Chapter 10
“This is a Cheonyang Magaksa. The Cheonyang Magaksa (天養魔角蛇), as its name implies—’nurtured by the heavens’—is a magical beast with an unbelievable vitality.”
“What an arrogant name. Fitting for the arrogance of whoever raised these snakes—assuming it’s just one person or even a group.”
“In an ancient text I read, the Cheonyang Magaksa that appears in the Purgatory Realm is said to be the size of five or six grown men combined. Its horn is also bigger than the upper body of an adult male. So if this one is smaller, it’s definitely a juvenile.”
“Still, if it’s a juvenile, it’s not as difficult to handle as you’d think. I’ll tell you what you’ll need.”
Recalling a conversation he had with Cheon Mujin a few days ago, the Master of Mupungdae twisted his lips slightly.
He didn’t know who was behind it, but the number of Magaksa had been increasing rapidly.
What other reason could there be for these unknown beings to do this?
A provocation.
“So, you dare to capture one of ours? How about now?”
That intent was painfully obvious.
Otherwise, there was no reason for so many Magaksa to appear so close to where Mupungdae routinely patrolled in the vast Demon Sea.
If Cheon Mujin’s guess was right—
“Master!”
The urgent voice of Oh Jiyeon snapped the Mupungdae Master out of his thoughts. His eyes gleamed sharply.
“I hope this is good news, Vice-Captain.”
After the first training session of Squad 13—
“…Ugh.”
“Here, medicine.”
“Th-thanks.”
Lying on the ground, barely managing to sit up, Yoo Hyunhwa took the ointment Baekwoo handed her and applied it with a dazed expression.
“…How did we not even graze him?”
“Ugh…”
Do Woojin clenched his jaw at her words.
His presence had changed the dynamic of the sparring session—Cheon Mujin had fought while keeping him at the center of it.
But that was as far as it went.
Cheon Mujin had dodged Baekwoo and Hyunhwa’s attacks with ghost-like precision while beating Woojin to a pulp.
He even made sure not to forget hitting Baekwoo and Hyunhwa between the beatings.
Is this even possible?
He’s supposed to be second-rate, right?
A twenty-year-old who was holed up reading books before coming here?
His head throbbed—not from the pain of the beatings but from something else.
“…And we’re supposed to work under someone like that?”
A hero has a hero’s path.
For someone like him, trying to follow that path would just tear him apart.
Could they really keep up with Cheon Mujin, who pulled off these impossible feats?
“Damn it.”
Just as Woojin was tangled up in complicated thoughts—
Baekwoo stood up.
Then—
“Hup!”
He began swinging his sword in the air.
Pausing now and then as he flinched, he would then stand still, pondering something.
Once the thoughts were clear, he’d move again. Repeat.
“…He’s reviewing the fight?”
“If I don’t, I’ll get beaten even worse next time. He has a freaky way of knowing. He hit the exact same spots again.”
“Next… Ah…”
Hyunhwa’s face turned pale in an instant.
Right.
Next.
This was just training, right?
Training we’ll keep doing.
“…I’ll review, too.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Do Woojin swallowed his dry saliva, stood up, and began leading the review.
“Let’s start with what I observed from outside.”
“Gahhh! Why? Why can’t I beat him?!”
“It’s skill.”
Cheon Mujin smirked at the breathless Baekwoo.
He was twisting in frustration, but honestly, it was admirable.
Cheon Mujin only forced them into one sparring match a day during their training.
The Mupungdae’s physical training was grueling enough, so one match was enough. The rest was up to them.
As expected, Do Woojin and Yoo Hyunhwa never asked for another round after the daily match.
And Cheon Mujin appreciated that.
Training doesn’t end with sparring. It includes reviewing and learning how to handle the situations where they got hit.
Focusing on their individual practice instead of overexerting themselves—that earned them solid marks.
“That’s enough for today.”
“What?! Why?!”
“Patrol starts soon. Get ready.”
“…Ah.”
Baekwoo, who now rarely passed out from exhaustion, staggered to his feet.
Cheon Mujin chuckled at the sight.
That grit—remarkable.
Even his recovery ability was impressive.
Could he be the Master’s illegitimate son?
Baekwoo’s martial potential was that good.
He had even started to grasp one of the core principles of Gakyeong: intuition.
So this was the guy the Mupungdae Master brought personally.
He’d ended up under Cheon Mujin’s wing before being officially trained by the Master, but—
Whatever had gone wrong in his past life, this kid was worth nurturing.
Back at the barracks, Cheon Mujin sat down for some breathing and energy circulation.
His inner power was growing steadily, if slowly.
His body too—slow, but definite progress.
No dramatic boost in speed or strength yet, but it was enough.
“I have to develop my deep muscles first.”
Bulking up can come later.
What mattered now were the deep core muscles.
Like pillars of a building, they had to be fortified to support a tall and majestic structure later.
He might remain in the “second-rate” category for a while, but he didn’t care about such shallow rankings.
There may be no visible progress on the outside, but inside, he was steadily building power.
Time passed, and when they reached the patrol meeting point, the other team members were already waiting.
Do Woojin, too, was already there.
“Looks like setting the tone on the first day paid off.”
Even with the blood of the Heavenly Demon, a second-rate leader could’ve been disrespected.
You could use your fists to establish authority, sure—but it’s different when they lower their heads on their own.
Baekwoo had done his job well.
“Any unusual activity?”
“None, sir.”
“Good. Let’s move out.”
The patrol began like always.
They’d done this route dozens of times already.
They moved smoothly along their designated path, eyes sharp.
No anomalies.
“It feels like the number of Cheonyang Magaksa has dropped lately.”
At Yoo Hyunhwa’s comment from behind, Cheon Mujin nodded.
“They’ve definitely decreased. I’ve even heard some idiots stopped wearing shin guards. But I trust none of you are like that.”
The shin guards were treated with herbs the Cheonyang Magaksa detested.
That was Cheon Mujin’s method, which he’d shared with the Mupungdae Master.
“Of course not! They keep the snakes away—why would anyone take them off? Right?”
“Only idiots would.”
Hyunhwa’s attitude had softened considerably—perhaps due to shared pain.
Cheon Mujin smiled faintly.
Seeing her smile wasn’t bad.
He’d only ever seen her cold and frozen.
This was the first time he’d seen her timid or afraid.
“This time, I’ll make sure you live a proper life.”
Not a life thrown away to protect someone else like a rag—
But a life where she could live with someone she loved.
Even if it meant invoking the name of the Demon King.
The memory of a past life briefly flashed through his mind when he saw her, but Cheon Mujin shook it off.
Those days wouldn’t return.
He couldn’t waste focus on things like that during patrol.
Just keeping the mission in mind was enough.
As he walked, a strange feeling made Cheon Mujin suddenly stop.
“What is it?”
The others, surprised by his abrupt halt, drew their weapons.
Squad 13 immediately shifted into combat mode—an impressive level of coordination.
Unfortunately, Cheon Mujin didn’t have the luxury to praise it.
“That lunatic…!”
Cheon Mujin’s energy burst violently.
Wait—this was supposed to be a second-rate martial artist?
As that thought crossed their minds—
Cheon Mujin threw a punch into the air.
Why punch at nothing?
That question vanished instantly.
CRACK!!
A deafening boom, like something shattering, echoed as a powerful shockwave rocked the surroundings.
The three scrambled to stabilize their footing using internal energy and spread out into formation.
They moved without hesitation to support Cheon Mujin—
“Stay out of my fight. Cover the surroundings!”
At his command, they halted and redirected their focus outward.
As he said, magical beasts were closing in.
“…How did this happen?”
The patrol had been relaxed, sure—but they hadn’t let their guard down.
With Do Woojin and Baekwoo’s sensing abilities, they should’ve noticed this number of beasts long ago.
Yet here they were, completely surrounded without a clue.
“Hold them off—just the three of you, without me!”
Hold them off?
If Cheon Mujin was saying that, the situation had to be bad.
Baekwoo looked toward Cheon Mujin through the dust kicked up by the shockwave.
“…The hell?”
His face contorted at what he saw.
A tiger’s head, a hulking body packed with bulging muscles like a Daeseongsaeng (Great Holy Beast), bear’s forearms, legs standing like some unknown beast—
They’d seen grotesque magical beasts on this front line before, but never one that looked this dangerous.
It wasn’t just the form.
The size—
Cheon Mujin’s head barely reached the monster’s waist.
Could something that big really move?
ROOOAAARRRR!!
A gut-wrenching bellow rang out as the beast pulled back its paw from Mujin’s punch.
Then—
“Hup!”
Cheon Mujin narrowed his stance, both fists close to his body, legs wide apart—and struck.
Minimal motion. Minimal force.
His target—
Pop!
—was the joints.
The beast’s elbow bone shifted with a sickening crack.
But Cheon Mujin wasn’t satisfied.
“Still not enough power.”
He’d aimed for the biggest bone, but it was too tough. He hit a smaller one, but even that didn’t dislodge completely.
Just slightly off.
Still—
“Time to change methods.”
Not like he lacked options.
“Whew…”
A bit early to show Baekwoo this—but oh well.
Exhaling lightly, loosening his muscles, Cheon Mujin faced the furious beast.
A storm of attacks was coming.
Just like back when he dropped into this place and fought those unfamiliar beings.
The same pressure as fighting demons with overwhelming physical strength.
One hit—just one—could shatter bones, tear muscle.
Through countless brushes with death, Cheon Mujin had found the correct method.
Since then, he hadn’t taken a single wound fighting brute-force demon races.
A giant punch fell from above.
Cheon Mujin caught it—drawing a small circle with his hand.
Something trembled.
The beast felt it.
Boom!
Its fist slammed into the ground.
And then—
Pop!
A sharp pain pricked its chin.
Irritating sensation.
The beast yanked its paw free and swung hard.
Trying to swat away the strange human dancing before its eyes.
But—
It missed again.
Its exposed flank stung.
Enraged, it swung both arms.
I’ll grab him and rip him in two.
It lunged.
Caught him!
Or so it thought.
“Brute-force fools always end up the same. Can’t even talk.”
The voice came—from its own shoulder.
The beast bared its fangs.
I’ll bite him!
“Same damn tricks, too.”
As it opened its maw wide—
Prick!
That damn sting again.
It reflexively snapped its jaws shut.
For the first time, it truly saw its enemy—
But didn’t realize—
That enemy was no longer looking at it.
Because in Cheon Mujin’s mind—
The beast was already dead.
