Episode 11 – The Stench of Rot is Overwhelming
Heavenly Demon.
Literally translated, it would be something like "a demon sent from heaven."
In most martial arts novels, the Heavenly Demon is depicted as the strongest being in the world, and because of that, often ends up as the protagonist's main adversary.
As a result, the Heavenly Demon is frequently portrayed as a bastard of the highest order.
"Of course, not in this case..."
The Heavenly Demon in Return of the Murim was a subversion of that cliché. His martial prowess was still the strongest, but was he innately wicked? Not really.
He was just average by Murim standards. If he ran into a bandit while walking down the road, he’d kill them on the spot, but wouldn’t go out of his way to do more than that.
Even that made him practically a saint compared to the hypocrites of the orthodox sects.
However, there was no way Yun Yeopja could have known that.
His ability had a clear limitation—it only worked on truths the target believed to be real.
When I said "Heavenly Demon bastard," I wasn’t referring to the current Heavenly Demon in Return of the Murim, but the ones from countless other wuxia stories I had read.
“May I ask where you are from?”
Yun Yeopja asked.
It was understandable. The people of the martial world were incredibly sensitive about so-called "outer sects".
The Ice Palace of the North Sea, the Beast Palace of Southern Barbaria, the Little Thunder Monastery of Tianzhu, and so on.
These outer sect forces were ostracized to the point that, in modern terms, they were treated like potential terrorists.
And among them, the most shunned of all was the Demonic Cult.
“I come from the East. I was on a mission, heading west.”
The world of Return of the Murim was a fictional land inspired by East Asian aesthetics, so it didn’t directly follow the geography of Earth.
As such, I couldn’t name a specific place. The best option was to vaguely say I came from the East.
If I dropped an actual place name, it could lead to an unnecessarily long interrogation.
In this world’s setting, the East was a place where Taoist hermits would go to cultivate in pursuit of immortality, so it had a good image.
And when people think of Korea, they think of the East—so it wasn’t exactly a lie.
After gauging the truth of my words, Yun Yeopja blinked. The blood vessels in his eyes were slightly engorged.
Using what was essentially a cheat skill was putting a strain on his body.
Apparently reaching his limit, the mysterious aura in his eyes disappeared.
Yun Yeopja clasped his fists and spoke.
“My apologies, I must have been rude upon learning you are from the East. There have been reports of the Demonic Cult's minions being active in the martial world lately, so I may have overreacted.”
Yun Yeopja wasn’t a bad person. If anything, he was rather naive.
Once he decided to trust someone, he’d spill the entire backstory like this.
Usually, people from prominent orthodox sects are twisted and malicious, but he wasn’t.
Maybe this was the strength of the prestigious Kunlun Sect.
“It’s nothing. By the way, did you say minions of the Demonic Cult?”
“Yes.”
Yun Yeopja sighed as he continued.
“Have you heard of the Black Shadow Corps?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of them. The Demonic Cult’s elite force.”
“A Sichuan intelligence agency reported seeing a group of people in black clothing moving together. A flying messenger arrived with the report this morning.”
“You bastard, seriously...”
I grumbled at Skybreaker Sword. Skybreaker had no response, as if it knew it had no excuse. It just shivered slightly.
“The Murim Alliance is on high alert, worried that the Demonic Cult may be preparing for a resurgence.”
“Haha, with the Sword Saint standing guard over the martial world, that seems unlikely.”
At my words, Yun Yeopja smiled slightly.
“You're right. The Sword Saint is truly a hero and role model for all martial artists.”
No, he isn’t.
That’s what I wanted to say, but looking at Yun Yeopja’s innocent smile, I could only sigh.
Sword Saint Maeng Wihak.
A man with such sublime martial arts that there wasn’t a single martial artist, orthodox or unorthodox, who didn’t respect him.
He was known for being righteous and loyal, but in truth, he was the very embodiment of the hypocrisy of the orthodox sects.
The villain among villains, though the world revered him as a protector of Murim.
“Since we’ve crossed paths like this, may I have the honor of escorting you? Please allow me to make amends for my earlier discourtesy.”
[We have a long journey ahead. It would be better to return quickly.]
Skybreaker’s voice rang out in opposition.
Understandable—he was Demonic Cult to the bone, and Yun Yeopja, being of the orthodox sects, likely made him uneasy.
But I thought differently.
This was an opportunity.
Yun Yeopja was an elite disciple of the prestigious Kunlun Sect.
In the latter half of the novel, during the great war, he would grow into one of Kunlun’s top experts.
Establishing a connection with him now would be like gaining a valuable insurance policy—one with an excellent guarantee.
“If you put it that way, how could I refuse? Hahaha.”
“I’m relieved. There’s a nice inn in Taeryeong-hyeon just ahead.”
“Thank you. Shall we board the carriage?”
“I would love to, but...”
Yun Yeopja rolled up his sleeves and showed both his forearms. He was wearing thick, black bracelets.
“Because of my training, I wear these heavy iron weights.
A horse probably wouldn’t be able to handle me. Each one weighs about 100 geun (approx. 60kg).”
“Also, I’ve got them on both ankles too. Hahaha!”
That’s 240kg total.
And he was moving around like that was nothing? So cheerfully?
Strange. Even the novel didn’t describe that.
Well, you probably have to be that insane to reach the Transcendent Peak realm at such a young age.
Murim warriors really are monsters.
“If you follow this road, it’s about a half-day’s ride along the main route. I’ll stop by the sect headquarters to report to the elders and join you later at Cheonghwa Inn.”
“And you, sir?”
“Running is easier for me. See you in half a day!”
Yun Yeopja gave a respectful salute, then stomped the ground.
A deep footprint was left in the hard earth, and he soared into the sky like a bird.
Flap—
His robe fluttered as he twisted in midair, then as if stepping on invisible platforms, he leapt again.
In an instant, he vanished into the sky like a black dot.
That’s the Kunlun Sect’s Unyielding Dragon Eight Steps.
Said to be modeled after the image of a dragon freely dancing through the clouds.
It was basically a human airplane.
If someone can jump through the sky wearing 240kg of iron weights, they really are a daoist immortal.
If he removed those weights and fought, not even Saweol could beat him.
Even within the same realm, there were vast differences in power.
But more importantly—
“What the hell is this?”
“To insult the Supreme is punishable by summary execution, even if you're a Lord.”
Saweol had her sword pressed against my neck.
Internally, I cursed in surprise. I hadn’t even noticed her draw her sword.
Behind her, Tak Horak had drawn his spear. His face was filled with confusion.
Even though I’d whispered, masters like Saweol and Tak Horak must have overheard.
“That was just a lowly Kunlun warrior. Even if we erased him, how dare you sully the name of the Supreme?”
Murim warriors were all the same—bullies to the weak, cowards to the strong.
Especially those in the Demonic Cult, who worship strength above all.
I had to act strong here—to ensure they never thought of baring their fangs again.
“Do you even understand your place?”
“What?”
“That man is Yun Yeopja, disciple of Kunlun’s greatest swordsman. From what I saw, he’s mastered over 90% of Unyielding Dragon Eight Steps. Faster than an eagle—do you think you can catch him?”
“But, my lord, you have Sword Flight!”
“Of course.”
I raised Skybreaker Sword into the air.
“But this is Kunlun’s home turf. If, by chance, he sheds his iron restraints and escapes, and it becomes known that not only is the Black Shadow Corps active, but that I can use Sword Flight—what do you think will happen?”
Saweol and Tak Horak couldn’t answer.
“To the martial world that already grits its teeth at us Demonic Cultists, we’ll become targets in a Heaven-Net trap.
And then, I guarantee...”
I looked coldly at both of them.
“I will survive. You will die.”
“To save my subordinates, I would deny the Supreme a thousand times if needed.”
At my words, Saweol and Tak Horak were struck dumb.
Tak Horak looked so moved he was on the verge of tears.
Even Saweol seemed at a loss for words, probably wondering what’s with this guy?
[You really are shameless.]
The shameless survive.
And one more thing.
“Yun Yeopja was born with the innate ability to distinguish truth from lies. Avoid speaking in front of him when possible.”
“That’s why lies... but, my lord, how did you escape his ability?”
At Tak Horak’s question, I scoffed.
“You just have to be stronger than it.”
“As expected!”
Tak Horak nodded fervently, tears now freely falling.
Such an easy guy to handle.
He was barely mentioned in Return of the Murim, but he embodied the Demonic Cult’s principle of respecting strength more than anyone.
Stoic Saweol simply lowered her head.
And with that, we rode the carriage toward Taeryeong-hyeon.
***
Taeryeong-hyeon was more distinctive than expected.
As a gateway to the western regions, it was filled with people in all kinds of strange clothing.
Cheonghwa Inn was located right in the heart of Taeryeong-hyeon.
“Welcome!”
The innkeeper’s assistant greeted us warmly.
I stood with my hands behind my back while Tak Horak took care of everything—from securing the carriage to arranging the rooms.
No wonder rich folks always have secretaries.
I had more than enough money. The Sado family was the wealthiest among the Six Great Demonic Clans.
“Saweol, Tak Horak. Wait downstairs.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Better to keep them out of Yun Yeopja’s sight entirely.
I was escorted to the top floor.
Climbing the spiral staircase, I arrived at the fifth floor, which overlooked the city.
It had only a few tables—clearly a VIP area.
“Ah...”
I let out a sigh without thinking.
It was because I saw the people sitting on the other side.
Five young men and women—four men, one woman. All wearing swords. Definitely martial artists.
The woman’s gaze followed me as soon as I stepped onto the stairs.
The men beside her, who had been chatting, followed her gaze to me.
Well, Sado Hwan’s face was good-looking. He drew eyes wherever he went.
That was the problem.
The men’s eyes were sparking with jealousy.
Return of the Murim was a world ruled by clichés. There were groups you should never interact with in an inn.
First: A man silently drinking in a corner wearing a bamboo hat.
Second: An old man with missing front teeth laughing, “Keuk keuk keuk” or “Heul heul heul.”
Third: A group of young male and female martial artists.
Especially the third—if there’s only one woman, it’s even more dangerous.
Nine out of ten times, the guys will try to pick a fight to win back the girl’s attention.
Just like now.
One of the men stood up abruptly and approached me.
He had a prominent forehead vein—meaning he was likely a second- or first-rate expert.
Still weaker than a typical Black Shadow Corps grunt, but strong enough to throw his weight around in a city like Taeryeong-hyeon.
Judging by his attire, he looked like the son of a local official. Hence the confidence.
He sized me up from head to toe, then smirked and spoke.
“Never seen you before. You’re not from around here, are you?”
An unpleasantly rude tone.
Picking a fight with someone you just met isn’t normal, but in a cliché-driven world like Return of the Murim, anything goes.
I should’ve realized when I agreed to meet in an inn.
Or at least brought Yun Yeopja.
If they saw he was from Kunlun, these small fries wouldn’t have dared approach.
“Are you ignoring me, the great son of Commander So?”
Since I didn’t say anything, the guy—Seo In-geol—flushed red with anger.
I was debating what to do.
Waiting for Yun Yeopja was risky, but calling Saweol was out of the question—her martial arts were too obviously demonic.
Tak Horak, with his fiery temper, was even worse.
“I can’t reveal Sword Flight...”
If I used Sword Flight, even Yun Yeopja would be forced to re-investigate me.
Worse, I’d draw attention from the entire martial world.
It’d be like killing a chicken with a dragon-slaying sword—pointless and dangerous.
That’s when I had a good idea.
There was still one item I hadn’t used in real combat.
I pulled out the black folding fan at my waist and flicked it open a few times.
“The stench of rot is overwhelming.”
“What?”
“Every time you open your mouth, that rotten stench gets worse.”
“You bastard!”
Seo In-geol reached for his sword.
I sent my internal energy to my eyes and spoke.
“If you draw that sword, you die.”
Seo In-geol met my gaze and hesitated, but he had already committed—his face twisted in defiance.
“Let’s see you try!”
Seo In-geol drew his sword.
And the next moment—
“Kuhugh!”
Seo In-geol coughed up blood and collapsed.