Chapter 69: Chapter 69
– The next day.
An estate with so many pavilions it could be mistaken for a village.
Behind it rose Mahe Mountain, called the main citadel. Before it flowed a lake, clear as milk and honey.
The textbook example of backing the mountain and facing the water.
If any family in Cheonsan had claimed such perfect terrain, there was only one.
The Ma family.
The foremost house of the Demonic Cult, having produced countless luminaries.
Their influence was such that a single summons from the family head could fill every pavilion here and still have people left over.
And the caliber of the physician visiting today spoke volumes about their standing.
Tap, tap, tap.
A small old man emerged from the inner residence, leaning on a cane decorated with a snake’s head.
Sixth Elder, the Poison-Born Demon Physician, Sa Ma-gyun.
“How did it go?”
A middle-aged man who’d been waiting outside, watching carp in the pond, asked low.
Flame-like red hair. A fierce impression, draped in a wolf-fur cloak.
If the Cult Leader and the Left and Right Emissaries were beings beyond human, then among humans, he was the practical sovereign who commanded the cult’s military affairs.
Father of Mao and Ma I-sin. First Elder.
The Northern Sea Demon Lord, Ma Il-seong.
“Heh heh. I’ve done everything I can for now.”
A statement with wiggle room. Could go wrong.
Ma Il-seong’s eyebrow twitched, however slightly.
A man who wouldn’t flinch with a blade at his throat. But this time, he couldn’t help being concerned.
Naturally.
The Ma family’s eldest son had returned with a shattered wrist.
“…The arm was badly injured.”
“Shattered. Whoever did it really pulverized it.”
As the diagnosis fell from the Demon Physician’s lips, Ma Il-seong spoke calmly.
“If there are problems, tell me without sugarcoating. So I can prepare.”
“What problems?”
“No one-armed successor has ever existed in the North Sea Divine Art’s lineage.”
Hah. A breath escaped the Demon Physician. So what was he planning to do? Eliminate his own son? At this point?
‘Truly a man without a shred of sentiment. Then again, if he had any, he’d have been devoured long ago. Heh heh.’
The Demon Physician smirked and replied.
“It’s just one broken arm. Nothing that serious. Don’t worry. Two months of rest and it’ll knit fine.”
It had to.
Ma Il-seong finally withdrew his gaze and nodded.
The Demon Physician worked his mouth slightly.
Truthfully, Ma I-sin had a bigger problem than his wrist.
‘Does he know his son is living addicted to Soul-Befuddling Powder? Well, the qi is strong enough to flush out the toxin, so…’
The Ma I-sin he’d examined was bizarre beyond unsettling.
He’d poked and prodded the shattered wrist, pressed on it. Through it all, nothing but smiling. No reaction whatsoever.
This wasn’t certain, but it raised suspicions of congenital analgesia. The ability to feel no pain whatsoever.
And it seemed long-standing.
“What about the Slave Lord?”
Hmm? The Demon Physician feigned casualness and answered.
“What. That slave fellow? Wrecked. Both hands pierced, and a thrust through the sternum at the Danzhong point. Driving a carriage back in that condition… remarkable he’s alive at all.”
“…Are you saying he died?”
Ma Il-seong’s gaze trembled faintly.
“He’ll need a good rest as well.”
Alive, then. For the first time, relief showed on his face.
The Demon Physician was inwardly stunned. He couldn’t even pretend to worry that much about his own son. What a man.
“But who did this? This level suggests the opponent was no nobody.”
Crippling the Ma family’s legitimate heir was staggering enough, but examining the wounds revealed the attacker was no ordinary hand.
Piercing the Slave Lord’s stone-hard hands wasn’t enough. Ma I-sin’s wrist had been shattered to fragments.
All in a single strike.
‘And both appear to be the work of the same person.’
How many fighters could simultaneously employ such devastating leg techniques and a razor-sharp concealed weapon? Moreover, to produce this level of movement against two opponents required someone as slippery as a seasoned snake.
By rough estimation, the work of an old master. One with extensive experience and considerable cunning.
But among such men, was there a fool who’d dare break the Ma family?
“A nobody.”
An unexpected answer emerged. Nobody. Nameless. Beaten by someone he’d never heard of.
“Who exactly is that?”
Ma Il-seong seemed genuinely deliberating. Not because he worried about the Demon Physician spreading rumors, but because his own knowledge was extremely limited.
All he knew was three syllables, dredged up by the insensate Slave Lord last night like a man possessed.
“Jang I-seo.”
“Jang I-seo?! Surely the Jang I-seo I know?”
“You know him?”
“Are you seriously asking because you don’t know?”
Ma Il-seong’s eyes turned fierce.
Though the Elder Council was nominally a horizontal structure, a clear difference in martial prowess existed. And the Demon Physician acknowledged this.
“Now, that… The one person who should know best doesn’t, so I’m baffled. This heartless.”
“Just the point.”
“The Seventh Young Master’s adjutant. Meaning, this house’s second son’s right hand.”
Sharp light blazed from Ma Il-seong’s eyes.
Adjutant Jang I-seo.
Where had he heard that? Then it surfaced. He’d received a report.
A former Counter-Espionage Division squad leader. Utterly ordinary. So insignificant he’d dismissed it with a snort.
And that name was resurfacing here.
Beside him, the Demon Physician swallowed as if sparks had landed on him. Then continued tactfully.
“I recently met that fellow.”
“Why?”
“I swear I have nothing to do with this matter. So please calm yourself. I had a task for the boy.”
“What task?”
“The Mad Physician. Gongsun Jeol. He’s resurfaced.”
“Hmm…”
A deep murmur escaped Ma Il-seong.
The Mad Physician. The weight of that name was considerable.
To prevent greater misunderstanding, the Demon Physician cut straight to the point.
“You’re surely aware that the Sa brothers were dismantled. That adjutant looted their headquarters, and unauthorized Soul-Befuddling Powder was found inside. It appears to have been manufactured by the Mad Physician.”
“…”
“The Sa brothers are gone. Given the situation, the only people I could ask were that adjutant or this household’s eldest son sleeping in there. That’s why I visited Wolha Village.”
In short, he couldn’t interrogate the Ma family’s eldest son.
A brief but irrefutable reason.
“But did Jang I-seo really do this?”
“What do you mean?”
“No, it’s just surprising.”
Genuinely surprising on multiple levels.
He’d known the man was clever, but he hadn’t thought him strong enough to face the Slave Lord and the Bloodless Duke.
Besides, wasn’t he practically a dead man walking?
‘He hid enough skill to fool even me. Sa Do-cheol’s disappearance wasn’t simple either. The more I see, the more fascinating this fellow becomes.’
His interest, already considerable, had sharply risen.
“What’s so surprising?”
Ma Il-seong, unable to wait any longer, demanded.
“That boy has promise.”
“Promise? He’s a former Seventh Grade Ghost.”
“The Slaughterhouse isn’t so easily dismissed. Do you think the Seventh Young Master stopped them? Heh heh. No matter how much he’s your blood, wrong is wrong.”
First Elder Ma Il-seong’s eyes narrowed.
He’d heard the Slaughterhouse was dismantled. But they were just thugs.
Did stopping them warrant a second look?
They’d been his eldest son’s playthings. Nothing more.
“Well, if I might add a personal observation…”
The Demon Physician stroked his beard and appended tactfully.
“Jang I-seo. Watch him for a while. He might turn out to be a blessing for the Ma family.”
Ma Il-seong’s gaze churned fiercely.
The man had committed insubordination, touching the Ma family’s legitimate heir. What would others say?
And he was told to watch?
Truly presumptuous.
“Is he your hidden son or something?”
“H-hidden son?! I’m an unmarried bachelor, what kind of baseless…”
“Then shut your mouth. Ignorance is one thing. Knowingly tolerating it is another. The Ma family isn’t that generous.”
“I’m saying this because he’s a waste! A waste!”
“A waste…? Unusual words from you.”
Who was the Sixth Elder? If the First Elder had a heart of steel, he had blood of poison. A cold man with deadly venom flowing through his veins.
A waste?
Sa Ma-gyun exhaled a long breath in frustration and answered.
“He’s the kind of fellow you rarely see in this cult lately. Backbone, you might say. Anyway, a young man who genuinely pleases me. One I’ve been watching lately.”
Ma Il-seong replied with cutting disbelief.
“Being noticed by an old physician doesn’t qualify one to damage the Ma family’s heir.”
No matter what he said, the response was the same. The minimal warmth evaporated.
“Now, really. The Cult Leader himself has his eye on the boy. Doesn’t that suffice for qualification?”
“The Cult Leader…?”
Ma Il-seong’s eyes went wide. He’d received no such report whatsoever.
“That’s why I’m saying watch him. Who knows. That boy might become the wings that carry the Seventh Young Master to Young Cult Leader.”
“…Are you serious?”
Ma Il-seong was so astounded he briefly wondered if the man had gone senile.
The cult’s political landscape had long been set as a three-way race: the First Young Master, the Second Young Master, and the Third Young Lady. The Seventh Young Master was a child the Ma family itself had discarded.
And now? Young Cult Leader?
“An old man’s instinct. Whatever else, Jang I-seo is no ordinary fellow in my eyes.”
“You’ve finally lost your mind, it seems.”
“Senility or old man’s foresight, we’ll know in time. Nothing to lose either way. Who knows? The Young Cult Leader might emerge from the Ma family, not the Cheon. Heh heh heh.”
Flinch. Ma Il-seong’s pupils wavered.
Not the Cheon family. The Ma family.
Truly sweet words.
How high had Second Elder Cheon O-san’s nose risen all these years, citing their backing of the First Young Master Cheon Mu-gi?
Even now, the thought burned his insides.
Something he’d yearned for deeply.
But it was also something he’d let go of long ago.
‘Mao. That child, Young Cult Leader? Absurd.’
He’d never once elevated Mao to his own eye level.
Not because he was a bastard. He simply didn’t qualify.
Ma Il-seong admired strength above all else. Respected strength.
And the strength he recognized wasn’t simply about talent.
The ruthlessness to cut family if necessary. The sense of responsibility. And the mental fortitude to withstand any storm.
All of these together constituted true strength in his belief.
But Mao?
Talent aside, he had nothing. Frivolous by nature. Lacking even the patience for greatness.
A child who’d never even shown the will to fight his own brother.
What could such a boy possibly bear?
Young Cult Leader? Even if by some miracle, it would mean Ma Il-seong himself having to clean up after him.
But,
“You’ve been hesitating all along, haven’t you, First Elder? A sliver of hope that the Seventh Young Master might change someday. That’s why you’ve tolerated the shameful feud between your two sons.”
“…!”
“The adjutant is the Seventh Young Master’s blade. Think about it. For the first time, he defied his older brother. So watch him. See how the fight between the two brothers unfolds from here. If he truly is hopeless, Jang I-seo will die young anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something like that. Anyway, think about what I’ve said. I’ll take my leave.”
Tap, tap. The Demon Physician departed slowly, leaning on his cane.
Ma Il-seong saw him off with an expression of disbelief.
But why?
His words, oddly, lingered, scratching at his nerves.
‘Jang I-seo…’
First Elder of the Demonic Cult. The Northern Sea Demon Lord, Ma Il-seong.
The moment those three syllables carved themselves into his steel heart.