Translator: FenrirTL
Editor/Quality Checker/Notes : Saphartlantis
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Chapter 390: What the Martial World Needs Now Is Peace
Baek Jagang had sent the mushroom dish to Bih Sa-in purely to show it off to Jin Paecheon.
I know even the kind of dish my disciple likes.
But Jin Paecheon already knew what his grandson liked.
‘Well, they are grandfather and grandson, so they must’ve eaten together often.’
In truth, Baek Jagang was enjoying the situation. He really hadn't expected today’s summit to unfold like this.
It was unexpected to see Jin Paecheon, usually composed, suddenly boasting about his grandson like he was letting out something pent-up. And Geom Woojin, who Baek had assumed would only show coldness and ruthlessness, had revealed a different, intriguing side of himself.
Could blood really not be denied? Geom Woojin’s unexpected behavior bore a resemblance to the eccentricity of Geom Mugeuk.
Conversely, that might mean that within Geom Mugeuk’s blood, the same cold and cynical personality as Geom Woojin’s might also lie dormant.
In any case, today Baek Jagang clearly saw where Geom Mugeuk’s Demonic Path was headed.
His Demonic Path wasn’t some half-hearted answer to the question ‘What is your Path?’ like ‘Something like this should be convincing enough, right?’ The Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult was walking a resolute Path. Perhaps even more so than men of their age.
Baek Jagang’s gaze turned to Geom Woojin.
‘Your son’s Path is not the same as your Path.’
The difference between their two Paths wasn’t minor. They were headed in entirely opposite directions. 1
‘What do you plan to do from now on?’
From Geom Woojin’s eyes, cold as ever, there was no answer to be found.
Jin Paecheon must have been worrying about the same thing.
‘What do you think? About this father and son.’
But Jin Paecheon was focused on a different matter right now.
“Cult Leader Geom.”
Jin Paecheon looked at Geom Woojin briefly.
“Would you accept a drink from me?”
Jin Paecheon had been deeply moved by Jo Chunbae’s words. Geom Mugeuk had done something even righteous heroes of orthodox sects couldn't easily accomplish. It wasn’t something that should have happened in a tavern before the Demonic Cult—it should’ve happened in a tavern before the Martial Alliance. 2
From the Martial Alliance Leader’s perspective, how could he not be pleased that the next Cult Leader turned out to be such a man?
That was why he wanted to offer Geom Woojin a drink, for raising Geom Mugeuk, if nothing else. There was no other intention. He still disliked the Demonic Cult, and he still disliked its leader.
He had spoken with a big heart, but it seemed Geom Woojin disliked him too.
“I refuse.”
Geom Woojin didn’t give a reason for his refusal.
“You’ll take the tavern owner’s drink, but not mine?”
Still, without any response, Geom Woojin filled his own cup.
Jin Paecheon could guess the reason.
‘He doesn’t want to become close. Because he’ll have to kill me one day.’ 3
The ambition for unifying the martial world was still burning in Geom Woojin’s eyes.
Even if they smiled at each other, even if they drank together, even if they got swept up in a heated contest boasting about their children, even if they flamboyantly flung ten different side dishes—
The fact that they would become enemies the moment they stepped out of the tavern would never change. Elegance was merely an illusion.
Jin Paecheon also filled his own cup and bitterly drank.
‘Then what will you do? Will you continue down that path even if it means blocking your own son's way?’
This time, Jin Paecheon looked over at Baek Jagang.
Baek Jagang was absentmindedly fiddling with his cup, lost in thought.
The enemy was not just one.
Those small eyes mustn’t be underestimated. If you stay too obsessed with the Heavenly Demon, your head might end up rolling at Baek Jagang’s hand. That’s the kind of skill and ambition he possessed.
You could tell just by looking at that black martial robe he wore. When the time came, he would move swiftly and decisively.
There was a joke circulating in the martial world that if the three current leaders had each been born in a different era, three separate wars would have broken out. Whenever martial world scholars joked about their own tyrannical natures, that story always came up.
‘And with people like you, I’m supposed to go fishing and hunting with our grandkids?’
Suddenly, a nightmare popped into Jin Paecheon’s head—he stood dazed, holding a fishing rod, helplessly watching the Martial Alliance burn to the ground.
‘These men are not to be trusted.’
Jin Paecheon turned his head and looked at the one who, despite it all, had arranged today’s meeting.
‘Can you truly walk your path without being devoured by your own father?’ 4
Unlike the heavy atmosphere surrounding the adults, the mood among the younger ones was bright.
Of course, the one leading that atmosphere was none other than Geom Mugeuk.
“Alright, alright. Let me start with the introductions. This here is my older brother, who lost in the succession fight and now constantly eyes my position.” 5
In the past, he would have fired back with something sharp, but now Geom Muyang could only let out a hollow chuckle.
“I’m Geom Muyang.”
He greeted curtly. Geom Mugeuk understood. Just being here, for someone with his brother’s personality, was already doing everything he possibly could.
Jin Haryeong had heard much about Geom Muyang from her older brother.
At one point, everyone in the martial world believed this man would be the heir.
Then came the news that the succession struggle within the Demonic Cult had ended without a single drop of blood.
It was hard to believe at first. Only after truly getting to know Geom Mugeuk did she think, perhaps it’s possible. But could such a thing have been done by one person alone? It must have been possible only because this Geom Muyang was also extraordinary.
As she looked at Geom Muyang, Jin Haryeong’s gaze shifted to Geom Mugeuk, sitting beside him.
'How could brothers be so different?'
It seemed her thoughts had reached Geom Mugeuk.
“What do you think of my brother?”
It was a question clearly meant to throw her off, but Jin Haryeong answered calmly.
“I feel a sense of kinship.”
“What kind of kinship?”
“Our situations are similar, aren’t they? That miserable fate of being cast aside by the heir, I mean.”
She ended the jest directed at Geom Muyang.
“My own life’s hanging by a thread too, you know.”
She briefly wondered if this was really okay to say to the Demonic Cult’s Eldest Young Master upon first meeting, but such was the power of Geom Mugeuk. With him by her side, this kind of banter came out naturally.
Fortunately, Geom Muyang didn’t show any sign of displeasure.
It made him recall the past.
That moment when Geom Mugeuk became the heir, and he had asked, When are you going to kill me, then?
That’s why her joke resonated with him. Only those who had walked alongside an heir knew the weight of such a role.
“Would you like a drink?”
It was unexpected. For him to offer a drink. She accepted without hesitation.
“Gladly. Let’s have one between kindred spirits.”
Geom Muyang filled her glass to the brim.
Jin Hagun, watching them, spoke.
“Didn’t you hear what Grandpa said earlier? Who would dare lay a hand on the most precious and beautiful granddaughter in the world?”
As she accepted the drink, Jin Haryeong poured one for Geom Muyang and asked,
“What do you think? If the Cult Leader ordered you to kill me?”
Geom Muyang said nothing and drank in silence.
Jin Haryeong looked at Jin Hagun with a see? kind of expression.
“It’s not exactly something you can confidently say in this setting.”
She emptied her glass as well.
To her, this gathering felt incredibly refreshing. If not for Geom Mugeuk, she never would’ve shared drinks and exchanged jokes with these two—not even once in her lifetime.
Jin Hagun stared at Geom Muyang, expressionless. Honestly, he was irritated. Even just as a formality, he should’ve said, How could I kill someone so precious? Especially since it was a joke about his younger sister’s life—how could he not be on edge?
At that moment, Geom Mugeuk poured Jin Hagun a drink and said,
“Understand him. My brother’s always been curt. A lot like you, really.”
'Like me? In what way, exactly?' 6
Then again, thinking about it, had he been in that same situation, he probably wouldn’t have said anything either.
This time, Geom Mugeuk filled Bih Sa-in’s glass. His hands and words stayed busy, tending to everyone around him.
“You’re not curt. That’s a good thing.”
“You’re the first one to say I’m not curt.”
Well, that wasn’t the only first.
―Someone with a good eye for faces would know how handsome the face beneath that scar really is.
He had even been told he was handsome.
“Young Cult Leader.”
“What is it?”
Bih Sa-in asked, his gaze serious.
“Why did you bring us all together here?”
All four turned their eyes to Geom Mugeuk.
“What’s with those looks? You’re thinking, ‘If it’s you, you must’ve had some grand hidden motive or plan,’ aren’t you? There isn’t one. Everyone just seemed too uptight, so I figured we could all meet and loosen up a bit. But things kinda spiraled.”
“Then how do you plan to end this meeting?”
“Isn’t it fine if we all just have fun and then head back? Judging by the personalities of those three, the moment one of them suddenly stands and says, ‘Let’s call it here’, then that’ll be the end.” 7
As everyone looked at him in disbelief, Geom Mugeuk continued.
“Just for today, I hope the three of them can rest a bit and share some jokes. I believe that’s the most meaningful thing about this gathering. They’re men who’ve never truly had fun in their lives. I doubt they even know how.”
In truth, that was something Geom Mugeuk could say about himself, too. He knew how to live a life chasing a single path with unwavering focus—but did he really know what it meant to take care of himself and have fun for his own sake? 8
Jin Haryeong turned toward where the Cult Leader and Alliance Leader were seated. They weren’t speaking, just each lost in thought, silently sipping their drinks. Even if someone whispered here, those two would surely hear it all.
And this thought crossed her mind: perhaps, just as Geom Mugeuk said, letting those three rest—even for a moment—might be far more difficult than crafting a master plan for peace in the martial world. And maybe, it might lead to better results than any grand plan could.
It was then.
Seureung.
The sound of a sword being half-drawn rang from the lower floor. In an instant, silence descended on the space.
Geom Woojin quietly sipped his drink, Jin Paecheon looked slightly concerned, and Baek Jagang wore a faint smile.
Just as Geom Mugeuk was about to rise, knowing he had to intervene before the situation escalated—
Geom Muyang grabbed his shoulder to stop him and stood up first. He was saying he’d handle it.
Surprised by his brother’s unexpected move, Geom Mugeuk looked at him with wide eyes.
Everyone seated turned their eyes toward Geom Muyang—including Geom Woojin and the two Alliance Leaders.
Geom Muyang walked to the railing and looked down, offering a respectful introduction.
“I am Geom Muyang, Eldest Young Master of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.”
There was a flicker of curiosity in their eyes. Why had he stepped forward instead of Geom Mugeuk?
The one who had drawn their sword halfway was the Supreme Sword of the Great Principle. A battle of wills had been silently unfolding between him and the One-Slash Sword Supreme, but what truly bothered him was how she remained completely unshaken by his gaze. It irked him. Yet it also wounded his pride to be the one to look away.
Having lost the battle for composure, he had warned her—if she continued to refuse to avert her gaze, he might just draw his sword.
Without singling anyone out, Geom Muyang addressed everyone.
“I know very well who all of you here are. I also know that none of you would be standing there if not for the Cult Leader and the Alliance Leaders.”
He began with respectful words.
“Because you are such figures, you too must know—how difficult it was to make today’s meeting possible. And the one who accomplished that impossible task is my younger brother. That’s why, just for today, I want him to rest. I don’t want him to have to step up to stop a fight here. Today, I will be the one to let him rest.” 9
Geom Woojin quietly tilted his cup, listening to his son’s words. Jin Paecheon and Baek Jagang also listened silently to Geom Muyang’s speech.
Jin Gwang, who had drawn his sword halfway, looked up at Geom Muyang with a cold gaze.
Meeting his eyes, Geom Muyang spoke. His previously formal tone shifted into something provocative and intense.
“How far can you all go?”
He had said you all, not you. He hadn’t singled out the Supreme Sword of the Great Principle. If he had provoked him alone in front of everyone, pride would have forced his hand.
“I can go far. You might think—what does someone who’s not even the heir know? But precisely because I’m not the heir… I can go all the way.”
It was Geom Muyang’s clear threat—if you mess with me, I’ll take it to the end.
“So all of you, rest for today. Didn’t you fight endlessly your entire lives to reach the positions you now hold?”
As he turned to walk away, he added one last thing.
“You must’ve seen my brother, who calls the tavern owner his ‘Demonic Path’. That’s right. As you can see—he’s a madman. And I’m that madman’s brother. So unless you want to go to the very end with lunatics, I suggest you don’t stir things up today.”
The tavern fell into silence.
A brighter light shimmered from the Demonic Buddha’s body. He smiled in satisfaction, feeling that all his time and effort for the Eldest Young Master had not been in vain.
Old man Blade stepped forward with long strides and casually sat down at a table.
“Tavern owner, bring some drinks over here.”
He had turned his back to the orthodox and unorthodox masters alike with no hesitation. It was a show of confidence—try me if you dare—and also a refusal to drink while facing their faces. That was the kind of man the Blade Demon was.
As he sat down, the Demon Supremes also took seats at that table and nearby ones.
Cheolk.
The half-drawn sword of Jin Gwang slid back into its sheath. He hadn’t truly intended to draw it in the first place—but with the Demonic Cult making such a move, how could he?
Not wanting to appear overpowered, the orthodox and unorthodox masters nearby also took seats close to where they had stood. Some turned their backs boldly, while others remained standing, still watching their opponents.
'What the martial world needs now—is just good drinks and good food!'
With this kind of spirit, Jo Chunbae busily brought out the drinks and side dishes he had prepared in advance. Right—of course a fight was bound to break out if people were standing around not drinking in a tavern.
As Geom Muyang returned to his seat, he got the first word in with Geom Mugeuk.
“Don’t say a single word!”
“What do you think I was gonna say?”
“Whatever it was, don’t say it!” 10
Just how many times has he been burned to react like that? Bih Sa-in, understanding all too well, nodded empathetically and raised his cup. Jin Hagun and Jin Haryeong clinked their glasses against his with energy. A toast of solidarity.
“This is nice. Thanks to you, I’m actually getting to relax. If I had gone down there, it would’ve blown up. I probably would’ve gotten all choked up and said, ‘The Cult Leader and Alliance Leaders are just sitting there and you—who the hell are you to draw your sword on a day like today? Get up here!’ Then the guy next to him would’ve…”
Geom Muyang hurriedly pushed a drink into Geom Mugeuk’s hand.
“Just drink. And give your mouth a break.”
He said it coldly, but how could Geom Mugeuk not understand? He knew how much his brother had gone through for his sake. Just standing up earlier must’ve taken every ounce of resolve.
Geom Mugeuk relaxed, slouched into his chair, and stretched his legs out in front of him.
“Yeah. Let’s take a break.”
It was peaceful. In this moment, it felt as restful as lying on that beach inside the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique. No—perhaps even more so.
Watching him with his eyes closed and quietly smiling to himself, Jin Haryeong, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, suddenly thought he looked lonely. But that feeling only lasted a moment before slowly fading away. 11
The plate of duck in front of Jin Hagun slowly began to slide across the table on its own.
While everyone stared, the duck dish came to a stop right in front of Geom Muyang.
“If you wanted some, you could’ve just said so.”
Jin Haryeong’s voice made Geom Muyang flustered.
“No! It wasn’t me!”
“Of course it wasn’t!”
Everyone’s eyes turned in unison toward Geom Mugeuk.
Under the weight of all those gazes, Geom Mugeuk cracked open one eye and smiled as he said,
“My brother likes duck too.”
1 : And they might even clash in the future. I hope not, but the author is good at plot twists so you never know.
2 : That’s because he’s a true demonic hero ^^
3 : Hmmm, at the very least, the fact that he refused so decisively means that the possibility of becoming closer is there. If not, he could have accepted without second thoughts and still wagged war without hesitation. In a way, this refusal is proof of his consideration and honesty towards a fated adversary.
4 : If old man Heavens wasn’t a friend, he would have fought against him to ensure the success of his Path.
5 : Ouch. That stab XDXDXD
6 : Well you are indeed a bit blunt sometimes XDXDXD
7 : Yeeaaah, they’re not really the type to get convinced and go back on their decisions.
8 : Well at least you’re trying. These three probably never had the opportunity to do so.
9 : Awwww, now *that’s* what a big brother does. So different than a few months ago ^^
10 : Hehehe, I can see that smirk too ^^
11 : The more people learn to know him, the more he relaxes, the more it shows. I wonder if he’ll ever reveal his regression, would be nice.