"Huff! Huff!"
Only after half a day did the sparring with Lee Cheonsang come to an end. Of course, it wasn't really a sparring. Lee Cheonsang merely received Seoryang's martial arts without launching a proper attack himself. However, Seoryang, overcoming the overwhelming presence of Lee Cheonsang, delivered his best strikes every moment for half a day. No matter how skilled Seoryang was, he couldn't help but be exhausted.
Seoryang lay sprawled on the ground, his face pale. He couldn't even think of maintaining etiquette in front of the cult leader. His muscles were so fatigued that they felt paralyzed.
"It wasn't even this bad when I endured the Heavenly Net."
In other words, he had accumulated more fatigue in just half a day than he had in the past week. Lee Cheonsang, looking down at the heavily breathing Seoryang, was perfectly fine. His clothes were slightly dirtied by the wind and dust, but compared to Seoryang, who was in tatters, it was nothing.
Lee Cheonsang glanced down at his sleeve.
"What an amazing fellow."
Normally, with the internal energy emanating from his entire body, not a speck of dust should have touched his clothes. Yet, after half a day of sparring with Seoryang, not only was there dust here and there, but the edge of his sleeve was slightly cut. It was the mark of a single successful strike.
"How long has it been?"
The martial arts of the Demon God that allowed no one to approach. Even a year ago, before he went into seclusion, he was an absolute master who had earned the title of Heavenly Demon. Even then, it was hard to find anyone who had touched his clothes. Yet today, his sleeve was cut by his disciple's sword. And it was the martial arts of a young man in his mid-twenties.
The significance of this was immense.
"He has grown this much."
Of course, it was a result that came with teaching in mind. If Lee Cheonsang had been even slightly serious, Seoryang's life would have been gone within five exchanges, let alone his sleeve being cut.
"No, that's not quite right."
Lee Cheonsang's eyes shone.
"What's engraved in his soul is death itself. But for now, his survival instinct takes precedence over his attack instinct. If I were serious, he would flee ten miles away in an instant."
He was someone who would survive no matter what. And only when he was confident would he draw his sword. In other words, he was no different from a wild beast. Even fierce and savage beasts retreat with their tails between their legs if they feel they might get hurt.
"…Interesting."
Lee Cheonsang's expression seemed indifferent. In truth, his heart was as cool and solid as a transparent rock. But today, while teaching his disciple, he felt the greatest excitement he had in years. It was endlessly interesting, and it also made him vigilant. Feeling interest in someone meant he was still captivated by the demonic.
"Ugh."
Seoryang slowly raised his upper body. His body wasn't in pain. It just lacked strength. He had exhausted all his internal energy, so he had to rely solely on his physical strength to get up.
Lee Cheonsang asked, "Did you gain anything?"
"A, a little."
He nodded. There was no need to ask what he had gained.
"I merely received your attacks. What you gained was your own effort, not my teaching."
"Cough! I don't even have the strength to move now."
"There will be no more sparring. Come up to the pavilion."
Without looking back, Lee Cheonsang walked to the pavilion. He had no intention of helping Seoryang up.
Seoryang grumbled inwardly.
"Cold-hearted human, a person who knows no respect."
Ah? He might not even be human.
"What on earth is he made of?"
His current skills were only half of his peak. But the attacks he poured on Lee Cheonsang for half a day were by no means simple. Regardless of his skills, it was the first time he had focused so intensely on attacking someone.
And yet, all he managed was to get some dust on his clothes.
"Monster, monster. Damn it, that old bastard of the Heavenly Alliance sent me to assassinate such a monster?"
Forget assassination, just don't get eaten alive. The moment that monster appears in the martial world, you're done for.
"Anyway."
A look of joy spread across Seoryang's face as he finally stood on his feet.
"I still gained a lot."
Just swinging a sword against a supreme master with as much presence as Lee Cheonsang was a learning experience. Swinging his sword for half a day, there was no way he wouldn't gain anything. He could identify and correct unexpected gaps in his sword techniques one by one.
For a master like Seoryang, real combat is learning itself. Though it wasn't real combat, in this intensely focused exchange, his sword techniques became smoother and more aggressive.
"Always made me feel suffocated, but now I get such fortune."
Seoryang, smiling, took a step forward, inadvertently letting out a groan.
"Ugh."
Damn it, only now does the pain come.
Struggling up the pavilion with an awkward gait, he found Lee Cheonsang drinking alone again.
Seoryang grumbled, "Does it taste good drinking alone?"
He was surprised at his own words that came out unconsciously. With a nervous heart, he glanced at Lee Cheonsang, whose response was quite surprising.
"It doesn't."
"…Ah, yes."
"Would you like a drink?"
If he drank in this state, he would surely get drunk. He thought about trying it but decided against it. He wanted to leave this awkward place as soon as possible.
"I'm fine."
As soon as he finished speaking, Seoryang mentally slapped his own mouth.
You idiot! When the cult leader offers a drink, you should accept it eagerly! Are you trying to get yourself killed?
Again, Seoryang watched Lee Cheonsang's reaction. But Lee Cheonsang simply nodded neatly.
"Sit down."
"Yes."
Seoryang quickly sat across from him. His heart was pounding so hard that he didn't even have time to feel the pain.
After emptying his glass once more, Lee Cheonsang picked up a piece of paper beside him and handed it to Seoryang.
"What is this…?"
"It's the gaps in your demonic arts."
"…!"
"Your demonic arts are not lacking compared to the Ten Great Demonic Arts. However, since it's a martial art created not long ago, there are quite a few areas that need improvement."
"That…"
"I don't know the incantations, but it should help. This is the true 'lesson' I am giving you."
"…"
"If you have nothing more to say, you may leave."
Seoryang looked to the left of the table. There lay scattered writing materials, hastily written down before he came up to the pavilion.
Staring at the paper, Seoryang bowed his head.
"Thank you."
It was a sincere expression of gratitude.
Lee Cheonsang glanced at Seoryang and then poured himself another drink.
"It's a rightful reward for a disciple who surprised his master. Don't worry about it."
So he can say things like that.
Seoryang smiled and said, "I won't disappoint you."
"I expect you won't."
With that, Seoryang staggered away from the pavilion.
Pouring and drinking alone, repeating the process for quite some time, Lee Cheonsang descended from the pavilion and looked down at the pond.
"Now I understand why Sirang took an interest in him."
The legend of Sirang, who is said to start wars in the nation. If that legend is true, the one to lead the war must be someone closest to death. And that guy understood death better than anyone.
Lee Cheonsang looked up. The sky was dark. Though it was just past noon, the sky was filled with dark clouds, as if a heavy rain was about to pour.
His prediction was accurate. A moment later, a downpour began.
Swoosh!
The pouring rain soaked Lee Cheonsang's body. He could have avoided getting wet by releasing his internal energy, but he didn't.
His body soaked, the dust washed away.
Flash!
Amidst the swirling lightning, Lee Cheonsang's demonic eyes shone with a fierce light.
"Is it time to grip and wield it?"
"Huh? Young master!"
"Hey, hey, don't grab me! Don't support me! Ugh!"
Wi Hongryeon, who had been watching Seoryang with a sulky expression, was startled and approached him.
Seoryang, groaning, glanced at Wi Hongryeon.
"What is it? Why are you here?"
"…You say such things to someone who's worried."
"Just curious."
"I came to drink. Is that okay?"
"Your attitude is something else. If you want to drink so badly, drink alone."
"It's only fun if I drink with you, young master."
"Ridiculous."
Grumbling, Seoryang plopped down in the training ground.
"Aenghwa!"
"Yes, young master!"
"Bring me some food! Lots of it!"
"Yes, yes! I'll prepare it right away!"
Aenghwa dashed off. It was a more urgent sprint than ever before.
Thinking that her speed rivaled that of a decent martial artist, Wi Hongryeon asked, "How did a healthy man like you come back looking like a wilted vegetable?"
Ma Dongpil frowned.
"Watch your words."
"It's true, though."
Seoryang waved his hand dismissively.
"It's distracting, so if you're going to fight, do it outside. Ugh, my back."
"Your back? Is it hurting? Should I step on it for you?"
"Why would you step on it if it's hurting, you crazy thing? Are you trying to send me off for good?"
"A massage, a massage."
"Oh, how did I end up with a connection to such a demon?"
"A demon? Oh? Or not? Is being called a demon a compliment?"
"Enough, just draw your sword. It's heavy."
The two of them removed the Dragon Scale Sword, the Meteor Twin Swords, and the Seven Night Sword from Seoryang's body and set them aside.
Seoryang lay down with a thud. Even lying on bare ground felt like salvation.
Ma Dongpil and Wi Hongryeon exchanged glances. It was the first time they had seen Seoryang so exhausted, so they were at a loss for words.
Of course, the silence was short-lived. Our Great Demon Lord Wi Hongryeon was not someone who naturally paid attention to others' feelings. It was said that her lack of awareness was inversely proportional to her crazy personality.
"Young master, are you very tired?"
"Can't you tell by looking? If I close my eyes now, three days will pass in a blink."
"I see."
"…"
"…"
"What? Do you have something to say?"
"It's not that I have something to say."
"If you have nothing to say, then go…"
"What about mine?"
"What? What are you suddenly talking about?"
After a moment of hesitation, Wi Hongryeon pointed at Ma Dongpil's sword with her finger.
"You gave him a treasured sword."
"I did. So what?"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"You, are you seriously asking why I didn't give you a sword like that?"
"That's right."
"Have you ever seen such an unreasonable woman? Hey! Are you and Dongpil the same? Why should I give you a divine weapon? What have you done for me?"
"Oh, you say such hurtful things. But isn't that what human relationships are about? Why discriminate?"
"Discriminate…"
Seoryang's eyes closed. Grabbing the back of his neck, he seemed ready to foam at the mouth from high blood pressure.
"Stop bothering people and go back. Go quickly!"
"I'm not going."
"Why not?!"
"You said you're going to eat. Since drinking seems too much, let's at least eat together."
"Don't you care about your subordinates? Take care of them!"
"They'd probably be happy I'm not there."
Unable to deny the truth, Seoryang hesitated for a moment. He wanted to retort but soon gave up.
"Fine, just eat and go. Got it?"
"You're so heartless."
"Shut up, you nuisance."
A little later, the four of them and a fox enjoyed a hearty feast.
After eating for a while, Seoryang finally felt alive and sat up.
"I'm not coming out of my room today, so just know that."
Ma Dongpil asked, "Is there something going on?"
"Something? Yes."
Seoryang's eyes deepened.
"I have something to think about."
In his hand was the paper Lee Cheonsang had given him.