Chronicles of the Reincarnated Demon God - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – This is My Lunch

Namgung San-yeong sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. Her chilling glare landed on Hyeong-sam, who was kneeling before her.

“Is this really all there is?”

“Y-yes…!”

Hyeong-sam had obediently handed over everything Woon-hwi had asked for, and yet still, he trembled beneath the matron’s cold gaze like a sinner awaiting judgment.

How much more, he wondered, would he have to endure? What terrors still lay in store for him today?

The task that Woon-hwi had assigned him was simple enough:

“Bring me whatever reports you have on the current state of the martial realm—and pay special attention to the ones related to the Outer Regions.”

“Why now?” the matron lamented. “He’s shown almost no interest whatsoever in matters regarding the Tang Clan Village, let alone in those of the martial realm. So why the sudden change?”

San-yeong’s most recent encounter with Woon-hwi was still fresh in her mind’s eye—the boy getting whipped to death then suddenly arising to call her “Auntie” and run his mouth about her supposed bad breath.

What in the world had happened to him? Had he taken some bizarre medicine the previous night, or perhaps sustained an injury to the head?

Woon-hwi would normally be apologizing tearfully at her feet by now, begging for her forgiveness. Today, however, he had been eerily silent, instead staying in confinement without complaint.

It was like she was facing a different person altogether.

Even the errands he had given the steward were odd. What was he planning to do with these scraps of paper? Not eat them, certainly.

‘Could it be…? Is he preparing to bare his fangs during the upcoming ceremony to celebrate the clan head visiting?’

A certain hypothesis flashed through San-yeong’s mind, but she quickly brushed it off. No matter how much Woon-hwi had changed, the impossible remained impossible.

During the 16 years she had observed the boy, he had never been the type to use his brain. No, he had always been the black sheep of the family—simpleminded, dim, naive. His own father had been quick to abandon him for it, even.

There had to be something else going on.

‘Does he have someone new supporting him?’

Even if theirs was a branch family, they still had faction wars like any other family. The position of the next branch family head was at stake, and some clan members could be using Woon-hwi for their own benefit.

“G-Grand Matron… Wh-what should I do with these?” Hyeong-sam hesitantly picked up the scattered papers and scrolls on the floor while seeking glances at San-yeong, trying his best not to irk her.

‘There isn’t much time left!’ he silently exclaimed as a cold sweat ran down his back.

Despite knowing how terrifying the matron could be, Hyeong-sam was more fearful of how Woon-hwi would react to his tardiness. The terror the boy had engraved in his steward via his cheeks had only grown deeper with time.

“Don’t make such a fuss. Just take them and try to win Woon-hwi’s favor. But remember—you are to ensure he gets no food whatsoever until he shows genuine signs of repentance.”

“Y-yes! I-I will carry out your orders!” Fearing the matron may give out further instructions, Hyeong-sam quickly gathered the documents and ran out without another word.

The matron stared after his retreating figure, then spoke to herself in a murmur.

“It might be best to lay a trap… If someone really is trying to take advantage of Woon-hwi, they’ll fall for it right away.”

San-yeong had no intention whatsoever of forgiving Woon-hwi until he clung to her feet, crying and begging for his life.

* * *

In this new house, of which I only had bad things to say, there was one thing I still looked forward to.

My dantian.

The Sea of Ki vessel was something I never had in my original body.

“It’s small… but it’s properly formed,” I said quietly, with a tremble in my voice that betrayed my excitement.

I had spent every waking moment dreaming of it—and every slumbering night wishing for it still.

‘To learn master’s sword art.’

It was all I had ever truly wanted!

My master had created something called the Divine Heavenly Nine Flowing Sword Demonic Arts—the ultimate martial art crafted from his worldly travels as he learned or invented various sword styles, weaving nine different sword techniques into one style. Often shortened to the Heavenly Demon’s Nine Swords, some even compared it to the cult lord’s secret technique, the Heavenly Destructive Arts of Asura.

I wanted desperately to manifest it with my own hands—to reach the same heights as my master had and stand together as equals, to see the world as he saw it.

However, the Heavenly Demon’s Nine Swords was a martial art that utilized the lower dantian. Thus, it had been nothing more than a hopeless dream beyond my grasp.

“But things are different now,” I reminded myself.

Although my lower dantian was very small and my meridians weren’t fully developed, they were shortcomings that could easily be overcome. What mattered most was that I could hold a sword now.

I could now practice the Heavenly Demon’s Nine Swords.

“And what if I add my original abilities on top of the sword arts?”

Martial arts and dark arts—the idea that I could potentially unite these two entirely separate worlds exhilarated me.

It also meant the birth of a Harmonious Being, something only spoken of in legends.

In fact, I believed becoming one was the only way for me to face the mysterious mastermind who had brought ruin upon both my master and me.

They had been operating insidiously, deceiving not only the Heavenly Demon Cult but even the martial society at large. I couldn’t even begin to guess how many secrets they were hiding.

There had to be something on their side, something special that allowed them to surpass even the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon in its current golden age—a surprising distinction given the Cult’s already-thousand-year history.

However, I had a problem. The Tang Clan Ki Cultivation Technique embedded in my body was based on the Orthodox Faction’s martial arts, and those didn’t align with my master’s Heavenly Demon’s Nine Swords. I would need a bridge to connect the two styles.

“Let’s give it a try.”

Taking a seat, I crossed my legs and closed my eyes. As my consciousness sank into the depths of my mind, a seemingly endless library appeared before me.

Whoosh!

‘The Heavenly Demon Archive.’

Since I had developed an extraordinarily advanced upper dantian from a young age, I had a perfect memory. Using it, I could replicate physical spaces in my mind, giving me access to them whenever and wherever I wanted.

One of the spaces I had memorized was this library.

It was the full collection of the tens of thousands of secret martial art manuals that the Heavenly Demon Cult had spent over a thousand years searching the Central Plains and Outer Regions to gather. Only the cult lord and their successor could enter its halls.

“Good,” I observed in relief. “Not much seems to have been lost, and most of what’s missing are things that weren’t being used anyway… Phew!”

I had been worried that a large portion of my memories might have been lost during the Primordial God’s Fate Reversal, but fortunately, the damage appeared minimal.

As I scanned the bookshelves, my gaze suddenly locked onto a book.

“Found it.”

A smirk stole across my face as I read the title: Poison Dragon Essence Art.

When I pulled the book from the shelf, a pungent stench stung my nostrils—the distinct smell of the original owner’s poison still lingering on the book’s pages.

“Geez, I wish it didn’t materialize with such detail. It’s just plain inconvenient that I have to memorize every single bit of the space for this to work, honestly.”

Needless to say, it was just an illusion, so the poison didn’t concern me. That didn’t mean it wasn’t unpleasant, though.

Ignoring the tingling sensation on my fingertips, I opened the book, and the information I had forgotten began to resurface piece by piece.

It was a poison and demonic art created by a poison user from the Sichuan Tang Clan who had been falsely accused and exiled to the Tian Shan Mountains.

This, I believed, would be the perfect bridge for me.

Poison Dragon Essence Art was created purely to counter poisons and assassination weapons. It used the Sichaun Tang Clan’s famed Three-Yang Reversal Technique as its base and was further improved by the Five Poisons Sect’s Lethal Venom Execution and the Beast Forest’s Hundred Lilies Demonic Art.

It was technique perfected, undoubtedly an essential asset to any poison master.

“If I use this to build up my body anew and set the foundations to learn Heavenly Demon Defensive Cultivation…” I said, trailing off as I imagined it. “It’ll be more than enough.”

The Poison Dragon Essence Art did not directly manipulate demonic ki. Rather, it handled poison ki. That meant I could practice it in the Tang Clan without it causing any trouble.

On top of that, it was an incredibly efficient demonic art. I couldn’t ask for anything better or more convenient.

However, mastering the Poison Dragon Essence Art is no easy feat. The body cannot be limited in perspective to the meager human form and must instead be treated as an experimental vessel for poison. Only then will the art open its gates to the learner, though the path to get there is filled to the brim with thorns and pure agony.

Of course, the price of that convenience was excruciating pain so extreme that one would grind their teeth to dust, but when had I ever been afraid of pain?

The faster I regained my previous martial prowess, the faster I could run back to my master. It was a win-win situation.

Flip, flip, flip!

I carefully studied the book’s contents to the very last page, then quietly closed it.

I didn’t need to read another word. The knowledge was now etched into the contours of my mind.

Quiver!

Suddenly, my lower dantian stirred and, for the first time ever, my inner energy began to move. The energy boiled and churned inside me, igniting a sensation both foreign and strangely pleasant.

The foundation of the Poison Dragon Essence Art lay in bodily modification.

It involved regularly ingesting specially refined extreme poison pills to keep the body in a poisoned state. The process of overcoming the poison strengthened and toughened one’s bones and muscles.

The ultimate goal of the Poison Dragon Essence Art was to complete Body Cleansing Purification and gain Absolute Poison Immunity.

“The problem is, I don’t have the ingredients to make extreme poison pills.”

I couldn’t leave the White Pavilion at the moment, and Namgung San-yeong certainly wouldn’t be providing any help either.

However, that was actually a blessing in disguise.

Being confined was the perfect opportunity for seclusion training, and if I didn’t have access to the ingredients for extreme poison pills, I would simply have to craft them myself.

In fact, the shortcut was right in front of me—a method to create extreme poison pills far deadlier than any other.

“How long are you going to keep glaring at me, Uncle? Your eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if you keep that up.”

Across from where I sat on the bed, Cheon Hajin was pointing at me accusingly with bloodshot eyes and shouting with all the breath he could muster.

「Have you lost your mind?! You dare reduce me to this state?! Me, the vice-lord of the great Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon! You won’t get away with this!」

Of course, Cheon Hajin wasn’t the only one accompanying me. He would be too lonely if he were.

「Release us, Junior Lord!」

「Do you not fear our vengeance?」

「How dare you shatter the Demon Dragon Sword into such a sorry state! You won’t escape unscathed! The First Heavenly Demon will not remain silent!」

The elders and executives who had gotten caught up in the Hellfire Soul Explosion Ritual had all become vengeful spirits, stuck with me even in my new life.

I started seeing them when I activated the Violet Mystic Eye, forcibly opening Tang Woon-hwi’s upper dantian.

It meant that the Reaper Sight ability had also fully settled into this body.

「Junior Lord!」

「Junior Looord!」

These geezers. Their insipid nagging was seriously getting on my fucking nerves.

Bang!

I lightly tapped the ground with my hand, and the voices vanished as if they had never been there in the first place. Instead, their owners lay sprawled and silent on the floor, crushed by the sheer pressure of the spiritual power I had released.

“Geez, if you were going to try killing me, you really should have been prepared for your own pathetic demise. That’s poor planning from you lot, don’t you think?” I taunted.

A devilish smile split my face as I pulled my right hand toward me. The air before me blurred until suddenly, a bundle of metal chains shot forth, wrapping around Cheon Hajin and the elders and dragging them helplessly to the floor. Some of them even kneeled, lamenting their wretched fates.

What an unsightly scene.

I was the Ghost King, the ruler crowned by all the departed souls and spirits that wandered the Nine Heavens. Anyone who had died by my hand—be they good or evil—became my slave.

“Do you wish to be freed?”

Clank, clank.

I shook the chains in my hand, and with every bobble, the elders’ gazes followed.

This was more fun than I had expected.

“If this continues, you will remain a ghost forever, doomed to never reincarnate. But you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

The elders all kept their mouths locked shut.

「We cannot let this arrogant brat babble on, Elders! Before he uses his demonic tongue to charm us again, we must— Aaargh!」

Cheon Hajin started babbling without permission, but I interrupted him by yanking on his chain. He yelped as he was dragged straight to my feet.

Clank, clank!

「Let go! Release me!」

He could struggle all he wanted. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Although the chain looked simple, it was actually a ‘magic imprisonment chain’ that my master and I had spent three years forging after we happened into some divine iron. It was a spiritual artifact and a type of dark art bound to my soul, allowing me to use it whenever I so pleased.

These people might have acted all high and mighty while they were alive to be praised and served by their many followers. But what could they do now that they had kicked the bucket?

「I don’t know what you plan to do with me, but don’t think I will cooperate so easily—」

“Yeah. No need for your cooperation.”

「…Huh?」

I smiled sinisterly, placing my hand on Cheon Hajin’s head. Then I squeezed with all my strength.

Crack!

His head shattered.

There were no screams, only the eerie wail of his soul.

Eiyaaaaaah!

I crushed Cheon Hajin’s soul with a single hand while maintaining eye contact with the elders, instantly reducing the tall figure that had towered over 180 centimeters tall down to the size of a mere fist.

「!!」

「!!」

「!!」

“Do you know what this is, you old geezers?”

I picked up the remains of what was once Cheon Hajin and showed it to them.

“This is a ghost pill. It’s filled with the lingering resentment and hatred of the dead, so it’s much more toxic than most poisons. Swallowing a single pill is enough to drive someone to insanity. But right now—”

I popped it into my mouth and chewed.

Crunch, crunch. Gulp!

“This is my lunch.”

「!!!」

「!!!」

「!!!」

Where else could I find such potent poison to train the Poison Dragon Essence Art?

As the pale-white faces of the dead elders went deathly pale, I realized that our conversations would flow much smoother from here on out. Not only was I securing a good source of elixirs, but I presumed our negotiations would be settled fairly quickly now too.

‘It’s like killing two birds with one stone, heh heh heh.’