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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Snow Dissolving Peak
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Snow Dissolving Peak.
The eternal snow mountain where, in all of history, the blizzard had never ceased for even a single day.
Though it lay directly behind the Heavenly Mountains, entry was strictly forbidden to a million demonic cultivators, making it rare to spot anyone in human form. Yet on that Snow Dissolving Peak, one man was ascending without hesitation.
"This path is such a pain every damn time."
Hyeok Mulin's gaze, sharp as a drawn blade, turned downward.
Pfuk— pfuk—
With every step, his feet sank deep into the piled snow.
The fierce blizzard battered his body, sapping his body heat, and his feet had long since gone numb from the freezing cold.
But even so, he couldn't stop or turn back.
The die had been cast. The only path to survival was straight ahead.
Hyeok Mulin trudged onward in silence, his mind drifting back to the events from a few hours earlier.
—Divorce? Are you saying what I think I heard is true?
Honestly, he hadn't expected that reaction, so it caught him off guard.
She usually kept her emotions in check, always maintaining a cool, businesslike demeanor.
Even in his previous life, over decades, he'd rarely seen her expression change. But this time, unmistakable surprise had flickered across her face, however briefly.
'Well, can't blame her. It's not every day something like this happens.'
She'd probably never experienced anything as sudden as a divorce declaration.
Suppressing her feelings and not showing them would have been the weirder response in a situation like this.
Even so, Cheon Seohee soon regained her composure and stared him straight in the eye.
—You've been devoured by power after just three months. So now you're tossing the Hyeok Clan aside to save your own skin?
She seemed to assume he'd been corrupted by his position as Cult Leader and made this rash decision.
"No. It was too late coming."
But she was wrong.
After decades as a powerless puppet, unable to even utter the word divorce, he'd only mustered the courage after returning to the past.
Their experiences with time were worlds apart.
'And my home clan isn't much different.'
The main reason Hyeok Mulin had accepted the political marriage was his home clan, the Hyeok Clan.
In the past, the Hyeok Clan had led the Seven Great Demonic Families, the most envied house among all demonic cultivators.
But after losing its patriarch three hundred years ago in the Great War of Orthodox and Demonic, it had plummeted into decline. Now, it clung to the tail end of the Seven Great Demonic Families, on the brink of expulsion.
Facing that dire crisis, the Cheon Clan had extended a saving hand.
Promising solid backing and support, they proposed a political marriage to bind the two houses and elevate one side's candidate to Heavenly Demon.
In the end, with no other options, the young patriarch of the Hyeok Clan, Hyeok Mulin, joined hands with them and ascended to the powerless throne of Cult Leader.
'But as time passed, I realized it was a fatal mistake.'
What they called "binding" was no such thing—the gap between the clans was like heaven and earth, making it tantamount to outright subjugation.
To put it bluntly, the Hyeok Clan had become a vassal of the Cheon Clan, slowly marching toward a leisurely death.
It might be tough in the short term, but in the long run, severing this relationship was clearly to the Hyeok Clan's benefit.
Still, he couldn't explain all that in detail, nor was there any need to.
When he remained silent, Cheon Seohee shook her head slowly and rose from her seat.
—Very well. I've heard your intentions, husband. I'll return to my clan now.
And just before stepping out the door, she paused and spoke in a cold voice.
—But know this: you will bear the full brunt of the Cheon Clan and my father's wrath.
"...An enraged patriarch, huh."
Hyeok Mulin brushed the snow from his eyebrows.
'They won't move right away. It'll take at least a few days.'
Having heard of this unexpected upheaval, they'd observe the situation rather than act rashly.
Besides, the Cheon Clan patriarch had no sons.
So he'd married off his eldest daughter, Cheon Seohee, to him, then propped him up as Cult Leader to solidify his power as the Heavenly Demon's father-in-law.
No matter how much of a puppet Heavenly Demon he was, he couldn't just discard and replace him like a disposable tool.
Doing so would erode trust, making it impossible to use the same tactic again.
And that wouldn't benefit the patriarch either.
'Not that it puts me in a great position.'
He'd come to realize that in time.
From the outside, his daughter Cheon Seohee had been chased out without even hearing the full reason for the divorce.
By the world's eyes, he had every justification to rage.
The longer time passed, the more fiercely they'd pressure him to change his mind.
And if that failed, their final resort might be to frame him and execute him.
On the surface, the current situation didn't look optimistic.
'Even so, it had to be done.'
If he hadn't become Heavenly Demon, maybe not. But now that he was Cult Leader...
Failing to divorce first thing would mean everything around him—Hyeok Clan included—would fall under Cheon Clan control immediately: protectors, guards, enforcers, all real power.
Even if it meant clashing with them, breaking and redefining this relationship was the right call a hundred times over.
"Probably takes about ten days before they erupt in fury."
Time was on his side.
If he achieved his goal at his current destination, he'd have ample room to negotiate with the Cheon Clan—or even take the strong position himself.
First things first: reach the destination.
"Getting a bit winded."
Exhaling roughly, Hyeok Mulin loosened his stiff neck and looked ahead.
About halfway up Snow Dissolving Peak's slope lay a sheer cliff face shrouded in shadow.
Filling one side of that cliff was a massive iron gate that dominated his vision.
Over thirty feet tall.
Crafted from priceless millennium cold iron, the door evoked an overwhelming sense of grandeur in all who beheld it.
Hyeok Mulin approached and placed his hand on it.
Infusing internal energy and reciting the incantation, the door began to open on its own.
Ku-gu-gung—
The resounding rumble echoed as the door took quite some time to fully part.
Step by step.
As Hyeok Mulin passed through the entrance, the door reversed course and sealed shut behind him.
The interior was a sealed passage without windows, yet far from pitch black.
Every three paces along the straight path ahead, night pearls glowed brilliantly, lining the way.
After traversing that considerable distance, another door came into view.
"Finally here."
Halting his steps, Hyeok Mulin lightly pressed his hand to the door before him.
Kki-gi-gi-gi-gik—
With that, the door creaked open amid a cloud of dust.
Hyeok Mulin stepped steadily into the blinding light.
As he advanced, priceless treasures of legend appeared one after another.
The Jiao Dragon Rope, twisted from jiao dragon tendons and said never to break no matter what; the Absolute Armor, forged from thousand-year dark iron to withstand any assault.
The Cloud Smearing Lacquer Blade, on which the master craftsman Golden Cat poured fifty years of effort above all else; and even the imperial relic from distant lands, the Golden Emperor Divine Dragon Sword.
Treasures so supreme that ordinary mortals might never glimpse even one in a lifetime gleamed radiantly throughout the chamber.
But.
Thud— thud—
Hyeok Mulin paid no heed to any of them and pressed on.
Reaching the wall, he descended the stairs at its end.
Floors displaying rare elixirs and spirit pills appeared, followed by shelves of martial arts manuals.
Yet he continued downward in silence.
Arriving at the bottommost level, Hyeok Mulin faced a door streaked with crimson.
Small yet emanating an enigmatic aura, it barred his path as if repelling intruders.
Forged from condensed millennium cold iron, it seemed impervious to any ultimate technique.
Approaching its center, Hyeok Mulin placed one hand on it and unleashed demonic energy.
West to east, east to south, south to north, north back to west.
As the energy cycled through the four cardinal directions, brilliant light burst from the door's seams.
Gr-gr-gik—
"It's been a while."
The door opened to reveal a vast cavern dwarfing all the vaults he'd passed.
Yet in that immense space stood only nineteen martial arts manuals, each radiating its own domineering aura.
They seemed to scream for him to choose them, but Hyeok Mulin ignored every one and walked past.
At last, his steps halted before one spot.
There lay a shabby old book, the kind you'd find in a neighborhood library.
Gazing down impassively, Hyeok Mulin traced it with a finger.
Centuries without a human touch had left thick dust coating his fingertip.
At the sight, Hyeok Mulin's lips curved into a smirk.
"Found it."
Pure Soul Divine Demonic Art.
The core technique absolutely essential for forging a new path—one whose true value he'd only grasped on the brink of death.
"Ordinary demonic arts won't cut it."
Thus, he would claim the supreme demonic art no one else could touch.
A glint flashed in Hyeok Mulin's eyes as he gripped the manual tightly.