The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign - Chapter 851

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 851.
The secret chamber was crammed with ancient parchments and tomes.
Arcane symbols and intricate geometric patterns inscribed in incomprehensible languages covered the walls.
At a gleaming desk sat a young scholar whose eyes possessed an almost infinite clarity.
He was a man who not only mastered knowledge across all disciplines, but possessed mysterious abilities akin to those of a prophet,
grounded in his exceptional intellect.
Cheon Ki Sung, Chu So.
He was lost in profound contemplation.
“Hoe Ju, it is Bang Il.”
A low voice called from beyond the door.
“Enter.”
At Chu So’s words,
the door creaked open.
A middle-aged man dressed in official robes walked in and bowed respectfully.
He was Chu So’s trusted aide,
and the strategist Bang Il, who occasionally commanded troops in his stead and carried out various orders.
While he could not compare to Chu So, he was a rare master of strategy and tactics in the Murim,
and possessed exceptional knowledge of astronomy and geography, understanding the phenomena of nature.
Yet he had grown old without ever realizing his ambitions, fading into obscurity.
But Chu So, who recognized his talents immediately, appointed him as the strategist to fill his void and valued him greatly.
“It appears the Absolute Demon Blade Plan is nearing completion.”
Bang Il began his report cautiously.
“Those who have passed through the Eight Gates are appearing in succession. They seem so confident that they no longer even attempt to hide themselves.”
Chu So, listening to this account, let out a soft chuckle.
“That undying old fool still pursues such pointless endeavors.”
He shook his head and spoke again.
“What of Yang Seol Rin?”
“She has changed exactly as you predicted.”
Bang Il continued his report carefully.
“And she maintains close contact with Ma Jeon’s Successor. As you anticipated, she is sharing the information you subtly leaked with him.”
He spoke in a low voice.
“Upon investigation, they treat each other far more intimately than necessary. It certainly does not appear to be a mere cooperative relationship.”
“Hmm.”
A contemplative sound escaped Chu So’s lips.
There was nothing in this world he did not understand, and he could predict much of what would unfold.
Yet this matter was entirely beyond his prediction.
Much like the matter of Gong Son Dan Gyeong.
The path ahead was utterly obscured.
“How peculiar. Cheon Ki Sung was born with a nature entirely devoid of interest in romance.”
Chu So stroked his chin.
He had long since devised a plan to seize not only the Jung Son Family but the Yang Seol Family as well.
As part of that scheme, he had employed various mystical arts on Yang Seol Rin and manipulated her memories.
Her abduction by the Jung Son Family was also a meticulously orchestrated affair.
Moreover, just like Gong Son Dan Gyeong.
Cheon Ki Sung was an Absolute Solitary Star—one destined to walk through life without a romantic companion.
As proof of this, both women had passed thirty without ever surrendering their hearts to another.
Yet suddenly, Gong Son Dan Gyeong had given her heart to Seon Woo Jin.
And Yang Seol Rin had surrendered hers to Ma Jeon’s Successor.
“Would it not be wise to employ the mystical arts once more and bind her firmly?”
“That is no longer possible.”
Chu So shook his head.
“If I touch her spirit any further, she may well become an idiot. Should that happen, all our efforts thus far would come to naught.”
He nodded as though he had reached a decision.
“It seems I must meet this man once for myself.”
Chu So tilted his head and spoke.
“Muk Hon Ryeong Ju. What charm does he possess that allows him to steal the heart of Yang Seol Rin, an Absolute Solitary Star?”
“Do you intend to eliminate him?”
Most who lay eyes upon Chu So’s face do not live long.
For his identity and appearance must never be revealed.
In truth, nearly all who had seen or known of Chu So thus far had been put to death.
“How could that be? He is Ma Jeon’s Successor. He cannot be killed just yet.”
Chu So smiled broadly.
“I simply wish to see him for myself.”
His radiant smile revealed teeth gleaming white even in the darkness.
Cheon Ki Sung Chu So.
The figure who secretly orchestrated Tianxia was finally reaching out his hand directly toward Bu Eunseol.
* * *
Bu Eunseol enjoyed drinking.
Whenever time permitted, I would venture out to drink with the Lords of Sayoung Hall or the members of the Elite Division.
But ever since learning of the existence of the Executor, such pleasures had become impossible.
I could no longer visit Ma Jeon, the Muhon Society, or the Changcheon Alliance.
If Man Wol’s prediction was correct, there was a grace period of sixty days.
Should I fail to resolve this matter within that time, the closest person to me would die by my own hand.
Until I discovered a solution, I could not draw close to anyone.
After safely delivering Sung Su Ryeo to the Sung Family Estate, Bu Eunseol felt an inexplicable melancholy.
Innocent commoners had nearly been sacrificed because of my troubles.
The darkness shrouding Murim grew ever deeper, and events were unfolding that my martial prowess and influence could not resolve.
Under normal circumstances, I would have frantically roamed Murim or devised schemes to address this crisis.
But following Man Wol’s counsel, I first sought to organize my turbulent thoughts into clarity.
‘Is life not inherently solitary?’
For the first time in a while, he wandered aimlessly through the Murim.
Then, by chance, he discovered a small Inn tucked away in a secluded alley, and he entered it to drink alone.
Ever since Grandfather had passed away.
He had always confined himself to solitude.
Connections that arrived like chance encounters had brought brief moments of liveliness, but he had always spent long stretches of time alone.
―Time spent alone is precious and carries immense benefits.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced—words that Grandfather Bu Chanyang had once shared with me.
Bu Chanyang had advised that time spent alone was invaluable and should never be squandered.
―Quiet moments free from external stimuli are the only instances when humans can engage in creative thought.
Bu Chanyang spoke with a gentle expression.
―Humans are creatures that expend mental energy simply by being with others. Yet when alone, one can recover from spiritual fatigue and achieve emotional stability.
But young Bu Eunseol shook her head.
―I still prefer being with you, Grandfather. I don’t like being alone.
At that, Bu Chanyang broke into a hearty laugh and nodded.
―This old man will always be by Seol’s side.
‘Grandfather.’
Awakening from the reverie, I stared into empty space with unfocused eyes.
As a child, I had not understood those words.
But now, having cultivated profound martial prowess, I could fully comprehend the meaning behind Grandfather’s words.
Humans forge will through spirit, and through that will, they act.
To achieve one’s goals, one must first move the spirit.
If the heart finds no peace, the body grows weary.
If the heart lacks resolve, one becomes wounded.
If one cannot control the heart, true ability cannot be manifested.
In the end, time spent alone is
precious respite—a moment to regulate and refine the spirit, which is the very source of human existence.
‘Did Man Wol also offer her counsel with this understanding in mind?’
In truth, the Executor’s appearance had left my spirit in a state of extreme depletion.
Even if that had not been her intention, solitude like this was certainly what I needed now.
Drinking alone while calmly reflecting on various matters…
The urgency that the Executor had stirred within me had vanished, and my spirit had returned to the peaceful state it once knew.
Night had grown deep.
Most of those who had been drinking at the Inn had departed, leaving only a young scholar seated in a corner and a middle-aged man dressed in fine silks.
And myself, making three in total.
The young scholar’s appearance seemed pure, yet there was a decadent beauty to him.
It was as though light and darkness coexisted within him.
The middle-aged man in fine silks bore the typical appearance of a wealthy magnate.
He wore rings set with diamonds and adorned his body with numerous expensive ornaments.
‘The common thread—they all share a love of drink.’
I smiled inwardly.
Those who truly appreciate alcohol
drink without concern, even if fires rage around them or people brawl nearby.
The time spent drinking is precious—a moment devoted entirely to oneself.
Such time must never be squandered.
As if to prove this, the Wealthy Elder and the Young Scholar paid each other no mind whatsoever,
focusing solely on their drinking.
*Glug glug.*
Bu Eunseol sipped from her cup in measured portions,
*Gulp.*
while the Wealthy Elder drank heartily, using a large bowl as his cup,
and the Young Scholar in the corner drank directly from the bottle like a man possessed by wine.
The world fell silent, and only the sounds of three people drinking echoed through the inn.
From the Tavern Keeper’s perspective, guests who lingered late into the night were hardly welcome.
Yet since all three were consuming prodigious amounts of alcohol in their own distinct ways,
he could hardly voice his complaints.
Still, one thing troubled him—the Young Scholar drinking alone in the corner.
Though his face was fair, his clothes were stained with grime and his shoes were worn.
―Something feels off.
Innkeepers who ran establishments alone were deeply wary of those with shabby appearances who drank heavily.
One careless mistake could cost them
a month’s earnings to a penniless drunkard.
This keeper in particular had worked in inns since his youth,
and had opened this modest establishment with the savings he’d accumulated, running it alone ever since.
Thus he had developed considerable experience in handling such situations.
“Young Master.”
After careful deliberation, the keeper approached the young man gulping down alcohol with great courtesy.
“Excessive drinking is harmful to your health. Might you consider stopping now?”
*Thunk.*
Rather than answer, the young man produced a large lump of silver from his robes.
He understood that the keeper’s concern stemmed from worry about payment.
“Oh my.”
The keeper’s face brightened at the sight of the silver, and he quickly seized it.
“Indeed, wine drunk in youth is as good as medicine. Do you need anything to eat?”
“Food is merely another form of wine.”
“A splendid sentiment! Then allow me to bring my finest delicacies.”
The keeper beamed and retrieved not cheap baijiu, but Hwang Ju that had been carefully aged in his wine storage.
The young man drank without comment, even as the wine changed.
“In this region, there’s a valley with pristine water and excellent taste, perfect for brewing exceptional spirits.”
Yet despite receiving better wine,
the young man continued to drink it down like a hippopotamus at a watering hole.
“How does it suit your palate?”
The Tavern Keeper, somewhat disappointed, subtly sought the Young Scholar’s opinion, and the latter’s face twisted into a grimace.
“The taste? What does taste matter? Alcohol is merely medicine, nothing more.”
“Medicine? What do you mean by that?”
“Physical pain can be soothed by medicine, but the anguish of the heart cannot be eased without a cup of spirits.”
The Young Scholar emptied another bottle as he spoke.
“What fool in this world drinks medicine while savoring and critiquing its flavor?”
The Tavern Keeper realized the Young Scholar’s mind was not entirely clear, and he offered agreement with unfocused eyes.
“Indeed, indeed. Please, drink more.”
Yet the Wealthy Elder’s perspective differed.
He sensed that the Young Scholar’s words carried profound mystery within them.
“So you’re saying spirits can heal the heart?”
The Young Scholar laughed softly.
“If they possessed no such virtue, why would anyone consume something so bitter and astringent?”
The Wealthy Elder found the Young Scholar’s words quite amusing, and spoke in a measured tone.
“I am merely curious whether spirits truly serve as medicine for the heart.”
Yet the Young Scholar, as if uninterested, turned his head and evaded the question.
Thereupon the old man withdrew a promissory note from his robes and slid it across the table.
“If you answer me, I shall give you this.”
“No need.”
The Young Scholar laughed and replied.
“Fortunately, I live a life so satisfying that I need not beg from others.”
When the Young Scholar refused, the old man produced another promissory note.
“Yet this money would make your life far more abundant and prosperous.”
“Ah, you’ve lived your life quite wrongly, old man.”
Upon seeing the staggering sum written on the note, the Young Scholar clicked his tongue in dismay.
“What use is such a scrap of paper?”
“A scrap of paper.”
The Wealthy Elder sighed and shook his head.
“Only those wealthy enough to spend money like water without it running dry would speak such words.”
And he spoke plainly.
“Yet those very people would never say such a thing, for they understand the value of money.”
“You flatter me.”
The Young Scholar waved his hand dismissively at the note, as if he’d seen a plague spirit.
“We drunkards are satisfied with merely a cup of spirits. Possessing such vast wealth would only breed worry and concern.”
“Worry?”
“Would not such great wealth invite calamity upon a powerless drunkard?”
The Young Scholar shook his head.
“Who might steal it? How could I protect it? Such anxieties would consume me entirely.”
The Wealthy Elder’s expression grew disappointed.
“Then all the wealthy in Tianxia must live unhappy lives, while the poor live in bliss.”
With that, he rose from his seat.
“I thought I’d offered a reasonably clever response and felt a momentary spark of interest… but it seems I was merely a drunkard fond of sophistry.”
The Wealthy Elder shook his head, placed a large silver coin on the table, and departed.
The Young Scholar paid him no mind.
He emptied another bottle and spoke in a low voice.
“The old man has wasted his life. Protecting what one possesses only multiplies worries, and responsibility crushes the body. Yet he calls that wealth…”
Shaking his head, he reached for a fresh bottle.
“When drunk, only that moment exists—what greater happiness could there be?”
And he murmured softly and thinly.
“A truly wealthy person is one who understands this truth.”
In that instant, Bu Eunseol, who had been quietly drinking, stilled her hand.
The Young Scholar’s murmur had struck her profoundly.
“When drunk, only that moment exists… indeed.”
And without realizing it, she whispered those words aloud.
The Young Scholar glanced at her and let out a soft laugh.
“You, a drunkard like yourself, can appreciate my words?”
Bu Eunseol nodded.
In truth, she
understood deeply what the Young Scholar had said—words the Wealthy Elder could not comprehend at all.
“Just now, the elder interpreted your words merely as the obsession and suffering that wealth brings.”
She continued her explanation.
“But you were not speaking simply of the obsession and suffering wealth brings… rather, of the endless desires and ambitions that arise from possessing more and more.”
Human desire is infinite.
Yet sadly, the means to fulfill that desire are finite.
And the Young Scholar spoke of living a life of contentment.
That is, through possession, that perfect satisfaction could be destroyed.
He was wary of being cast into an inescapable snare.
“Hmm, indeed you are right.”
The Young Scholar uttered an exclamation at Bu Eunseol’s interpretation.
And he spoke words both strange and profound.
“Even the most tightly locked heart can open with a single cup of wine, can it not?”
Bu Eunseol nodded in agreement and gazed into the Young Scholar’s gleaming eyes as she asked.
“Generally, young people make mistakes when they drink, yet you seem different.”
“If one fears intoxication in youth, what will one learn going forward?”
The Young Scholar shrugged as he spoke.
“Wine is a miraculous elixir that transforms foolishness and error into wisdom. Is it not?”
“Indeed.”
As Bu Eunseol struck her knee in admiration, the Young Scholar’s expression grew suspicious.
“Do you truly understand my words?”
“Young people make frequent mistakes when they’re drunk.”
Bu Eunseol spoke matter-of-factly.
“But put another way… isn’t the wisdom gained through mistakes the very path to true understanding?”
“Hah.”
The Young Scholar suddenly let out a great sigh, then looked at Bu Eunseol and spoke.
“I’ve searched the entire world and found none… yet here stands a drinking companion well-versed in the Way of Wine.”
“There’s no need to seek out a drinking companion.”
Bu Eunseol spoke calmly.
“Wherever you go in this world, as long as wine exists, you’re never alone. It’s like a friend who always consoles you with kind words.”
“Haha, that’s true as well. A wise observation indeed.”
The Young Scholar beamed and extended his thumb in approval.
“A certain sage once spoke of life’s pleasures, saying, ‘While people find joy through various means, true joy arrives when sharing a cup of wine.'”
The Young Scholar took a bottle of Hwang Ju he possessed and sat at the table where Bu Eunseol was.
“Without wine, one cannot fully experience joy and delight… thus, what lies within the wine cup is the purest joy of all, he said.”
And looking at Bu Eunseol, he extended his cup.
“And when we share this joy and delight, it doubles. Will you join me?”
“Joy and delight, you say.”
Bu Eunseol gazed down at the transparent wine held within the cup.
Rather than delight, it seemed to reflect the life of years already lived.
“When light fades, shadow too must vanish.”
Bu Eunseol gently clinked her cup against the one the Young Scholar offered.
“Just as the ripples in the clinking cups come to rest… so too does life flow onward.”
It was a chance meeting with the Young Scholar.
Since drinking wine itself was but a part of life… there was no reason to refuse.
The Young Scholar, satisfied with Bu Eunseol’s answer, smiled contentedly and drained his cup instead of speaking.
Bu Eunseol watched him and emptied her own cup.
Thus the two conversed and drank until the sun rose.
The Tavern Keeper watched them and fell asleep.
And eventually, the Young Scholar too grew drunk and slumped his head onto the table, snoring softly.
Whoosh.
Bu Eunseol quietly rose from her seat.
Leaving behind silver coins worth several times the cost of the wine, she silently and slowly departed the inn.
“….”
Then for a time, silence hung over the inn.
Whoosh.
And the Young Scholar, who had been asleep, slowly lifted his body.
The eyes of the Young Scholar who had risen were not those of a drunkard, clouded and muddled from wine.
Instead, they held a bright light capable of illuminating the entire world, transparent as well water reflecting the autumn sky.
Creak.
He rose from his seat and stepped outside the inn.
“No matter how skilled a master may be, they cannot detect a technique like Spirit Qi Concealment.”
The Young Scholar was employing Spirit Qi Concealment, a legendary technique long thought extinct in the Murim, perfectly hiding the vital energy within his body.
Thump.
As he released the Spirit Qi Concealment, a profound radiance flowed from his eyes.
Though merely a glimmer appeared in his pupils, his visage transformed into something far more mysterious.
He began to emanate an auspicious light, as if a celestial immortal from the heavens had descended into human form.
Cheon Ki Sung.
The Young Scholar was none other than Chu So.
At that moment, a low and desolate voice echoed from the void—the voice of his subordinate who always stood guard over him.
“Why did you simply let her go, sir?”
If Chu So deemed someone worth using,
he would either kill them or transform them into puppets through his Grand Technique.
Yet he had employed neither method against Bu Eunseol.
“Her martial prowess is truly remarkable.”
Chu So murmured in a low voice.
“She has achieved Perfect Meridian Circulation, so had I rashly used the Soul Binding Technique, I would have suffered a backlash instead.”
And he wore a subtle smile.
“Yet it would be a waste to kill her.”
“How so, sir?”
“Her martial skill is extraordinary, but her wisdom is like that of an elder who has lived a hundred years.”
Until now, Chu So had regarded most people, save for a select few in the Murim,
as mere monkeys not even worth conversing with.
But Bu Eunseol was different.
She possessed wisdom and insight as profound as his own, and above all, conversation with her flowed naturally.
It was a pleasant exchange he had rarely experienced before.
“Is that so?”
Upon discovering Chu So’s bright smile as he sat in the Inn, his subordinate could not hide his astonishment.
He did not regard most humans as equals, merely using them as tools.
Yet after such a brief conversation, he wore such an expression.
“Let us leave her be for now.”
Chu So turned with a pleased laugh.
“She seems likely to prove useful in the future.”
The subordinate’s expression darkened.
That smile of Chu So’s.
It was a smile filled with pure joy untainted by Cheon Ki Sung’s fate—something he had never witnessed once since childhood.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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