How to Hide Demonic Qi
"Fate... is it fate, after all?"
The old man muttered something I couldn’t make sense of, then fell silent for a moment.
"...Very well. Choose your opponent. The right is open to anyone."
At his words, I shifted my gaze to the seven candidates. The Danri siblings were staring wide-eyed at me.
I hadn’t seen them since the day I ran out of the cave five years ago, so they must have thought I was dead.
We exchanged a brief glance, and then I stepped toward the man standing right beside them.
He was probably at the entry level of Peak. From the force I could feel rolling off him, he seemed to be the strongest of the lot. If I broke him, no one would be able to object.
"I’ll take him."
"Come with me."
The old man led him and me down from the platform to the sparring ground below. As we drew closer to the audience, their voices came through clearly.
"Both of them have incredible presence..."
"If they’re already at that level before turning twenty, I wonder what kind of monsters they’ll become later."
"Who do you think will win? They both look like Peak experts."
The old man raised his voice toward the noisy crowd.
"The victor will become the new candidate for Young Sect Leader. Let everyone here bear witness."
With my sword drawn, I stood in the center of the sparring ground and faced the man. Our eyes searched each other.
His knuckles were thick with calluses. Since he hadn’t brought out any weapon, it seemed he practiced fist techniques.
A boxer, then. This would be good experience.
As the crimson demonic qi swept through my blood and vessels, my body began to heat up.
Just as the tension between us reached its peak, the old man’s voice rang out.
"Begin."
BOOM!
As he stamped down with all his weight, the ground around his feet shattered.
In an instant, my vision filled with fists overflowing with demonic qi.
Was he trying to finish this quickly because he had sensed the difference in our levels?
I had the advantage in speed, stamina, and internal energy. There was no reason to dodge if he chose to meet me head-on.
The sword, red as blood, tore through the air as it surged forward. I could feel the fearsome force contained within it.
CRACK!
The energies collided, and a deafening roar erupted in all directions.
My arm went numb, but I saw blood running down the blade. His fist had split, even if only slightly.
"Hngh..."
I could feel him grinding his teeth. Now it was my turn.
The sword techniques I had learned in the library surfaced one by one in my mind. They had already melted into part of a sword that still had no name.
Five forms burst forth from my blade. It was one sword, and yet each strike followed a different path.
The tip of the sword split into a flurry of killing lines, aiming for his neck and limbs.
I saw the panic on his face as the sword, wrapped in crimson demonic qi, stabbed toward him.
I saw his fist shoot upward from around the pit of his stomach. He must have thought the neck was a feint.
The instant my blade reached him, a spray of blood burst into the air.
His chest was carved open deeply, blood gushing from the wound. His arms and legs, caught by the sword energy, also began to bleed.
His choice to protect his neck was reasonable. If he hadn’t defended it, he would have been a corpse rolling across the floor.
But taking the rest for nothing more than a feint was a fatal mistake.
"Huh... it’s not just the internal energy. The difference in skill is overwhelming."
Someone’s murmur brushed past my ear.
"Looks like the candidate’s changing hands..."
"...What a bizarre sword style."
The spectators chimed in one after another.
Did that noise reach even the man who had fallen back on his heels? A flicker of despair crossed his face.
"Aaaagh!"
Demonic qi exploded from his body as if it were bursting apart. All his energy gathered in his arm and shot toward me.
The force behind that fist was clearly dangerous. But it was too slow.
I had no reason to take a weakened attack after he’d already been wounded, but I had never been fond of dodging in the first place.
I met the oncoming fist with my sword. There was no need to pour in excessive demonic qi. Just a little more—just a touch more than he had—would be enough.
The energy of the reverse current flowed from low to high.
Mingling with his demonic qi, the sword energy turned black-red and split his hand clean in two.
Flesh tore, exposing the soft, fragile meat beneath. Red droplets scattered everywhere.
"Guhh...!"
He stumbled backward, clutching his shredded arm, and I swung again.
I didn’t feel any need to use some special form.
The sword energy settled, the sharpened blade fell, and without the slightest resistance it sliced through his neck.
The crimson blood that flowed from his throat stained my long hair. Blending with the bright red demonic qi, it was hard to tell which was blood and which was not.
"Hoo..."
After I had cut off his breath for good, I stood still and caught mine.
"He’s like a ghost drunk on blood..."
"A blood fiend..."
A blood fiend? Were they talking about me? Apparently the crimson demonic qi made me look that way.
"...The winner has been decided. You are the new candidate for Young Sect Leader."
"Waaah!"
"Blood fiend! Blood fiend! Blood fiend!"
The whole place was filled with cheers, all of them chanting blood fiend. Being called a blood fiend by people—it wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling.
As the atmosphere grew too heated, the sect leader lifted a hand from the platform.
"Quiet down, all of you."
When the shouting finally subsided, the old man continued.
"From this day forward, these seven will be the official candidates for Young Sect Leader. But some of you may take issue with that. Specifically, with their origins."
Some of the crowd nodded.
"I understand your unease. Handing the future of the sect to someone from the Central Plains is no small matter. That is why the Sect Leader himself has chosen to step in."
As soon as he finished, a demon in the crowd carrying a huge goblet climbed onto the platform.
Slash.
The sect leader cut his own hand. A few sharp breaths drew in from all around.
Blood trickled down his hand and into the goblet. After some time, when the liquid inside had turned red, the old man spoke again.
"Though their blood is not truly mixed with ours, from this day onward these seven are the sect leader’s children. To treat them as outsiders from the Central Plains after this will be taken as a challenge to the Sect Leader himself."
Having finished his warning, the old man handed the blood-filled goblet to the seven of us.
"Now, drink. From here on, you will bear the Sect Leader’s surname and receive the treatment you deserve."
For each of us who drank from the cup, he asked our name and changed it one by one.
When the goblet reached me, I swallowed down the bitter, metallic liquid and the old man asked,
"...What is your name?"
"Shin Hyun."
"From now on, you will be Cheon Hyun."
Cheon Hyun. The strange sound of it sat badly with me.
I had no intention of abandoning the Shin name I took from Yiryeong. No matter what they said, I would remain Shin Hyun.
Once the goblet was empty, the old man shouted from the platform,
"That is all for today. Everyone, disperse."
With the spectacle over, the crowd quickly began to leave. They were probably heading off to the banquet that had been prepared nearby.
Still, the sect leader’s child. I had a headache just trying to figure out how I was supposed to accept that.
Lost in thought, I noticed the old man approaching me.
"You. Come with me. There’s something I need to say in private."
His familiarity with this sort of situation made me glare at him.
"How can you guarantee the same thing won’t happen again?"
"I give you my word. And besides, you are now the sect leader’s child. Even I can’t lay a hand on you lightly."
"...Lead the way."
I followed behind him for a while until we reached a hall slightly smaller than the Mahwa Library. It had been stripped of all unnecessary ornamentation, yet the very plainness of it gave off a suffocating sense of authority.
The old man sent the servants away and led me to a room on the top floor. Sitting in a black chair, he spoke.
"You probably have a rough idea who I am. I am the Left Emissary of the Sungmu Cult. My role is to raise the candidates and place one of them on the seat of Young Sect Leader."
"Cut the nonsense. That’s not the issue between us, is it?"
"...Yes. The Mahwa Library. I locked you in there. But I don’t regret it. Even if I had to choose again, I’d do the same thing. You must not become Young Sect Leader."
"...Why not? What exactly was I lacking?"
"Did you think I wouldn’t see that you’d burn the whole cult down just for your own sake?"
The old man wasn’t wrong. For Yiryeong, I would not have cared what became of the Demonic Sect.
"Then what do you want from me? For me to die quietly?"
"That would be most ideal, yes, but I gave up on that when I saw how stubbornly you cling to life. There is no way to stop you from becoming Young Sect Leader. You’re seventeen and already on the verge of Transcendence. What could I possibly do to stop you?"
The old man had seen through my level exactly. In other words, I was still far beneath him.
I hadn’t sensed any aura from him at all, but instinct told me the truth. He was a monster who had gone beyond Transcendence and reached Hwakyung.
"Instead, let’s make a deal."
"A deal?"
"Yes. I have only two conditions. Even if you become Young Sect Leader and then Sect Leader, you will not throw that position away. And you will not drag the cult into chaos or ruin."
He seemed intent on binding me to the cult. For this old man, the safety of the Demonic Sect was everything. Everything else was probably meaningless to him.
"Then what do I gain?"
"I’ll grant you what you want. So long as it does not violate the conditions I’ve set, anything."
What I wanted was Yiryeong, nothing else. Keeping my promise to her was the whole meaning of my life.
I stood there and looked down at my own body.
A loathsome body drenched in blood, spewing demonic qi in every direction.
I couldn’t return to Yiryeong like this. She would surely be disappointed. Worse, I would put her in danger.
If she were seen in contact with a demon like me, it was obvious how the righteous sects would look at her.
"How to hide demonic qi. Anything is fine. That is all I want."
"Hahaha!"
The old man’s mouth split wide as he laughed.
"So that was it... There were always a few like you. Men who still had ties to the Central Plains and wanted to go back."
His laughter stopped, and he looked at me.
"None of them ever went back. There is no way to hide demonic qi."
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