WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: DereKimchi
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◈ I Became the Mad Demon in a Novel ◈
Chapter 11: Departed
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Korean web novels are, by nature, extremely long.
Readers call two hundred chapters short, but in book form, that is an epic spanning eight volumes.
No matter how meticulous an author is with their worldbuilding, such a structure inevitably develops holes.
A guy called Chul-su a few chapters ago suddenly becomes Chul-min for no reason.
A wall said to be impossible to overcome quietly gets lower in the next chapter.
Some authors even lay out foreshadowing as if it means something, then forget it entirely.
So what about Mad Heaven Records?
As befits a popular work, it had refined such reader-drop points to an impressive degree.
But I was the kind of person whose balls trembled whenever I spotted an author's carelessness, as if I'd found an Easter egg.
Even now, I remembered every crack in the setting that the author had casually mentioned.
That would be the turning point that made this absurd situation work out nicely.
'You fucking Heavenly Demon bastard.'
The reason I wanted to wake the Heavenly Demon was simple.
Every worst-case development that ruined the Mad Demon, the Demonic Cult's greatest villain, began with that person's absence.
Of course, I wasn't the original Yuk Jin-gwang.
But I had already seen red just watching those black-clad bastards get stabbed.
As long as I was human, there was no guarantee I wouldn't go berserk like the original.
The Mad Demon's wretched ending was ticking ever closer, even now.
'Ugh.'
A monster that lost itself and pursued nothing but the scent of blood.
A killing machine that split open the head of the woman he had loved for so long, then only stared in confusion because he didn't even know what he had done.
Once that earned him the hatred of every orthodox faction, I would spend my life running, just like in the original.
Then I would meet Han Yubaek and eventually become the ingredient for some crisp, satisfying catharsis.
Bright-red Demonic Cult seasoning to make the protagonist shine, a sacrifice for righteous comeuppance.
“Ghk?”
My body suddenly rose into the air again with a whoosh.
The one who had grabbed me this time was Lang Bai.
That bastard kept wearing down my self-esteem by subjecting me to the humiliation of a princess carry every time.
“Let's rest for a bit, you bastards!”
Lang Bai stopped like lightning.
The abrupt stop made my face bury itself in Lang Bai's chest with a thump.
I flung myself out of Lang Bai's arms as if I were having a seizure and landed on the ground.
Que Biao was already lying prostrate, head raised.
“Phew. Where are we?”
“We will soon reach Demon Kun Ridge.”
“Demon Kun Ridge?”
Wow. If we were at Demon Kun Ridge, the Demonic Cult's central headquarters was right nearby.
For over three days, the Ten Armies of the Mad Demon had repeated the same cycle: chewing only jerky, breath regulation, departure, breath regulation, departure.
But Chongqing to the Hundred Thousand Mountains was nearly a thousand kilometers.
Did that mean they had covered at least three hundred kilometers each day?
Subtracting time for sleep and rest, they must have maintained around forty kilometers per hour.
And not on a smooth road like an official highway, but over rugged mountain terrain.
Martial artists' lightness arts really were no joke.
“Please tell us the plan in your heart. Now is the time to persuade us.”
“Forget it.”
I stared at the extraordinary form of the Hundred Thousand Mountains in the distance.
A cluster of sharp peaks shrieking into the sky.
Beneath those iron-stake mountains, wrapped in pitch-black fog, the terrifying central headquarters of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult would be coiled.
A true den of demons, where ordinary people should never set foot.
“Just tell me where Tongue’s Delight Hall is.”
“Pardon...?”
I grinned.
“The place that makes your food. Don't tell me you don't know?”
* * *
What sort of place was the Heavenly Demon Tomb?
It was somewhere one could not even enter without offering the blood of the Nine Heavens Demon Clan, descendants of an ancient Divine Demon, upon its altar.
Unless you were the Heavenly Demon or their direct descendant, its countless horrific mechanisms would turn you into warm bloody slurry.
Yet the Heavenly Demon was always chewing Blood Eggs inside the Heavenly Demon Tomb.
The sight of him taking a bite of a Blood Egg and wiping foul blood from his lips was the Heavenly Demon's signature in Mad Heaven Records.
Had the author been unable to give up how cool the Heavenly Demon looked?
Even now, I vividly remembered the comment I had left on chapter 178.
└Who the hell brings him those Blood Eggs? You said they go bad in two days because they're made to be eaten ultra-fresh, but he's scarfing them down every day like fasting pills, fuck lol.
└Oh? Now that you mention it, that is weird. Did the Heavenly Demon's personal cook bring them to him?
└Was that cook grandpa descended from the ancient Divine Demon? lol.
The setting even said that the vents controlling airflow inside the cave were covered with nets woven from celestial silkworm silk.
It said assassination was absolutely impossible, or something.
Yet that bizarre image of the Heavenly Demon chewing Blood Eggs repeated in every one of his appearances.
Maybe it was too difficult to clean up after the fact, because the author gave no particular response to my criticism.
“Still, isn't anyone coming to greet me even though I'm the Mad Demon?”
Que Biao, walking ahead of us, stopped.
“It is early morning, around three, so everyone will be at Sacred Fire Hall.”
Like the devout religious fanatics they were, the Demonic Cult held a special ritual every dawn.
It might sound like morning prayer, but it was entirely different in nature.
Human sacrifice was always part of it.
They said it was the believers sacrificing their own bodies, but could that really have been the whole reason?
If a person's vital blood was concentrated again and again through a Grand Art, it became excellent nourishment for demonic arts.
An endless supply of materials for a Grand Art, disguised as noble sacrifice.
Wasn't that why the Gallers despised the Demonic Cult so much?
What if someone sniffed around the Demonic Cult because they wanted to grow stronger quickly, only to be selected as material for a Grand Art?
That would be a clean farewell to this world.
“But they heard the drums, didn't they?”
According to Mad Heaven Records' setting, the drumbeats announcing the arrival of Venerable-level masters of the Demonic Cult were each distinct.
The drums that had sounded when I entered the Myriad Demon Gate had definitely been unusual.
They were probably the drumbeats symbolizing the Chuk-ang.
“...”
Que Biao hesitated at my question.
I didn't need an answer to know.
Every Demonic Cult underling was in league with the three Demon Lords.
In this vast Demonic Cult, these people were the only ones I could trust.
Damn it. The original's continuity was terrifyingly thorough.
“But why have you personally come to Tongue’s Delight Hall?”
Tongue’s Delight Hall was responsible for the meals of the leading Venerables.
But the arrogant Venerables did not personally visit Tongue’s Delight Hall to eat.
The Demonic Cult's unwritten rule was for meals to be made and delivered to them.
Put simply, it was a wuxia version of Baemin's cutting-edge food-delivery system.
“Cook Huang. I need to see that man myself.”
Cook Huang.
The one who could prepare Blood Eggs, the food that symbolized the Heavenly Demon.
The master chef of this demonic den, responsible for the Heavenly Demon's demanding palate for decades.
Then an old man in neat clothes quietly appeared from around the corner of the pavilion ahead.
“This humble cult member greets the Chuk-ang.”
The moment I arrived at Tongue’s Delight Hall, I quietly studied Cook Huang, who had walked out on his own.
An old man with white hair combed neatly back, bowing his head with a touch of pride.
Quite the presence for a cook.
Well, he must have held great power as someone dearly favored by the Heavenly Demon.
I skipped the twenty questions and openly revealed my purpose.
“You bring Blood Eggs to the Heavenly Demon Tomb every day, right? Just tell me where they go in. It won't be fun if you spout nonsense.”
I thought the old man would panic as though his secret had been exposed.
But his reaction was completely different.
He stood blankly still, as if his brain had suddenly shut down.
Looking into Cook Huang's unfocused, clouded eyes, I became flustered too.
They had clearly been full of spirit until just now.
“Please follow me.”
Huh? That easily?
I thought I would at least need to threaten him with his life or slip him a few pieces of silver before he opened his mouth.
“This well is the sole passage to the Heavenly Demon Tomb.”
This time, my brain shut down.
I had not even taken more than a few steps behind Cook Huang, yet there really was a well there.
No matter how I looked around, this was not a place where a well should have been.
An unexpected well in the middle of a pavilion, right beside a flower bed.
A narrow, rough stone hole, like some sort of drain.
And when I peered inside, there was not a drop of water, only a blast of heat and sulfur stench.
'Ah!'
A chill ran down my spine.
Eyes that had been full of humanity suddenly turning as simple as an NPC's?
A well, no, a passage to the Heavenly Demon Tomb, suddenly appearing in a place where it made no sense?
“Haha!”
Could the narrative and setting be forcibly correcting themselves because of a serious plausibility error?
If that was true, it was fun.
It was really, incredibly fun.
I had found a plot hole in the setting that even the author didn't know about, and twisted the laws of this world because of it.
My balls trembled again with pleasure.
Heh. This was the supreme privilege that only a thorough-reading addict, someone who had devoured the text whole, bones and all, could enjoy.
“You're sure?”
“There can be no mistake.”
I smiled in satisfaction at Cook Huang, who was bowing politely.
At least for now, I didn't have to suspect betrayal.
This was a path I had made myself by breaking through a bug.
I immediately removed my outer robe and secured Silent Aeon Demon Soul more tightly.
“What are you doing? Take off your outer robes, all of you.”
“B-but then... are you saying...?”
“Didn't I say I was opening the Heavenly Demon Tomb?”
If I were just making pointless jokes, I wouldn't be the Mad Demon.
“Then I'll go in first. It'd be troublesome if Cook Huang starts talking, so knock him out somewhere secluded and follow me in.”
Without hesitation, I threw myself into the mouth of the well.
“Chuk-ang!”
* * *
The moment I descended deep into the well, an eerie resonance tickled my ears.
Thick demonic energy stabbed at my lungs, making each breath heavy as if both lungs had been filled with lead.
I stubbornly made my way down through twisting stone walls like the entrails of a monster.
My vision kept going dark.
So I had claustrophobia.
Just as I desperately held onto my increasingly muddled mind and continued downward, I felt my feet touch the ground, and, startled, looked around.
The narrow, wet stone walls that had squeezed my body from all sides had vanished as if they had never existed.
“Ugh...”
Before me spread an underground cavern so vast and majestic that I could hardly believe it was underground.
Rather than a cave, it felt closer to a massive temple built beneath the earth.
Step. Step.
I walked slowly.
My eyes gleamed in the pitch-black darkness covering every side.
This was a place steeped in strange crimson mist.
Far away, at the center of the underground cavern, stood a stone throne that seemed to glow on its own.
And then.
“Gasp!”
A man was sitting there.
Neatly swept-back black hair, an overwhelming gaze beyond words, and tremendous pressure pouring from his entire body.
I knew who it was without needing an explanation.
My entire body began to shake like an aspen.
The strongest being in the martial world.
The disaster coiled within the Hundred Thousand Mountains.
Without another thought, I untied the thick cloth and gripped Silent Aeon Demon Soul.
Fear surged in like a tidal wave.
But the moment I unfolded the domain of Demon Calamity Snow Domain, I instead boiled with the desire to fight.
“Ngh...!”
With bloodshot eyes, I swept my gaze over the Heavenly Demon's entire body.
Red lines that dismantled the world.
The fine lines of fate, paths that no move could evade, should have appeared.
The only trajectories capable of killing that monster should have formed upon my retinas.
But.
“...”
There was nothing.
Not at the Heavenly Demon's throat, heart, or dantian.
Not one of the red lines that should have been clearly visible appeared.
It was as though I were looking at an empty background, with the layer itself failing to form.
'What is this?'
Until now, there had been no target whose grain I could not read with Silent Aeon Demon Soul.
Whether lifeless or alive, even a rock had seams that could be broken.
I stared once more at the great Heavenly Demon's body with trembling eyes.
Then I quickly realized why no lines appeared.
The red lines in the domain of the Absolute Demon Sword were clearly blueprints for dismantling something.
But no lines appeared on that man.
That meant...
“...Ha.”
The Heavenly Demon.
That fucking bastard had already departed this world.
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