Chapter 252 - That Is the Nine Calamities Demonic Art

I followed Father down an unfamiliar path.

I had never walked behind Heavenly Demon Hall before. Even when I returned to the Cult to obtain materials for the great ritual before my regression, I had never been able to come here.

When we reached a beautifully landscaped flower garden, Father told me there was a formation here.

“Follow me, stepping exactly where I step.”

The formation laid over the garden was the Nine Springs Evil Spirit Labyrinth Formation. It was a dreadful lethal formation that would leave anyone who failed to find the precise gate of life pursued by evil spirits until they died.

I followed carefully, placing my feet exactly where Father had placed his.

Once we emerged from the Nine Springs Evil Spirit Labyrinth Formation, the view ahead changed abruptly. A great building rose like a castle where there had been nothing while we were walking through the garden.

More secret than any other place in the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon, this was the Nine Calamities Demonic Palace.

Father pressed his palm against a small panel beside the door. When he channeled internal energy into it, the enormous door slowly began to open. Only someone who had learned the Nine Calamities Demonic Art could enter this place.

I stepped into a new world.

The instant I entered, a single sight overwhelmed me.

Straight ahead sat an enormous stone statue in the likeness of the Heavenly Demon's Soul. It looked much like Father seated in his grand armchair.

The Heavenly Demon's Soul held a hand out before it. I knew instinctively that its palm was the place reserved for the Heavenly Demon.

A thrilling shiver ran through my entire body at the sight of the Heavenly Demon's Soul. I wanted to climb onto that outstretched hand and stand tall. A desire to meet my own Heavenly Demon's Soul as soon as possible swept over me. Today, of all days, composure was truly hard to find.

Then Father said something that made my heart tremble even more.

“I, too, received the Nine Calamities Demonic Art from my father here.”

Perhaps he was recalling that day; memories of the past flickered through his eyes.

'What kind of father was Grandfather to you?'

Father had never spoken about Grandfather.

'I already have so much to tell my children about you.'

I slowly looked around.

Past and present coexisted in that vast space.

A mural along one wall depicted the Demonic Cult in its earliest days. Its imagery was frightening, grotesque, and primal, yet the paintings and statues were so vivid they seemed ready to spring to life at any moment.

Beside it was another depiction of the Demonic Cult. As the years passed, the Cult had changed as well. Both the demonic martial artists and the demons were portrayed differently.

“Over the long ages in which it has been passed down, the Nine Calamities Demonic Art has gradually changed and improved. At times, it was lost, then revived.”

The walls also bore detailed accounts of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.

There were records of its creation and detailed descriptions of the period when it had consisted of nine moves.

There had also been a time when it split into the Nine Calamities Demonic Sword Forms, Nine Calamities Demonic Saber Forms, and Nine Calamities Demonic Fist Forms, each with seven moves in its first and second halves. At other times, it had been lost and buried in darkness.

Every stage leading to its present return to nine moves was recorded on the walls in detail.

“So the Nine Calamities Demonic Art has kept changing.”

“It could hardly have been otherwise. Every age must have produced its share of fools and geniuses.”

As he spoke, Father's gaze returned to the statue of the Heavenly Demon's Soul.

“Through all those changes, only the Heavenly Demon's Soul remained unchanged.”

The moves had changed with the times, but the Heavenly Demon's Soul had not.

The ultimate being, summonable only upon achieving complete mastery of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.

Even before coming here, I had seen mental images of the Heavenly Demon's Soul several times. In the Sovereign of Myriad Evils' cave, I had felt it looking at me. I had also seen it while enduring the Martial Alliance Leader's domineering qi presence.

I could not forget the look in its eyes then. It had seemed to find me laughable, to miss me, and to pity me.

“Have you summoned the Heavenly Demon's Soul?”

Father nodded at my question.

That meant he had achieved complete mastery of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art and could summon it.

Father, did you lose to Hwa Mugi even after summoning the Heavenly Demon's Soul? Or did you fight without summoning it? Just what kind of battle took place that day?

Even now, Father's profile looked so steadfast that defeat was difficult to imagine. I did not know whether I would learn what happened that day or remain forever ignorant of it, but one thing was certain.

It would never happen again.

“If I achieve complete mastery of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, could you and I each summon our own Heavenly Demon's Soul?”

“Yes. The Heavenly Demon's Soul is said to differ slightly depending on who summons it. The one I summon and the one you summon will be different.”

A Heavenly Demon's Soul different from Father's. Imagining those two beings standing tall, facing each other, made me long for that moment.

“Mine... might be rather talkative.”

A faint smile appeared on Father's lips. For him, that reaction was as good as roaring with laughter.

“I wonder whether I'll live to see it.”

He was teasing me, but his words also conveyed just how difficult complete mastery of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art was to achieve.

Father leaped onto the stone statue's palm.

“Come up here.”

As though I had been waiting for the invitation, I leaped up to join him.

I reached out and touched the statue's hand. The stone felt cold.

The emblem of the Heavenly Demon's Soul was carved into the center of the palm, with a place for someone to sit. Apparently, this was where Father had received the Nine Calamities Demonic Art as well.

Father looked at me and asked again.

“Are you ready?”

I met his gaze as I answered.

“I want to feel the touch of the real Heavenly Demon's Soul.”

Father's majestic qi presence filled the chamber.

At last, the words I had so desperately longed for left his lips.

“I will now impart the Nine Calamities Demonic Art to you.”

Faced with this great destiny, my body trembled of its own accord. My heart, which had settled, began pounding once more.

I sat down with my back straight and my posture correct.

My breaths were slow, fine, and steady. Breath and awareness became one, and at last I was ready to accept my destiny.

This palm was no ordinary place. I did not know how it worked, but my internal energy and demonic qi moved more freely here.

“A move is a process aimed at a single outcome—killing—and a movement that optimizes that process. Your attainment will depend on how well you understand this.”

Beginning with profound principles of martial learning, Father started reciting the formulas of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.

With my eyes closed, I began committing them to memory.

It was more difficult than any martial art I had encountered. Ordinarily, I could at least grasp the rough meaning as soon as I heard it, but the Nine Calamities Demonic Art consisted of entirely new concepts.

All I could do was memorize what Father said. Understanding and interpreting it would come later. I concentrated my entire mind on memorizing it.

“... Shenque must be cold, and Shuifen must be hot. If Xiawan is the leaf, Jianli must be the root. Only when chaos becomes order and thunderous sound becomes silence will Zhongwan turn to life and Juque to death. When the Central Court point is clear and still, Danzhong...”

The incomprehensible formulas went on without end. After a long recitation, the final formula of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art concluded like this:

“... Standing alone and tall in this world—that is the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.”

When Father finished, an exclamation escaped me unbidden. How much I understood was a matter for later. Instinctively, I knew just how extraordinary this martial art was. The majesty and grandeur of this supreme demonic art enveloped me in overwhelming emotion.

“How much have you memorized?”

“The formulas themselves, all of them.”

Father was not his usual self. Ordinarily, he would have said, “Then let's go,” and risen. Instead, he repeated the formulas.

“Now, listen again.”

While teaching the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, he was more serious than ever. As a rule, the art was taught directly rather than passed down through a secret manual. Presumably, that was because misremembering or misinterpreting even a single word could endanger one's life.

After repeating the formulas three times, Father told me to recite them.

I began reciting the formulas of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.

When I repeated them accurately from beginning to end, a satisfied expression crossed his face.

“Correct.”

I made a deep bow to Father.

“I am so happy. Thank you, Father.”

Overcome with emotion, I could think of nothing else to say. I felt only joy and gratitude.

I had thought that would conclude the lesson. I have taught you; now learn it on your own.

But it did not.

Father imparted several key principles and essential points of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. Rather than explain everything, he precisely identified particular portions that might confuse me.

“Have you memorized all of this as well?”

“Yes, I have.”

“I am telling you this so you need not wander needlessly.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Father perched on the tip of one of the Heavenly Demon's Soul's fingers. I sat beside him.

“My father lectured me on all the key principles of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, from the first formula to the last. He explained how to interpret everything and how to train. Even so, complete mastery took me many long years.”

Father turned his gaze toward me.

“I will not teach you all the key principles.”

That seemed just like Father, so it did not particularly surprise me. His reason, however, was truly astonishing.

“You must know that even the same martial art can differ greatly depending on how it is interpreted.”

Then he said the most astonishing thing I had ever heard from him.

“I want to see the Nine Calamities Demonic Art as you interpret it.”

“!”

I was startled. Truly startled.

And I understood. Those words meant that Father acknowledged me as one martial artist acknowledging another. No, they meant more than that.

“Show me your Nine Calamities Demonic Art.”

He wanted to see a Nine Calamities Demonic Art superior to the one he had learned. My fiercely proud father was saying that to me now.

“And carve your own history here!”

Emotion surged in my chest. In that moment, the joy of being acknowledged by Father was greater than the joy of receiving the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. The tears that had not come then threatened to come now.

Before hearing my answer, Father rose.

“Let's go.”

In that instant, he was his usual taciturn self again.

I did not say I would show him. Because I truly would.

Thank you, Father.

I really do think coming back was the best thing I could have done.

* * *

After leaving the Heavenly Demon Divine Palace, I climbed to the summit of Mount Daecheon.

Standing there alone, I recited the formulas of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art over and over, striving to engrave them in my mind forever.

My life depended on this. Everyone's lives depended on this.

I also reflected again and again on the key principles and insights Father had shared. Without them, learning the Nine Calamities Demonic Art would have required far more time.

Forgetting even my hunger, I immersed myself solely in the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. My mind was clear and pure, and I felt sheer joy.

There was no me, no Father. In the end, even the Nine Calamities Demonic Art vanished. In a true state of complete absorption, I imprinted the art perfectly upon my mind.

* * *

The first place I visited after descending Mount Daecheon was the Merry Life Tavern.

As I entered, Jo Chunbae rushed out to greet me.

“Young lord! My sincerest congratulations! When I heard you had become the young lord, I wanted to come into the Cult to pay my respects.”

He truly looked as though he wanted to hug me.

So I swept him into a hug. Jo Chunbae was so startled he nearly fainted.

“You mustn't treat someone as lowly as me this way.”

“This is the last time you call yourself lowly. Isn't it rude to say that about a friend?”

At the word “friend,” Jo Chunbae waved his hands in flustered protest, exclaiming, “Oh, goodness!” What more needed to be said? His wrinkled face was filled with emotion.

“There has never been anyone like you, young lord, and there never will be.”

“Show me that emotion through your cooking! I'm starving to death!”

I went upstairs.

When I looked at the wall where the Demonic Buddha and Poison King had left their marks, I found that someone else had added one beside them.

Blood Heaven stopped by for a drink with his disciple.

To my surprise, the Blood Heaven Saber Demon had left those words after visiting with Seo Daeryong.

Coming here to drink together was remarkable enough, but he had even mentioned his disciple in his inscription. I smiled happily as I pictured the two of them.

A little later, Jo Chunbae came upstairs with wine and food.

Looking at the Blood Heaven Saber Demon's new inscription, he said,

“The venerable Saber Demon left that when he visited recently. It's all thanks to you, young lord.”

“Perhaps it was thanks to me at first, but now it's because of your fine wine and cooking, proprietor. Do you know how picky those people are?”

As I spoke, I tugged on Jo Chunbae's sleeve.

“Have a drink with me.”

“Yes, let me pour you a celebratory drink.”

“Do you know? This will be my first celebratory drink.”

“Oh, goodness! Someone so lowly... No, should you really accept your first cup from me?”

“Indeed. I thought of you before any of the Demon Supremes. Why might that be?”

Jo Chunbae gave a witty reply.

“Could it be because you're hungry?”

“As a matter of fact, I haven't eaten for several days.”

We laughed together.

I was different now.

I had gone from Second Young Master to young lord, and I had even learned the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.

But I would live my life unchanged.

I would live a life in which I shared drinks with Jo Chunbae like this.

I could attain tenth-level complete mastery of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art on a training ground.

But I did not believe twelfth-level complete mastery could be attained there. I believed I would find the path to the twelfth level in drinks with Jo Chunbae, in a single line drawn on the Wicked Laughing Demon's wall, and in moonlit walks with Yi An.

My absolute principle of martial learning never changed.

Only when a person changes does their martial art change.

And I knew something else.

A Demonic Path that did not smash the table was ten times harder than one that did. Jo Chunbae was a signpost for the Demonic Path I would uphold. When the smile vanished from his face, my Demonic Path would be heading in the wrong direction.

So this was celebration enough for me. Just the two of us, celebrating in grand style.

“Now, let's have a drink, proprietor!”