The Black Lotus Blooms
Three months.
Looking back on the time behind me, I believed I had run with everything I had. To any outside observer, my growth rate would have seemed downright absurd. Someone might sneer that it was nothing but talent, but I had done the very best I was capable of. I cut my sleep short and trained. I drafted plans down to the finest detail, discarded what deserved discarding, and seized whatever could be seized.
Not that I could deny the cheat codes. The Multidimensional Shop let me buy talent outright, and with the Body of Defying Heaven and the power of the Black God Martial Art, I had claimed the strongest martial meridians from the very start. Somewhere along the way, I also picked up a happy accident named Heukcheon. That one, I could only call luck.
Heukcheon became my greatest teacher. She scrubbed away my bad habits, encouraged me at my side, and helped me however she could—teaching me exactly how to forge the places where I fell short.
The Black God Martial Art tempers the body. It tunes the flesh down to its finest threads. You feel where your blood flows, the shift of your organs, the beat of your heart—and by will alone you can stop them, or set them moving. Acceleration had been added to my body's growth. Passing through all of those processes, I grew. And after I obtained the Star God Eye, I came to see a great many things.
[The proficiency of the Black God Martial Art is rising.]
Which was why, when I laid eyes on the man known as the Second Elder, I couldn't help but be disappointed.
Weaker than I'd expected. Far weaker.
At this level, he was barely a Mid-Grade. And Mid-Grade was not a rank that deserved the word "barely"—scour the entire world, count heroes alone, and the rank still boasted some ten thousand souls. Throw in demons and Villains, and even if the number swelled exponentially, it wouldn't quite reach fifteen thousand.
And yet.
Weak.
Weak was all I felt. A laugh slipped out of me before I noticed. I wasn't even Mid-Grade myself. For all the cheat codes I'd gathered, I was still stuck at what you'd call a wall.
Low-Grade. A level more than ample even by the standards of Korea Hero Academy. My level wasn't high. The Body of Defying Heaven, the Black God Martial Art, the Star God Eye, the Concept Stats—strip those away, and I would have been just another student. Top of the class wouldn't even have been a dream.
And yet, for a mere Low-Grade like me, a Mid-Grade looked hopelessly weak.
Have I gotten cocky?
"It is not."
Heukcheon dismissed the thought at once.
"Your growth rate is staggering, Master—so much so that I can hardly believe a mere three months have passed since you first took up the martial arts."
"Lord Seoha is growing at a pace without precedent."
"But measured in absolute realm, Master, you are weak."
True. Just as Heukcheon said, I was weak. And yet, laughably enough, I was also strong.
"The Black God Martial Art is a mighty art. A martial art steeped in the will to kill foes who stand a rank above oneself."
I gazed ahead. Everything about my opponents lay bare before my eyes—their habits, their weaknesses, all of it.
"So do as you wish, Master. You have talent. You have power. Do not hesitate."
A laugh escaped me at Heukcheon's words. She had put her finger precisely on the spot where I was hesitating.
Shall I take it out, then?
Suddenly, I was curious. What faces would they make if I drew Heukcheon? Shock, at first. Then that Small Heavenly Demon whelp would try to kill me, and the two old men would flounder while they watched how things unfolded. The Jecheon Society was hardly a righteous organization—people mired in the past, who had committed injustice and become Villains for it.
Shaaah!
I gripped the sword.
"Elder, shall I take those ones alive as well?"
"Yes."
"Shall I handle one of them myself?"
"That would help."
"Hoh! So you did acknowledge me after all."
"...?"
Park Unhyeok wore a thoroughly smug expression. I snorted a laugh and faced forward.
"You trash. Do you even know what stands before you?"
"We know. Aren't you just a blustering little brat?"
Park Unhyeok fired back at the Small Heavenly Demon's words.
"Show the Elder some respect, you trash. He is not a man the likes of you may address so carelessly."
Seol Hwaryeon said, her voice thick with killing intent.
"You trash!"
At the lightest of provocations, the Small Heavenly Demon leapt. A provocation with nothing but power behind it. Black mist coiled around him.
Crackle!
Lightning flashed, and Park Unhyeok shot forward. Seol Hwaryeon raised her twin swords. I stepped out ahead of them. The Small Heavenly Demon was strong, but he was no match for them.
The ones behind him were the problem.
The two old men were studying me intently.
"You there. How did you come to wield that sword art?"
"Was it leaked? Impossible. The Divine Cult's sword arts are kept under the strictest... I see. So when the outsiders invaded, they stole our sword arts, did they?"
The Second Elder's eyes darkened. He fixed me with a gloomy stare, and I tightened my grip on my sword.
"The sheer audacity. Discarded scraps, cast away for lacking even the energy of Defying Heaven—and they dare bare their teeth."
"Lord Seoha, shall we... dispose of them?"
Heukcheon and Yeongcheon spoke with grim menace. All sorts of stray thoughts drifted through my head.
This would be my first time killing a person.
Demons weren't people. They were closer to beasts. But between demons and Villains, there was no difference in what they did. The only difference was whether this world would grant them rest or not.
My deliberation was brief. I had decided.
Let's use Defying Heaven.
I would kill them all in a single stroke. I quietly drew Defying Heaven up from within. Ever since the Concept Stat Defying Heaven had risen, its dominion had climbed to an absurd degree—and thanks to that, there was a great deal I could do now.
"...Good heavens. To think you could wield the energy of Defying Heaven that covertly."
"Your dominion has grown again."
Black Defying Heaven condensed inside me. I put one foot forward, compressing it right up to the brink of eruption—then lunged at the old men.
"This is—!"
The energy of Defying Heaven burst out of me like something gone berserk. Shock drained the color from both elders' faces.
As though it had burst forth, a black single wing appeared at my back.
Kiiiiing!
The wing expanded. And then it began to change—splitting into dozens of strands, each one sharpening to a razor's edge, until at last it took the shape of a flower.
"Impossible—this is impossible!"
The Second Elder raised his sword in horror. The Small Heavenly Demon, caught inside the Black Lotus Flower's radius, frantically compressed black mist in front of him.
Kagagagagak!
The Black Lotus Flower became a small storm and swept everything away.
Slowly.
Slowly, and yet fast. Inspiration bubbled up in my mind. I had hesitated to bring out the Black Wing before. Attacking with the wings looked impressive at a glance, but they were far too unwieldy to handle. It was like wielding dozens of swords at once—and the trouble wasn't hands or feet. I had to chart every single blade's path with my own will, and there were dozens of them.
I can do this.
The Concept Stat, Defying Heaven. And my dexterity pressed at my back, whispering that I could swing them faster, more precisely—that my limits were nowhere near this low. Without another moment's hesitation, I swung the Black Wing.
They denied the power of my enemies. They shattered swords, broke qi armor, and at last crushed everything the Jecheon Society had.
"How boring."
Honestly, she was bored. It hardly counted as exercise after a meal.
Merhen—an illustrious house of Britain. Villains had staged a professional infiltration into that family, each with their own purpose. For the sake of her family's name, and in hopes of opponents who might offer a sliver of enjoyment, Erciel had taken the field herself. And they were... far weaker than she'd imagined, and utterly joyless.
The invading Villains had already sorted themselves into two varieties: those lying wounded and wheezing, and those caught in Erciel's illusions and converted into her obedient subordinates.
"Good heavens... they said you were the greatest genius in Merhen history."
"The Jecheon Society is hardly a band of nameless Villains. How are you controlling nearly thirty of them?"
"Illusions at that level..."
Hackneyed praise. It wasn't worth the breath to answer. Erciel put on a manufactured smile and favored them with a wave of her hand.
But that person was different.
Lee Seoha had been different. Whatever she showed him, he reacted as though it were only to be expected. And when she teased that something wouldn't work, he would look back at her as if to say, Says who?
It was unlike any reaction she had ever received. It felt as though he trusted her—as though he looked upon her all the way to her very limits. That was a first for her. Others stayed indifferent no matter the interest she showed; his was a gaze that saw person to person, blind to her standing and her abilities.
It was refreshing.
Erciel stretched out her hand and flexed her fingers. The threads of mana caught at her fingertips stirred, binding the last Villain remaining.
"Not bad, hm?"
"It's a worthless little trick."
At Hong Yuhwa's question, Erciel said with a shrug.
"Looks like everything's settled. Shall we start moving?"
"Let's."
Hong Yuhwa exhaled lightly and snuffed out the flame clinging to her fingertip.
"It fascinates me every time I see it. The flame itself almost seems to have viscosity? And your mana control is superb on top of that."
"It's nothing special."
Hong Yuhwa gave that haughty reply and strode ahead, chin high—though the faint upturn at the corner of her mouth betrayed her mood perfectly.
She's secretly rather cute, too.
"By the way, did something good happen?"
"Hm? Good news? Well, there was, but I believe it vanished the moment the Villains broke in."
"Really? Your lips were turned up, so I wondered."
"......"
Erciel touched her own mouth. Just as Hong Yuhwa had said, the corners of her lips were curled upward.
......
KWAAANG!
A massive explosion thundered out—from the floor above. What on earth did they think they were doing, in someone else's home? Clicking her tongue at the discourteous Villains, Erciel headed upward.
And Erciel saw it. A flower blooming in black.
Huh?
It was a black flower. A lone wing, sweeping down toward the lower right from behind Lee Seoha's back. The wing moved. Like a flower coming into bloom, the wing blossomed.
"Black Wing!"
Melanie cried out, startled. In the same instant, Lee Seoha moved. No—the lone wing at Lee Seoha's back moved. It expanded and bloomed into dozens of branches, and those dozens of blades danced like swords endowed with a will of their own.
Lee Seoha himself never stirred. He simply stood, gazing at his enemies with an air of lofty indifference.
"Well, looks like he doesn't even need our help."
Park Unhyeok said flatly from beside her.
"As expected of the Elder!"
"Those wings are something else. Is he steering them by will alone? That's no small feat."
"Every single strike carries black power in it. That power is genuinely nasty—there's no defending against it."
Kim Ara and Kim Seohyun asked and answered between themselves.
"Why!"
One of those locked in the standoff roared.
"Why do you turn your hostility upon us!"
"Because you are my enemies."
Lee Seoha answered in a tone of perfect calm.
"O Heavenly Demon!"
"O Heavenly Demon who bears the energy of Defying Heaven! Quell your wrath, we beg you, and lead us!"
Lee Seoha looked down on them, chin raised, eyes haughty. The moment the old men met that gaze, they gave up on living.
Those were not the eyes of a human looking upon a fellow human. They were the eyes of one who had ascended, beholding something that offended him—like the resolve of a man who, finding trash in his path, simply clears the trash away.
The two old men gave up on living. And they accepted the death that came for them. To them, the Heavenly Demon of the Divine Cult had always been such an existence—their life's purpose, and their god. And because that existence wished for their deaths, they offered up their necks.
That day, two fanatics lost their lives.
— Here is the Erciel illustration. —