-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Prologue
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Prologue
Blinding snow and howling frigid winds raged across the Heavenly Mountains.
At their very summit stood a single pavilion, emitting a faint, wavering glow of light.
Inside, pillars carved with dragon motifs rose toward a ceiling adorned with refined patterns, while luxurious brocade curtains embroidered with gold fluttered softly in the air.
Yet in stark contrast to such elegant splendor, an elderly man lay upon the bed—his hair pure white—his breathing so labored it seemed as though his life might slip away at any moment.
"Haa… haaah…"
Even the blanket woven from Heavenly Silkworm Thread—said to be lighter than a feather—felt to him like a massive stone pressing down upon his body.
With eyes barely open, he forced his cracked lips apart and spoke.
"Is… anyone there…? If so… please… give me some water…"
His desperate voice drifted through the empty air.
But no sign of another's presence could be felt within the chamber.
After staring blankly at the door for a long while, he finally turned his gaze away in resignation.
It was only to be expected.
Rather than attending to the Heavenly Demon, now little more than a withered corpse awaiting death, they were surely engrossed in heated debates—deciding who would become the next Heavenly Demon.
"…Still."
Even though he understood this, the fact that not a single soul remained by his side as he stood on the brink of death felt unbearably lonely and bitter.
Where had everything gone wrong?
'From the very beginning, I suppose.'
He had not become the Heavenly Demon through a rightful path.
It had been a choice forced upon him.
Either his clan would fall into ruin—or he would accept a political marriage and become the Heavenly Demon.
There had been no other option, no room for hesitation.
'At first… I did have expectations.'
What was the Heavenly Demon?
The supreme leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult—one who could command millions of demonic followers with a single finger.
Born as a man in the Divine Lands, there could not have been even one who did not dream of becoming the Heavenly Demon.
And yet—
'There was nothing.'
He was the Heavenly Demon, yet there was nothing he could do.
Not a single person truly followed him.
Even when grave incidents occurred and emergency councils were convened, they proceeded while leaving the throne empty.
The only thing he was allowed to do was stamp his seal upon approval documents they submitted—granting permission without question or authority.
In short—
'A powerless puppet Heavenly Demon. That was what I was.'
A situation so utterly helpless that he could not interfere with anything.
Even so, he did not give up.
He struggled desperately to escape that position and break the deadlock, and in the end, the path he chose was martial arts.
There were two primary reasons he was never treated with respect within the Cult.
First, his main family—one of the Seven Great Demonic Houses—had been on the verge of collapse, nearly expelled.
Second, he failed to demonstrate martial might befitting the title of Heavenly Demon.
The downfall of his clan was not something he could resolve on his own. Thus, he clung to martial arts as the only possible breakthrough.
'But by the time I found a clue… it was already too late.'
His joints now creaked, his body no longer moved as he wished, and his hair had long since turned completely white with age.
Now, even breathing while lying in bed was a struggle.
'How futile.'
When he had first ascended to the position of Cult Leader, there had certainly been opportunities.
Though few, there were people who waited, watching quietly for change. But he ignored them, charging forward blindly like a wild horse.
As a result, he lost both people—and timing.
"So… this is how it ends."
A lament seeped into his cracked voice.
His entire body felt frozen cold, and he lacked even the strength to twitch a finger.
Death was right before him. The next breath he exhaled would likely be his last.
As he accepted reality and closed his eyes, scenes of his life flashed past like a revolving lantern.
After briefly observing his entire existence, he murmured in a hollow voice.
"A life where I grasped… nothing at all… so empty…"
With that final, vacant regret, the color drained from his face and his body went completely still.
The Twentieth Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult—The Lonely Heavenly Demon, Hyeok Mu-rin.
He met his end in solitude, within a residence long abandoned by all.
And when his name was later recorded in the Records of the Heavenly Demon, that brief account was all that remained.