Heavenly Demon Cultivation Simulation-Chapter 546: Cheon Miryeo (2)

A few days later.

Cheon Miryeo walked out of the room on her own.

Having reached Profound Demon, she had become a completely different person.

The signs of illness had vanished as if washed away; her skin was clear as jade, and even the fine hairs on her fingertips shimmered faintly.

The cracked knuckles smoothed, and her breath was calm like the morning mist.

Above all, it was her gaze that had changed.

It was no longer the cloudy, cold look it had once been.

Now it held the clear depth of a lake where the bottom could be seen.

“You have changed completely.”

Seol Hwi said slowly.

Cheon Miryeo raised a finger instead of answering.

Ssssss.

A transparent qi rose like heat haze.

Without exerting force, an icicle at the eaves far off cracked and fell.

Cheon Miryeo smiled quietly.

No joy, no arrogance.

It was the quiet smile of reunion left after decades of suffering were finally scattered.

“This is what I have dreamed of my whole life.”

A steady voice.

It flowed gently.

A corner of Seol Hwi’s chest grew heavy.

This was not joy.

Nor was it jealousy.

‘Is this… a master’s heart?’

A disciple walking the path she chose.

An indescribable swell of emotion watching her finally reach the end.

Profound Demon.

The moment one who defied the world finally became one with it.

Seol Hwi fell silent for a long while.

Then he uttered one word, very softly.

“…You did well.”

A tremor.

Cheon Miryeo’s brows trembled faintly.

The weight contained in that brief phrase.

The sincerity within it.

She knew it better than anyone.

“Thank you… Master.”

Cheon Miryeo bowed deeply.

A cold wind brushed between the two.

Even that wind felt warm.

The next evening.

Seol Hwi stood alone outside and looked up at the night sky.

Since coming here, he had made it a habit to seek the sky every night.

To hear the sound of the world splitting in the stillness.

Tonight too, the starlight was clear.

In Heavenly Mountain’s pure air, the stars shone as if pouring down.

‘It has split again.’

Another Polaris had appeared.

The light was faint, but that single point carried a vibration that shook the world’s orbit.

Return, and divergence.

It was the trace of someone who had crossed death and returned.

“Huuu…”

Seol Hwi exhaled slowly.

‘Same sky, different world… The System is truly wondrous.’

Even if the world goes on as if nothing happened, the sky remembers.

Stars were never just one.

Only that there hadn’t been the right to see them.

“The night air is cold.”

Cheon Miryeo’s voice was heard.

Her newly gained vitality and energy reached him before the cold wind.

Seol Hwi thought the time had come.

She would notice soon enough anyway.

“Sit.”

Cheon Miryeo smiled teasingly.

“Is this another serious talk? If I said I was scared, would you believe me…”

“Look at the sky.”

Her smile froze at Seol Hwi’s serious words.

She slowly lifted her head.

After a moment.

Her breath began to tremble.

“The Polaris…”

“Yes. There are three.”

The wind stopped.

The air around her froze in an instant.

“Why three? That is…”

“In a few days there will be seven.”

Cheon Miryeo’s eyes shook greatly.

Realization ran through her body like lightning.

She had intuited what it meant.

“The world… is splitting.”

“Yes.”

“The earlier starlight tremor… that means someone crossed death and returned…”

“That’s right.”

Cheon Miryeo inhaled slowly.

Starlight fractured in layers within her pupils.

“How can this be… This can’t be explained by chance encounters. It’s as if…”

“Yes, there was divine intervention.”

Thud!

At that moment her expression froze: awe, fear, anger.

Complex emotions tangled like a skein.

“Where is… That place?”

“Another world.”

“Who lives… inside it?”

A brief silence.

The heaviest name surfaced.

“…Demonic Cult.”

“…!”

Cheon Miryeo’s body stiffened minutely.

Demonic Cult.

The place she had devoted her life to.

A world buried in countless memories, now left behind.

“What could be happening there?”

Seol Hwi was silent for a moment.

How should he explain it.

Jang Dal’s world, the System’s intervention, the infinite repetition of return and death.

If he told the truth, could she bear it?

“A divine play is unfolding.”

He said it lightly, but the meaning was heavy. Cheon Miryeo narrowed her eyes and asked.

“Who is the plaything?”

Seol Hwi did not answer.

“Perhaps, people like us?”

Starlight rippled in her eyes. Seol Hwi watched her sink into memories of the past.

He thought someone might still be reaching out desperately, like he once had wept there.

“We must save them.”

Her voice was quiet but resolute.

“Those who are there. We cannot let the divine toy with humans.”

Seol Hwi asked coolly.

“Do you mean to oppose a god?”

“Not to oppose it, but rather to avoid that existence and bring people out.”

“Do you think avoidance will work? And…”

He stared into Cheon Miryeo’s eyes.

“Playthings do not run away.”

“…Why is that?”

“Because those hurt by a god will surely seek revenge.”

A brief silence.

Cheon Miryeo asked.

“Master, can you save them? You have the ability, don’t you?”

“….”

Seol Hwi did not answer.

And silence flowed again.

The wind brushed past the leaves.

Determination faintly spread across Cheon Miryeo’s face.

“…I will go.”

“…!”

“I cannot just watch a god toy with humans.”

She looked up at the starlight again.

It seemed she was remembering someone somewhere beyond, desperately reaching out.

“In that world… someone is surely pleading for help right now.”

At those words, Seol Hwi’s breath trembled very slightly.

Thud.

Seol Hwi’s chest trembled faintly.

‘Cheon Miryeo felt this way.’

Her past self.

The figure who took a step forward despite fear to save him.

Only then did it come to him clearly.

But his own self back then?

He had dragged her into the battlefield instead of worrying for her.

Not even once.

He had never considered things from her perspective.

“….”

Saaaa.

The wind swept by.

It sounded like a whisper reproaching his past self.

‘What if I stop him now?’

Seol Hwi slowly closed his eyes.

His past self, the one in that world.

If the old man version of himself did not hand over the System’s power?

‘Then… he would keep returning endlessly.’

The current version of himself would not exist.

He would not reach the realm of a god.

But she would survive.

Conversely, if she goes?

He would exist now, but she would disappear.

A shiver.

The starlight trembled strangely.

As if gazing upon someone at a crossroads of choice.

‘So this is what the old man meant to show me.’

What he had gained and what he had lost.

What was protected and what was sacrificed.

And his choice to leave no lingering regrets.

“Huu.”

Seol Hwi exhaled deeply.

Starlight reflected in his eyes.

It shone clear and painfully.

‘Is it asking me… to choose again?’

Only then did he realize.

What the old man wanted was not an absolute being, but one who chooses.

One who determines fate themselves.

Since that day, Cheon Miryeo looked up at the sky every night.

The Polaris with hidden lights revealing one by one.

The faintly twisting fissures in the sky.

She seemed to be waiting for a gate that might open at any moment.

Rustle.

Seol Hwi approached.

Cheon Miryeo, startled, lowered her gaze, then bowed calmly.

“I’m sorry, I was too absorbed…”

“It’s all right.”

Seol Hwi also looked up at the sky.

Today the starlight trembled unusually violently.

A sign that someone had crossed death and returned again.

After a long silence, Seol Hwi slowly spoke.

“Ryeo.”

Cheon Miryeo raised her head.

“Yes, Master.”

“What if I… knew the future after you returned to that place? What would you do?”

Her eyes wavered for a moment.

But rather than surprise, she nodded as if confirming.

“…You die, don’t you.”

Seol Hwi nodded.

“Yes. Even after reaching Profound Demon, you eventually die. Inside there is someone beyond Profound Demon. Truly a god.”

A line of wind.

A long silence passed.

Cheon Miryeo breathed out calmly.

“Master.”

Her voice was composed — not empty, not afraid.

It was as clear as a spring.

“What I fervently wished for has already come true.”

Seol Hwi looked at her slowly.

“Profound Demon, the sky beyond it. I now know there is a world so clear, vast, and free.”

She raised her hand and pointed to the distant starlight.

“So I am not afraid of death. Not the hollow death chased by qi deviation…”

She stepped forward.

“This time it will be a step I take of my own will.”

Seol Hwi’s gaze trembled slightly.

“Even though it’s the path of death, you choose it?”

“Yes.”

She smiled calmly.

“I have already died once. I vanished into darkness leaving nothing behind.”

Cheon Miryeo lifted her head to the starlight; darkness and light trembled together in her eyes.

“People disappear someday. Whether Profound Demon, Ma-shin, or a god… in the end they die and are forgotten.”

The wind passed.

A star’s shadow flickered over the back of Seol Hwi’s hand.

“When you die, you lose all memory. You go beyond oblivion. Then who I was… how can I remain in this world?”

Her gaze was composed and resolute.

“So I will go. Even if I die, I want to remain in someone’s life.”

Thud.

In that moment, Seol Hwi’s fingertips trembled slightly.

It wasn’t that his emotions wavered — his body understood first.

‘Yes. I was the same.’

At first he wanted power.

Then vengeance.

Then talent and providence.

Then the place of a god.

But at the end of this long journey he realized.

‘I did not want endless life… I only wanted one true life.’

An inscrutable smile spread at the corner of his mouth.

Not grief, not self-mockery.

A smile of realization.

“…Very well. Go.”

Under the night sky Seol Hwi’s voice spread softly.

“Master…?”

Cheon Miryeo stopped walking.

She had spoken, but she hadn’t expected such calm permission.

“Walk with your own feet, on your own path. Travel that world and save those suffering from the god’s play.”

Cheon Miryeo closed her eyes and bowed deeply.

“Thank you.”

“No. You are not alone.”

Seol Hwi lifted his head and stared at the Polaris.

“I will help from outside as well. In what way… I do not know either.”

His hand rose slowly toward the void.

“There will surely be a way to live somewhere. Like the path for returnees where the Polaris is visible.”

Saaaa.

A gentle wind passed between them.

The stars trembled, and a single path opened.

Cheon Miryeo bowed her head one last time.

And then…

Whoosh.

She vanished into the starlight.

Seol Hwi was left alone before the shabby wooden pendant.

He closed his eyes slowly and whispered.

‘Miryeo. I too… will find my own path.’

And very faintly.

A genuine human smile touched his lips.

‘And I will not give up easily. Like my life before.’

The wind passed.

In the stillness, his will settled firmly.

Even if like the path he’d walked, one step at a time.

If he does not stop, he will eventually reach it.