwang Yeom-ra nodded silently, his expression somber, without offering a response.
“Gwang Yeom-ra. Given the situation, you should leave for the outer regions. Escape to a place where the demonic cult can’t find you. Someone like you won’t starve, no matter where you go.”
It was the best solution Tang Mujin could think of. However, Gwang Yeom-ra couldn’t easily accept the suggestion and buried his head in his hands.
Time passed.
Gwang Yeom-ra took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and looked up at Tang Mujin.
He looked like someone who had just surfaced after a long dive.
And his eyes held the resolve of someone who had reached a decision.
“Master Tang.”
“Speak.”
“I don’t care if I’m not accepted by the righteous martial world. I don’t care if I can’t save my own life. But I want to repay a blood debt.”
”…Why?”
“I’ll have to start from a long time ago. Please don’t tell anyone else.”
As Gwang Yeom-ra began to speak, Tang Mujin interrupted him.
“No. Just don’t tell me.”
”…Why?”
“In my experience, stories that start like that usually lead to a lot of trouble.”
“I’m not asking you to take responsibility. You can refuse my request after hearing me out. Just don’t share it with others. It might benefit you, but it won’t harm you.”
Tang Mujin thought for a moment and then nodded. Well, if that’s the case.
Besides, he was curious about what Gwang Yeom-ra had to say.
Gwang Yeom-ra began his story, his eyes half-closed.
“Among those in the demonic cult, only one person knew my real name—the former cult leader. Now that he’s dead, no one knows my name.”
“Don’t tell me you’re the former cult leader’s son?”
“No, nothing like that. Let me introduce myself first. I was born in Longzhong, Hubei, and my name is Jegal Yeomun. I lived there for over a decade before joining the demonic cult.”
Jegal Yeomun. The name was ordinary, but the surname was quite unusual.
Even Tang Mujin, who had a wide network, had never met anyone with the surname Jegal.
“You joined at a young age. What crime did you commit?”
Gwang Yeom-ra shook his head.
“I didn’t join the demonic cult because of a crime. Although I’ve committed many sins since joining, that’s not why I went there…”
“You joined without committing a crime? Why?”
“The Jegal family has many issues. In fact, no one even calls it a family. It’s not organized enough to be called a clan. At best, it’s a small community in Longzhong. Even generously speaking, it’s just a village.”
Gwang Yeom-ra closed his eyes as he spoke. His slender frame seemed at odds with the large sword he had set aside.
He appeared vulnerable, perhaps because he trusted Tang Mujin, or maybe because he had let something go.
“The Jegal clan is small, poor, and uneducated. Even if someone secretly learns to read, they can’t show it. If caught, their wrists are broken. There was once a family martial art, but it’s long lost. If caught practicing martial arts, their dantian is destroyed. With such circumstances, they can’t even hold minor official positions.”
“Broken wrists and destroyed dantians? Why?”
“Because of the Sima family.”
Gwang Yeom-ra paused, and a myriad of emotions echoed in the silence.
Tang Mujin thought to himself. The Sima family seemed to pop up whenever they were almost forgotten.
At the same time, with just the mention of the Sima family and Jegal Yeomun, Tang Mujin could guess the relationship between the two families. He was skeptical, though, about whether it was really for such a reason.
“The Sima family warriors would often visit Longzhong to check on the Jegal clan. They are the reason we can’t learn to read or practice martial arts.”
“Did the Jegal clan commit some grave offense against the Sima family?”
Tang Mujin hoped his guess was wrong, but Gwang Yeom-ra shook his head.
“Offense? No. It’s because of an old grudge between ancestors. A grudge between ancestors whose faces we don’t even know. A grudge between ancestors whose names we’ve only heard. Using that as an excuse, the Sima family has tormented the Jegal clan for hundreds of years.”
”…Hundreds of years.”
“Yes. It would have been better if they had just killed us, but the Sima family didn’t. They blocked every path to advancement, taking pleasure in watching us live like insects. My father’s father, my grandfather’s grandfather, and long before that…”
Gwang Yeom-ra paused, overwhelmed by emotion, before continuing.
“I didn’t want to live like that. But if I left the village on my own, the villagers would suffer. So my parents decided to make a grave for me. They said they’d tell the Sima family I died of a plague. I don’t know if the Sima family believed it. That was when I was eighteen.”
Tang Mujin nodded slightly, and Gwang Yeom-ra continued his tale.
“I endured two years of hardship to reach the demonic cult. And there, I found a new life. I learned martial arts and, belatedly, how to read. After living there for quite some time, the cult leader—no, he was the Great Protector back then—asked me if I would follow him.”
“And you agreed.”
“Yes. Betraying the former cult leader who took me in would have been unthinkable. But my hatred for the Sima family was even greater. The idea of crushing the righteous martial world sounded so sweet. I thought I might be able to trample the Sima family.”
Gwang Yeom-ra finished speaking and looked at Tang Mujin.
His eyes were filled with a complex mix of emotions.
“And recently, I heard some astonishing news. The Sima family has been practically wiped out. I even heard a rough account of how it happened.”
Gwang Yeom-ra stood up and bowed silently to Tang Mujin.
It was a gesture of gratitude to the benefactor who had avenged the Jegal clan’s grievances.
Once bowed, Gwang Yeom-ra remained in that position for a long time.
Tang Mujin reflected on his relationship with Gwang Yeom-ra.
Their enmity had been quite long. Initially, they had only sought opportunities to kill each other, but at some point, Gwang Yeom-ra’s attitude toward Tang Mujin began to change.
Tang Mujin thought it was because he and Hyun Gong had cleverly deceived Gwang Yeom-ra. Or perhaps their interests had aligned.
That was largely true. But even considering those circumstances, Gwang Yeom-ra’s attitude toward Tang Mujin had become surprisingly friendly.
It seemed to have changed around the time they were entangled at Mount Kunlun.
Gwang Yeom-ra had secretly informed Tang Mujin about the internal situation of the demonic cult and had even stopped the demonic warriors from attacking the Tang family, despite being suspected by his subordinates. In the end, he had even attempted to ambush the Great Protector.
Although the ambush had failed, even if it had succeeded, could Gwang Yeom-ra have led the demonic warriors without resistance?
No. The moment he raised his sword against the Great Protector, Gwang Yeom-ra had crossed a point of no return.
Tang Mujin had thought Gwang Yeom-ra was a fool, caught between the demonic cult and the righteous sects. But that was a strange thing to think.
Gwang Yeom-ra had always said that the Great War between the righteous and the demonic sects would almost certainly end in the demonic cult’s victory.
Despite his words, Gwangyeomra hesitated to sever ties with the Jeongpa faction, or more precisely, with Dang Mujin. He knew the risks far outweighed the benefits, yet he couldn’t bring himself to cut the connection.
If Gwangyeomra hadn’t harbored any goodwill towards Dang Mujin, he wouldn’t have found himself in this predicament.
But Gwangyeomra never voiced such thoughts. He didn’t want to burden Dang Mujin with any sense of obligation.
Instead, he spoke from his prostrate position.
“I apologize for not expressing my gratitude sooner. I regret not making a decisive choice because I couldn’t completely abandon my personal ambitions. It might be too late now, but I want to apologize for everything.”
Dang Mujin let out a deep sigh.
Knowing Gwangyeomra’s past didn’t solve the problem.
“So, what do you want from me? I might pity you, but I can’t convince others to accept you. Debts of gratitude or resentment aren’t something others can erase for you.”
Gwangyeomra, still on his knees, propped himself up slightly with his arms.
“I know it’s late. But I want to repay my blood debt, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Do you really think that’s possible?”
Dang Mujin found Gwangyeomra’s intentions unrealistic, despite the pitiful circumstances.
A blood debt is called such because it’s too heavy to repay with money and impossible to erase.
Creating resentment is easy, but erasing it can take a lifetime.
“I’m not saying I want to live honorably after repaying my debt. I’m willing to give my life to settle it. If I die without repaying it, let me be forgotten as a fool who betrayed the cult and was used.”
“For what purpose?”
“If I manage to repay my debt and there’s anything left, let the merit be known to the people of Yungjung.”
Offering his life to repay a debt was a story often spun by con artists, yet Gwangyeomra’s words didn’t sound deceitful.
“The people of Yungjung are in dire straits, but they’re inherently good and exceptionally clever. There are few as twisted as me. I may have learned to read late, but if the people of Yungjung study from a young age, they can achieve great things. If the Jegal family rises, it will benefit the righteous martial world.”
As he spoke, Gwangyeomra forcefully struck his forehead against the ground. Thud.
It wasn’t just once. He repeated the action several times. Thud, thud, thud—
His forehead split, blood flowing freely. The concern wasn’t just the bleeding; it was whether he might crack his skull.
But Gwangyeomra knew this was his last chance, so he didn’t stop.
Finally, with a face stained red with blood, Gwangyeomra looked up at Dang Mujin.
“Give me the chance to repay my debt by taking on the most dangerous tasks in the harshest places. Give the Jegal family of Yungjung a chance to rise.”
Dang Mujin pondered for a long time before letting out a deep sigh.
“I’ll tell them I managed to persuade a fool from the cult. But that’s all I can do. Whether you get beaten to death by the monks of Shaolin or used and discarded, I won’t interfere.”
With that, Dang Mujin stood up.
“Do your best.”
He left, and Gwangyeomra remained prostrate until Dang Mujin was out of sight.
Three days later, Hyeolwook, the Blood Rain Guest, came to see Dang Mujin.
Just like their first meeting, his face was hidden by a bamboo hat, and he wore martial attire he hadn’t donned in a long time.
It was a familiar sight, yet strangely unfamiliar.
Anyone who knew the face behind the mask would feel the same.
Hyeolwook spoke to Dang Mujin.
“I’m leaving.”
“You didn’t come here planning to leave alone, did you? Let’s go together.”
Dang Mujin rose from his seat.
He had already packed his belongings, the cult’s warriors had withdrawn from Sichuan, and the Tang family had sought refuge with the Northern Guard.
There was nothing left to hold him back.
Hong Geolgae naturally approached and stood by Dang Mujin’s side, while Gwangyeomra Jegal Yeomun followed a short distance behind.
Hong Geolgae asked Dang Mujin quietly.
“Why is that guy Gwangyeomra tagging along?”
“It’s complicated.”
Hong Geolgae didn’t press further.
And so, the four of them left Sichuan behind.