A Private Audience with the Blood Demon Lord, Part 2
The towering iron doors opened, revealing the Blood Cult’s sacred domain. The air in the Cult Leader’s Palace was not merely cold; it was sharp enough to cut.
With every step I took, it felt as though the darkness all around me was raking its fingers over my skin.
Even after facing countless powerhouses in my previous life as the Necromancer King, my instincts were screaming at me.
Far ahead, high upon the throne, a man sat slouched to one side.
Normally, at this distance, a person’s aura would be surging toward me like a tidal wave.
I had already felt a presence in an elder I’d met before that reached the uppermost level of Swordmaster. And yet, if this was the Blood Demon, the master of the Blood Cult, I’d expected such overwhelming pressure that I wouldn’t even be able to breathe.
But something was off.
...I can’t feel anything.
Even with a person sitting right in front of me, my senses told me the space there was empty.
This wasn’t just the suppression of aura. It was a level where even existence itself couldn’t be perceived.
That state of nothingness was somehow even more chilling.
That’s not human.
Upper Swordmaster was said to be the limit of what a human could reach. So was there nothing beyond that?
Of course there was. I had seen such beings a handful of times even in my previous life: Bahamut, the primordial dragon forefather of all dragons; Leonhart, the Lion King who became the origin of knights; and Miland, the great mage who wrote the history of magic.
They had all been monsters who overwhelmed even me in my former life, and I survived only because they did not concern themselves with the present world.
I didn’t think the Blood Demon was on the same level as any of them. But at the very least, he was not something I could judge by the standards of a human being.
“Come closer.”
The low voice rang out, and I snapped back to myself. Even his voice sounded as though it entered my eardrums directly, without so much as rippling the air.
As I slowly climbed the steps, an old man came into view.
Elder Sama Hwi, the one who had bestowed the Death Blood Demon Art upon me.
Even at the initiation ceremony, when he had been seated in calm repose as an overwhelming expert, he was now standing straight with his back rigid, frozen in perfect stillness.
When I stopped at the foot of the throne, the Blood Demon’s eyes emerged from the darkness.
Crimson pupils, deeper than blood itself, pierced straight through me.
“So you are the disciple who learned the Death Blood Demon Art and returned alive from Black Valley.”
“Disciple Wang Saryeong greets the Cult Leader.”
I bowed politely. The gaze pouring down on me felt like a blade so sharp it could dissect my body and strip even my soul naked.
It was as if not only the power I’d hidden, but even the memories of my previous life, were being peeled open for inspection.
The Blood Demon stared at me for a long while before a strange smile touched his lips and he spoke.
“In my earliest childhood, I once saw the Third Blood Demon from afar. He was the man who made the righteous faction fear the Blood Cult.
He was a monster against whom even now, I could not guarantee victory.”
There was longing in the Blood Demon’s voice, as though he were reminiscing about the past, but beneath it lay a cold, thirsty hunger.
“There was no one in this cult capable of inheriting his vision, so I never had the chance to verify the truth of his strength.
Yet I’ve been told you resemble his constitution to a remarkable degree.”
He rose slowly from his seat. With every step he took, I had the absurd sensation that the entire Cult Leader’s Palace was screaming and trembling in pain.
He descended the stairs and stopped directly in front of me.
“I’m curious about the result.”
The Blood Demon slowly reached out a hand. I didn’t think of dodging, nor did I think of resisting.
It was simply inevitable.
“Will you truly be able to reach his realm, or are you merely someone whose constitution happened to match?”
His hand came to rest on my head.
At that moment—
“...Urgh! Aaaagh!!!”
An explosive surge of energy slammed into me and rampaged through my body without restraint.
This was not merely a transfer of power. It felt like molten lava boiling through my veins, burning every muscle in my body and grinding my bones into powder.
The force violently tore through my dantian and savagely ravaged the Sagi coiled within it.
“If you wish to resist that ominous death energy dwelling in your body, then you’ll have to endure a trial like this.”
The threshold of death flickered before my eyes. With agony threatening to burst my entire body apart, I clenched my teeth so hard I thought they might shatter, refusing to let my mind slip.
Blood trickled from my gums, and my eyes felt as though they might roll back into my skull, but I did not close them.
Endure... If I die here, it’s all over.
If the Blood Demon had wanted to kill me, he could have done it with a single gesture.
The fact that he was going through this troublesome process at all meant he was testing me.
In the end, I had to endure it.
How much time passed? The energy that had flooded my mind and painted everything in red gradually receded, and my vision returned.
“Hah... hah...”
I collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. My whole body was soaked in sweat, and I didn’t even have the strength to move a finger.
But the change inside me was astonishing.
The blood qi, which had previously been pitiful compared to my death energy, was rapidly swelling to match it.
The transcendent being had forcibly amplified my absurdly insufficient blood qi.
Now death energy and blood qi meshed together like interlocking gears, generating a massive force.
“A reward.”
Leaving those words behind, the Blood Demon returned to his throne.
A reward, he said. One more “reward” like that and he’d probably kill a man outright.
“Go and grow stronger. When you’ve reached a level that satisfies me, I’ll call for you again.
When that time comes, you’ll have to come prepared to wager your life.”
I forced my trembling legs beneath me and got to my feet. I clasped my hands in salute and lowered my head.
“I am grateful for the Cult Leader’s boundless grace.”
After paying my respects, I dragged my shaking legs out of the Cult Leader’s Palace.
Though I had suffered agony that felt like death itself, the power bestowed by the Cult Leader was real.
.
.
.
As soon as Wang Saryeong left the Cult Leader’s Palace, the Blood Demon let out a quiet laugh.
“Kuhahah!”
The Cult Leader was laughing. What was this madness? The Cult Leader, whom everyone believed had long ago transcended life and death and lost all emotion, was laughing?
Sama Hwi, who stood at his side, lowered his head in confusion and asked, “Cult Leader, did you take a liking to that boy?”
To anyone else, it looked like he had simply been tormenting Wang Saryeong. But Sama Hwi had seen it clearly.
What had flowed into Wang Saryeong was not ordinary energy, but the Blood Demon’s own power.
To bestow something like that meant the issue was not whether he liked him or not.
Perhaps he was being considered as a successor, something that would surely shock the other elders.
The Blood Demon propped his chin on one hand and stared at the door through which Wang Saryeong had vanished.
“He was an interesting one. Just what is he hiding, I wonder? Even I couldn’t see into that abyss.”
“Pardon?”
The startled Sama Hwi blurted the word before he could think.
The Cult Leader, who had transcended life and death, was practically a god. And yet such a being could not see through a mere human.
That meant the boy named Wang Saryeong was hiding something more profound than even the Cult Leader himself.
“I will investigate thoroughly.”
Sama Hwi intended to keep a close watch on Wang Saryeong, who might become a danger to the cult.
But the Blood Demon raised a hand to stop him.
“Leave him be.”
“But he may be a threat to the cult.”
“He is not a threat.”
“Then...”
“He would be a calamity.”
“!!?”
A calamity. If the Blood Demon himself used that word, then this was no ordinary matter.
“Should I summon the elders at once...”
“That boy will become a calamity to the martial world. If he were born of our cult, what do you think that would mean?”
Sama Hwi’s imagination ran wild.
The Blood Demon, or someone even stronger than him, sweeping through the martial world. And if that person were born of the Blood Cult...
“Our cult’s standing would rise to a degree beyond measure.”
Perhaps even beyond the demonic sect that gave birth to the Blood Cult itself.
Swallowing those words inwardly, Sama Hwi asked the Blood Demon, “Then should we simply raise the boy more?”
The Blood Demon was silent for a moment, then turned his gaze back with a look of interest.
“Sama Hwi.”
“Yes, Cult Leader.”
“Aren’t there far too few chances these days for the young bloodline of the cult to prove their ability?”
Sama Hwi tried to infer the Cult Leader’s intent and answered carefully, “Three months from now, there will be a martial contest for the children who will undergo their coming-of-age ceremony.”
“Children who have completed their coming-of-age ceremony, you say. But there are also children who have not yet done so.”
“That is correct.”
“Wouldn’t those children also need a chance to prove themselves?”
“Do you mean a contest for those under the age of adulthood? That could break the very seedlings who will one day shoulder the cult’s future.”
What kind of place was the Blood Cult? It was called a fanatical cult even more brutal than the demonic sect.
If a martial contest were held there, there would certainly be a fair number of deaths.
Those who had already undergone the coming-of-age ceremony might at least know enough restraint to hold back. The younger ones would not.
“I’ll choose a disciple from among those children.”
“...!”
The Blood Demon’s disciple. Since the three original disciples, no new disciple had appeared for quite some time.
People had assumed the next generation of cult leader candidates was fixed at three, and yet he was choosing another one.
Still, even if one were chosen now, the age gap and difference in years of training would make the gulf between them and the senior disciples overwhelming.
“You think that highly of that boy?”
The Blood Demon was saying Wang Saryeong would become strong enough to defeat his senior disciples.
“I merely want to see him fight.”
Smiling, the Blood Demon’s eyes, gleaming with madness, proved once again that he was the Blood Demon indeed.
Sama Hwi felt a chill run down his spine and bowed deeply.
The first underage martial contest in the Blood Cult’s history. At its center would stand Wang Saryeong.