Serial Murders in the Heavenly Demon Cult: A Night Without a Culprit in Tianshan Shinshi

The headquarters of the Heavenly Demon Cult, Tianshan Shinshi, was a massive city built atop the ruins where the survivors of the Blazing Flower Cult had settled long ago. Its scale easily surpassed most mid-sized cities in the Central Plains. The population was just as diverse: descendants of the Blazing Flower Cult, nearby barbarians, defectors from the Central Plains who had sworn allegiance to the Cult, and even entire factions from the Evil and Demonic paths that had fled persecution to resettle here. One could not forget the kidnapped artisans and their families who had been forcibly relocated either. With its population, territory, and numerous powerful martial groups, the Heavenly Demon Cult was essentially a small nation unto itself.

Yet the Cult had one massive problem. Ever since the legendary Mucheon-daeje had stolen their supreme divine art and hidden it away somewhere, they had a Jijon but no Heavenly Demon. A Heavenly Demon Cult without its Heavenly Demon. It was like meat dumplings with no filling. The outer appearance might look convincing enough, but that was all. They had placed a legitimate bloodline on the seat of Jijon, but without the divine art, he was nothing more than a ruler in name only.

Cheong, listening to Gyeon Po-hui’s explanation, nodded along. “So you’re talking about that Jijon loser, Senior Sister.”

“Yeah! Wait, what!? No!! You can’t say such bad words!”

A startled Gyeon Po-hui quickly clapped a hand over Cheong’s mouth. Calling the Jijon a loser was blasphemous. If the enforcers from the Disciplinary Hall heard it—or any of the other senior sisters, for that matter—Cheong’s head would fly off her shoulders.

Cheong mumbled around the hand covering her mouth, emphasizing again. “Jijon the punk.”

“Tsk. No. If you use bad words, you become a bad girl.”

Who was calling who a bad girl? Cheong was so dumbfounded she simply shut her mouth.

“The Jijon is still in an incomplete state. But once he recovers the divine art—!”

“Then?”

“He has sealed his own meridians and dantian. He will enter qi deviation through the divine art, then rise like a great phoenix and leap beyond Talma to become the magnificent future Heavenly Demon!”

So that was the setting for the Nature Realm whiner. To Cheong it sounded exactly like a gambler swearing he would definitely pay back the money with interest. Speaking of which.

“Rise like a great phoenix? Such a fancy word. Do you even know what it means, Senior Sister?”

“I don’t! I heard it during lecture time!”

This was the tragedy of rote education.

“When that day comes, one hundred thousand cult members commanded by the strongest Heavenly Demon in history will sweep across the Central Plains, defeat the oppressors, and raise the holy flames of our Cult!”

It wasn’t Heavenly Demon spirit. It was straight-up Heavenly Winged Horse spirit. Cheong asked, utterly baffled, “What do you even do after raising the holy flames?”

“How would I know? The important people probably do!”

Well. If she stayed that cheerfully ignorant, maybe it was for the best.

Still, the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, huh… Cheong summoned her martial arts window. Heavenly Demon Divine Art, search.

Cheong flipped to the next page, then the one after that. Ten techniques, then another ten, then more. Thirty-seven in total. Every single one framed in purple. What the hell was this? If everything was purple, what did that make the other purple techniques? And why were there so many sword arts and half-sword styles? Did you need a servant just to carry all the weapons? Swap them out every other fight? Thoroughly fed up, Cheong closed the window.

According to Seomun Su-rin, supreme divine arts were so difficult that most people never reached great success even after training their entire lives. Cheong had assumed the purple border represented that level of difficulty. Even with her cheat-like training method, purple techniques accumulated points at a completely different rate than the ones below. They ate up about two and a half times more training points than the gold-grade ones right below them. When was she supposed to learn thirty-seven of them? Maybe she could just cherry-pick the ones she wanted?

Cheong asked Gyeon Po-hui, “Senior Sister, what’s the most famous divine art?”

“What do you mean, among the divine arts? There is only one divine art, Junior Sister. The Heavenly Demon Divine Art! Unique under heaven and on earth! Unprecedented and unrepeatable! Ruler of the Northern Dipper! Nonexistent in past or present!”

“Do you actually know what any of those words mean?”

“Of course! They all mean it’s really, really amazing!”

This girl was hopeless. She knew absolutely nothing. Cheong decided she would casually ask the old man about it later.

“Never mind. I want to look around the city a bit.”

“Okay! Have fun!”

Cheong’s eyes narrowed. What was this? Was she refusing to act as a pedestal? What value did a non-pedestal evil person even have? Cheong issued her final ultimatum. “Shouldn’t Senior Sister carry me?”

“Huh!? Me!? Why!?”

Gyeon Po-hui asked back fiercely. But seriously, why was this girl always so loud…?

“Since you’re my senior sister, isn’t it only natural that you take care of your junior sister who has bad legs?”

“What are you talking about!? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Why would a senior sister take care of her junior!?”

“Then what exactly do senior sisters do?”

“Well, when we’re bored we gather the junior sisters, curse at them, punch their solar plexus, kick their shins? Use them as chairs or tables, make them clean the room, do laundry, attend to our baths. Or bring over the men we’ve captured.”

“……?”

“Oh, right. Since you’re a new junior sister you need to be careful, so I’ll tell you specially. You have to be really careful when the second-generation senior sisters call for you.”

“And?”

“Senior Sister Ok always calls people over, pinches their breasts while pretending it hurts, then whips them. But you can’t just endure it either. Last time Senior Sister Ham held out and her nipple got ripped off. So if Senior Sister Ok calls you, it’s best to start pretending it hurts right away. And Senior Sister Dap forces you to eat raw meat, and if you throw up she makes you pick it up and swallow it again……”

Gyeon Po-hui explained in detail about the second-generation disciples one had to watch out for. She even rolled up her sleeves and pulled down her collar at times to show the countless scars covering her body. It was the ultimate evolved form of brutal hazing.

Of course, the disciples of the Palace of Joyful Harmony had their own excuses. They could say that they suffered the same treatment from their own seniors, so why should they be the only ones to endure it? And once you joined a faction, if you didn’t properly terrorize the younger ones and instill fear, they might stab you in the back someday. The reality of the strong-eat-the-weak world was used to encourage active participation. Traditionally, hazing flowed downward like a waterfall of abuse. Among them, the youngest, weakest, and gentlest Gyeon Po-hui had been everyone’s favorite punching bag. If you excluded her face, neck, hands, and feet, there was hardly a spot on her body that remained untouched.

Cheong looked disgusted. So this was what they did to junior sisters? Then—

“So now you’re planning to do all that to me?”

Cheong subtly began raising her qi. The ever-eager Self-Rotating Demonic Qi sensed her will and immediately burst out from her dantian.

“I was going to, but Junior Sister, your legs are already crippled—ah, sorry. Your legs are uncomfortable, so it feels too pitiful.”

Cheong withdrew her qi. The Self-Rotating Demonic Qi seemed to hesitate for a moment before reluctantly returning. What the hell? Just what kind of life had this girl been living?

“Then it seems like you’ll only get beaten if you stay here anyway. Wouldn’t it be better to just go out with me?”

“But if I leave my spot and they notice, tomorrow……”

No wonder she had disappeared after breakfast. She must have been dragged around getting “educated” all day long. Wait. What about me? I’m the new youngest now, aren’t I? How come they never called for me?

When Cheong asked about it, Gyeon Po-hui laughed sheepishly. “Actually they did tell me to bring you, but since you just got here and haven’t adapted yet… and your legs are bad……”

Cheong was speechless. So this brainless idiot had completely ruined all her fun time.

“Ha. You really are a fucking idiot.”

“Huh!? Eh? Me……?”

“I’m so frustrated I could explode. Explode. Why do you live like that?”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

“I, what did I even do……”

Gyeon Po-hui’s face crumpled like she was about to cry. Cheong let out a deep sigh.

“That Ok senior sister? She called for me too, right?”

“Uh… yeah……”

Gyeon Po-hui answered hesitantly. Cheong spoke with unyielding determination.

“Forget it. Carry me over to her.”

Ok Hwa-hwa was the fifth disciple of the second generation. She had caught the eye of Yeom Hui-ji, the fourth disciple of the first generation, and joined her faction, where she served as the chief disciplinarian. After finishing dinner and feeling bored, she had been wondering who to call over for some “education.”

Right on cue, someone knocked politely on the door and shouted.

“Senior Sister Ok! This lowly one! From the third generation! It is Gyeon Po-hui!”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Ok Hwa-hwa pondered for a moment. That idiot Gyeon Po-hui was never any fun to torment. The brainless girl had no venom and no spine; she would simply cry buckets like the idiot she was. Hadn’t Ok Hwa-hwa already given her a lesson this morning when she tried to hide the new youngest instead of bringing her? It had been utterly boring.

Someone with no skill and no spirit was no fun at a—wait. Hold on. Hadn’t that new youngest eaten the seventh disciple of the third generation this morning and taken her place? Ok Hwa-hwa thought for a moment. Maybe she should tell her senior sister and bring the new girl into their faction?

Gyeon Po-hui’s voice called out again.

“As you instructed! I have brought Junior Sister Seo!”

Ok Hwa-hwa tilted her head. Junior Sister Seo? Definitely Seomun Cheong. So her surname was Seomun? It wasn’t an uncommon name, but it wasn’t one normally given ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to daughters in the Seo clan. It would get confused with the Seomun clan. Still, it wasn’t a name that was completely forbidden.

“Enter.”

“Yes ma’am! Third generation! Gyeon Po-hui! Entering!”

Good. Time to see the fresh face of this lively new recruit. Ok Hwa-hwa smiled wickedly.

Unfortunately, confirming the new recruit’s face ended up taking quite a while.

The moment the door opened and she tried to get a look at the new face—

Sudden stinging pain in her left shin. Then the right shin as well.

“Ouch!”

Ok Hwa-hwa let out a cute little yelp and looked down. Two ornamental hairpins were sticking out of both her shins. Huh? Why were these embedded here?

Only after visually confirming the wounds did the terrible agony hit her. Ok Hwa-hwa drew in a huge breath to scream—

“Guh. Huurk.”

She thought she heard a bell ringing as a heavy impact struck her solar plexus, forcing all the air from her lungs. She immediately rolled off the bed. The dinner she had just eaten came rushing back up all at once.

“Senior Sister. Close the door.”

“Yeah! Got it!”

Click. The door locked.

The high altitude of Tianshan Shinshi made the early summer evenings pleasantly cool. It felt wonderful. Cheong, nestled comfortably in her living pedestal’s arms, had clear, sparkling eyes.

“Hmm-hmm……”

The second-generation pedestal seemed to be in a good mood too. Her skin glowed with unusual luster and her face was as bright as the sun while she hummed a little tune.

The third generation’s youngest—no, seventh disciple, the second-rate martial artist Gyeon Po-hui no longer existed. In her place stood only Gyeon Po-hui, fifth disciple of the second generation, who had just stepped into the entry level of first-rate.