Chapter 775: Since You’ve Taught Me a Good Martial Art
It had been a long time for Geom Woojin.
Had he ever felt such a pleasant and peaceful rest before?
Of course, there had been countless moments of rest until now.
But no rest had ever felt as precious or as pleasant as this one.
The reason was perhaps because of this—
Geom Woojin quietly turned his head and looked at his son sitting beside him.
His son was still flicking his fingers busily under the chair, trying to cheer him up. And that effort didn’t stop with seagulls or crawling crabs.
Swoooosh—!
From the sea ahead, a stream of white water burst into the air.
Pooooong—
A massive whale broke through the surface. Geom Woojin couldn’t hide his surprise. He hadn’t expected to see an actual whale appear.
“Have you ever seen a whale before?”
“I’ve only seen pictures of one in books.”
“Yet you managed to make it look so real.”
Living as a martial artist in the Central Plains, it was never easy to see a whale in person. Woojin himself had seen them only a few times in his younger days while wandering with the Fist Demon across the lands. Even then, since becoming Cult Leader, this was probably the first time he had seen one again.
Geom Mugeuk, too, had seen whales many times in his life before regression, but most of them were brief encounters.
Only once had he seen a whale that left a deep impression on him. And right now, he was recreating that vivid memory exactly as it had been.
Woooooo—
The whale let out a deep, resonant sound.
Woojin turned again to look at his son. He had never heard it with his own ears, but he thought this must be what a whale truly sounded like. It was as if the sea itself longed for the sky.
“There’s a trick to this.”
Geom Mugeuk explained to his father how to freely unfold the imagery he imagined within the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique.
How to activate the mnemonic verses, how to compose one’s thoughts and heart—
Mugeuk sincerely hoped his father would take more interest in this technique. Because when the time came, his father might be the one who needed to use it.
Woojin listened to his son’s explanation while watching the whale swim through the sea.
“The whale looks lonely.”
The words had barely left his mouth when—
Snap!
Another jet of water erupted, and another whale rose to the surface. The two whales swam together, surrounded by smaller dolphins leaping joyfully around them.
Seeing that, Woojin smiled without realizing it. Truly, it was a sight he had never seen in his life.
And he wasn’t the only one who felt happiness.
Geom Mugeuk had always been happy when he was alone in this space. Yet now, he felt even greater joy and contentment than when he was by himself. To feel such emotions here, of all places—it wasn’t only his father who was changing.
The whales swam off somewhere, and the surface of the sea became calm once again.
Geom Woojin silently gazed at the ocean. In the past, he would have already said, “Let’s head out now.” But that sentence never came out.
He stayed seated, thinking he would leave after a little while longer, and before he knew it, he had dozed off. Then he dreamed.
It was a dream of his younger days, back before he had even become the Young Cult Leader.
And as if he were having a lucid dream, Woojin saw himself objectively.
Did I ever smile so brightly like that?
Did I ever get that furious?
Was I ever that expressive with my emotions?
He had no idea how long he slept.
When he opened his eyes, Geom Mugeuk was asleep beside him.
Woojin was quietly astonished. Even though this was within the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique, and even though he was with his son—
He had never once in his life taken a nap without realizing it.
The warm sunlight and the cool breeze still lingered in the air.
‘Even while asleep, he maintains the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique.’
Woojin realized that his son’s mastery over this illusionary art was truly profound.
Naturally, this technique had originally been created to kill. It was, after all, an illusionary art of the Blood Sect.
It must have been developed to lure an enemy in, to surprise and confuse them, and then kill them easily.
Yet his son was using that fearsome martial art as a place for rest.
He was creating whales.
“When did you wake up, Father?”
Mugeuk yawned as he slowly woke up.
Woojin spoke in a mildly reproachful tone. He didn’t really have the right to, since he had slept as well, but still—
“Can a martial artist afford to be so careless?”
“If an enemy came, Father would protect us.”
His son had surely seen him fall asleep first, then followed after—but now he was pretending otherwise.
“Let’s get up.”
“Yes, Father.”
Before leaving the illusion, Mugeuk spoke one last time to his father.
“Father, I truly enjoyed today.”
Normally, Woojin would have only given a single nod—or perhaps no response at all.
But today was different. He nodded and shared his own thoughts about this place.
“I enjoyed it too.”
Mugeuk was deeply moved by those words. He knew better than anyone that his father would never say something he didn’t mean.
Watching his son’s delighted expression, Woojin suddenly remembered his younger days from the dream—the times when words like that came naturally to him.
His son had taught him something he had long forgotten.
Perhaps what he had been learning from his son all along was how to reveal and express his emotions.
“I’ll leave first.”
Just as Mugeuk was about to flick his fingers, his father stopped him.
“Wait a moment.”
Today’s moment together was not over yet.
When his father said, “Let’s get up,” it didn’t mean they were leaving this place.
“Since you’ve taught me a good martial art, I should teach you one in return.”
His father was never someone who simply received something without giving back.
Geom Mugeuk waited, half in disbelief, for what would come next.
“I will pass on to you the Eighth Form of the Nine Calamities Demon Art.”
Mugeuk’s eyes trembled. There were probably no words that could shake his heart more than hearing that the Nine Calamities Demon Art would be passed down to him.
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?”
From the Seventh to the Ninth Form of the Nine Calamities Demon Art were techniques used by the Heavenly Demon Spirit.
Before Mugeuk’s last departure from the cult, his father had taught him the Seventh Form, Demon Soul Genesis, and now he was already intending to teach him the next.
“Isn’t that how your destiny has been flowing?”
From those words, Mugeuk understood—it was because he had achieved his Full Body Transformation that his father wished to pass it on sooner. His assumption was indeed correct.
“Since you’ve completed your rebirth, you’ll be able to comprehend the mnemonic verses more easily.”
Geom Woojin spoke calmly while looking at his son.
“From this moment on, I will pass on the Eighth Form of the Nine Calamities Demon Art.”
Mugeuk bowed deeply, then knelt and listened attentively.
“Stand up.”
After helping his son to his feet, Woojin gave an unexpected instruction.
“Create a walking path—make it one with many changes along the way.”
After a moment of thought, Mugeuk flicked his fingers.
Snap.
A small path appeared before them. Beyond it lay a stream; crossing that, a small field stretched out, and past that stood a bamboo forest. Beyond the bamboo forest, a waterfall cascaded down.
“Let’s walk together.”
To Mugeuk’s surprise, his father began passing down the mnemonic verses as they strolled along the path.
The Eighth Form of the Nine Calamities Demon Art—Demon Soul Rapid Ascent.
The second demonic technique used by the Heavenly Demon Spirit.
“When the demonic soul races across the new world, all bow and revere it. The flow of True Energy begins at the Celestial Spine Point. Its first movement must be light yet strong; as it passes through the Central Abdomen Point, it should grow heavy and solemn; and when it reaches the Great Vertebra Point…”
Normally, mnemonic verses required deep concentration and stillness to memorize.
Even under ordinary circumstances, they were difficult to recite, and to do so while walking made it far more challenging.
Moreover, the Eighth Form was even more complex and intricate than the Seventh. The Seventh had already been the most complicated verse Mugeuk had ever learned, and now the Eighth surpassed it still.
Under normal conditions, he would have to sit in complete stillness and memorize every line word for word. The system and flow of this art were utterly different from typical martial arts, often defying logic, making memorization no easy feat.
But this time was different. His father was teaching the verses in a completely new way.
“When the True Energy reaches the Hundred Convergences Point, a blue aura will swirl before your eyes…”
At that part, Woojin plucked a green leaf from a tree and flicked it toward Mugeuk as if throwing the words for him to commit to memory.
“Reverse the True Energy, but maintain its gentle flow.”
When it came time to reverse the circulation of energy, his father turned around and brushed the petals of the flowers blooming along the back path.
When teaching a verse that required crossing meridian lines, he did so while stepping across a line of stones, speaking the mnemonic verses as they moved.
“…When the True Energy passes through the Life Gate Point, you must draw in the energy like a swirling vortex.”
At that moment, Woojin spun his hand in a circular motion, and a spiral of energy burst forth from his palm, striking toward Geom Mugeuk’s Life Gate Point.
Swaaaash—
Even as he leapt to dodge the strike, Mugeuk memorized the verse perfectly. In fact, it was easier to remember that way.
“…It must move as coldly as autumn frost.”
As he spoke that line, his father dipped his hand into the stream.
When passing down the verse that called for a gentle yet firm flow of True Energy, Woojin bent a tall stalk of bamboo and let it snap back. When teaching a verse that required strong and solid energy, he sat upon a boulder to deliver it.
Whenever there was something in the surroundings that related to the verse, he made sure to use it.
The difficult mnemonic verses blended naturally with his father’s gestures and the environment around them, making memorization effortless. No, it was beyond effortless—it felt as though he would never forget them for the rest of his life.
And within that special way of learning, his father’s care and affection for his son became deeply engraved.
That precious lesson came to an end when their long walk brought them back to where they had started.
“I believe I’ve memorized all the verses.”
To confirm, Woojin began asking detailed questions about various parts of the mnemonic verses, focusing especially on the sections that were hardest to recall. Once satisfied with his son’s flawless answers, Woojin’s expression softened into contentment. His face said it all—the memorization was perfect.
“But Father, how did you know of this method of passing down the verses while walking? It was far easier to remember this way.”
“Since my younger days, whenever I struggled to memorize something difficult, I used this method. I would use the things around me to help fix them in memory.”
“Thanks to that method, I memorized everything.”
“Even so, it’s almost impossible to memorize such difficult verses in so short a time, even with that trick. I expected it would take at least three walks.”
Of course, memorizing the mnemonic verses and embodying them within one’s body were two entirely different matters.
Since this art required moving internal energy in a completely new way, Mugeuk asked about the parts he didn’t understand, and as always, his father answered each question with full sincerity.
Lately, whenever father and son discussed martial arts, one of them would always achieve a new depth of understanding.
Because of that, their conversations grew more profound, and even when they spoke about the same topics again, there were always new insights and realizations to be found.
When their exchange of questions and answers finally ended, Mugeuk understood the verses completely. His memory had clearly sharpened, and his comprehension had deepened.
The effects of his body transformation were undeniable.
Normally, it would have taken him several times longer, yet he had mastered this form even faster than the Seventh.
His father didn’t ask how long it had taken. Woojin, proud as he was, probably didn’t want to risk sounding competitive.
But this time, it seemed the matter didn’t wound his pride—it filled him with pride instead.
“Among all the previous Demon Cult Leaders, you’re likely the one who mastered the Eighth Form the fastest. Both in reaching this point and in the time it took to learn it.”
The emotion on Woojin’s face wasn’t surprise but something closer to deep satisfaction.
Mugeuk gave the credit back to his father.
“Then Father must be the one who made the Eighth Form easiest to memorize and comprehend among all the past Cult Leaders.”
Mugeuk felt genuine joy.
The completion of the Nine Calamities Demon Art didn’t just mean progress as a martial artist—it meant progress as the Young Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
“As I’ve said before, the power of the Heavenly Demon Spirit depends on how well you comprehend the mnemonic verses. So whenever you have time, never neglect to meditate on and train in their meanings.”
At least for the final three techniques, it meant there was no need to summon the Heavenly Demon Spirit separately. Everything depended on how deeply he could understand them himself.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now then, let’s leave.”
Mugeuk flicked his fingers first.
Snap.
A world appeared—the one his father had created within the Temporal and Spatial Transference Technique. Within that illusion, they had made and remade countless worlds.
Snap.
This time, Woojin flicked his fingers, and reality returned. They were back in his private training hall, where Mugeuk had first come to find him.
The two of them stepped out of the training hall and began walking through the inner courtyard.
“Father, I have two goals related to the Heavenly Demon Spirit.”
“What are they?”
“As I mentioned before, the first is to speak with the Heavenly Demon Spirit.”
His father had told him once that among the past Heavenly Demon Spirits, there had been some that could communicate in words.
“The second goal is to make the Heavenly Demon Spirit smaller—in human size.”
“And once you do?”
“I plan to travel with it, like a friend.”
Woojin blinked in disbelief, shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of the thought.
“Well… perhaps if it’s you, then maybe.”
In the past, he would have called it nonsense, but now he had a strange feeling—
that he might one day truly see that impossible sight become reality.
“So, where are you going now, Father?”
“I’ve got some overdue work to take care of.”
“Just take the day off for once. The cult will run just fine without you.”
Woojin replied as he walked ahead.
“And why do you think it runs well?”
He didn’t need to say it aloud—everything functioned smoothly because of his constant effort.
Without another word, he made his way toward the Heavenly Demon Pavilion.
Mugeuk remained standing where he was, watching his father’s back as he called out loudly,
“Father! Your brilliant son, who was already born clever, has now learned such an incredible memorization method, so I’ll surely soar even higher from here! Thank you truly!”
His father paused mid-step but didn’t turn around as he answered,
“Then consider it repayment for letting me see the whales.”
Yes, among all the unforgettable things from today, that moment watching the whales with his father was something he would never forget for the rest of his life.
“Whenever you wish, just say the word. I’ll have those fellows ready and waiting.”
Woojin continued walking toward the Heavenly Demon Pavilion.
Mugeuk couldn’t see his father’s face, but somehow he knew—he must have been smiling.
Mugeuk lifted his gaze to the sky.
At last, he had mastered the Eighth Form of the Nine Calamities Demon Art.
Now, only the final Ninth Form remained.