Chapter 366

Chapter 366: Truth (6)

“…”

The entire chamber fell into absolute stillness, every gaze transfixed on Il-mok’s features with an overwhelming sense of profound bewilderment.

The countenance that had just been unmasked appeared incredibly juvenile, possessing a youthfulness that seemed entirely incongruous with a master of his grand stature.

Yet, their astonishment had manifested a bit too early.

The moment Il-mok parted his lips, he delivered a revelation that shook the very foundations of their understanding.

“I am called Il-mok. I am the final disciple taken by the lately departed Heavenly Demon, Hyeokryeon Il-hwi.”

It appeared as though the spirits of everyone present had taken flight from their physical forms upon discovering the true identity of the Incarnation of Maitreya. The shock was magnified because virtually no soul within the boundaries of the Central Plains possessed any knowledge regarding the youngest disciple of the Heavenly Demon. The solitary exceptions who held a vague inkling were the Beggar King and the Little Tiger Beggar, and their awareness was limited to the fact that the Heavenly Demon had adopted a youth a decade ago, a boy celebrated across the lands of Xinjiang as an absolute prodigy.

In that exact instant, “You treacherous hound of the Demonic Cult, you have played us for fools this entire time!!”

The Leader of the Qingcheng Sect erupted in sudden fury, unleashing a direct sword strike aimed squarely at Il-mok.

His features were contorted with pure rage.

The original architect of the Qingcheng Sect had once been a follower of the Kongtong Sect, an entity that had been completely erased from existence by the Demonic Cult in an age long past. Consequently, the Qingcheng Sect and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had survived in a perpetual state of bitter animosity, and the sudden realization of this grand deception ignited that historical malice into a blinding fervor.

Il-mok executed a minor, graceful pivot of his frame, effortlessly evading the sudden onslaught of the Sect Leader. Concurrently, Taoist Master Cheongmok had unstrapped his blade and leaped forward to reinforce his peer.

The sudden outbreak of violence within the chamber prompted Jin Hayeon and the remaining sentries stationed outside to smash through the entryways and casements, yet Il-mok checked their advance without so much as casting a glance in their direction.

“Remain where you are.”

Even while engaged with a pair of formidable bladesmen simultaneously, he commanded his allies to abstain from the conflict. The martial artists of the Orthodox Faction, who had begun circulating their inner reserves in anticipation of a massive brawl, likewise checked their movements upon hearing his words, electing to observe the unfolding confrontation for the time being.

The entire sequence of events was not only a bewildering quagmire, but the observers also failed to detect even a shred of lethal intent emanating from Il-mok as he managed the warriors of the Qingcheng Sect.

Conversely, the Qingcheng Sect Leader was radiating an undeniable desire to kill as he pressed his offensive.

Il-mok countered the incoming fury by redirecting the momentum of the blade using the fundamental tenets of yielding, allowing the weapon to glide harmlessly past his form. The redirected momentum completely disrupted the Sect Leader’s equilibrium, causing his physical frame to stumble directly into the trajectory of Taoist Master Cheongmok’s advancing weapon.

“Ugh.”

As Taoist Master Cheongmok frantically altered the path of his sword, Il-mok darted past his perimeter and struck his pressure points, freezing him in place.

By utilizing the noticeably inferior Sect Leader as an unwitting barrier, Il-mok neutralized the greater peril without expending any significant exertion.

“Perish!!”

The Sect Leader threw himself at Il-mok once more, consumed by madness, but he lacked the capability to ever rival Il-mok’s prowess.

Thud.

Within a mere span of three brief exchanges, Il-mok had immobilized the Qingcheng Sect Leader’s pressure points as well.

As the gathered Orthodox masters displayed visible unease at a demonstration of martial capability so unsuited to someone of his tender years, the immobilized Taoist Master Cheongmok bellowed in pure outrage.

“You villain!! You manipulated every single one of us solely to ensure the isolation of the Emei Sect!!”

His indignation at having placed his convictions in the Maitreya Luminous Cult was entirely genuine.

Il-mok regarded him with a rigid expression before offering his reply. “When your belief was that we represented the Maitreya Luminous Cult, you concurred that the Emei Sect was culpable. Yet, now that you recognize us as the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, does the Emei Sect suddenly regain its innocence?”

Taoist Master Cheongmok stumbled over his words at that retort. Then, the Sect Leader bellowed once more.

“Do you truly believe we would disregard the atrocities your kind committed in days gone by?! Even if the Emei Sect bears guilt, do you imagine we are blind to whatever wicked conspiracy you are spinning!”

“Tell me then, if a progenitor commits a slaying, does that dictate that all their offspring merit destruction? Is that the precise brand of righteousness the Qingcheng Sect champions?”

Rather than lingering for a reply, Il-mok shifted his attention entirely toward Hwangbo Yeon.

“Fist Phoenix, is that not the exact sentiment you shared with me? You maintained that the youthful followers ought not to be slaughtered for the transgressions perpetrated by their predecessors. Therefore, explain to me, how is it righteous to extend clemency to the youths of Emei, while demanding that we answer for the offenses of forebears who perished centuries in the past? Is this truly the manner in which the Orthodox Faction dispenses its virtue?”

“T-that is…”

Hwangbo Yeon found herself utterly devoid of speech. Her internal reflections coiled into a chaotic snarl, and her mind reeled so violently that a Heart Demon was effectively clawing at her consciousness.

“Regain your focus.”

Precisely at that critical juncture, Hwangbo Ak placed his hand firmly against her spine, injecting his inner reserves to pacify her turbulent internal energies.

Following this, the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal took a stride forward.

He observed Il-mok, a highly intricate sentiment reflecting in his eyes.

‘An aberration’s student is an aberration as well, it seems.’

The Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal, Muheoja.

Throughout his extensive existence, there had occurred a solitary instance where he had stood face to face with the previous leader of the cult, Hyeokryeon Il-hwi.

It transpired on the day his Grandmaster, recognized as the Wudang’s Greatest Sword, stood upon the precipice of his mortal departure.

In contrast to his venerable Grandmaster, the individual destined to eventually command the moniker of the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal always perceived his own martial path as lacking substance. His Grandmaster was a figure who had ascended to the very crest of martial realization, yet chose to spend his existence secluded within the recesses of Mount Wudang, dedicating his soul to the Dao rather than engaging with the secular martial realm.

Then, on a particular day when his Grandmaster’s physical vitality was rapidly drawing to its natural conclusion, Hyeokryeon Il-hwi arrived to visit him at his isolated dwelling.

The instant he stood before Hyeokryeon Il-hwi, the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal’s deepest premonitions signaled a single truth.

The entity observing him was a colossal peak radiating an absolute void.

Just as the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal was fortifying his resolve to wager his very existence, a frail utterance emerged from the space behind him.

“Young one, he is a companion of my past. Move aside.”

The Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal found himself doubting his own perception.

His Grandmaster, the illustrious Wudang’s Greatest Sword, was identifying the supreme leader of the Demonic Cult as a companion?

As the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal moved to the flank with a countenance frozen in sheer bewilderment, the visitor spoke.

“This Seat shall disregard your insolence solely out of respect for my history with this star-crossed companion of mine.”

Following those words, Hyeokryeon Il-hwi strode directly past the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal and entered into discourse with the Wudang’s Greatest Sword.

The pair of ancient paragons conversed on trivialities, yet any casual observer would have deduced they were the most intimate of confidants.

After a duration not exceeding a mere fifteen minutes, Hyeokryeon Il-hwi departed from the secluded dwelling.

“Young one.”

Only then did his Grandmaster summon him closer.

“Cease your blind adherence to hollow dogmas and begin evaluating existence through your unclouded perception. Merely because an individual claims the title of ‘Orthodox’ and ‘Righteous’ does not guarantee they lack corruption, and merely because a soul belongs to the Demonic Cult does not preclude the possibility of a rational exchange with them.”

The Wudang’s Greatest Sword lectured him as though admonishing a small juvenile. And he was delivering this counsel to Muheoja, the celebrated Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal, a warrior who had already crossed his sixtieth year at that point in time.

“Are you asserting that the Heavenly Demon is an individual open to reason?”

“Hahaha! You witnessed the interaction with your own vision, yet you harbor skepticism?”

“…”

When Muheoja failed to construct an adequate reply, the Wudang’s Greatest Sword unexpectedly shifted the topic to a memory from his youth.

“This concerns an era when this ancient frame was full of vigor, a time when I pursued worldly renown rather than immersing myself in the essence of the Dao.”

With those words, the Wudang’s Greatest Sword recounted the tale of his initial encounter with Hyeokryeon Il-hwi. He detailed how he had misjudged the circumstances in his youthful arrogance, earning a thorough thrashing as a consequence.

“Hahaha. Thus, in a twist of fate, this ancient master received enlightenment regarding the Dao from an individual branded as a dog of the Demonic Cult. Is that not a grand irony?”

“…”

He was incapable of offering a denial.

To deny it would mean discarding everything his Grandmaster embodied, yet to agree would imply he was mocking his elder.

The Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal maintained his reserve and uttered nothing.

“Young one, do you comprehend the rationale behind this ancient master confining himself to this remote dwelling across a lifetime, pursuing nothing save the blade and the Dao?”

“…To perceive the true Dao and grasp that fleeting renown holds no value?”

The Wudang’s Greatest Sword gestured in negation.

“In my early years, it stemmed from a youthful obstinacy. I desired to best that Demonic Cult scoundrel a single time, so I swung my blade while grinding my teeth in frustration.”

“…”

“Yet as I practiced with each passing sun, and crossed paths with him across various locales to test our steel, I came to realize at a certain juncture that I genuinely relished the combat and the discourse with him.”

“…”

“Hence, I persisted in my path. To continue testing my blade against his. And to ensure that no blameless souls would be forced to shed blood.”

Muheoja absorbed the words in silence.

He had never conceived that the Grandmaster who had spent his twilight years within this isolated sanctuary deep in Mount Wudang possessed such a history.

Yet that concluding remark eluded his understanding, prompting him to inquire.

“What is the significance of ensuring no blameless souls shed blood?”

“Tsk, observe this young one. The individual who instructed me had ascended to become the absolute authority of the Demonic Cult. And when you occupy their highest seat, how can you simply disregard the desires of your subordinates? Thus, I was required to provide him with a justification, was I not? Consequently, I acted as his justification. An unyielding justification so he would not launch an assault upon the Central Plains without a valid grievance. It remains a tragedy that, distinct from myself, that bald spiritual leader appears to harbor an entirely separate intent.”

“…”

As Muheoja stood transfixed by this staggering revelation, the Wudang’s Greatest Sword offered a concluding thought.

“Young one. Permit yourself not to be swayed by unverified tales; forge your independent ethical foundation. The outer foliage of a grand oak may flutter in a gentle draft, yet its foundational roots remain unyielding. The Martial Path of Wudang operates on identical principles. To properly balance the flexible, there must exist immovable roots deep below.”

Aligned with his essence as a martial paragon of Wudang, the ancient Grandmaster utilized his final moments of vitality to impart a concluding revelation on the nature of the blade.

In that bygone era, the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal had merely crossed the threshold of the Realm of Truth, but following decades of contemplating his Grandmaster’s wisdom, he ultimately ascended to become a titan recognized among the premier five of the Twelve Heavenly Pillars.

Yet, he had never envisioned encountering Hyeokryeon Il-hwi’s final disciple in this specific environment.

The rationale behind the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal abstaining from the fray rather than reinforcing the Qingcheng Sect masters was rooted in his Grandmaster’s parting guidance.

Instead of executing a thoughtless maneuver, he desired to evaluate the reality with his independent judgment.

“It is unjust to burden successive generations with the offenses of those who walked before them. We shall concede that point. Yet, it remains standard practice to harbor wariness toward an entity that has historically engaged in deception on multiple occasions.”

The Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal delivered that assertion to gauge the response, and Il-mok provided his reply.

“If the issue is fundamentally one of reliance, I shall accept your wariness. Not only does our shared past exist, but there is no masking the reality that we have misled every soul here, even if alternative paths were absent.”

The reality that Il-mok conceded the point so directly and without evasion left the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal and the surrounding Orthodox Faction warriors thoroughly disoriented by the interaction.

Yet, Il-mok had not concluded his piece.

“With that established, rather than closing your perception simply because reliance is lacking, I request that you analyze the sequence of events from its true inception.”

He indicated the correspondence arrayed upon the surface of the desk.

“Should you desire, we are prepared to distribute the entirety of the intelligence we have secured and analyze what is verified versus what is fabricated in cooperation with the Beggars’ Gang. My sole request is that you deliberate upon the motivation that compelled me to discard my disguise and expose my true form before this gathering.”

When Il-mok referenced the Beggars’ Gang, the Beggar King observed him with a highly conflicted demeanor.

“Prior to answering your proposition, I harbor a handful of inquiries.”

“By all means, present them.”

“What was your primary motivation for unmasking yourself? Regardless of your exceptional talent, you do not possess the capacity to subdue every master gathered in this chamber simultaneously.”

“It stems from my discovery of the underlying reality. And if averting disaster demands merely the forfeiture of my solitary existence, I deem that an incredibly minor expenditure.”

In reality, Il-mok possessed an additional factor he was relying upon.

Within the ranks of the Maitreya Luminous Cult resided countless blameless ordinary folk.

Distinct from typical pretenders, the martial masters assembled within this chamber possessed a foundational ethical code.

Il-mok had reasoned that they would restrain their hands to prevent a slaughter among the defenseless populace. He merely refrained from articulating that point directly, as it would cause him to resemble a scoundrel leveraging captives.

“Then a final inquiry. Should the Beggars’ Gang decline, what course do you propose to chart? Or more critically, what transpires if no soul within this chamber credits a single utterance you have made?”

“In that scenario, I intend to abandon this enterprise entirely and retreat to Xinjiang. As I articulated previously, our continued presence here would merely amount to serving the objectives of the Imperial Family.”

Upon hearing those words, the formerly quiet Qingcheng Sect Leader erupted once more.

“You manipulate an army of blameless folk into aligning with this counterfeit Maitreya Cult, and now you intend to simply collect your effects and flee?! Have you completely lost your senses?!”

In stark contrast to the enraged Sect Leader, Il-mok systematically scanned the gathering and offered a narrative.

“There exists an account originating from the distant territories of the West.”

None present could fathom the relevance of his words, and countenances displaying everything from confusion to utter mystification manifested throughout the chamber, yet Il-mok persisted.

“There lived an individual who operated as a contract slayer in his youth, claiming the lives of many blameless souls. When he ultimately grasped the enormity of his transgressions, he journeyed across the far reaches of the land, gathered youths who had been rendered kinless, and nurtured them within an isolated sector of the frontier.”

This was a narrative Il-mok had acquired during a previous existence. Consequently, he framed it as a chronicle obtained from the Western Regions.

“One afternoon, the matured youths of the individuals he had slain traced his whereabouts to exact retribution. Allow me to pose a question to this assembly. Is that individual wicked? Or is he virtuous? And should he be deemed wicked, does that dictate that the youths he preserved are likewise wrongdoers who earn destruction?”

Having delivered that query, Il-mok offered a parting salutation to the chamber.

“I shall not compel your choice. Affirm your own pace. Deliberate upon the matter and reach your independent conclusion.”

With that final remark, he strode past the martial artists of the Orthodox Faction and departed from the pavilion.

Yet, long after Il-mok’s departure, a profound quietude enveloped the room.

Every individual present found themselves exploring their internal consciousness for a resolution to the riddle he had left behind.