The Heavenly Demon's Proposal

Long live the Demonic Cult? 'Ah, fuck. What the hell is up with this old man's sudden coming out.' Right in the middle of my boiling rage, Masato's abrupt confession killed the dinner mood dead on the spot. A mix of sorry and absurd left my anger fizzling out fast. What was the point, anyway? The opponent was just your average clueless normie. And Ritka, the one he wanted so bad? I'd already taken her virginity and was balls-deep scraping every inch of her insides.

'Getting pissed is just gonna hurt me in the end.' Snapping out of it, I dove straight back into the wuxia world. I spawned in the Demonic Cult—a den of the most vicious bastards who specialized in tormenting people.

'You little shit... I'll grab whatever high solitude or crap you've got here and force you into slave labor till you drop dead.' Cackling to myself, I rose from the ornate bed, spotting a neat yet flashy martial robe laid out on the table. Today was the day I'd been summoned—probably to spin some tale about my kidnapping. My heart pounded at the chance to meet the Cheonma in person, not just through cutscenes.

'He was teetering on the edge of the Fire Realm back then—wonder if he's broken through by now?' In the game, these scenes played from Namgung Hyo's perspective, skipping all the elder-level old-timers via cutscenes or vague mentions. Players never got to face them directly.

'All that bullshit about "taking them down through coordinated assaults" or "heaven's luck was on our side"...'

A knock echoed from outside just as I was racking my brain.

"My lord, it's time to head to the grand hall."

"All prepped here. Lead the way."

I flung open the door and followed the maidservant. 'Where'd my foursome girls go?' No sign of the sluts I'd partied hard with earlier—mood killer.

Crossing the cult's palace-like interiors, all glittering opulence, we reached a massive door.

"This servant will take her leave."

She scurried off like her duty was done. Staring blankly at the door for a sec, it slid open silently with a low grrrrk.

'Auto-door tech slaps. Primitive ancients, my ass.' No doubt some inner powerhouse triggered it with internal energy. I strolled in casually. Kidnapping meant they wanted something from me—they wouldn't off me easily.

Step. Step. Aiming for the brightening depths of the dim hall, the interior came into full view.

Four figures lined the hall's sides, their piercing glares scanning me. I'd seen these fuckers at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly. Still, my asshole clenched on instinct. Weren't these the pinnacle Fire Realm masters hyped as the strongest in the current martial world? All four in one spot?

'Holy shit.'

Keeping my cool, I pressed deeper, spotting two more.

Dokgo Hwaryeon stared me down with her long hair cascading free; Demon Thunder kept fiddling with his chin beard like it was fascinating. Hwaryeon scared me sure, but without the male disguise, she looked like a pretty doll—secretly pleasing. Demon Thunder? Just ugly as sin. Only superb realm master among the execs besides her? Made me wanna punch him.

Averting my eyes, I headed to the end, where a massive jade throne held a man.

The Cheonma himself, realm unfathomable, stood before me at last. Identical to the cutscene—no changes. His lazy lion vibe had me gulping as he eyed me silently till I took my seat, then spoke.

"So you're the successor of the Divine Sword?"

His voice boomed through the hall with overwhelming demonic power, an irresistible pressure making blood trickle from my mouth.

'Fucking monster... Ngh!' I'd weathered sect leader auras before, but nothing like this. The rumors of his vague realm clicked now. I stood firm, but the pale-faced elders around me confirmed it—they were enduring at their limits too. This earth-shaking energy control at Fire Realm? 'Bullshit.' He'd clearly shattered through using some once-in-a-lifetime chance on his inner wounds. The undisputed world's strongest.

I forced down the blood, straightened up, and cupped my fists in salute. Mastering Iron Man helped—I held better than expected. Though he was probably going easy.

"Disciple Myeong-do of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Wudang Sect's 36th generation greets the current world's greatest."

Defying the violent aura, I greeted calmly. 'Sorry, father-in-law.' My past intimidation of Masato ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with aura was boomeranging hard. Damn dog... The crowd's eyes heated up watching a Manifest Realm master endure and salute. Why'd Dokgo Hwaryeon's gaze get weirder?

"Hoh... Truly the Divine Sword's heir, eh?"

Cheonma withdrew his aura in an instant, stroking his beard. Tongue-tied at the absurd energy control, I steadied my eased breathing and posture. At least his temper seemed milder than expected—small mercy. Wiping blood from my lips, he spoke again.

"Do you know why you were brought here?"

"Honestly? No clue. If they wanted me dead, why bother with the hassle and risk of transport?"

His relaxed demeanor had him even smiling faintly. Fucker.

"True enough. Killing's far simpler. Even I planned to off you before seeing you myself."

I listened quietly. No clue on the details yet—no point mouthing off.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three this year."

He tapped the throne arm, then replied.

"Our Little Cult Leader's twenty-eight. At that age, she's knocking on Fire Realm's door."

The fuck? The vibe turned baffling; my psycho side itched.

"In short, she's my daughter—but a monster. Heaven's blessing for the cult, nightmare for the orthodox sects."

Wasn't she born from monster seed? Makes sense she'd be one too. Absurd. Glancing at Dokgo Hwaryeon in disbelief, she stared blankly with empty eyes—no emotion.

'Fucking scary.' Under the final boss's creepy gaze, my legs shook.

"That Little Cult Leader requested you personally. I figured, since we're already at odds with the martial world, why not meet you?"

Ominous vibes crept in. Cheonma smirked, clearly enjoying my trembling eyes.

"Originally, I'd have made you a slave or gift. But seeing you... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I admit I was wrong."

Wrapping up, he dropped it.

"What do you think... of becoming the Little Cult Leader's husband?"

The source of dread revealed, I glanced at Dokgo Hwaryeon again. She stared indifferently, like it didn't matter.

"Are you sane?"

The nonsense slipped out. But Cheonma burst laughing, delighted.

"Kekeke. Sane or not—the Divine Sword's heir wedding my daughter... Kuhahaha!!!"

His booming laugh shook the hall, stirring faint hope. 'Say it's a prank, please.' Spotting it, he chuckled on.

"Besides her, who in the martial world reaches peak realm in their twenties?"

No one. Lore had late-geniuses at first-rate tops. Player Namgung Hyo hits superb later to fight her—but way later. My silence got a nod.

"Exactly. As a father, I sought a husband for my only girl, but no decent candidates... till you."

"I'm Wudang's disciple."

"This is Heavenly Demon Divine Cult."

He crushed my squirm effortlessly.

"No choice anyway. Be grateful—I'm treating you kindly as future family. Plenty others eye you too. Right, Geom-ma?"

Geom-ma paused at the call, then spoke.

"No need for lies. As a father with a daughter, I'd breed that seed, not refuse."

Sudden killing intent exploded from Dokgo Hwaryeon. 'Crazy bitch... teamkill outta nowhere?'

Geom-ma smirked at her aura and turbid eyes, bowing slightly. Her sticky pressure vanished instantly. Cheonma, even more amused, nodded.

"Kekeke. See? First time the Little Cult Leader obsesses over a man. How could a father refuse?"

His chuckles and kindness masked eyes now ice-cold, forcing my choice. Refuse? Official cult stud. Endless martial beauties? Tempting. But...

'With my powers, even old masters might line up...' Worst scenarios flashed. Not just geezers—this was Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. Perverts too.

'Urk.' Shaking off the chain of horrors, I refocused. Asshole clenched. Stud life? Noped. Only option: Little Cult Leader's hubby. Exec-level legit.

The silent hall let my mental abacus click. 'Four Fire Realm masters, two superb, tons more, plus the world's strongest Cheonma... Can the current martial world beat Cheonma Divine Cult?'

Crunching numbers, orthodox sects had zero shot. Cold logic: best to ride the wave. Not 'cause my ass itched.

I looked up, scanning Dokgo Hwaryeon. Silky long straight hair, martial-honed firm body radiating allure even in robes. Slightly droopy eyes and dazed dark-red ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pupils gave idiot-beauty vibes; blood-smeared lips added decadent charm. Gaze to her chest. Sigh escaped, but it was in play. Her brow twitched at my stare. Ignoring it, I turned away.

Sensing my resolve? Cheonma's face lit with anticipation. Divine Sword heir in this farce? Comedy gold for him.