Chapter 11
Facing a screeching demon beast, Cheon Mujin focused on the demonic energy (magi) flowing within his body.
He had steadily collected demonic energy while regularly patrolling.
Though the amount he managed to purify to an extremely high level of refinement was minimal…
What mattered was that his internal energy had grown through steadily absorbing magi.
“Feels like it’s about time.”
He had dragged things out long enough.
Any more would be meaningless.
“They’ve probably already received my information by now.”
There were already rumors spreading within the cult that the Third Young Master had regained his senses on the battlefield—and even showed outstanding performance.
Now was not the time to hold back to prevent more information about him from leaking.
Therefore…
“Time to draw it out.”
While dodging the demon beast’s attack, Cheon Mujin closed in and stabbed its chest.
A seemingly insignificant strike.
It didn’t even pierce the hide, but Cheon Mujin was satisfied and retreated again.
“KRUUAAAHH!!”
Enraged by the seemingly mocking action, the demon beast charged in more wildly—but that was as far as it got.
No matter how recklessly it charged, it couldn’t close the gap.
Not a physical gap—one of skill.
Between the demon beast and Cheon Mujin lay a vast, insurmountable difference in skill.
After slipping in and stabbing the beast’s chest six times while dodging attacks…
“Phew.”
Cheon Mujin calmly adjusted his breathing.
He didn’t even bother to quickly back away from the beast’s reach.
He simply composed his slightly disrupted breath.
“H-huff… What was that?”
“Are the demon beasts scared?”
His teammates, who were fending off other demon beasts nearby, were confused by the beasts’ sudden change in behavior.
“Looks like the squad leader won.”
Experienced Doujin quickly gave his answer.
This type of reaction was typical when a leader-type monster was defeated.
In such cases, demon beasts would scatter like disorganized rabble.
If they had more manpower, chasing them down wouldn’t be a bad idea, but…
“Hold your positions. Do not pursue.”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
Knowing Doujin was likely right, Yoo Hyunhwa and Baekwoo nodded without protest.
Now with some breathing room, they calmly assessed the surroundings.
They saw the demon beasts they had taken down, and Cheon Mujin standing still in front of one like a statue.
From what they could tell, it looked like he had won.
“But how?”
A shared question arose in everyone’s mind.
They expected him to win—after all, Cheon Mujin was strong enough to overwhelm even peak masters.
And with time passed, it wouldn’t be surprising if he had grown even stronger.
The question was—how had he won so cleanly?
The area was in chaos from the demon beast’s rampage, but there were no visible injuries on its body.
For a martial artist who used hand-to-hand techniques to kill, the corpse would normally be as brutal as if it had been cut by a sword—or worse.
Hand-to-hand combat required full destruction to kill.
You didn’t die from a broken limb. You had to destroy the body—or the head.
Broken bones, crushed organs, burst flesh from pressure—those were normal signs.
Considering how strong the demon beast was, it should have been a brutal fight, and its body should be battered, bruised, and covered in blood—like Baekwoo had been.
“Tch.”
As Cheon Mujin clicked his tongue while standing in front of the beast…
Thud!
The demon beast finally collapsed.
As if confident it was truly dead, Cheon Mujin simply turned his back on it.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. Everything’s almost wrapped up.”
“Then leave it. We don’t have time to worry about that anyway.”
“Huh? What do you mean—?”
“I don’t like wasting time. Would be nice if you came out quickly.”
Out of nowhere.
Doujin, startled by Cheon Mujin’s sudden words and actions, instinctively pulled the juniors toward him.
At the same time…
“Haha! What a crazy bastard. How’d you know? You don’t have the skill to detect me.”
“Do I need to detect? You’d definitely be here.”
“So it was a prediction, huh? Sharp, our little lord.”
Grinning slyly, the man patted the fallen demon beast a few times, then nodded.
“You’ve got some interesting abilities. How’d you do it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Even the magi in the magic stone was drained. But there’s no sign you forcefully extracted it with something like a soul-sucking technique.”
It was as if the owner of the magi had changed, and the body followed naturally.
Was that even possible?
The man could answer his own question.
No.
That wasn’t possible.
Even if—
“Even if you practiced Heavenly Demon Divine Arts (Cheonma Shingong), I don’t think that’s doable. I’m really curious now.”
“If I was practicing that, I would’ve just bashed your skull in.”
“Haha, fair point.”
As if remembering something, the amused man gave a polite bow.
“Forgot to introduce myself. You said you value manners, right? I’m Woo Choong. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Cheon Mujin. And manners, huh. This is how you show respect?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“You stink.”
“…Stink?”
At those words, Woo Choong’s expression twisted subtly.
“You might not notice since you’ve adapted, but everyone around you can smell it. The ones smiling in front of you are just very patient. You should value them. But keep in mind—they’re also good at hiding their real feelings, so there’s a high chance they’ll stab you in the back.”
“You speak well. Trying to buy time, are we?”
“Buy time?”
Why would I?
Cheon Mujin’s genuine confusion made Woo Choong smile.
“Weren’t you waiting for your beloved lord? Or… don’t tell me—you’re planning to fight me? All because you took out one of my subordinates? That got you cocky?”
“So that guy was your lackey. Makes sense why he was weak.”
Cheon Mujin replied calmly, but the squad members listening were shocked.
Did he just call a peak-level master a lackey?
They instinctively prepared to blow the signal horn when—
UkyAAAA!
Kyaaaaa!
The demon beasts that had started slinking away suddenly charged with renewed fury.
Far more ferocious than before.
Their eyes weren’t just unfocused—they were bloodshot and crazed.
“No pointless moves.”
Confirming that his subordinates were now tied down, Woo Choong turned his attention back to Cheon Mujin.
Of course, it wasn’t because he’d lost interest.
He had the leisure to.
His level was at the peak of the peak masters—just a step away from super-peak (transcendence).
Completely different from the grunt who had only been forcibly pushed to peak-level to do fieldwork.
See? Even now, he hasn’t lost track of Cheon Mujin’s—
Crack!
“Gah!”
A sharp strike to his side.
How?!
Before the pain even registered, confusion filled Woo Choong’s mind.
Then, he heard a mocking voice in his ear.
“Know your place.”
“Grrgh!”
Gritting his teeth, Woo Choong swung his arm, filled with poisonous internal energy, aiming for Cheon Mujin’s neck.
He’d already thrown away any plan of capturing him alive—this was a kill strike.
Dodging with a larger-than-usual motion, Cheon Mujin lightly clenched and opened his fist.
“Good.”
The magi he’d absorbed earlier was significant.
Fully refining it would take time—but if he just used it, it was a different story.
Even with the impurities, burning it all at once would greatly boost his power for a short period.
He’d used this method before—when facing a peak-level master during the Heavenly Yang Demon Sect incident.
As Woo Choong tried to pull his hand back, Cheon Mujin stepped in half a pace.
As if expecting this, Woo Choong’s left hand cut off his path.
Targeting his chin—a blow he couldn’t afford to take.
But—
Tap.
A light elbow deflected Woo Choong’s hand upward.
So smooth it looked choreographed.
Woo Choong actually smiled.
If the chin moved up, next was the head.
He’d just smash the head in instead.
But…
Whoosh!
His strike missed and only grazed the back of Cheon Mujin’s head.
“Kghk!”
Cheon Mujin’s fist dug into his side again.
Unfamiliar with pain, Woo Choong’s face twisted and his posture faltered.
It wasn’t long—but for Cheon Mujin, it was enough.
He slammed his fist into the opponent again.
A rotating punch embedded in his body twisted flesh and bone.
Wrist, shoulder—everything twisted.
A punch meant for destruction—not one he’d ever use in sparring with Baekwoo or others.
It was a taxing technique, but the demon beast’s magi buffered the toll on his body.
Still, even that had limits.
“At most, half a quarter hour (about 7 minutes).”
That was how long he could maintain this form.
A long time in a fight between elites—or a short one.
But—
“Plenty.”
Cheon Mujin advanced.
Strike after strike.
Not even using his legs—just fists.
Rooted firmly, he twisted his upper body for power, giving no room for counterattack.
Each punch wasn’t strong enough to shatter with a single hit.
But Woo Choong began to break anyway.
If one punch wasn’t enough—you just kept punching until it was.
“RAAAHHH!!”
Woo Choong exploded with internal energy to reverse the situation.
The internal force of a near-transcendent master had tangible, almost physical power.
Normally, that single outburst could’ve knocked Cheon Mujin back and reset the fight.
If his opponent wasn’t Cheon Mujin.
Swish.
A smooth movement, barely different from the last.
With a slight twist and faint energy surrounding him, Cheon Mujin redirected the blow.
As Woo Choong’s face twisted in disbelief—
CRACK!
Cheon Mujin’s fist hit his chin.
His jaw shot up.
The pain in his mouth told him—he might never eat solid food again.
“Wh…at…”
How could this be?
He couldn’t comprehend how this mere second-rate brat was doing this…
Confusion, disbelief, rage, fear—emotions swirled.
“Phew.”
As Cheon Mujin caught his breath, Woo Choong’s knees hit the ground.
A perfect chance to retreat or regroup—if he were conscious.
“Weak.”
His limp body collapsed, face-first into the dirt.
There was a chilling sound as his face hit the ground, but Cheon Mujin didn’t care.
Even if he was unconscious, a peak master wouldn’t die from that.
And if he did—so be it.
“…Looks like I didn’t even need to step in.”
“Thank you for watching calmly.”
“I had no choice but to watch. No need for thanks.”
The Windless Division’s Lord, who had been standing by, let out a bitter laugh at Cheon Mujin’s words.
He’d asked him to tag along just in case…
But he’d handled everything on his own.
More than that—
“…Is there even any need for him to gain battlefield experience?”
What on earth is the Heavenly Demon thinking?
