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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Resignation Denied
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A solemn hall.
Dozens of disciples were busily engrossed in their brushwork.
And in the deepest interior, Sama Geuk—the scribe and Grand Strategist who made the final review of all the documents they produced—sat at his station.
His processing speed was unparalleled, but the documents piled up even faster than he could handle, filling his desk to the brim.
Sama Geuk, with deep wrinkles like valleys under his eyes, set down his brush for a moment and rubbed his eyelids.
"Sigh... For some reason, I'm especially tired today."
In truth, it wasn't just today.
Lately, his fatigue had noticeably surged.
And the cause was easy to guess.
It started a few days ago, when Deputy Strategist Mo Seol had reported to him privately.
"The Cult Leader has notified his wife of the divorce."
That single statement stopped Sama Geuk's mind cold.
Regaining his senses with effort, he shot a cold glare.
"Don't speak such nonsense."
"It's not nonsense—it's the truth."
"Is it certain?"
"Yes. I stake my neck on it."
The face of Sama Geuk, who had been about to rebuke him, turned ashen.
What utter absurdity was this?
For the Cult Leader, who had become the Heavenly Demon through marriage and the power of his wife's clan, what would remain if he abandoned that clan?
It was far too sudden.
He knew their marital relationship was perfunctory, but he'd heard no rumors of discord.
If something had changed, he might have predicted it, but there had been no warning signs from the Cult Leader at all.
'He must have lost his mind.'
An impulsive choice from the young Cult Leader unable to endure the pressure.
In Sama Geuk's eyes, the consequences of that judgment were already crystal clear.
'A storm of blood will blow soon.'
The impending catastrophe would devour everything in the cult.
Rejecting entanglement in that hell, Sama Geuk made a very simple decision.
Swoosh— swish— swoosh—
He swiftly penned his letter of resignation in one go, folded it neatly, and handed it to Mo Seol.
"Deliver this to the Cult Leader."
If he had even a slight connection with the Cult Leader, he might have advised him on how to preserve his life, but they weren't close enough for such talk.
'It's merely hastening the inevitable.'
Even without this incident, he had planned to resign in a month or two.
Hyeok Mulin.
He had never sat well with him from the start.
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Even if the martial world showed some peaceful trends, becoming the Heavenly Demon through a political marriage—what nonsense was that?
He had no inaction, no talent, no people, no future—nothing.
Better to retire early and return to his home clan than serve under such a Cult Leader.
"Indeed, he must have submitted it with such feelings..."
Four days had already passed, but despite waiting, no reply came.
Sama Geuk glared at the innocent Mo Seol, but he was simply engrossed in his work, with nothing to report.
Staring at him blankly, Sama Geuk soon turned away and picked up his brush again.
"It must have gotten lost somewhere."
The Cult Leader must not have noticed it, buried under the piles of documents to review.
Scribble scribble. Sama Geuk penned another resignation letter, stood, and headed to Mo Seol.
"Deputy Strategist, deliver it once more. This time, place it somewhere conspicuous."
"Pardon? Yes, understood."
With that, Mo Seol took the resignation and left the hall.
However, even after waiting a few more days, no reply came.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Sama Geuk irritably slammed his brush on the desk and twisted his lips.
"Fine, let's see who wins."
He dashed off another resignation in one breath and handed it to Mo Seol again.
Yet still, no reply came.
He sent it again.
No reply.
Sent it.
No reply.
Sent it.
No reply...
"Deputy Strategist. This time, use any means necessary to deliver it directly to the Cult Leader. And get a definite answer right there."
Unable to endure any longer, Sama Geuk grabbed Mo Seol's shoulder and issued a special order.
An hour later, Mo Seol returned with a bright face.
And in his hand was a single letter.
'Finally, a reply!'
Sama Geuk, beaming, welcomed him and immediately unfolded the long-awaited response.
But at that moment, Sama Geuk froze in place, rigid as stone.
[Denied]
It was a curt phrase, but its meaning was simple.
Sama Geuk's hand trembled violently at the unexpected rejection of his resignation.
"...This won't do. I must go myself."
Clutching the letter tightly, Sama Geuk whirled around.
The direction his emotionally charged footsteps took was unmistakable.
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A sky where the orange-purple sunset permeated brilliantly.
Beneath it, Hyeok Mulin's entire body was dyed in deep sunset hues as he demonstrated his swordsmanship with fluid movements like a dance of blades.
From west to north.
North to east.
East to south.
South to west.
The square traced by his sword path gradually narrowed.
It morphed into something closer to a circle, shrinking steadily until it became a single point.
Slashing and thrusting.
Different in meaning, yet one in essence.
Slash, thrust, thrust, slash.
The two repeated motions unified into one.
Having reached a state where the naked eye could no longer distinguish slash from thrust, he raised his sword high overhead.
Whoosh!
At that instant, Hyeok Mulin's eyes flashed as he brought the sword down.
Clearly, he had slashed empty air, and the sound of cutting through it rang out.
Yet Hyeok Mulin's final stance had somehow resolved into a full-extension thrust.
"Hoo..."
Catching his breath, Hyeok Mulin gazed at the blade.
'Even knowing it, I don't understand.'
No matter how many days he trained, he still couldn't fathom the limits of this Pure Soul Divine Demonic Art.
Normally, one could roughly gauge the end of a martial art's cultivation, but this inner art made finding that boundary impossible.
However, one thing was certain: compared to before, starting his inner energy had become smoother, and its power was steadily growing.
'If only I could keep swinging forever.'
Releasing his grip on the sword hilt, Hyeok Mulin let out a regretful voice.
"That's enough for today."
He had entered the Heavenly Martial Hall after breakfast and trained for six hours straight.
For more training, it was time for rest now.
"You've worked hard."
At that moment, Jang Wi appeared right on cue, offering a towel politely with both hands.
Hyeok Mulin stared at him steadily.
The current Left Guardian of the cult, Jang Wi.
A veteran who carried grim tales of showing no mercy in his hands, always stained blood-red.
Yet aside from those rumors,
'In my previous life, he was the only one who treated me as the Heavenly Demon.'
Jang Wi was the head of the Shinwon Jang Clan, which had served Heavenly Demons for generations.
Even setting that lineage aside, he alone had supported Hyeok Mulin—a mere puppet—right up to the brink of death.
'I wasn't lonely when he was around.'
However, when Hyeok Mulin ascended as Cult Leader, Jang Wi was already advanced in age.
Because of that, he passed from old age in less than a decade, and after that, no one remained by Hyeok Mulin's side.
'I still don't know why.'
Serving the Heavenly Demon was merely a handed-down tradition for the Shinwon Jang Clan—there were no binding constraints or oaths.
Thus, abandoning a powerless Heavenly Demon would draw no blame, yet Jang Wi had always silently stayed by his side and served him.
"Thank you."
With a faint smile, Hyeok Mulin placed a hand on his shoulder, took the towel, and wiped the sweat from his face.
Watching him for a moment, Jang Wi slowly parted his lips.
"You seem... different somehow."
"Half a year is plenty of time for change."
"Is that so."
Nodding, Jang Wi recalled the first time he had faced Hyeok Mulin.
The young man who had relinquished his position as Hyeok Clan head for the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's ascension ceremony never shed the heavy shadow from his face.
As if he had foreseen his own bleak future.
In truth, after the ceremony, the new Cult Leader became a feeble Heavenly Demon tossed about by the influence of the Seven Great Demonic Families.
'That was why it was simple pity.'
Even though he was the one Jang Wi had to serve and support, Jang Wi had looked upon him with compassion.
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About three months after ascension, perhaps—suddenly, he had completely transformed.
Declaring divorce out of the blue, the Cult Leader gave Jang Wi his first order and headed to the Heavenly Demon Secret Vault.
And when he reappeared half a month later, he bore an aura distinctly different from before—though exactly what it was remained unclear.
'Intriguing.'
He had been merely an object of simple pity, nothing more or less.
Yet now, unbeknownst to himself, Jang Wi found his gaze stolen, following him closely.
"Left Guardian."
Snapping from his thoughts at Hyeok Mulin's words, Jang Wi replied belatedly.
"Yes."
Hyeok Mulin, walking ahead, paused and spoke.
"From now on, you can look forward to it."
Jang Wi's eyes widened at the firm declaration carried in that clear voice.
Gazing at Hyeok Mulin's back for a moment, he soon bowed deeply.
Meanwhile, Hyeok Mulin continued onward and opened the main gate to leave the Heavenly Martial Hall.
Clunk—
And at that instant, he came face-to-face with a middle-aged man standing opposite.
"Cult Leader, it's been a while. I hope you've been well."
Sama Geuk, with veins bulging inexplicably on his forehead, continued with trembling lips.
"I've come regarding a matter requiring your permission."
Hyeok Mulin smirked in response.
"Very well, let's hear it."
Grand Strategist.
If it's what you desire, I can permit anything.
Anything except one thing: your resignation.