It was the spring of the new year, two years since the Blood Moon incident—the night that marked the end of the Blood Demon Sect. Once the most powerful sect under the Demonic Cult, a sect feared across the demonic faction as well as the orthodox faction, now nothing but ashes.
Not long after the massacre of the Blood Demon Sect and the death of its master—Ma Hyeonseong—the Eastern Continent has been on fire as of late.
Not only because of the death of a master at the Absolute Demon Realm… but because Demon that was once also as awakened. The Demon God himself had awakened once more.
Yes. The Demon God of the Demonic Cult—Cheon Damheon.
The man once known as the Sleeping Death God now awake and walking the earth again, and with every step, death followed.
Within the last two years, the Demonic Cult has expanded forward with unstoppable momentum, pressing forward into the Central Plains. This was always their ultimate goal—domination of the Central Plains. But for the past three hundred years since the cult founding, the cult had failed every time.
Especially this time around, when the demon God, after losing his wife, paused all wars and advancement and only focused on his daughter and the cult, but now that she was dead, nothing was holding him back anymore.
And as for the last disciple of the Blood Demon Sect—Ma Hyeolmu—he was still alive. Trapped in that pit of despair known as the Ebon Sepulcher, the Demon nightmare.
Deprived of all senses and with any martial cultivation, he had become far less than a living shell as he drifted toward insanity. Spared only as a cruel joke, a form of mockery to the Blood Demon. He was alive, but barely—a body wasting away on scraps of food and drops of water without seeing the light of day, a once-bright child reduced to nothing.
Ebon Sepulcher – Demonic Cult
"How long are we supposed to keep watching this cursed gate? It's not like anyone can escape from here nor would anyone dare to attack this place," one guard muttered, yawning.
"At least not much longer," the other said, stroking his long spiral mustache with a grin full of lust. "It wouldn't be long until when our shift changes is over and once over, I'll head straight to the Golden Jade Pavilion. I'll drown myself in wine and beauties until I forget this damned place.
(Golden Jade Pavilion — a famous establishment within the Demonic Cult, known for its unrivaled wines and breathtaking women.)
Suddenly—
"OPEN THE GATE!"
The voice thundered through the walls like a whip, making both guards stiffen.
"E–Elder!" They immediately bowed toward the source of the direction of the voice.
It was none other than the Fifth Elder of the Demonic Cult—Geomeun Bul Jangno, the Black Flame Sovereign.
"I said open the door," the elder repeated, this time releasing a wave of qi so heavy it crushed the air around them. Shivers ran down the guards' spines as they rushed to obey, pulling open the massive gates made from cold-steel .
Grrrrruuuuuuuunnnnkkkk!
As the gate groaned open, foul demonic qi spilled out, thick and suffocating. From the darkness within, an old man emerged, bowing with hands clasped.
"Fifth Elder, you should have told me about you coming, then I could have welcomed you better." The man said with his head bowed as he welcomed the elder with his hands together.
"Save it, Ma-Jok," the elder sneered. "Bring me that boy. Quickly. I don't want to waste another second in this shit hole." He said with a sharp look of disgust all over is face without even a hint of secrecy
"If I may ask… which boy do you mean, Fifth Elder? Surely you're not referring to the son of the late Blood Demon—Ma Hyeonseong?" Ma-Jok asked carefully.
The elder's face twisted with annoyance, his voice dripping with rage.
"Of course I mean that wretched brat, the son of that absolute cockroach. Who else? The cult leader has ordered him assigned to the Demonic Hound Raising Squad. If the boy's lucky, he might survive. If not… well, then he'll follow his father into the dirt."
Ma-Jok's heart sank. How cruel… to treat the son of the Blood Demon this way. The cult leader is merciless indeed. His face betrayed what he dared not say aloud. Even in the Demonic Cult, this punishment was monstrous—unfit for a child barely ten years old especially to one who has never learn any martial arts.
"Yes, Elder. I will bring him." Ma-Jok bowed deeply, hands together, and disappeared into the inner chambers of the Devil's Hell.
One might wonder how would Ma-Jok get the boy in a place where one can't use their senses, but it wasn't all that hard for a martial artist; they just needed to use Qi to enhance their senses, and they were good. But for martial artists locked in that devil's hell, they all had their martial path destroyed completely, preventing them from ever using Qi.
Moments later, he returned. Chains clinked as he dragged behind him a boy.
The child's hair had grown so long it covered most of his face. His body was a map of scratches and bruises, his feet mangled, crusted with dried blood and mud. His lips were cracked, his skin ghostly pale, his eyes hollow. He was no longer the bright boy he once had been—only a shell of a once beautiful kid.
The Fifth Elder walked forward with a twisted smile, taking delight in the sight.
"Hey, boy," he said coldly, "you finally get the chance to leave this pit. But don't get too excited. From now on, your life belongs to the cult. If you can prove yourself useful, maybe you'll keep breathing. If, by some miracle, you survive… maybe the Cult Leader himself will forgive you for your father's crimes."
The elder's laughter echoed through the sepulcher.
"Try to survive, if you can… Hahahahahaha!"
To be continued…