Episode 87 – The Method to Kill the Heavenly Demon
Who is the Heavenly Demon?
The pinnacle of the Heavenly Demon Cult, a being who embodies the absolute ideal of "the strong reign supreme."
A demon of the heavens, the Supreme One of all demons, and a god-like figure revered by all followers of the cult.
One must always speak his name with reverence and fear, cautiously and respectfully.
And yet, they’re researching how to kill such a being?
Even more shocking—this is being done by the Six Demon Families?
“You get it now?”
[Not at all... I never imagined they'd entertain such blasphemy.]
“I kind of figured.”
After all, I’m a veteran reader of Return of the Murim.
“Is it because of the Heavenly Demon Blood Massacre?”
“Tch. You’re too quick-witted—it’s no fun. But yes, that’s right.”
As expected, I was right.
“You already know that, up until a hundred years ago, the Heavenly Demon Cult’s main base was still in the Martial World.”
Back then, the cult’s base was in Gansu Province. Though still considered a frontier by Martial World standards, it wasn’t as remote as it is now—out past Xinjiang and virtually cut off from the outside world.
“Since martial artists naturally pursue strength, the cult’s ideology of ‘the strong reign supreme’ made it practically the dominant power in all of Martial World.”
“I’m sure that also meant they attracted a ton of riffraff.”
“There you go again with that mouth of yours. Anyway, the Heavenly Demon Cult, at the peak of its glory, collapsed into what it is now due to a single incident.”
“The Heavenly Demon Blood Massacre, I assume.”
“Correct. The Heavenly Demon Blood Massacre.”
Even the cult members refer to it openly by that name, which shows just how traumatic and shocking the event was.
It was the Fourth Heavenly Demon—Cheon Yuhak—who unleashed the slaughter.
As the legitimate successor of the cult and its Supreme Leader, Cheon Yuhak was not only a Transcendent Peak master but also a universally acknowledged top martial artist in all of Martial World—even recognized by outsiders.
The cult’s explosive expansion during his reign wasn’t due to aggressive conquest, but because of Cheon Yuhak’s overwhelming strength.
Then, one day, he suddenly secluded himself with his five disciples, claiming he had found the key to a new realm.
A year passed in seclusion.
When Cheon Yuhak reappeared, he had become a monster.
A being who had lost all reason, driven only by instincts for destruction and slaughter.
He rampaged diagonally across Martial World—from Gansu to Shaanxi, to Hubei, to Jiangxi, and finally to Zhejiang—leaving devastation in his wake.
The estimated death toll among martial artists: over twenty thousand.
The number of annihilated sects: more than 470.
And all of it done by Cheon Yuhak alone.
No one could stop him.
If he hadn’t self-destructed from failing to withstand his own power, the damage would have been far worse.
Ironically, that catastrophe also triggered the current golden age of Martial World.
Peace had made the world complacent, but the shock of that brief “war” awakened the martial world once more.
In contrast—
“The cult became public enemy number one. Just being known as a cultist was enough to get you hunted down. Martial artists were torn to shreds. Civilians were stoned to death. That’s why the Fifth Heavenly Demon relocated the cult’s base to Mount Ten Thousand Demon Peaks—its original birthplace.”
“So, the issue lies with the Heavenly Demon who caused all that?”
Cheol Muguk shook his head. Despite reeking of alcohol, his expression turned grave as he continued.
“The problem isn’t the Heavenly Demon himself. The issue is: what do you do when someone with overwhelming power appears—someone you can’t resist? That’s the real concern. And the closest example of that kind of existence is the Heavenly Demon. So the research into killing him... it was called ‘Heaven Killing’—The Heavenly Demon Killing Method.”
“So it’s not just about the cult. A threat like that appearing outside the cult is just as dangerous.”
“Exactly. That’s the point.”
If there’s only one tenet that defines the cult, it’s the strong reign supreme.
And yet, in a place that worships power, they’re worried about someone becoming too powerful.
It’s a paradox.
“Who suffered the most from the Blood Massacre? It was the cult itself. And yet, the number of top-tier masters in the cult remains enormous. Why do you think that is?”
“They shared the research at the Six Families Gathering... and distributed the knowledge among themselves.”
“Correct. That’s why so many Transcendent Peak masters are concentrated in the Six Demon Families.”
“So what began as a gathering to seek strength... changed over time into something else. The research let them cultivate more experts. The more experts, the firmer their control. Even while publicly insulting each other, the Six Demon Families remained united—that’s why.”
At my words, Cheol Muguk gave me a look of mild surprise.
“How old did you say you were again? Just over twenty?”
“Does age matter?”
“With insight like that? It doesn’t match your years. At your age, Sopeyong was just a hot-headed brat.”
For a second, I almost laughed—wondering if that’s why Sopeyong lost all his hair.
“Anyway. As you said, the original intent of the Six Families Gathering has been twisted. What started as a pursuit of strength turned into a den of political infighting.”
“So in the past, there must’ve been a lot of actual fighting, too?”
“Oh, definitely. They used to go at it—no hierarchy, just fists and blades. Some clan heads even died in the process.”
Good news for me.
At least now, they don’t literally fight at the gathering. If they did, I’d be the first one skewered.
“These days, only I and Gwak Riyeon try to remember the original intent... the others, tsk.”
Yeah, I could understand that just thinking about the rest of the Six Demon Families.
“The Chu Clan, sure. But the Jin Clan and Hyuk Clan—do they know the truth of the Six Families Gathering too?”
“They’re the real problem. After Do Il-gwang disappeared, the Gwanghyeoldo Clan and the Janghyeol Clan filled the gap—and now all they care about is grabbing the crumbs.”
“Still...”
“Still?”
“Thanks to you, that balance might finally return. The Sado Clan will walk the true path of the Six Demon Families again. Don’t you think?”
He wasn’t wrong.
Sado Gwang wouldn’t have ignored the Six Families Gathering either. If he could squeeze out profit, he’d wring water from a dry rag.
That was the kind of greedy man Sado Gwang was.
Cheol Muguk’s implication was obvious.
I nodded.
“But there’s something I still don’t understand.”
“What is it?”
“How do you even begin researching a method to fight a monster like Cheon Yuhak from 100 years ago?”
It’s not like they had video recordings back then.
Not that a camera would’ve captured him properly anyway.
Even I couldn’t say for sure—having only read about it in Return of the Murim—but would someone capable of nearly destroying Martial World single-handedly even appear properly on film?
“Or... are they basing their research on the current Heavenly Demon?”
That’s actually a long-standing topic among readers of Return of the Murim.
Who was stronger?
Lee Seryeong—the current Heavenly Demon with unrivaled talent?
Or Cheon Yuhak—the instigator of the Blood Massacre 100 years ago?
Even as someone who considers himself a top-tier fan, I couldn’t answer confidently.
Sure, Lee Seryeong is considered the strongest in the world now...
At my comment, Cheol Muguk chuckled meaningfully.
“You’ll find out... when you reach Janhondo.”
He said it like he’d just scored a victory. He clearly wanted me to beg for details. But I couldn’t do that.
I’d built up a whole persona by now—suddenly acting weak would only make things worse for me.
“I see.”
“I see? That’s all you’ve got?”
“What more do you want?”
This is what I’d call: 'I can stay calm in any situation.'
No—it’s just that I’m bad at this.
“Anyway. Joking aside, you should come fully prepared.
More than anything, keep your mind sharp.”
“My mind?”
“I’ve never reached the Transcendent Peak, so I can’t say for sure... but Sopeyong once said that the moment you see those things, you could lose your soul.”
Ever since facing even a fragment of the Heavenly Demon’s Mental Domain, I’ve rarely lost focus.
I may not have had grand epiphanies or breakthroughs, but I’d gained something nonetheless.
Cheol Muguk was clearly trying to bait me with his mysterious “those things,” but I wasn’t biting.
“You really won’t play along, huh? Can’t you humor an old man just a little?”
“Don’t call yourself old when you could pass for the younger brother of the Iron Mountain Clan’s heir.”
“Young Clan Head, huh... Tch.”
Cheol Muguk poured the last of the alcohol into his cup and downed it in one gulp.
He was probably feeling sentimental—his grandson was in his mid-20s now.
“Oh, that reminds me. I stopped by the Demon Medical Hall recently. The Demon Doctor asked about you.”
“About me?”
“He seemed... interested.”
That was unexpected.
The Demon Doctor and Poison Demon are rivals. Not sworn enemies, but close enough to throw profanities at each other with a smile.
So I didn’t expect him to seek me out, especially since I’d aligned with the Poison Demon.
I should probably avoid him if I can.
The Poison Demon is selfish but pragmatic—he’ll turn a blind eye if something benefits him.
But the Demon Doctor is different. He’s like a kinder version of a mad scientist. He might do anything for the sake of medical progress.
If he finds out I can’t use internal energy, I’m done for.
“Why don’t you go see him?”
“I don’t see a reason to.”
“You cultists and your pride... That arrogance will bite you one day. Don’t forget—there are those outside the hierarchy.”
“No need to worry.”
The cult operates on a strict rank-based system. Power determines position. But not everyone is part of that system.
Cheol Muguk was pointing that out.
Still, I wasn’t concerned.
Those outside the ranks never reveal themselves—until war breaks out. And by then, I’d be long gone from the cult anyway.
“Well, if anyone could handle them, it’d be you... Bah, what am I doing worrying about someone else when I have my own problems?”
Standing up, Cheol Muguk pulled out a small ornate box and handed it to me.
“I drank some of the best liquor I’ve had in my life thanks to you. It’s only fair I give something in return. Open it.”
I opened the box—and inside was a dark-colored bracelet.
“This is...?”
“A treasured relic forged personally by a Heaven-grade blacksmith. It’s made entirely of Unma Steel. You couldn’t trade this for gold—it’s priceless.”
If a Heaven-grade blacksmith poured their heart into it, then this truly was a valuable item.
All I gave him was some alcohol I barely even drank myself.
“I’ll accept it gratefully.”
“You’re not going to ask what it does?”
“Oh.”
“You’ve got all this insight, but sometimes you miss the obvious. Drip some blood on it.”
Using blood to activate a relic was the standard process.
I unsheathed Skybreaker Sword and made a shallow cut on my palm. In the real world, I’d flinch at a blood donation needle, but after nearly dying so often, this felt like nothing.
When my blood touched the Unma Steel bracelet, a brilliant light flashed.
“Its name is Guardian Armring. If you channel internal energy into it, it expands according to your power level—creating a massive, solid shield.
Since it’s made of pure Unma Steel, it can block even qi-enhanced attacks.”
“Well? Aren’t you going to try it out?”
Ah.
This was bad.
Some treasured relics, like Skybreaker Sword or the Black Feather Fan, work without internal energy—but most require it to activate.
Not showing it off in front of the creator would be suspicious...
And if Cheol Muguk realized my secret, I couldn’t count on his support anymore.
He’d probably go ballistic.
He might even literally breathe fire and roast me alive.
Panicking, I grabbed the Guardian Armring.
My still-bleeding wound brushed against the relic again—
Drrrrrrrrrr—
KWAANG—!
“?!”
A colossal black wall exploded upward, piercing through Cheol Muguk’s forge.