I wanted to screw the Young Cult Leader over.

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than the Heavenly Demon spoke, sounding almost delighted.

[I happen to have a very good idea.]

A good idea, he said.

[Well? Do you want to hear it?]

The way he said it—tempting, coaxing—was ominous no matter how I looked at it. Hearing that tone from him immediately brought someone else to mind.

This.

Wasn’t that exactly how Yoo Cheongil used to sound whenever he was about to pull some insane stunt? Most of the time, when he used a voice like that, it ended in something completely ridiculous.

Even so.

“...What is it?”

I figured I should at least hear him out.

[Heh heh heh.]

The Heavenly Demon laughed at my answer.

Then, after hearing what came next—

“...What kind of absurd nonsense is that?”

I reacted like I couldn’t believe it.

Because it really was absurd.

The problem was—

“...How do I do it?”

Emotion got there before reason.

Because once I imagined it, it really did seem like I could screw him over good if it worked.

Of course.

If it fails, I’m the one who’ll be screwed.

That was the issue.

The payoff and the risk were both enormous.

At that, the Heavenly Demon laughed and said:

[That depends entirely on how you choose to go about it. So choose.]

He whispered to me, pressing the matter.

[Will you do it—or not?]

There were only two choices.

“......”

And maybe my answer had been decided from the beginning.

*****

Sssss.

Wind blew through the dark space.

In the gloom, red eyes gleamed suddenly.

“I’m fairly certain I asked Bow Ghost to handle this—”

The Young Cult Leader, his gaze cold, spoke to the old man before him.

“But it seems things turned out a little differently.”

“......”

At that, the old man—the Death King—furrowed his brow.

“Death King. Doesn’t this differ somewhat from our agreement?”

“......Things got a little tangled. My master is in no condition to move, so I handled it in her place.”

“You’re saying Bow Ghost is unwell?”

“That’s right.”

“......Hm.”

The Young Cult Leader tilted his head.

Bow Ghost.

That inscrutable woman was in bad shape?

It hadn’t looked that way.

Tap. Tap.

He drummed the tip of his index finger against the table.

I thought I might make use of that side’s strength. Did things get a little twisted?

The Demonic Cult’s repository.

The anecdotes recorded there concerning Bow Ghost.

Those had been left behind by the former Sky—the Heavenly Demon himself.

And among the information recorded there regarding the beings beyond heaven—

There was more about Bow Ghost than anyone else.

The North Sea’s flower in full bloom.

A master archer said to be able to strike a target from over a thousand li away.

There had been more written about Bow Ghost than anyone else, and the most surprising thing among it all was—

Her greatest trait and her most important power isn’t her archery.

Bow Ghost had not become terrifying because of her bow.

Spirit art, was it?

The handling of spiritual energy.

The manipulation of what could not be seen.

That, according to the records, was her true strength.

The kind of power that must be feared and avoided above all.

That was what the Heavenly Demon had called it.

He found it hard to believe, honestly.

What could possibly make something that looked like the sort of trick only Wudang Sect types would use so dangerous?

But there was information saying she shook the Demonic Cult itself with that power.

The Young Cult Leader steadied his breathing and thought.

Bow Ghost already bore hostility toward both the orthodox faction and the Azure Moon Sect, so he had thought it would be convenient if he could establish contact and borrow her strength.

This outcome is a little disappointing.

If Bow Ghost herself had moved, that would have been one thing.

Instead, her disciple, the Death King, had moved.

The goal had been to plant a trap in Thousand-Mile Divine Eye.

Still, since it succeeded, does it matter?

Whether it had succeeded or not was hard to say.

What bothered him was that he had no choice but to judge by the Death King’s word alone.

Disgusting old man.

That was the Young Cult Leader’s opinion of him.

For someone called the Death King, his martial prowess was not all that high.

And yet the reason he’s one of the Five Kings Under Heaven is probably—

Corpse arts, was it?

His history of making jiangshi out of the dead and sending them to war.

That filth alone should have damned him, yet the orthodox faction had apparently chosen to turn a blind eye to part of his guilt because of his contribution to the war.

Worms. All of them.

Contradictory. Selfish.

They let a man like that walk because he had been useful in war.

Truly—

There’d be nothing strange about wiping them all out.

Creatures lower than insects.

That was what the people of the orthodox faction were to the Young Cult Leader.

If it were up to me—

He wanted to kill them all right now.

Sssss.

He crushed down the killing intent boiling inside his body.

It would be troublesome if the Heaven-Slaying Star ran wild.

Not yet.

Not yet.

He still had things to gain.

And I still need to watch what the Sky-Crushing Palace bastards are doing.

Those grotesque things.

They possessed bizarre power, so he had joined hands with them and made use of them, but that did not change what they were in the end—things that would also have to be cut away.

And the leadership of the Demonic Cult has to be swallowed up too...

Not the Eight Demons.

The monsters of the previous generation.

The Demonic Cult’s true strength, still alive, still hidden.

He needed to persuade them.

And to do that—

I have to prove that I am the true inheritor.

Proof that he had inherited more than red eyes from the Heavenly Demon.

He had to find it.

The divine artifact as well.

And the Heavenly Demon Divine Arts too.

The sublime divine arts the former Heavenly Demon had used.

The power that had made Demonic Cultists kneel and torn the blue sky apart by hand.

He had to find it somehow.

Obtain it somehow.

“Whew.”

At that thought, the Young Cult Leader exhaled and looked at the Death King.

For some reason, cold sweat had formed on the old man’s brow.

“You don’t seem well.”

“......I’m old. These sorts of problems come with it.”

“I hope you recover soon. In any case, this means things went well?”

“......That’s right.”

For the sake of the work, he had placed a light restrictive seal of the Demonic Cult on him.

Since the Death King had not resisted it, it should be properly set into the body.

That meant he should be incapable of lying.

Though I still don’t know the exact method.

If things had truly gone as described in the records, it would not take long for something to happen to that filthy old man, Thousand-Mile Divine Eye.

“Death King, thank you for your assistance.”

The Young Cult Leader smiled.

“Please give Bow Ghost my regards as well. What I promised will be delivered at the appointed time. It seems I’ll have to make a trip to Xinjiang first, so I ask for your understanding on that point.”

“......”

The Death King rose at those words.

He did not bother with farewells.

He simply stepped back.

“......Hah.”

Watching him go, the Young Cult Leader’s expression twisted.

“Annoying bastards.”

He dragged a hand over his face.

Just breathing the air of Henan made him want to vomit.

Meeting the eyes of the orthodox faction made him want to gouge every last one of them out.

Especially—

Those eyes.

Those blue eyes that had looked down on him.

Bang Seongyeon, the Sword Saint’s inheritor.

He wanted to rip those eyes out and chew them to pieces right now.

“Haa...”

Enduring it was exhausting.

Feeling that, the Young Cult Leader spoke.

“......You.”

“Yes, Little Sky.”

At the call, the Demonic Cultist behind him dropped to one knee.

“What is Freak Demon doing?”

“He has shown no movement from his residence.”

“Really?”

The Young Cult Leader’s eyes turned flat.

Freak Demon was staying still.

That bothered him too.

I was sure he’d try something.

Among the newly assembled Eight Demons, some had been active in the past, while others were replacements.

And among them, Freak Demon—the one once called the Heavenly Demon’s strategist—had been especially displeased with him.

He might not show it openly, but he wasn’t so shallow that it was impossible [N O V E L I G H T] to notice.

The Young Cult Leader knew Freak Demon did not acknowledge him.

The nerve.

Who did he think he was?

He had wanted to recruit him if possible, because keeping him close looked as though it would be a great source of strength.

Does he know something?

Freak Demon’s walls were thick.

Almost as though he knew the Young Cult Leader’s secret.

If that’s true—

Then he would have to be removed before too long.

No matter how useful Freak Demon might be, he could not possibly be more dangerous dead than at his side.

“You.”

“Yes, Little Sky.”

“If he shows any strange movement at all, report it immediately.”

“......I obey.”

Hearing that, the Young Cult Leader looked up at the sky.

SKREEEEEEEE—

KYAAAAAH—!

Black spheres visible through his red eyes.

He stared at them as they shrieked and convulsed in wild agitation.

I still can’t get used to them.

Those grotesque things he had begun seeing after these eyes had been put into him.

He could not touch them.

He could not feel them.

And yet he could see them.

The longer he looked, the more exhausted he became.

“......Hm.”

The Young Cult Leader opened and closed his eyes, then rose to his feet.

It was late.

He needed to return for tomorrow’s sake.

If he stayed any longer, he might attract unnecessary suspicion from the Murim Alliance.

There are too many eyes here.

How many eyes had the Alliance planted here?

Too many to count.

Moving without being noticed by them was quite troublesome.

Not impossible, at least.

That was the one saving grace.

Creak.

He took hold of the door and opened it.

The instant the Demonic Cultists moved to follow him—

[You finally came out.]

“......!”

At the voice from ahead, the Young Cult Leader’s body froze.

There was something standing directly before him.

The Demonic Cultists moved first.

“Who are you?”

[Heh heh heh.]

Laughter answered the demand.

And then—

FWOOOOOOOSH—!!!

“......!!”

The Demonic Cultists’ bodies locked up like stone.

The same was true of the Young Cult Leader.

There, ahead of them, stood a figure in dark clothes, wearing a mask.

Everyone held their breath at the energy pouring off him.

This is...

That was impossible.

Cold sweat rolled down the Young Cult Leader’s face.

It was far too familiar.

“Demonic qi...?”

Demonic qi.

The force used by every Heavenly Demon and every Demonic Cultist in history.

The very power called the source of all Demonic Cultists.

That was what he felt from this figure.

“......You. Who are you?”

The Young Cult Leader frowned.

To be able to use demonic qi meant the man was from the Cult itself.

In other words, he was a Demonic Cultist.

Which meant—

“Do you know who I am, yet dare stand there greeting me like that? If you are a Demonic Cultist of the Cult, kneel at once and remove your mask.”

There was no one in the Demonic Cult above him.

The Young Cult Leader knew that.

So he spoke to the figure accordingly.

But—

[Kneel?]

The figure reacted as though the very notion were laughable.

[Hahahahaha.]

The laughter rang out louder than before.

[There is no one in this world who can make me kneel. Least of all—]

Shiiing.

A sword slid from his waist.

The Young Cult Leader’s eyes went wide.

“That—!”

[—some trash sitting in a seat he has no right to.]

“The Heavenly Demon Divine Sword...?”

The divine artifact of the Cult.

The sword once wielded by the former Sky was there.

And at the same time—

[Stupid child.]

Behind the white mask, crimson eyes glowed with a terrifying light.

The mark of the Heaven-Slaying Star.

A requirement of the Heavenly Demon.

[How does it feel to face the real thing while hiding behind lies?]

“......You bastard. What the hell are you?”

How he possessed the Divine Sword was one thing.

But what were those red eyes?

Grinding his teeth, the Young Cult Leader demanded an answer.

And—

[You already know.]

The one behind the mask—

no,

[The sky of the Demonic Cult, and its entirety.]

Using Bang Seongyeon’s body—

[I am the Heavenly Demon.]

The real thing spoke truth to the fake.