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Translator: Vine
Chapter Title: Two More Years
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Silence hung between us for a while.
For one, I didn't know how to answer her question, and for another, I didn't even understand the context.
For now, I decided to exercise my right to remain silent.
"...The Heavenly Demon Cult, no?"
Standing on tiptoes, Luri, who had been more dangling from my collar than grabbing it, slowly lowered her arms.
Her arms must have been hurting.
"Young Miss Luri. I didn't come here as an escort from the Heavenly Demon Cult in the first place, did I?"
I bit back the harsh words, "You're a Young Cult Master, but you don't even know your subordinates' faces?" Wouldn't want to warp the kid.
Still, she seemed to understand my words.
Luri's sharp gaze softened slightly.
"But, how?"
Still, simple questions thrown out without context.
"Perhaps she has a disease that kills her if she forms a complete sentence?"
Oops.
My true thoughts had slipped out inadvertently.
Luri, hearing my words, puffed out her cheeks slightly.
Thud!
"Cough—"
She struck my abdomen with a fist no bigger than a bean.
How much practical, compressed muscle could be hidden in those slender arms?
A rather immense pain surged through me.
"...Sorry."
The school violence perpetrator threw out an apology a beat too late.
"Ughh…"
Clutching my stomach and bending over, my eye level finally became equal with Luri's.
Even after apologizing, Luri wore a satisfied smile, about a millimeter wide, at the corner of her lips.
To look down on someone and wear such a mischievous, no, arrogant smile.
Even if she's tiny, she's still the Young Cult Master, I suppose.
"That. Blood Wolf Sword Art."
Despite my jab, her words were still short.
Nothing I could do about it.
I'd just have to elaborate a bit more myself.
"You're saying the sword art I just used in the Mind Duel was the Heavenly Demon Cult's Blood Wolf Sword Art?"
Nod, nod.
Is this for real?
No wonder it reeked of a human butcher who'd probably cut down thousands.
I vowed to log into Mind Duel later and delete that friend without anyone knowing.
Not only was I consorting with the Heavenly Demon Cult's Young Cult Master, but I was also an emerging talent of the Orthodox Faction who learned and wielded a Demonic Cult sword art?
Anyone would think I was a spy.
I didn't want to experience eating mala tang through my nose while trapped in the Murim Alliance's dungeon.
"That… I really just stumbled upon it. Is it a sword art that others can easily recognize?"
I asked, a hint of unease in my voice.
Fortunately, Luri shook her head.
Just as I thought, "Still, I shouldn't use it in front of others for a while," came the next question.
"Demon Sword. You don't know?"
The two words that flowed from Luri's lips made my brain stop spinning for a moment.
Demon Sword.
Demon Sword, she said…?
For the first time in a while, I pulled out my past knowledge.
If you take the Orthodox Faction route, you inevitably clash with the Demonic Cult, regardless of your relationship with Luri.
Of course, the final boss is the Heavenly Demon.
At that point, it's late game, so if you've grown and farmed enough, the combat difficulty isn't too hard.
Rather, the stage before that—
The bloody battle with the Demon Sword was practically a "Wall of Tears" level of difficulty.
You'd need to reach at least the 'Flower Realm' by spring of third year just to stand a chance.
…I was acutely aware of the gap between game and reality.
In two years, I'd barely scraped by to the First-Rate level.
And in the remaining two years, I needed to reach Peak, then Beyond Peak, then even Flower Realm?
Is that even possible?
Well, anyway.
Defeat doesn't immediately lead to a game over.
Orthodox Faction trait:
Ganging up on a great demon is considered fair play.
If the 'protagonist' loses, all the Orthodox Faction members he's befriended immediately cast a net (pierced seven times) to capture the Demon Sword.
However, the true ending—
The 'Greatest Under Heaven' ending is ruined at that moment.
"Demon Sword, you know him?"
Luri, having read the discomfort on my face, threw out the question.
If I were to say here,
'Wow! Demon Sword! You know "Raising a Murim Master"! The Demon Sword is the mid-boss of the Orthodox Faction ending route in "Murim Master," and he's incredibly difficult! He dodges all attacks and—'
Of course, there was no way I could act like I knew all that.
"No. His title alone sounds a bit terrifying…"
I could only deny it for now.
Luri's eyes narrowed slightly, turning a bit petulant.
"You know, right?"
"I don't."
"You know, right?"
"I said I don't!"
This little kid.
She had a surprisingly persistent side.
To break through my perfect poker face and interrogate me like this?
Just as we were locked in a sharp staring contest for a while.
"Ah."
A familiar aura, from the Heavenly Soul Returning Art, was detected.
This tiny, insignificant sensation.
It was Daram.
Then Master and Young Miss would arrive soon too.
This scene, depending on how it's interpreted—
Could make me look like a pedophilic lecher enjoying a secret rendezvous with the Demonic Cult's Young Cult Master.
"Oh dear. Let's talk again later."
Strategic retreat, here!
I swiftly leaped over the wall, in the exact opposite direction from where Daram was scurrying over.
"Ah…"
Luri briefly wore a surprised expression and reached out a hand, but—
A tiny thing like her couldn't grab my clothes.
Do you feel the difference in our heights?
***
As I retrieved Wolfie, who was purring contentedly in Master Chicken's arms, being pampered silly.
"Ma… Master. Do you happen to know anything about the Demon Sword?"
Oops.
Almost made a slip of the tongue.
"Ma? Hmm. The Demon Sword, you say. From the Demonic Cult?"
Thankfully, Master Chicken only raised a slight eyebrow, not having read my true intentions.
I need to reframe my thoughts for a moment here.
Master is Master, Master is Master…
"Yes. Because he's not on Murim Wiki."
"Experience… no, if you consider his generation, he's a former master, so of course. And truly sensitive information isn't listed on Murim Wiki. The personal information of Demonic Cult masters is also like that."
"Why is that?"
Master looked at me with a slightly pathetic gaze.
"If you were a great demon of the Demonic Cult or the Evil Faction, and your deeds or atrocities were recorded on a wiki, what would you do?"
"Hmm… I'd find the author and kill them, I suppose?"
"...Are you really from the Orthodox Faction?"
But it's the correct answer, isn't it?
To guide me to derive the conclusion myself through a simple Q&A.
As expected, my Master truly has a talent for teaching people.
And, as expected of an old geezer, he knew a lot.
"The Demon Sword. Wei Jiliang. He was a figure known as the 'God of Death' among Orthodox Faction martial artists during the previous Orthodox-Demonic War. So he's famous among the previous generation of masters, but, well, I'm not sure if he's even alive now."
He seems to be alive.
"But Master, you don't seem to be among that previous generation of masters?"
"Hmph. I'm young, you know? Back during the Orthodox-Demonic War, I was just a young sprout running around in the mountains."
"Hmmmm…"
So that means it was at least thirty years ago.
Well. It doesn't matter.
Anyway, the earliest I'd meet the Demon Sword would be in my third year—
That's more than two years away.
I can think about it then.
While I was at it, I logged into Mind Duel and completed the un-friending.
"Oh, right. Speaking of which, I saw something about Master on Murim Wiki once. That 'I'll marry whoever defeats me' thing—"
Whoosh!
An axe, drawn at a speed my eyes couldn't follow, whizzed past my head.
"You saw it…?"
"EEK…!"
Master Chicken instantly transformed into a fiend-like, rakshasa-like figure.
Feeling living death creep over me, I hastily picked up Wolfie, rubbed him against my face, and fled the library.
"Woof-woof…!"
Wolfie growled in protest about being used as a hostage, but—
I quelled his complaints by lightly blowing a raspberry on his belly.
After escaping.
I checked my timetable while wandering the streets.
Only one class left, it seems.
Herbology and Toxicology.
…Since I already knew all of it, I felt a tiny urge to drop the class right then and there.
But just in case I could find a clue about the Geum Sihyeon poisoning incident.
Even if not, one class wouldn't hurt as an easy credit.
I suppressed my annoyance and moved my feet.
"Woof!"
At Wolfie's bark, I suddenly followed his gaze and looked up at the sky.
"Oh."
A single bird was leisurely soaring across the vast sky.
Birds have it good.
Having wings.
I miss fast travel systems…
Why wasn't that implemented….
***
"...Geum Sihyeon."
Immediately after checking the student roster, Dang Mok muttered those three cursed characters.
Normally, he should have been swaggering with authority in the Murim Alliance or a prestigious clan, instead of being stuck among these snot-nosed brats at Baekhwa Academy.
Indeed, he had been on a smooth path.
Aside from his slightly inferior martial arts, he was the most promising candidate for clan head.
However.
Two years ago.
Everything went awry.
He had clearly, with the utmost caution and care, secretly administered one of his finest poisons—Soul-Severing Poison—to the third son of the Mangum Merchant Guild.
Not only should his meridians have twisted, but the poison should have surged to his upper dantian, killing him outright.
But then.
"How, how can he be walking around perfectly fine…?"
A deep question, unheard by anyone, hung in the air.
Even now, he couldn't understand.
Even a divine doctor of life and death wouldn't have been able to detoxify that poison within a short timeframe.
Even if his life was miraculously saved, his internal energy should have dissipated, leaving him unable to practice martial arts ever again.
But how could he be so perfectly normal?
He even took first place in the entrance examination?
Furthermore.
He thought he hadn't left a single piece of evidence that could trace back to him.
To think he would brazenly enroll in a class that was merely established for show.
Surely, he hadn't been found out, but—
He felt an unnecessary chill run down his spine.
"No, no."
Dang Mok muttered to himself again, calmly organizing his thoughts.
This.
This could be an opportunity to achieve the goal of that meeting, even now, which he couldn't accomplish back then.
He couldn't openly commit poisoning within the academy, but—
Couldn't he 'accidentally' consume a poisonous herb, or 'accidentally' confuse herbs with poisonous ones, or 'accidentally' become poisoned and turn into a cripple?
Or if there was an opportunity to leave the academy, such as for midterms or a school trip, he could seize that moment.
Yes.
The Mangum Merchant Guild are ultimately people who must disappear.
Along with those traitors of the Murim, the Zhuge Clan.
Dang Mok picked up a brush and scrawled a secret code onto a piece of paper.
Then he went outside and tied it to the leg of a thousand-mile carrier pigeon.
…Moving unilaterally carried too much risk.
He needed to gather the clan's will—and furthermore, the will of the meeting.
Watching the carrier pigeon soar into the sky and carve a trajectory as it flew, Dang Mok suddenly, out of habit, drew the dagger hanging at his waist and examined it.
Its blade was dulled.