Chapter 772: Because He Gave Birth to You and Allowed Our Fates to Intertwine
After parting ways with the Tenebrous Ghosts Corps, Geom Mugeuk returned to his quarters.
There, twelve guards led by Jeokyeon, the squad leader, were waiting for him, all dressed in their official uniforms.
“Young Cult Leader, welcome back.”
Those who had been lined up in front of the house greeted him in unison. Their booming voices were filled with genuine delight—ever since the last time they had shared drinks together while Geom Mugeuk personally called out their names one by one, their respect and affection toward him had only deepened.
“Have you all been training diligently?”
Jeokyeon confidently answered on everyone’s behalf.
“We have been training hard in preparation for the day we will serve you, Young Cult Leader.”
Indeed, several among the guards had advanced to the next stage in their martial arts, while others were still in the midst of that transformation.
As Geom Mugeuk observed them, he realized that his own abilities had further sharpened. He could now discern their levels with greater precision and detail than before.
Meanwhile, the first among the guards to notice the change in Geom Mugeuk was Jeokyeon.
“Young Cult Leader, something about you seems… different.”
Jeokyeon, who had achieved mastery in the Ghost Eye Technique—an art that could detect the hidden—was naturally the quickest to perceive the change in him.
“It seems my growth phase still isn’t over. I keep getting taller.”
He said it half-jokingly, but Jeokyeon could feel the transformation was real. Even so, he didn’t realise it was to the extent of complete rebirth.
“It’s been a while since we last met. Let’s see how much your skills have improved, shall we?”
Geom Mugeuk had them demonstrate their martial arts one by one, personally correcting their mistakes.
He only pointed out a single flaw for each of them—but that one correction was by no means trivial.
The guards were deeply moved once again by his instruction. The Young Cult Leader was not only the man they served, but also their teacher.
After giving each of them personal guidance, Geom Mugeuk spoke.
“Your duties as guards are important, and so is your training—but don’t forget this: this is the brightest time of your lives. Later, you’ll be stuck guarding me endlessly, so for now, find a hobby, meet women, take a vacation, travel. Live your lives. I don’t want you to die after spending your entire lives standing watch.”
They had heard these words many times before, yet none could afford to neglect their training. The more they heard him speak like that, the more eager they became to serve him with pride.
Then Geom Mugeuk took a bamboo container from his belt pouch.
“I’ll be heading to the Heavenly Poison Forest. Get ready to go out.”
He deliberately decided to bring the guards along. They were already dressed in full uniform, waiting for him like this—if they couldn’t accompany him on official missions, then at least they could follow him now.
Geom Mugeuk walked through the school grounds with his guards following behind him.
The martial artists passing by greeted him respectfully as they went, and the guards couldn’t help but puff out their chests with pride.
He even took them all the way into the Heavenly Poison Forest.
“It’s your first time here, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you get lost in here, you can pretty much consider yourself dead. It’s enormous, and deadly poisonous creatures are crawling everywhere.”
The guards walked close together, tense and alert, sticking tightly to Geom Mugeuk’s side.
Fortunately, Geom Mugeuk knew the complex paths of the Heavenly Poison Forest better than anyone else.
Whenever he came across a poisonous creature he recognized, he explained it to the guards.
“See that snake wrapped around that branch? That’s a ‘Flower Willow Serpent’. It’s an essential ingredient for making ‘Flower Poison’. Jeokyeon! There’s a venomous insect on your shoulder!”
“Please don’t joke abou—Agh!”
Geom Mugeuk flicked the insect off Jeokyeon’s shoulder with his finger. Everyone immediately huddled even closer around him.
Before long, they arrived at the Poison King’s residence. Geom Mugeuk told his subordinates to wait outside and stepped in alone.
The Poison King happened to be mixing poisons in the front yard of his laboratory.
“Poison King! I’m here!”
But the Poison King didn’t even lift his head, completely absorbed in his work.
“I knew you’d be like this, so I came prepared. You have no idea how much I struggled to obtain this thing! Even while fighting enemies, I risked my life to protect this poison container—only thinking of you, Poison King. Are you even listening to me?”
Of course, the Poison King didn’t respond, not out of pretense, but simply because he was utterly engrossed in what he was doing.
Geom Mugeuk slightly opened the lid of the bamboo container.
Rustle, rustle.
As the stench of rotting flesh drifted out, the Poison King finally reacted. He lifted his head at last.
“That smell… could it be?”
The Poison King immediately put down what he was holding and rushed toward Geom Mugeuk, peering into the poison container.
Inside was a centipede-like venomous creature. It was something Geom Mugeuk had caught beneath Heavenly Eye Mountain, promising at the time to bring it back for the Poison King—and he had not forgotten.
“The Corpse-Blood Venom Centipede!”
The Poison King’s face lit up with delight. Geom Mugeuk shook his head at the sight.
‘Our Poison King really only knows poison!’
The Poison King took the Corpse-Blood Venom Centipede out with a pair of chopsticks. The creature writhed between the sticks—just watching it was horrifying, but the Poison King looked at it with a gaze full of affection.
“See the spots on its belly? The one with the round markings is the female. They’re several times harder to find than the males.”
Indeed, there was a round mark visible on its underside. Had the Poison King not pointed it out, no one would have dared to examine that terrifying creature’s belly so closely.
“You’ve been neglecting me ever since that Demonic Buddha fellow kept bringing you all those poisonous herbs, haven’t you, Poison King? Well, those days are over. The era of the Demonic Buddha has ended—now it’s my turn.”
Just then, a calm voice came from behind.
“Why do you keep sending people away when they’re standing right here?”
When Geom Mugeuk turned around, the Demonic Buddha was walking out of the storage room, carrying a large poison container.
“What are you doing here? And what’s with that poison jar? Don’t tell me he’s got you hauling poison now, after making you dig up herbs! Has the Poison King tricked you into forced labor again?”
But the Demonic Buddha said something completely unexpected.
“I’m learning the Poison Arts.”
“…What?”
“I said, I’m learning the Poison Arts from the Poison King.”
“You are?”
The Demonic Buddha nodded.
“After collecting poisonous herbs for a while, I found myself growing interested in poison techniques. So I’m learning from the basics.”
It was something Geom Mugeuk had never imagined—the thought of the Demonic Buddha studying the Poison Arts was astonishing.
“If you ever use poison techniques, who in the world could possibly stop you?”
“I’m not learning to use them on others,” the Demonic Buddha replied calmly. “I’m studying them for their own sake.”
He set the container he had been carrying beside the Poison King, then returned to the storage room. Geom Mugeuk quickly followed him inside.
“Isn’t it difficult?”
“It’s only hard when it’s your main occupation. When it’s something you can quit anytime, it isn’t difficult at all.”
The Demonic Buddha’s expression was tranquil—like that of one who had reached enlightenment.
But Geom Mugeuk sensed an undercurrent hidden beneath that calm, like a torrent beneath a still lake. Was this man struggling so hard to find peace because something within him was boiling over?
“This side of you feels unfamiliar, Demonic Buddha.”
The Demonic Buddha paused his work and sat down on top of one of the containers. Geom Mugeuk sat beside him.
“Yes. In the past, I would never have done something like this.”
“So what made you change your mind?”
After a brief silence, the Demonic Buddha spoke words that Geom Mugeuk himself had once said to him.
“You told me not to spend my days just carving statues. You told me to walk among people, to understand their hearts, to persuade them with passion, and to fight with all my strength for what I believe in.”
“Yes, I did.”
“…But it wasn’t easy. It felt as if the flame in my heart had gone out. When a dream disappears, only a mechanical routine remains.”
Then, looking at Geom Mugeuk, he asked quietly,
“How does one reignite an extinguished flame?”
Of course—how could a person change so easily? This was the same man who used to run tirelessly on those short legs, working harder than anyone else.
After a moment of thought, Geom Mugeuk suddenly replied,
“How do you rekindle a dead flame? You don’t. You must abandon your lingering attachment to the warmth left in the ashes.”
“!”
In that moment, the Demonic Buddha felt his heart sink.
It was as if Geom Mugeuk’s words had pierced straight through him. Yes—he had indeed been sifting through the ashes, searching for the last remaining ember.
“It’s not the time to rekindle the fire,” Geom Mugeuk said. “It’s the time to gather wood. Start again from the beginning—with new logs.”
A flash of emotion crossed the Demonic Buddha’s eyes. He had been so focused on reviving his old ambitions that he’d never once considered starting anew.
“If back then you had ambitions suited for that time,” Geom Mugeuk continued, “then now, there must be ambitions suited for this moment. And those ambitions don’t need to burn brightly to be beautiful. Sometimes, there’s elegance in piling up the wood and simply not lighting the flame.”
In those words, the Demonic Buddha saw the path he was meant to take.
As long as his heart remained devoted to the Great Young Master, he knew he would never again ignite the same burning ambition as before. Instead, he would continue to long for what had already passed.
But Geom Mugeuk was telling him something different—that he shouldn’t think of his fire as extinguished, but rather as one he simply chose not to light. To turn a passive resignation into an active choice.
The Demonic Buddha sensed that this small shift in perspective would bring about a great change in his life.
He turned his head and looked straight at Geom Mugeuk. Sensing the moment, Geom Mugeuk asked with a grin,
“Don’t you notice anything different about me?”
“…Did you shave your head?”
“No, take a closer look.”
“I can’t tell.”
He wasn’t teasing—he genuinely looked puzzled.
“What? The man who can spot poisonous herbs like a ghost can’t see how much I’ve changed? Look at my skin! Smell it if you have to!”
“Why in the world would I want to smell another man’s skin? That’s disgusting.”
The Demonic Buddha sighed and stepped down, picking up the poison container again.
“Just once! Take a proper look!”
But Geom Mugeuk, feeling ignored, gave up on him and turned to ask the Poison King instead.
Unfortunately, the Poison King was completely absorbed in extracting venom from the Corpse-Blood Venom Centipede that Geom Mugeuk had brought. Unless his father himself came to interrupt, nothing could break that concentration now.
In the end, Geom Mugeuk had to leave without showing off his transformation.
“I’ll take my leave for today, Poison King. I’ll come visit again soon.”
After bowing politely, Geom Mugeuk left the place with his subordinates.
The Demonic Buddha looked up at the sky and murmured,
“Full Body Transformation, huh? Perhaps the Young Cult Leader truly is someone blessed by the heavens.”
He had known it all along—but had simply chosen to pretend otherwise.
Only then did the Poison King lift his head in surprise.
“The Young Cult Leader went through a complete transformation?”
He hadn’t noticed at all, too focused on the Corpse-Blood Venom Centipede—or perhaps, simply because he rarely paid attention to others.
The Demonic Buddha set down the poison container beside him and said quietly,
“It might be time for us to start preparing as well.”
The Poison King looked at him questioningly, and the Demonic Buddha calmly replied—
“The current Heavenly Demon Divine Cult holds greater power than at any point in its history. Do you really think the Cult Leader will let this opportunity slip away?”
The Heavenly Demon who had attained the Twelve Star Greatness, the Young Cult Leader who had achieved Ten Star Greatness himself, and the Eight Demon Supremes who had each broken through their own limits—
The Cult Leader was not the kind of man to stack up firewood and simply leave it unlit.
“The Cult Leader’s dream is drawing ever closer to reality. The more the Young Cult Leader tries to stop it, the more fate itself seems to move in that direction.”
* * *
After leaving the Heavenly Poison Forest, Geom Mugeuk’s next destination was the residence of the Leader of the Heavenly Wind Cult.
The Wind Cult Leader flinched when he saw that Geom Mugeuk had brought all his guards with him.
“What’s this? Are you here to arrest me?”
“If I wanted to do that, do you think I’d come with just these men? I’d need the entire elite force of the cult.”
The Cult Leader laughed heartily at that—then immediately frowned. Every time a conversation began pleasantly like this, he’d end up losing something before he realized it.
“So, what are you here to take from me this time? I don’t have a penny left.”
“Take something? No, I just came to see you, Cult Leader.”
“More like to check if I’ve managed to get something new to take.”
The Cult Leader eyed him suspiciously—and then suddenly gasped.
“You—”
Had he noticed the rebirth?
“You’ve gained weight!”
He burst into loud laughter.
“I told you, if you don’t manage yourself, you’ll put on weight in no time!”
Now that he mentioned it, it seemed the Wind Cult Leader himself had lost a bit of weight—only slightly, but noticeably.
“You’ve slimmed down quite a bit. You look radiant.”
“Do I really?”
He smiled in satisfaction at the compliment. It had been a while since Geom Mugeuk’s art of flattery had worked so effectively.
“When you walk through the Cult grounds these days, don’t you feel the stares?”
“Stares? What kind of stares?”
“The women’s, of course. They’re just being discreet because we’re within the cult, but if you went out into the Central Plains, they’d follow you around everywhere.”
“Oh, come on, you’re exaggerating.”
“Then come with me to the Central Plains once. I’ll prove it to you.”
“You always say that.”
“No, really—let’s go with Strategist Go. The three of us can get some fresh air.”
“It’s a promise, then.”
“Of course.”
Then Geom Mugeuk gently revealed his true purpose.
“On that note, may I ask a favor?”
The Cult Leader gave him a knowing look.
“Call it what it is—a selfish request, not a favor. So, what do you want this time?”
Geom Mugeuk hesitated for a moment, unusually reluctant to speak.
“For someone as shameless as you to hesitate like this—it must be a request I’ll never agree to.”
With a sigh, Geom Mugeuk finally spoke.
“There’s someone I’d like to teach the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique.”
Surprisingly, the Cult Leader already knew who that someone was.
“The Cult Leader, isn’t it?”
Geom Mugeuk was taken aback.
“How did you know?”
“I’ve been wondering when you’d come to ask. Frankly, I thought you’d have done it long ago.”
He spoke as though he’d been expecting it all along.
“Yes. From the beginning, I wanted Father to learn it.”
“Then why didn’t you ask before?”
“Because it was a request that could become a burden to the Cult Leader.”
“And now?”
“The situation has changed. It’s time for their leader to make a move. As you know, he’s no ordinary man.”
Of course, the Leader of the Heavenly Wind Cult assumed the opponent he referred to was the Dark Palace Master.
“That’s why I want to teach my father a secret technique—a trump card.”
He expected an immediate refusal.
But, to his surprise, the Leader of the Heavenly Wind Cult readily agreed.
“Alright, go ahead.”
“…You’re really giving permission?”
“That’s right.”
Geom Mugeuk stared at him in astonishment.
“May I ask why you’re agreeing so easily?”
The reply he received was entirely unexpected.
“It’s for your father’s sake.”
At first, Geom Mugeuk thought it was out of respect or fondness for his father—but that wasn’t it.
“He gave birth to you and brought you into our lives. That’s reason enough for me to give him such a gift.”
Geom Mugeuk was genuinely moved. Was there any reason more touching than that?
“In matters of the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique, I’m your disciple, aren’t I? Since my father will be learning from me, that makes you my grandmaster. From now on, I’ll address you as Grandmaster of Temporal and Spatial Transference! Temporal Grandmaster!”
The Leader of the Heavenly Wind Cult looked at him with an amused expression.
“But do you really think your father will willingly learn it?”
Considering Geom Woojin’s pride, he would never agree to it—and teaching him would be no easy task.
“I do have an idea, though.”
“What kind of idea?”
If it were a plan made for safety or precaution, it would only backfire.
If he were to say he wanted to “take a stroll through time and space” with his father, Geom Woojin would surely scoff at him.
No matter how complex a plan he came up with, it wouldn’t work.
There was only one way—simple, direct, and certain to provoke his father’s pride.
“How long did it take you to master the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique again?”