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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Tradition (2)
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"Did you just call this rowdiness?"
Staring at Cheong-hwa Madam as she shot me a venomous glare, I felt a strange mix of emotions.
Her face resembled that little kid Seon-a's, but the atmosphere around the cute child and her mother couldn't have been more different.
'Is it really all in the eyes?'
I shook off the irrelevant thought and addressed Cheong-hwa Madam.
"Not content with barging in without permission, you scolded someone else's maidservant right in front of the master of the house. If that's not rowdiness, then what is?"
"Young Master disregarded the Divine Cult's traditions first, did you not?"
A sneer curled at the corner of my mouth at her retort.
"Then why not come properly, with decorum, and explain the traditions to me? You said your maidservant was riding on the Heavenly Demon's coattails, but what you're doing right now is no different—riding on the Hyeok-ryeon Clan's name for the same purpose."
"...."
Cheong-hwa Madam, who had seemed ready to argue, clenched her teeth and glared at me the moment I brought up my master.
I had no idea what tradition she was talking about, but the moment she threw her weight around with me, the Heavenly Demon's disciple, the justification was mine.
Realizing this too late, she lowered her head and said,
"I lost my composure for a moment and committed a breach of etiquette."
But that was just the bare minimum show of respect for the onlookers around us.
Her tone had grown polite, but her eyes remained ice-cold.
'I should let it go here.'
If I kept pressing after she'd bowed her head, the justification would shift to her side.
"I accept your apology. Then, could you explain what that tradition you mentioned is? If it truly is my fault, I will apologize to you as well."
For some reason, Cheong-hwa Madam hesitated at my words before glancing subtly toward Seon-a.
'Hm?'
It was an odd sensation.
For an instant, affection and pity softened the eyes of this vicious woman.
'What's this?'
According to what Seon-a had told me, she barely felt like a mother at all.
She gave the girl not even a shred of maternal love, to the point that the child called that doll clutched in her arms "Mommy."
"This is not a conversation suitable for Seon-a's ears. Could we speak privately?"
But Cheong-hwa Madam had already turned back, fixing me once more with her usual frigid gaze.
* * *
In the end, Cheong-hwa Madam and I headed to an empty room in Wind Rock Hall.
Jin Ha-yeon had grabbed some tea and come along just in case, while Cheong-hwa Madam brought one guard with her.
"So, what is this tradition that you can't even tell the person it concerns—Seon-a herself?"
At my question, Cheong-hwa Madam took a sip of tea before speaking.
"It is a long-standing tradition of the Divine Cult to avoid contact with the daughters of the Hyeok-ryeon Clan."
The absurdity of it left me momentarily speechless.
"…May I ask the reason?"
"It's because of the demonic art Seon-a is cultivating."
"You mean the Hyeok-ryeon Clan's demonic art—the Blood Shadow Eighteen Swords?"
"The Blood Shadow Eighteen Swords is the technique the sons of the Hyeok-ryeon Clan cultivate. The daughters learn a demonic art called the Blood Fox Crimson Claw Art."
"And the side effect of this Blood Fox Crimson Claw Art is so severe that even a child like her must be kept at a distance?"
"The side effect is simple: excessive attachment."
"...."
Before I could respond, Cheong-hwa Madam continued her explanation.
"Once they form an attachment to something, they show anxiety if that object is even slightly separated from them. And if anything goes wrong with it, they often lose their minds entirely."
"So you deliberately keep your distance to avoid becoming the object of that attachment?"
"That's right. The easiest target for attachment is usually another person. But people can't stay together forever. And people get injured or fall ill at any time. Especially those in our Heavenly Demon Divine Cult."
I understood to some extent, but questions remained.
"Even if everyone avoids her, that doesn't make the side effect of the demonic art go away, does it?"
"That's precisely why they avoid her. Until she attaches to something that isn't human. After a few years of everyone keeping their distance, she'll naturally form an attachment to a doll, a pillow, or perhaps an accessory like a hairpin."
As Cheong-hwa Madam explained, the doll that Seon-a carried around—the one she called "Mommy"—immediately came to mind.
"Seon-a began cultivating the Blood Fox Crimson Claw Art last year. Before entering the Demonic Path Academy, to ensure she attaches to an object rather than a person. And until the daughters of the Hyeok-ryeon Clan develop an attachment to something else, it has been the tradition for everyone in the Divine Cult to avoid them."
Having finished her explanation, Cheong-hwa Madam took another sip of tea and looked at me.
Her eyes seemed to ask if I now understood my mistake.
But that explanation would only make sense to those brainwashed by this insane cult.
'Fuck. This is just child abuse.'
Honestly, even as I was locked in a staring contest with Cheong-hwa Madam, a corner of my mind had been uneasy.
What if there was some seriously grave tradition? What if I'd caused a massive incident?
That kind of unease.
But after hearing the explanation, that space was now filled only with disgust.
"…Judging by the fact that you insisted on speaking away from the child, it seems Seon-a doesn't know about this tradition yet?"
"If we tell her about the side effects in advance, it would interfere with her attaching to an object instead of a person."
Rage boiled within me at Cheong-hwa Madam's attitude, as if it were unavoidable.
Was it pity for the poor child? Or perhaps a sense of shared pain.
I, too, had been dragged here by my master against my will, forced to learn a demonic art that would drive me mad.
On top of that, like Seon-a, I was trapped in this prison called Wind Rock Hall, under Jin Ha-yeon's watch, devoting myself solely to training and study in this godforsaken life.
But.
'At least I was given a choice.'
That child had no choice—she simply had to live this way because she was born into the Hyeok-ryeon Clan.
Perhaps mistaking my hardened expression for acceptance,
"It seems Young Master understands now, so we shall take our leave."
As Cheong-hwa Madam and her guard turned to open the door and exit, my mind was a tangled mess.
My mood was foul beyond words, yet this was a long-standing tradition of this insane cult—what was I supposed to do?
Lost in such complicated thoughts,
"Let's go."
At Cheong-hwa Madam's cold voice, the cowering child turned her head to look at me.
Seeing the desperate plea in that little girl's eyes made me despise myself for hesitating.
"Wait a moment."
"Young Master?"
I shot to my feet and approached Seon-a. Jin Ha-yeon, standing beside me, called out with a rare look of bewilderment.
Ignoring her, I hurried to Seon-a, knelt down, and met the little girl's eyes at her level.
"Seon-a. Remember that promise we made at the end earlier?"
"Promise…? Oh!"
Seon-a, tilting her oversized head for such a small body, suddenly exclaimed as if remembering.
"Th-then, can I come again tomorrow?"
"Of course. We promised, didn't we?"
I had told her before Cheong-hwa Madam burst in.
That I needed someone to talk to, so she should visit often.
And I felt the exact same way now.
"If you keep up with your clan training and studies diligently from now on, you'll be able to meet up with big brother and play."
"Eighth Young Master!!"
No sooner had I finished than Cheong-hwa Madam snarled from nearby.
"Are you truly going to disregard the Cult's traditions?!"
And I, too, bellowed back in fury.
"Shut your mouth about these bullshit traditions!"
That damn tradition. Tradition.
Hearing it over and over brought back the infuriating "customs" from my civil servant days, making my blood boil.
From the controversial "secretary rice cakes" and "Day of Serving the Section Chief" that had been issues even before I died, the civil service was rife with all sorts of traditions.
Absurd customs born from the disgustingly conservative bureaucracy.
And here, in this place, some deranged tradition like that was firmly entrenched—tormenting a child, no less.
"What's the point of the Cult teaching demonic arts in the first place?! To let the side effects consume you? Isn't it supposed to be about overcoming those side effects? Yet you create these insane traditions because of them and impose them on the entire Divine Cult—does that make any sense to you?"
At my outburst, Cheong-hwa Madam's gaze turned utterly frigid.
In a voice devoid of emotion, she asked,
"Can you take responsibility for that behavior just now? I understand Young Master must enter the Demonic Path Academy in a year, but what do you plan to do after that?"
She meant that if Seon-a became attached to me and I entered the Demonic Path Academy, what then?
She might even fall into demonic deviation from the side effects of her demonic art, simply because I'd entered the academy.
As I looked at Seon-a in response to her question, a good solution suddenly came to mind.
"I have a plan, so don't worry. If any issues arise after I enter the Demonic Path Academy, I'll take full responsibility."
* * *
That night.
In the grand hall nestled deepest within the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
In the office of the Heavenly Demon Hall—the residence of the Heavenly Demon, master of the Divine Cult—two men were holding a private meeting.
One was the Heavenly Demon, lord of the cult. The other appeared to be a man transitioning from middle age to old.
Having heard the full story from the man seated across from him, the Heavenly Demon did not reply immediately. Instead, he calmly stroked his beard and regarded the man.
Their appearances might suggest a difference of merely a dozen years or so, but to the Heavenly Demon, this elder was like a great-grandnephew, the current head of the Hyeok-ryeon Clan.
The reason they appeared so close in age despite a gap of nearly forty years was that the Heavenly Demon, having reached exalted heights, had already transformed his body twice.
But that didn't mean the Hyeok-ryeon Clan head's martial prowess was lacking.
He too had fully mastered the Hyeok-ryeon Clan's secret art, the Blood Shadow Eighteen Swords, achieving Transcending Demon—a "senior" who had undergone marrow cleansing and bone transformation, which had simply rejuvenated him somewhat.
This was one reason the cult, overrun with madmen due to the aftereffects of demonic arts, managed to function at all.
The leaders of the major clans and organizations within the cult were, for the most part, supreme masters who had cultivated powerful demonic arts to the Transcending Demon level.
Led by the Heavenly Demon, these old masters who had transcended suppressed the demonic cultists through sheer force, allowing the cult to operate.
But escaping the side effects of demonic arts didn't mean they could indifferently overlook matters that would anger any ordinary human.
Especially not the flouting of the Hyeok-ryeon Clan's traditions.
The Hyeok-ryeon Clan didn't maintain those traditions because they wanted to.
It started with minor issues like daughters forming excessive attachments to parents or siblings, neglecting their training and studies entirely.
There were countless cases of them going mad, unable to accept reality when the object of their attachment died.
And there were plenty of instances where outsiders or maidservants exploited these side effects to manipulate the clan's daughters like puppets.
The current traditions had arisen from such accumulated experiences across generations.
Cheong-hwa Madam, Seon-a's mother, and Seon-a's grandfather—the clan head who had come to confront the Heavenly Demon—both swallowed their tears and deliberately turned away from the child.
For a prestigious clan like the Hyeok-ryeon, the option of not teaching their child demonic arts didn't exist from the start. It was tradition.
The Heavenly Demon, himself from the Hyeok-ryeon Clan, knew this all too well.
Thus, the reason the Hyeok-ryeon Clan head had sought him out was not to ask for his esteemed opinion.
It was to pay last respects to the Heavenly Demon—his clan uncle—before killing his disciple.
But the words from the Heavenly Demon's mouth defied the clan head's expectations.
"Just leave it be."
"…What do you mean by that?"
The unspoken follow-up—'Does that mean the disciple you just took in ranks below the Hyeok-ryeon Clan?'—was swallowed by the clan head.
But rather than reproaching the insolence, the Heavenly Demon uttered another peculiar statement.
"Are you not curious? Whether that child can break free of the Hyeok-ryeon Clan's shackles?"
It wasn't mere favoritism toward his disciple.
The Heavenly Demon recalled the drinking gathering where his fellow disciples had met recently.
Il-mok, at such a young age, had conceived a system so profound even he hadn't thought of it.
Thus, he naturally held expectations. Perhaps the boy would come up with some profound solution this time as well.
"And if he fails?"
After a moment of contemplation, the Hyeok-ryeon Clan head asked, and the Heavenly Demon replied.
"Then handle my youngest disciple as your clan desires. On top of that, I'll take Seon-a as my new youngest disciple. I'll watch over her personally at all times to ensure her demonic art doesn't run rampant, so worry not."
At the Heavenly Demon's response, the clan head showed his first surprised expression since arriving.
"Do you trust that youngest disciple of yours that much?"
In response, the Heavenly Demon offered no answer, merely chuckling heartily and stroking his beard.
'Trust, you say. Heh heh heh.'
It wasn't trust—it was anticipation.
'Already laying the groundwork to win allies. Truly marvelous. Heh heh heh. And of all people, the Hyeok-ryeon Clan, no less.'
If he succeeded in this, the Hyeok-ryeon Clan would offer Il-mok unwavering support.
Even after he, who had lived over a hundred years, departed this world, and Il-mok could no longer be called "the Heavenly Demon's disciple."
The Heavenly Demon anticipated that Il-mok had calculated all this and acted accordingly.
'The wheels are already turning. All that remains is to await the result.'
Whether Il-mok would one day lose his life to the Hyeok-ryeon Clan, or gain the mighty tree of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult as an ally.
The Heavenly Demon eagerly awaited the outcome.