Episode 10 – That Heavenly Demon Dog…
Deep within a forest so dense that ordinary people could hardly pass through it, a man dressed in luxurious silk stood before a collapsed cave.
At most, he appeared to be in his late twenties—a handsome man. But what was unusual was his white hair, which gave him an unearthly, almost inhuman mystique.
Staring blankly at the mouth of the cave, he nonchalantly drew his sword and swung it.
A casual swing, as if it meant nothing.
Yet from the sword, a dazzling white energy burst forth—so radiant, it could be called brilliant. It struck the cave's debris.
In that moment—
The pile of rocks blocking the cave disappeared in an instant.
A shocking truth: the rubble wasn’t pushed back or shattered, but had simply vanished.
Not even a tremor or a sound remained.
Only the cross-sections of the debris sizzled, as if they were melting.
The man calmly sheathed his sword and walked forward.
The first thing to greet him was the stench—a pungent, nose-wrinkling odor.
Decaying corpses lay scattered everywhere.
He approached one and inspected it, then nodded to himself and headed deeper into the cave.
A ritual altar.
Around it, people in black robes were busily moving about as if examining something.
Not a sound or aura had been released, so until the man reached close to the altar, no one had noticed his presence.
When they finally saw him, the black-robed men jumped in shock.
“Who are you!?”
The man didn’t respond, instead calmly surveying the area.
Seven people.
Smirk—
“So this was where that stench was coming from. Demonic cult bastards were wandering around. Such filthy and dark energy.”
“I asked who you are!”
“How dare you!”
Though his eyes were clear, a vivid madness flickered within them.
“To think a demonic dog would dare step foot on the lands of the martial world.”
The man drew his sword. That brilliant white light blazed again. It was like watching the sun rise.
The black-robed men gasped in horror at the sight.
“T-That sword… It’s the Sword Saint—!”
They didn’t finish their words. Their bodies had already burst into flames.
They couldn’t even scream before death claimed them.
***
The man clicked his tongue and approached the altar. The very altar that contained the writings on the Soul Separation Technique.
But it was already fractured in several places and no longer usable.
“What a waste of a valuable piece.”
His sword again shimmered with white light, and the altar melted away.
That day—
The entire unnamed forest went up in flames from an unknown fire.
One black-robed man, hidden and watching with bated breath, survived.
He had gone outside to release a messenger pigeon, which happened to save his life.
[Soul Separation Technique. Sword Saint has appeared.]
The pigeon took flight.
***
<Return of the Murim> was an unprecedented hit.
And that was only natural—because <Return of the Murim> had crammed in every single martial arts cliché imaginable.
As they say, familiarity is what makes things irresistible.
Why am I bringing this up?
“Stop there! This is the territory of the Tohwang Stronghold!”
“Wahaha! Hand over everything you’ve got!”
“Leave your carriage, and we’ll let you live!”
Again. Again. Again.
Bandits. For the fourth time now.
A martial arts cliché.
The protagonist, on the road, runs into bandits.
Seriously, how many people live in this world? Why are there so many damn bandits? If it were a well-traveled road, maybe, but this was a nearly deserted path.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Do so. Let’s leave it to Squad Leader Tak.”
“Yes.”
Almost immediately after Saweol responded, the bandits' screams rang out. Tak Horak had charged out.
“Spare me!”
“Uaaaagh!”
He wasn’t even killing them—just paralyzing them with pressure point strikes—and they were wailing like that.
“Damn demonic cult bastards!”
[Insolent fools.]
‘Hey, I’m a “monster,” remember.’
[Then don’t speak.]
All of this was happening because our group belonged to the Demonic Cult—well, the Heavenly Demon Cult.
Since we couldn’t go around advertising that, Saweol, Tak Horak, and I traveled separately in a small group.
I specifically brought Tak Horak along because I couldn’t be sure what Saweol might try if we were alone.
Being such a small group, we seemed like easy prey, and flies were swarming.
The Black Shadow Corps was the representative military force of the Cult. The term representative was a bit ambiguous, though.
It wasn’t that they lacked accomplishments or skills. As seen in the Soul Separation cave incident, they were adept at tracking and assassination.
But did they lack combat power? Not exactly.
Vice-Captain Saweol was a fully matured Peak-level expert, and squad leaders like Tak Horak hovered around the upper levels of first-rate.
Even being first-rate was enough to be considered one of the top fighters in any region. Even third-rate fighters could swagger around like warlords in small towns.
Of course, they had their moments of incompetence—like with Dok So-gong—but that was mostly because I hadn’t told them anything. Minor detail.
Anyway, what truly made the Black Shadow Corps famous was something else.
They were completely clad in black.
Not just eccentrics obsessed with the color black—they were head-to-toe in it.
Clothes, masks, shoes, sword sheaths, handles, even their carriages and horses—all black.
Oh, and even their food bowls, chopsticks, and spoons were black.
It was overkill.
“This is all your fault.”
[When one reveres demonic power, black is the—]
“Shut up.”
This was all because Sado Hwan liked the color black.
Even the Skybreaker Sword was black. At this point, you could say he was obsessed.
Still, the Black Shadow Corps benefitted from it.
In the martial world, the most important thing was reputation. And they had earned that instantly.
But it became a problem when entering public areas.
A bunch of people covered in black head-to-toe walking around was basically shouting, “We’re the Black Shadow Corps!” through a megaphone.
The moment any martial artist saw them, a kill squad would be assembled and a heavenly net cast to capture them.
Just for being part of the Cult.
So in the end, only Saweol, Tak Horak, and I were traveling with the carriage and horses. We changed our clothes, too.
The rest of the Black Shadow Corps was following us from half a day behind, spread out to avoid detection.
It drew less attention, sure—but the problem was that even more riffraff kept showing up.
A small group traveling with a carriage? Easy target.
Just like these bandits.
“How far are we from the Cult?”
“About seven days and nights remain.”
“Seven days, huh.”
By my estimate, we’d probably run into three more sets of bandits.
[Why concern yourself with such rabble? They’re nothing but ignorant scum.]
“I know.”
It wasn’t that I was afraid of bandits. If I fought them myself, fine. Even if it was annoying, a few words from me and Saweol or Tak Horak would handle it.
But I was worried because this was the cliché-ridden world of <Return of the Murim>.
According to martial arts cliché—
Where there are bandits, there is always a righteous sect’s young hero nearby.
“The young hero rids the land of mountain bandits and defends the innocent.”
A cliché proven by centuries of martial arts stories.
We were already moving with minimal personnel to avoid attention. If we ran into such a young hero…
It would be a disaster.
Especially since this was Qinghai Province—the territory of the Kunlun Sect.
One of the Nine Great Sects of the martial world, and the vanguard guardians facing the Cult.
When it came to the Cult, Kunlun was even more tenacious than the Tang Clan.
Worse still, Kunlun’s young heroes possessed troublesome abilities.
It was best to avoid them at all costs—
Just then.
[Someone is approaching.]
Saweol’s voice rang through my ear via sound transmission. She must have sensed something unsettling to send it that way.
I subtly peeked through the carriage window.
Of course, my bad feeling was never wrong.
A young man was walking toward us. I hoped he was just passing by—but no, he was coming straight for us.
His long hair was tied up in a heroic topknot, and he wore a deep-blue martial robe embroidered with a white dragon.
Just the dragon alone made it obvious.
Kunlun Sect.
And he was as handsome as Sado Hwan. As with most NovelBins, nearly all major characters in <Return of the Murim> were stunningly attractive.
Young, from Kunlun, and that good-looking—
As a fan of <Return of the Murim>, I recognized him instantly.
The man looked between the bandits and our group, then smiled faintly.
“I am a Taoist from Kunlun, Yun Yeopja. Might I greet the esteemed one inside the carriage?”
Just as I feared—it was him.
I couldn’t avoid this.
This would be different from before.
Until now, I’d had to assert my identity as a powerful person—exuding all the “Cult-like” energy to earn the trust of Saweol and the Black Shadow Corps.
But not now.
Yun Yeopja.
The Kunlun Sect’s most prized young hero.
He would later die gloriously at the frontlines of the war with the Cult—but he was strong.
By the time the war arc hit, power inflation exploded. While the Transcendent Peak realm once meant dominating an entire region, by then almost everyone had it.
Yun Yeopja eventually displayed that level too.
Which meant that for now, he was probably just at the early Peak stage.
‘Still, I can’t take him lightly. Even Saweol wouldn’t be confident.’
That’s because Yun Yeopja was the inheritor of Kunlun’s Eight Forms of the Cloud Dragon.
A movement technique inspired by the soaring of dragons. As the name suggests, it allowed movement through the air.
Not full flight—but near-flight level agility and speed.
We couldn’t match it. Saweol’s movement technique was unmatched in stealth, but had limitations in speed and range.
So this time, I needed to appear just powerful enough—not too much, not too little.
Most importantly, I couldn’t let off even a hint of Cult-like energy.
“Huu…”
I took a deep breath and circulated my inner energy.
Confidence surged, and I opened the door and stepped out.
Yun Yeopja greeted me with a cupped fist.
“Greetings. I am Yun Yeopja.”
When making a first impression, voice matters just as much as looks. I had the looks—so now I needed a trustworthy voice.
A calm, low tone. Not forced. Like a coffee commercial narrator.
“Hello. My name is Kim Dong-yun. I’ve heard much of Kunlun’s renown. Pleased to meet you, Taoist Yun Yeopja.”
For the first time in a while, I used my real name.
Though I lived as Sado Hwan, that was just a shell.
Inside was the modern man—Kim Dong-yun.
“Taoist? That’s too much.”
“A venerable Taoist of Kunlun deserves the title.”
“Are you the one who dealt with the local bandits, Mr. Kim?”
“I am.”
“I heard reports of bandit massacres near Seonyeong, and came to investigate. But I see you've spared them.”
If it’s near Seonyeong, that must’ve been Dok So-gong’s doing.
Feigning ignorance, I smiled and said,
“Even bandits are living beings. Rather than kill them, I prefer to offer guidance.”
“Merciful indeed.”
Yun Yeopja nodded, then continued.
“If I may be blunt—your surname is quite unusual.”
“I’m from a distant borderland.”
His eyes flashed at that. A strange blue light—not something human eyes should have.
That was why I said Kunlun’s young heroes were so troublesome.
Yun Yeopja had the ability to discern lies.
In <Return of the Murim>, some characters had special abilities like this. The best-known being the Sword Saint, the leader of the Murim Alliance.
They could, supposedly, see qi with their eyes.
Such people were rare—even among the countless characters in <Return of the Murim>, you could count them on one hand.
Yun Yeopja, realizing I was telling the truth, asked another question.
“If you're from the borderlands… Could you be from the Demonic Cult?”
He really dove straight in.
I stepped closer to him.
Yun Yeopja’s hand moved to his sword.
“I have no intention of attacking.”
Sensing I was telling the truth, he backed off.
I leaned in close—so Saweol and Tak Horak wouldn’t hear—and whispered in his ear with a sly grin:
“Heavenly Demon bastard.”
“That damn Heavenly Demon, I’ll tear him apart.”
“Heavenly Demon…”
“That’s enough. You’re clearly not from the Demon Cult.”
I cursed….so what?
The “Heavenly Demon” I cursed just now was from a completely different novel.