Showdown with the Demonic Heiress

The sight of Dokgo Hwaryeon's disciples standing tall and proud drew nods of approval from the surrounding spectators.

"Look at that. So disciplined and imposing—truly befitting the leader of the Nine Great Sects, the Wudang Sect. Yeah."

"Damn right! The righteous sects are the best. No doubt about it!"

"If their second-generation disciples are already at that level of martial prowess, I can't even imagine what the seniors are like."

"I heard the Namgung Family and Shaolin are the top favorites this Yongbong Tournament, but if I run into those bastards, I'll give 'em a piece of my mind."

The crowd chattered on, casually judging without a care, which was starting to grate on me. But now the main rounds were finally kicking off.

"Martial Uncle, I'll head down for the matches."

"Mm. I'll pray for your victory, including you, Myeongdo, and the rest of the first-generation disciples."

""Yes, Martial Uncle!""

Hyun-gong Jin-in turned to take his seat among the honored guests reserved for the Nine Great Sects' dignitaries. The main event deserved some proper decorum, unlike the qualifiers that were just dick-meat fodder. Gotta sip some tea, stroke their egos a bit... Your disciples aren't just cumrags, right? Gotta pat 'em gently.

After seeing Hyun-gong off, I entered the waiting area near the arena, reserved for main-round participants, and surveyed my junior brothers.

"Martial Uncle already said everything that needs saying, so I won't repeat it. Just show off your honed skills without holding back."

The way they responded with thunderous clasped-hand salutes made me understand why tournament organizers love dragging shit out. This is fucking hilarious.

I took a seat, watching the arena as we waited for our names to be called. My first-generation juniors kept eyeing the other main-round participants.

"Eldest Senior Brother. I'm off."

"Go on."

Myeong-ho, called first, gave a proper bow and headed to the arena. His opponent was none other than Namgung Hyo, the one I'd been watching closely. The crowd erupted at this early clash between Wudang and Namgung.

It was first-rate versus first-rate, but Namgung Hyo was a player NPC through and through—and the young master of the Namgung Family to boot. No way some side-character grinder matches the main champ's skill. Sure enough, Namgung Hyo relentlessly pressured Myeong-ho, flaunting the Namgung Family's enduring strength.

Unlike the dejected Myeong-ho after his loss, Namgung Hyo grinned smugly, scanning the crowd and striking poses like a total douche. From his perspective, this was probably the first real expansion of the game world since starting.

Looks like he doesn't know the story in advance.

My lips curled at the sight of Namgung Hyo smirking like an idiot. That lingering unease I'd felt cleared up, putting me in a great mood. Even as a player, an NPC is still an NPC. That fucker's just a byproduct of my abilities, nothing more.

Myeong-ho slunk back, ragged and moping, spreading gloom around. But the Yongbong Tournament rolled on regardless of his mood.

In the steady stream of matches, Wudang won all except Myeong-ho's. What'd you expect? These were kids I trained personally. Lose, and they'd get their asses beat bloody. Myeong-ho, you little shit... Anyway, crushing famous righteous sects like Shaolin, Sichuan Tang, and Huashan had the crowd in a frenzy, and Hyun-gong Jin-in's grin in the VIP seats wouldn't fade.

Fuck. Something feels off.

I hadn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even gotten to fight yet while my juniors racked up wins.

"Wudang 36th-generation disciple, Myeongdo Jin-in!"

Finally, my name boomed from the announcer. I rose slowly and stepped onto the arena. The crowd's chatter died instantly, replaced by cheers. My pristine white robes emblazoned with the Wudang crest, skin like polished jade unlike these primitive ancient fuckers, and striking looks that could pass for a descendant of some divine king—all blended into an unmatched aura of charisma. They must've felt like this was the epitome of a peerless prodigy!

I soaked in the familiar gazes and slipped on my gauntlets. But was that ominous itch at the back of my neck right?

Sure enough, my opponent ascending the platform was Dokgo Hwaryeon.

Did they rig the brackets by killing off my original matchup?

The Demonic Cult handled their shit efficiently... For Dokgo Hwaryeon, I was probably the only one worth watching at this Yongbong Tournament. I swallowed my bitterness and eyed her.

Her dark crimson eyes like spilled blood, arrogant half-lidded gaze that screamed boredom—yet her features harmonized into an untouchable allure utterly different from mine.

Even in disguise, she's fucking gorgeous.

What more is there to say? Dokgo Hwaryeon, young leader of the Demonic Cult, was a woman. She'd disguised herself as a man to dodge the era's rampant sexism. Poor NPCs couldn't spot it if their lives depended on it. I glanced at her chest—vast plains stretched out. Made me wanna turn into a horse.Ah... that's why they can't tell.

I shot her a pitying look, and a fleeting killing intent brushed past, like she'd sensed it.

Focus for now.

Thanks to those plains, I'd attained clarity of mind. As Dokgo Hwaryeon assumed her stance, the match began.

+++

What the hell is this guy?

Dokgo Hwaryeon pondered amid the flurry of palms and fists in the arena.

With the Supreme One's injuries fully healed, zeal for invading the Central Plains was building. As the young leader of the Divine Cult, she'd attended the Yongbong Tournament with her personal guard, dreaming big—only to be utterly disappointed. These so-called second-generation disciples of the Nine Great Sects weren't even peak experts; they were barely first-rate trash?

She'd dispatched a messenger pigeon to the cult, recommending a declaration of war. Her accompanying guards and elders agreed without hesitation, bolstering her confidence in unifying the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠martial world.

Then, amid the wait for the tournament, came one piece of intel: a descendant of the Wudang Divine Sword, who'd once clashed with the Supreme One, was participating.

The Supreme One had described the Divine Sword's skills as "a half-baked warrior who hadn't grasped true intent." That supposedly dead half-baked warrior had raised a disciple? Dokgo Hwaryeon snapped to attention. Then this descendant must have completed the missing half and awakened true intent. Know thyself and thy enemy, and you'll win a hundred battles.

Searching for the Divine Sword's heir, she finally found him. She was stunned once by his radiant looks, twice by the familiar aura he exuded—like her cult's devotees—and she shook off the inexplicable fondness rising unbidden.

Sure enough, he was a peak expert, leagues beyond the other juniors. Not quite her level, but who reaches peak realm in their twenties? He'd surely be a thorn in the cult's side! She'd plotted to quietly eliminate him, but the more she dwelled, the more she wanted to test him firsthand. He was the Divine Sword's heir, after all. A little playtime couldn't hurt.

Thus began the match with the heir. He was definitely peak realm. Definitely... but.

Dodging his hand probing her vital points again, Dokgo Hwaryeon counterattacked.

Boom!

Again. Trembling at the horrific My Weight Hand Method tearing through her internals via their clashing fists, she summoned her Heavenly Demon Energy to soothe her shaken core. But so what? Distracted by her internals, her fist cracked—Dokgo Hwaryeon swallowed a groan of sharp pain.

Like a monster's shell.

To fight this guy, she'd need to heal inner wounds from his vile internal energy—something even the world's demon lords avoided—while protecting her body from what felt like divine power reborn as an iron body. No other peak expert could match him.

She dodged his palm thrust at her abdomen with footwork, only for it to morph like a raptor's talon, grazing her ribs.

Crack!

"Kuh!"

A mere brush, yet her ribs already felt off. Dokgo Hwaryeon bit her lip. She couldn't beat him without the cult's arts. Ignoring her inner turmoil, she evaded his relentless assaults, but deep in her chest, sticky droplets began to fall, one by one.

As the Heavenly Demon's daughter and the Supreme One's heir, she'd never lacked for what she desired. Her overwhelming talent made devotees kneel and offer treasures; those who pleased her became subordinates. The only thing not hers was the Supreme One's throne—but that would naturally become hers too. The world existed solely for her.

Dokgo Hwaryeon gradually drew up her sealed internal energy, scanning him bit by bit. How could a man look like that? She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the cult's foremost demonic flower, yet he eclipsed even her. And his martial arts? She hadn't unleashed her true techniques, but she was the Divine Cult's young leader. He was holding his own against the world's top young demon lord.

Her heart grew stickier, hot breaths escaping unwittingly. With her exceptional talent and background, Dokgo Hwaryeon lacked self-control and patience. When she wanted something, she took it.

Aah...

I want him. He's mine. Made for me alone.

Crush him, devour him—that shining one is mine.

Suddenly, demonic energy exploded from her like a burst dam. No turning back now. Calming her hazy mind amid surging madness, she sent a transmission to the cultists hidden among the crowd.

The devotees attacked without question. Heads flew amid the airborne crowd, blood fountains erupting, screams filling the air.

The arena fell into a lull amid the crowd's chaos. Even the elders sensed the Divine Sword's heir was no ordinary foe, their voices laced with murderous intent.

Four Fire Realm experts suddenly lunged toward the arena. The Murim Alliance Lord and righteous sects' elders couldn't hide their shock. Four pinnacle experts who wielded world-topping realms had appeared.

Ignoring them, Dokgo Hwaryeon gazed down at the Divine Sword's heir, bound and acupoint-sealed by the elders.

"Haa..."

Her body trembled at the unfamiliar sensation, hot breaths spilling out. This Central Plains trip was truly satisfying, wasn't it? Her lips felt like they might split from the grin she hadn't noticed forming. Surrendering to excitement, Dokgo Hwaryeon unleashed a feverish roar.

"The Heavenly Demon Reincarnates! All Demons Rise in Triumph!!!"

With the colossal black Asura Demon form manifesting over the arena, the Wudang 36th-generation disciple Myeongdo vanished that day.