TSBIRBV Ch 196

Chapter 196. The Venomous Viper Will Not Endure (7)

“It truly is vast.”

Yegyeol murmured as he walked alongside Samrang.

If, in the modern age, the Hundred-Thousand Mountains truly existed, he thought, then scholars of every discipline would descend upon this place to puzzle over how the ancients could have carved out such a complex within the mountains.

It was almost too expansive to believe it a natural basin. Given the Demonic Sect’s closed-off nature, Yegyeol mused that somewhere within might lie agricultural systems to sustain themselves.

Otherwise, if the martial world besieged them, vowing to wipe out their seed, the cult would be sealed within these mountains only to starve.

Yet despite a dozen great wars between Orthodoxy and Demon throughout history, the Demonic Sect had never been erased.

“Originally, they used only a much smaller space,” Samrang explained, “but over several generations, it was gradually expanded.”

Today, Samrang was his guide. Perhaps because Yegyeol had softened after being reunited with Baembaemi the last time, his Senior Brother once again entrusted both Samrang and the Thunder Serpent to accompany him.

At once, Baembaemi slithered from Samrang’s shoulder to coil around Yegyeol’s wrist. The familiar weight settled him.

“That gate between the gorges, the one leading into the mountains—do you know who built it?”

“Well…” Samrang tilted her head. “The devout claim it was the First Heavenly Demon. But in the records accessible to mid-ranked officers, it states the gate existed even before the cult was founded.”

Her claim of being born of the cult was no lie—she knew much of the Hundred-Thousand Mountains.

She introduced buildings branching outward from Qinghyeong Hall: Taehyang Hall, where the Heavenly Demon handled the sect’s great affairs; Suhwang Hall, where the leaders of the Six Families and sect officials were summoned for councils; Paegak Hall, mustering ground when external force was required; Hyeonggeum Hall, where martial and demonic techniques were researched; and, beyond, the residences of the Six Families themselves.

“Of course, the Moonless Hall, of which I am mistress, is not among the structures you see.”

“And what does your hall do?”

“Well…”

She drew a dagger and twirled it through the air. Somehow, not even the sound of metal slicing the wind was heard.

Her movements—drawing and sheathing—were silent, quick as a whisper. Even Yegyeol’s sharpened vision barely followed.

Her demonstration itself was the answer. There was only one sort of hall that honed such skills.

Assassinations. Espionage. The art of shadows.

“Secretive, then.”

He gave a perfunctory remark, his gaze sweeping across the vast dominion of the Demonic Sect.

It was a kingdom in its own right.

No wonder the imperial house detests them.

In the Central Plains, the Emperor styled himself the Son of Heaven. Yet here in these mountains, stood a vast military order that worshipped the Heavenly Demon as a god.

Indeed, in wars between Righteous and Demonic, even the Imperial Court had sometimes broken neutrality to aid the Orthodox factions.

“This is the Gyuhyeong Institute, where demonic practitioners who have grasped some measure of power are gathered and trained.”

“Oh…”

Passing the enormous hall and its martial grounds, Yegyeol looked up. A cliff towered above, unsurprising in such mountains. Yet across its face ran massive gouges, as though a beast had clawed at the stone. The sheer depth and scope could not be nature’s work.

“Was that carved by a man?”

His eyes lit. He guessed it must have been the handiwork of some Heavenly Demon of centuries past, a display of strength.

Kunlun’s martial grounds had something similar: a story that a Grandmaster, in his last years, had struck stone so deeply with his enlightenment that dragon-shaped scars remained.

“Ah.” Samrang blinked, glancing at the cliff.

“You recognized it. Those marks were left when my lord clashed with the former Sect Leader in their final duel.”

“What?”

Yegyeol’s eyes trembled.

That—Ha Ryang’s work?

“The cliff was taller then. But the arc of his blade shattered its peak. The debris fell upon the roof of the Gyuhyeong Institute, and it took until last year to clear the wreckage.”

Now that she said it, the remains of ruined structures were faintly visible.

He truly has guts beyond measure.

Samrang cast him a sidelong glance, noting again his unusual temperament. Most would cower before such evidence of overwhelming might. Yegyeol only studied it closely, eyes gleaming with curiosity more than fear.

“Indeed… little weathered, little eroded.”

“Yes, though some years have passed, the traces remain vivid.”

“If I had known such a sight was here, I’d have asked to come sooner.”

He even clicked his tongue in regret.

“Where else would you like to go?”

Samrang asked, curious. Oddly, she felt certain he would not disappoint.

“Hm. In order of where Senior Brother spent the most time.”

His face thoughtful, then breaking into a mischievous grin—like a child plotting trouble.

Suspicion narrowed Samrang’s eyes.

Before becoming Heavenly Demon, Ha Ryang’s dwellings were much the same: prisoners rarely lasted long. Yegyeol, already told of his past, must have guessed.

Yet he wished to see them anyway?

Someone like Jinyoung would forbid him outright. Samrang, however, realized she half-expected Yegyeol to stir mischief.

“From here, the nearest… yes, the Seven Terrors Cavern.”

“Seven Terrors?”

“Originally, it held demons who had lost their power or minds. Over time, it was repurposed to confine captured warriors who still had martial skill.”

Her words rang ominous.

“Ah.” Yegyeol’s eyes widened.

So this was the place.

“Good. Let’s go there.”

Led along a gentle slope by the cliffside, Yegyeol came upon a cavern. A massive stone gate marked its entrance, wrought by human hands. Its height and thickness were such that no ordinary man could move it.

“Hm.” Yegyeol blinked slowly.

“This is the Seven Terrors Cavern.”

“Yes… here it is.”

He whispered, then fell silent. Samrang did not press, only stepped forward and pushed open the gate.

A shaft of light pierced the blackness, but revealed little within—like peering down the throat of some colossal beast.

“It is presently sealed. There are no prisoners. Only one caretaker remains.”

Why not destroy it outright?

Yegyeol kept the thought to himself. Samrang would not know. Though loyal, she bore no sign of deep emotional bond with Ha Ryang—not like Jinyoung or Hongye.

She too worships him, as one would a god.

“And where is this caretaker?”

As though in answer, came the metallic scrape of footsteps.

“Who goes there?”

An old man emerged, leaning upon a staff.

“It is not yet time for the scheduled inspection…”

Squinting against the sun, he frowned at Samrang, then spat.

“A traitor of your clan.”

“Oh, still sharp-tongued after all these years. Compliments already?”

Samrang only smirked.

“Begone. I will not permit your kind to set foot here.”

“How curious. Ordinarily, I despise these dreary places. But you see…”

She moved lightly to Yegyeol’s side, almost resting her hand on his shoulder.

“My lord’s honored guest wished to see this spider’s den, and so I obliged.”

The old man’s snowy brows twitched. He had thought the handsome youth behind her merely another of her assassins. But now…

He recalled a servant’s gossip: when the Heavenly Demon returned, he brought with him a young man. She had spoken with excitement, carrying food supplies, babbling about her god’s companion.

Short brown hair…

His ashen eyes narrowed upon Yegyeol. Samrang was not one to waste effort playing tricks. He knew her well. When her family had burned alive, she had only smiled faintly.

Cold-blooded wretch.

“If he is the Heavenly Demon’s guest, then he may enter. I am Tak—”

“Well then, no need for such trifles. Shall we go further in?”

Samrang cut his introduction short.

From Yegyeol’s experience, she was blunt, but not one to insert herself needlessly. Unless compelled, she preferred to stay silent.

For her to silence the man so cleanly meant only one thing: he was not someone Yegyeol needed to know.

Now, a caretaker rotting in the remnants of the Seven Terrors Cavern.

“Why? If he’s the caretaker, wouldn’t he know much?”

Yegyeol asked lightly, probing.

Samrang winked.

“Oh, he’s been here long enough. Ten years, perhaps.”

“Ten years, ah… I see.”

A faint, crooked smile tugged at Yegyeol’s lips.

As always, my Senior Brother is far too merciful.