Birth of the Dark Lord

Lanzhou, Gansu Province.

To its southwest, nestled within a natural fortress of bizarre crags and towering rocks that flanked it like an ornamental screen, crouched the Ghost Demon Sect.

Its master was Ha Jinwol, known across the region as the Thousand-Faced Ghost Fox. He was a supreme practitioner of worldly craft and self-preservation, famed for possessing a tongue and an instinct for reading the room far deadlier than any blade. Back when the shadow of the Four Hegemons of the Central Plains first began to stretch across the martial world, he had recognized the vast potential of the Kunlun Demon Palace before anyone else, voluntarily pledging his sect as their subsidiary branch.

That choice had proven to be nothing short of a divine move.

With the monstrous backing of the Kunlun Demon Palace behind them, the Ghost Demon Sect expanded its influence with unstoppable momentum. Their standing solidified to the point where even the Kongtong Sect, the undisputed hegemon of Gansu Province, dared not touch them lightly.

Yet, despite riding such a continuous wave of triumph, a single gnawing ambition plagued the Thousand-Faced Ghost Fox.

Late at night, in the private office of the sect leader, the Thousand-Faced Ghost Fox leaned back against a chair draped in opulent tiger pelt, lazily swirling a jade cup in his hand.

He possessed skin so pale and delicate it seemed bloodless, framed by a smooth, elegant jawline. Dressed in sweeping white robes, his outward appearance was indistinguishable from that of an aloof, noble scholar, yet the glint peeking through his narrow, slitted eyes carried an unmistakable chill of sinister greed.

Though he was already on his second bottle of Jiannanchun, a vintage of the highest pedigree, the fine liquor did nothing to quench his inner thirst.

The Golden Frog Money House...

His eyes shone with a covetous gleam.

Keeping watch on Wi Geum-seong under the pretext of his secret probe into the Kunlun Demon Palace had merely been an excuse. Ha Jinwol knew the truth: the wealth visible on the surface of the Golden Frog Money House was nothing more than the tip of an iceberg. The hidden slush funds Wi Geum-seong had stashed away were beyond imagination.

If only I could lay my hands on that fortune.

Ha Jinwol turned his gaze toward the map of Gansu Province hanging upon the wall. His eyes settled on the crimson territory marked right in the center: the Kongtong Sect.

That thorn in my side.

As one of the venerable Nine Sects and One Gang, the Kongtong Sect was an adversary the Ghost Demon Sect could never hope to challenge on its own, no matter how much their power had grown. Calling upon the Kunlun Demon Palace to wage an all-out war might guarantee victory, but orchestrating such a grand clash was far beyond the purview of a mere subsidiary branch. In the end, if he wanted to eradicate Kongtong, he had to engineer it with his own hands.

Though his martial strength was currently insufficient, everything would change once backed by immense wealth. There was no shortage of masters in the world who could be bought with silver—the problem was that the truly capable ones who met his exacting standards demanded an exorbitant price. To hire them, he desperately needed the funds of the Golden Frog Money House.

Even if I cannot breach their main mountain, I can dismantle their external affiliated sects one by one.

Using hired swords to sever Kongtong's limbs, gnawing away at their sphere of influence until they withered and died from starvation—that was the grand tapestry Ha Jinwol envisioned.

Clack.

Setting down his jade cup, a sly, predatory smirk curved his lips.

Doksimma should be handling matters well by now.

Picturing his vice sect leader currently wringing Wi Geum-seong dry, Ha Jinwol calculated the golden future lying just ahead.

Darkness stretched thick beyond the windowpane.

Quite a bit of time has passed... He is taking longer than expected.

Still, no real concern stirred in his chest. A heavyweight like Wi Geum-seong would not bend easily, so it was only natural for even Doksimma to require time.

I told him to kill the old man if necessary, but it would be far better to keep him breathing and put him to work.

Wi Geum-seong’s administrative acumen was extraordinary enough that even Ha Jinwol coveted it. If managed properly, claiming and running the Golden Frog Money House would prove incomparably smoother with him at the helm.

"I suppose I should hear his report before retiring for the night."

Ha Jinwol reached out by reflex to refill his empty cup, only to chuckle dryly.

"Ah, empty already. Shall I have them bring another bottle?"

Just as he parted his lips to summon a subordinate, his hand froze dead in midair.

The air in the room ceased to circulate.

In an instant, an eerie, bone-chilling frost filled the entire chamber, sharp enough to make every hair on his body stand on end.

This was no mere bloodlust. It was the scent of death itself, striking terror directly into his primal survival instinct.

W-What is this?!

Startled, Ha Jinwol immediately circulated his internal energy to burn away the lingering drunkenness. His pupils contracted in sheer tension.

Absurdly, the epicenter of this overwhelming alien presence stood right in the center of his private chamber.

Since when?!

A figure of darkness stood there.

It bore the silhouette of a man, yet curiously, no facial features could be discerned. A pitch-black, swirling mist drifted around him, cloaking his entire form in absolute obscurity.

"Are you the Thousand-Faced Ghost Fox?"

The voice was low, yet its reverberation struck the eardrums and crushed the heart far heavier than thunder.

Ha Jinwol swallowed hard. Even for a man of his experience, this flavor of terror was completely foreign. Yet, clinging to his pride as the master of a sect, he forced his voice steady, concealing his trembling as he spoke.

"I am. You have immense nerve for an intruder. Who are you?"

From within the black shroud, a flash of white teeth revealed itself. It was an unmistakable sneer.

"Insolent."

The shadow raised a hand.

With that singular, effortless motion, the very space around Ha Jinwol twisted violently.

Wuuung!

"Kugh?!"

A colossal weight, like a mountain of ten million catties crashing down upon his shoulders, bore down on him.

Ha Jinwol frantically rallied his inner energy to resist, but it was nowhere near enough to withstand a pressure that felt as though Mount Tai itself was collapsing upon him.

Crack.

"A-Aaargh!"

The bones in his legs screamed in agony.

He gritted his teeth, pouring every ounce of strength into holding his ground in a desperate bid to preserve his dignity as the leader of the Ghost Demon Sect.

Yet his adversary showed no mercy. The shadow lowered a single finger ever so slightly, and the crushing force doubled.

Thud!

Ha Jinwol’s knees slammed violently into the floor.

Spiderweb fractures split the solid blue-stone tiles beneath him.

H-How is this possible...?!

The physical pain was nothing compared to the shock. An absolute gulf in power—one that made his own decades of cultivated internal energy feel like child’s play.

Forced to keep his head pressed against the cold floor, Ha Jinwol had no choice but to gaze in sheer terror at the tips of the dark figure’s boots.

"Now our eyes are on the proper level."

Only then did Ha Jinwol truly realize: the being standing before him was an untouchable monster.

He scrambled to speak, his words tumbling out in a frantic panic.

"T-This humble one... failed to recognize an exalted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠master and committed a grave offense! Please forgive me!"

He pounded his forehead against the floor in frantic kowtows. With his life hanging by a mere thread, petty pride held no value whatsoever.

At the sight of his servile groveling, the dark silhouette let out a low chuckle.

"Good. That is how you should behave."

The lethal, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠suffocating pressure bearing down upon his shoulders eased just a fraction.

Gasping for ragged breath, Ha Jinwol lifted his gaze toward the black mist, his eyes brimming with a mixture of terror and reverent awe.

Just who... who is this man?

The Nine Nether Abyssal Mist.

Originally, this esoteric technique operated by spreading Ink Flame Qi across a wide area, severing not only the opponent's vision but completely paralyzing their five senses while utterly erasing the practitioner's presence. Left stranded in a pitch-black abyss devoid of even a sliver of light, an enemy would succumb to sheer despair as they were forced to fight an unseen, unfelt foe.

Though currently limited in scope, the boundary of this technique would expand as the user's realm deepened. Dokgo Jin had condensed this very Nine Nether Abyssal Mist tightly around his own body, blurring his form into an enigmatic specter to project overwhelming authority.

Of course, the Thousand-Faced Ghost Fox had no way of knowing such inner workings. To him, he was merely on the verge of being crushed to dust by the sheer terror radiating from this living vortex of black mist.

Looking down at the trembling man, Dokgo Jin spoke once more.

"I have come from Mount Yuhua."

Ha Jinwol’s pupils trembled as if an earthquake had shattered his senses.

Mount Yuhua... That means...!

Located south of Nanchang in Jiangxi Province, Mount Yuhua was none other than the headquarters of the Red Blood Gang.

"How dare a trivial insect like the Ghost Demon Sect meddle in our gang's affairs?"

The reprimand, infused with dense true qi, sent a throbbing ache pulsing through Ha Jinwol’s temples.

What terrifying cultivation...!

He urgently raised his inner energy to shield his ears.

Could it be... the Red Blood Gang was behind the Golden Frog Money House all along?

Dismay washed over Ha Jinwol’s face.

Damn it all...

Yet he could not simply accept death here.

"F-Forgive my insolence, but if anything happens to me, the Kunlun Demon Palace will not sit idly by!"

Dokgo Jin smirked.

"Do you truly believe that?"

Ha Jinwol choked on his words, unable to offer a rebuttal. He knew all too well that the Kunlun Demon Palace would never wage an all-out war against the Red Blood Gang over the death of a mere subsidiary sect leader.

"I-I have committed a mortal sin! I foolishly dared to obstruct the Red Blood Gang's grand work! I shall summon the vice sect leader at once and—"

"There is no need."

"Pardon...?"

"They will not be returning."

Ha Jinwol’s entire body shook like an aspen leaf in the wind as the grim weight of those words sank in.

"There is no need to tremble so," Dokgo Jin added coldly. "Had I intended to take your life, you would already be dead."

"Ah...!"

A glimmer of hope ignited within Ha Jinwol, and he resumed banging his head against the stone floor.

"T-Thank you! If you spare my life, I will...!"

"Choose."

Dokgo Jin's eyes flashed fiercely from within the shroud of mist.

"Will you continue to serve as a dog of the Kunlun Demon Palace, or will you cooperate with our gang from this moment forth? The choice is yours."

In truth, it was no choice at all.

Declaring continued allegiance to the Kunlun Demon Palace would mean his head leaving his shoulders this very second.

"To be frank, my sect was an unorthodox faction from the very beginning! We only submitted to the Kunlun Demon Palace because we could not withstand their coercion!"

Ha Jinwol prostrated himself flat against the floor, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"From ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this day forth, this Ha Jinwol shall be a loyal dog to the Red Blood Gang!"

Dokgo Jin did not answer right away, merely gazing down at him in heavy silence.

Though the pause lasted only moments, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Ha Jinwol, it felt like an eternity stretching across endless kalpas. Cold sweat poured down his brow like rain, soaking the stone beneath him.

"...Very well. I shall test your sincerity."

"T-Thank you! Thank you, Exalted One!"

In truth, wiping the Ghost Demon Sect from the map would have been a trivial matter for Dokgo Jin. The problem lay in the aftermath.

If a subsidiary branch like the Ghost Demon Sect was wiped out overnight, the Kunlun Demon Palace would launch a full-scale investigation, and the sparks of that inquiry would inevitably fly right back toward the Golden Frog Money House.

Subjugating the Ghost Demon Sect is far more advantageous.

By bringing Ha Jinwol to heel, he would instead gain a dependable internal informant to aid Wi Geum-seong in probing the Kunlun Demon Palace from within.

"Remember, I shall be watching you always. If you dare attempt any underhanded tricks..."

"I swear on my life that will never happen, Exalted One!"

"You will only receive one chance."

With those final words, the black mist shrouding Dokgo Jin dissolved like smoke into thin air.

Feeling the overwhelming presence vanish, Ha Jinwol slowly, cautiously raised his head.

The chamber was utterly empty.

Only after confirming that Dokgo Jin was truly gone did the breath trapped in his chest finally tear free in ragged gasps.

"Haaah... haaah... haaah... haaah!"

His legs turned entirely to water in sheer relief, collapsing him onto the floor.

Yet, his wits snapped back to attention almost immediately.

Wait.

He scrambled to his feet and rushed to throw open the window through which the intruder had likely departed into the night.

"W-Wait, Exalted One! Your esteemed name...! How am I to serve you if I do not even know who my master is?!"

Carried on the night wind, a voice drifted back from afar, echoing like distant thunder:

Ha Jinwol stared blankly up into the nocturnal sky.

The Master of Darkness.

That name etched itself into his soul as an indelible mark of terror, never to be forgotten.

And thus was born the moniker that would one day make the martial world tremble in dread: the Dark Lord.