The Ignored Granddaughter of a Murim Family - Chapter 290

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

Chapter 290
Boom—!
A heavy sound echoed as if demanding not to be forgotten.
I looked at Jeggal Hwa-mu expectantly, urging him to continue. I had no interest in Cheon-ma’s past, but there had to be a reason why Jeggal Hwa-mu suddenly decided to tell me about Cheon-ma.
The story that followed was something that absolutely no one outside the Jegal Clan could possibly know.
“Cheon-ma was originally the child of a poor farmhouse. He was destined to grip nothing but a plow until death. That is, until their parents were killed by bandits.”
“How tragic.”
I spoke in a tone utterly devoid of sympathy.
Jeggal Hwa-mu asked.
“Who do you think those bandits were?”
“Who knows? The world is crawling with bandits, isn’t it?”
Even now, weren’t bandits disguised as martial artists flocking to plunder this very Heavenly Demon Grand Vault? If I was being honest, I was no different from them.
Jeggal Hwa-mu spoke.
“In truth, they were martial artists masquerading as bandits.”
“….”
“When chaos erupts, martial artists transform into bandits in an instant. Those who know nothing but the sword solve their survival with the sword, don’t they?”
“….”
“On a cold winter’s day, twenty armed men descended upon the farmhouse demanding food. The farmer’s wife scraped together every grain she had to feed them. They left, and returned a fortnight later. She emptied her stores again to feed them. But soon, a different band of armed men arrived. They offered to protect her from those who tormented her—in exchange for food.”
Whether they came to plunder or came to protect, they were all bandits to the farmers.
“Eventually, the first bandits returned a fortnight later. This time, she refused, saying she had only seeds left for next spring’s planting. Their answer came in the form of cold steel. They took every last seed and left. Abandoning a child of merely ten years old.”
Jeggal Hwa-mu continued, spreading his fan and speaking as if singing a lament.
“Unproductive parasites who cannot produce a single grain of rice, who consume resources and wield swords, trampling upon those who labor to feed themselves and clothe their bodies. What gives them the right?”
“….”
“Cheon-ma, having survived, was fortunate enough to learn martial arts. With exceptional talent, he grew strong rapidly. Yet the stronger he became, the more hollow he felt. Eventually, he reached the pinnacle of martial prowess, but the emptiness only deepened.”
“Why?”
“With equal effort, some grow strong while others fail. The most crucial factor in becoming the strongest under heaven is not family lineage, nor inner power, nor effort. It is talent. Talent alone determines everything. Who decides talent? Who determines who is strong and who is weak?”
“….”
“This is unjust.”
“….”
“Isn’t it?”
Without realizing it, my fists clenched tightly.
Yes. I too had harbored such thoughts before.
The countless humiliations I endured when my dantian was crippled.
Those who struck me as casually as breathing, who looked upon me with the contempt one reserves for insects.
Jeggal Hwa-mu continued.
“Cheon-ma despised such a world. An unjust world. Pitiful weaklings. One could say that hatred shackled him, or that he simply gave up. And so, with the Immortal Ascension on the horizon, Cheon-ma descended back into the mortal realm.”
My eyes widened.
Cheon-ma abandoned the Immortal Ascension for such a reason?
If I had to choose the most unbelievable thing I’d heard today, it would be this.
Jeggal Hwa-mu continued.
“And he founded the Heavenly Demon Divine Sect, calling himself Cheon-ma. His purpose in unifying the world in an instant was singular.”
“….”
“To eliminate those who rely solely on martial prowess to display their might, those who indulge in slaughter and violence.”
Jeggal Hwa-mu lowered his voice, speaking as though confiding a secret.
“To annihilate all martial artists in the Jianghu, to burn away all martial arts from this world. That is Cheon-ma’s purpose.”
I was left speechless for a moment, utterly dumbfounded.
Then, slowly, anger began to rise within me.
“So what you’re saying is that Cheon-ma is completely insane?”
I heard Jeggal Hwa-mu, who had folded his fan, let out a small laugh.
I’d wondered what deep grudge could lie behind all this, only to find it amounted to something so trivial. How could the conclusion possibly be this?
Yet it was a chilling objective nonetheless.
To kill every martial artist in the Jianghu?
To erase all martial arts from existence?
It was an impossible goal. And it was only natural that someone harboring such an objective would descend into madness.
I let out a hollow laugh, speaking as though to myself.
“So because his parents were killed by martial artists, he believes he has the right to slaughter them all?”
And it wasn’t even limited to those who had cultivated martial arts.
This deranged plan included the countless sacrifices of people like me—those whose dantians had been destroyed, who could never cultivate martial arts at all.
I had lived in a world where martial arts did not exist.
But that world operated no differently.
Invisible hierarchies that divided people from birth. And violence that could not be escaped.
‘There, I was… I was….’
From within those hazy, half-formed memories, my father suddenly came to mind.
The poison my father had become addicted to—a poison that blocked the flow of inner energy.
A poison that prevented the use of martial arts.
Understanding dawned on me, and I murmured.
“So that’s why he created that poison?”
Jeggal Hwa-mu smiled with a peculiar expression. It was as good as confirmation.
When I first learned of the poison’s existence, I had questioned why the Demonic Cult would create such a thing.
A poison is something one cannot predict when, where, or how they might fall victim to.
I had thought it made no sense that even Cheon-ma, who created the poison, could fall victim to it, yet he neither created it nor made an antidote.
So until now, I had not believed Cheon-ma’s claim that no antidote existed, and I continued searching.
But even now, I had not found even a clue to the method of detoxification.
‘But if Cheon-ma’s purpose is truly, as Jeggal Hwa-mu said, the annihilation of all martial artists and the extinction of martial arts…’
Then everything made sense.
And I could be certain.
There truly was no antidote. Cheon-ma would have had no reason to create one.
“Damn it.”
Why did I come this far?
‘Why did I…!’
Anger surged through me once more.
To think he’d created such a poison, and of all things, used it to poison my father!
I could say with absolute certainty that no one in the Martial World had devoted themselves to protecting the weak through martial prowess as my father had.
Cheon-ma was nothing short of a madman.
For his own purposes, he was committing the very acts I despised most. Yet I was certain he believed his actions were righteous. Madmen always justified themselves in such ways.
Still, there wasn’t a complete absence of solutions.
Cheon-ma had said it clearly.
“If you didn’t exist, no matter how I interfered, Baek Li-ui-gang would eventually detoxify the poison and block my path.”
“No one else has ever succeeded in detoxification.”
In any case, a method to detoxify did exist. I clung to that hope.
Jeggal Hwa-mu stepped closer and continued speaking.
“And it was I, our clan, who agreed with Cheon-ma’s purpose.”
I snapped back to attention.
“What did you say?”
“Haven’t you ever thought it strange how both you and I inherit memories across generations, much like Cheon-ma does?”
Of course I had.
But I’d assumed it was merely a similarity born from facing such a formidable enemy.
After all, the Jegal Clan was currently the most targeted by the Demonic Cult and was declining in real time.
Jeggal Hwa-mu smiled faintly.
“Yes, your thinking is correct. The way I pass down memories and the way Cheon-ma continues to exist are identical. We employ the same technique.”
I contorted my face in disgust.
Jeggal Hwa-mu spoke with perfect composure.
“I called this the Technique of Defying Heaven.”
A technique to defy the heavens themselves.
To achieve the absurd goal of exterminating all Jianghu practitioners required not only great power but also vast stretches of time.
A sudden realization struck me.
I wondered how Jeggal Hwa-mu had come here and why he appeared unharmed.
But if, as he claimed, he had contributed to founding the Demonic Cult, then knowing the location of the Heavenly Demon Grand Vault and absorbing this strange power it granted all made sense.
As did why Cheon-ma had tried to annihilate the Jegal Clan for so long.
“So? Why did you split from Cheon-ma?”
Jeggal Hwa-mu surveyed the Heavenly Demon Grand Vault while gripping the contact point.
“The Family Head who initially agreed with Cheon-ma’s plan came to realize it was a mistake.”
“What? Because of side effects?”
Jeggal Hwa-mu shook his head.
“No, Cheon-ma changed.”
“…”
“He deeply regretted creating a greater evil to eradicate evil.”
Cheon-ma hadn’t changed—he’d simply awakened to how insane his goal truly was: killing all Jianghu practitioners and erasing martial arts itself.
I kept that thought to myself and spoke to Jeggal Hwa-mu.
“So you betrayed Cheon-ma and founded the Murim Alliance?”
“I didn’t betray Cheon-ma. Cheon-ma betrayed me.”
A sigh escaped unbidden.
Ah, whether it’s this one or that one. Nothing but madmen, the lot of them.
The first Jegal Family Head was hardly in his right mind either. Now I understood why Jeggal Hwa-mu despised the Jegal Clan and lived with such contempt in his bearing.
And now I understood why Cheon-ma had allowed me to spread word of the Heavenly Demon Grand Vault’s location, why he showed not the slightest concern for his own disciples’ lives and left them to their fate.
To Cheon-ma, whose sole purpose was to slaughter every soul in the Martial World, even his own disciples were merely disposable pawns—seeds that would ultimately need to be destroyed.
The more who died in the collision between the Murim Alliance and the Demonic Cult before the Heavenly Demon Grand Vault, the closer Cheon-ma came to achieving his objective.
Or perhaps he had arranged some scheme to bring mutual ruin upon them all.
No—he must have already made his move.
A hollow laugh spilled from my lips.
It was truly absurd.
The Demonic Cult’s world that they cried out for so desperately—a world where the Orthodox Path and every last Demonic Cult member had been exterminated.

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