The Heavenly Demon's Son Decided to Run Away
Crash!
"Guh..."
Another deafening boom rang out—how many had it been now?—and once again, I collapsed onto the flagstones of the sparring grounds.
"Tsk. How is it that across three entire double-hours, you failed to counter a single one of my movements? I had no idea you were such a talentless half-wit. When you absorbed that internal energy so smoothly yesterday, I actually held out hope. It seems my eye for talent has finally rotted away."
I couldn't do a thing. My limbs refused to obey me; every fiber from my shoulders down to my calves burned with sheer agony. I couldn't move so much as a finger. And inside my chest, something felt sickeningly loose, rattling with every shallow breath. Did she... break my ribs?
"Sama Hyeol, clear this useless wretch from my sight at once. I cannot bear to look at him. That last strike shattered his third right rib and his second left. Tend to him."
Without a word, Sama Hyeol approached and slid an arm beneath me to help me up. Above my bowed head, that merciless voice rang down once more.
"Urgh..."
"What? Can you not endure even this? Tomorrow's spar will be of the exact same caliber. Do not dare think I will go easy on you like I did yesterday. If you cannot stomach it, then get out of the Heavenly Demon Cult this instant! A weakling has no right to call himself my son!"
A thick mouthful of blood surged up my throat, splattering onto the stone. Yet Mother didn't spare me a single backward glance as she turned on her heel and strode into the main pavilion.
"Rest comfortably, Young Master. I shall remain on standby outside."
With Sama Hyeol supporting my weight, I somehow managed to limp all the way back to my quarters. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I was left utterly alone.
Honestly speaking... my body didn't hurt as much as it should have. Sama Hyeol had administered quick treatment, but more than that, stepping into the Peak Realm had fundamentally altered my constitution. My flesh knit far faster than before, and the throbbing pain receded with astonishing speed.
Even so, the image of Mother from earlier refused to leave my mind. The way she had relentlessly driven her strikes into me without the slightest ounce of mercy, uncaring whether I vomited blood, broke bones, or collapsed in the dirt.
Was that truly for my own good? Really? Come to think of it... was any part of the brutal training she forced upon me over the past fifteen years ever meant to help me?
I slowly raised my trembling arm. Most of the bruises and stinging ache had dulled, but Mother's merciless assault still lingered fresh against my skin. And she had sworn to do the exact same thing tomorrow. Is this... is this truly how a parent is supposed to treat their child?
Something is wrong. What did I do wrong? Was it even my fault to begin with?
A powerful conviction took root in my chest: Mother was treating me terribly. But could I—or anyone else, for that matter—ever hope to stop her? Who would dare stand between the Heavenly Demon and her whims when tomorrow arrived?
'Can you not endure even this?'
'If you cannot stomach it, then get out of the Heavenly Demon Cult this instant!'
'A weakling has no right to call himself my son!'
Those had been her exact words. If I proved powerless, Mother genuinely intended to cast me out of the cult—out of my own home.
"..."
I wanted to run.
This wasn't what I had ever wanted. All I truly wished for was to spend peaceful, gentle days with Wolha and Mother. I had endured the grueling training only so I could beat back outside invaders who might threaten us, or lend a helping hand whenever Mother or Wolha struggled. I never wanted to live like this—beaten half to death day after day without a shred of warmth or reward.
'If you cannot stomach it, then get out of the Heavenly Demon Cult this instant!'
"...Fine. I'm leaving."
Yes. I would leave.
Perhaps... perhaps the outside world held something far better than this place, something I had never been permitted to know. It might be a reckless, impulsive choice, but I couldn't bear to endure another round of such agonizing torment.
I pushed myself up from the bed. The Peak Realm truly was marvelous; in the brief span I had spent brooding, my body had already regained its vigor.
"Take this... and this..."
I strapped on the sword I always used and packed a pouch with a few gold ingots. Whatever lay ahead, I would find a way to manage.
I slipped open the window and vaulted silently outside. Even to my own eyes, fleeing like this felt pitifully cowardly. But I couldn't bear the thought of Mother or Wolha watching me make such a pathetic, disgraceful departure.
I slipped past the eaves and darted down a narrow alleyway, only to make direct eye contact with a passing cultist.
"Huh? Youngest Young Mas—urk!"
I drove the edge of my palm into his neck, dropping him instantly into unconsciousness.
Reaching the cult's main gate on foot would take quite a while, and the moment another person caught sight of me, they would undoubtedly try to drag me back. Can I truly slip away unnoticed?
"Y-Young Master, what in the world are you..."
As if to shatter my faint hope, a voice echoed from my right. Turning my head, I saw another cultist staring in wide-eyed horror. There was no mistaking that expression—he had witnessed the entire takedown.
"W-Wait a moment!"
"The Young Master has attacked one of our own!"
Damn it!
I kicked off the flagstones, launching myself straight onto the outer fortress wall, and sprinted along the parapet at full tilt.
Bwoooo!
The deep, mournful wail of a horn shattered the silence. An enemy raid signal!
"Seize him!"
"Halt right there!"
"Young Master!"
Cultists swarmed from every direction, closing in on my trail. I had to get away. The perimeter was just ahead—if I could just cross that final threshold...!
I cleared a dozen outer walls in rapid succession, hurtling over the outermost main gate in a single sweeping arc before sticking the landing on the other side.
Fast.
I was the one moving, yet my own speed terrified me.
"Did I... did I always move this quickly, this easily?"
I skidded to a halt for a split second and stared down at my hands in disbelief. It made no sense. What I had just pulled off was incomparably more demanding than any sprint I had ever attempted, yet my breath wasn't even ragged.
The shouts of the pursuing cultists drifted from surprisingly far behind. Did I put that much distance between us already?
Before I could fully process the absurdity, the massive fortress gates groaned open, revealing dozens of cultists glaring straight at me.
"Young Master, attempting to desert is a grave crime that even someone of your station cannot easily escape..."
The instant my eyes met the lead warrior's, I burst into motion once more.
I had to run.
I had to slip from Mother's clutches.
Anywhere would do—any place where her long, suffocating shadow could never reach me.
"Capture him! Squads One and Two, fan out left and right! Squad Three, follow me down the center!"
I kept running, pushing my legs until no one could hope to catch up. Perched atop a jagged mountain peak, the Heavenly Demon Cult required a frantic dash down winding forest trails to escape. But none of that mattered to me now.
"Captain, we can't close the distance! He's far too fast!"
The desperate shout echoed faintly from behind, until even the roar of their voices dissolved into the rustle of the wind.
All I wanted was to keep running like this. To escape the Heavenly Demon Cult, and never look back.
"Heh heh... He was quicker on the uptake than I anticipated. I thought I would have to beat and torment him for at least three full days before he found the resolve to leave."
I, the Heavenly Demon, Cheon Maseong, stood atop the highest vantage point of the cult's grand pavilion, wearing an amused smirk as I watched the grand pursuit of my third son unfold below.
That boy had more spine than I gave him credit for.
"That only proves how harsh Your Cult Leadership was to him earlier today. Honestly speaking, even in my eyes, it was excessively cruel. The young master has barely stepped into the Peak Realm—how could anyone expect him to deflect strikes that would trouble even a master of the Transcendent Realm?"
My direct adjutant spoke up from behind, his tone laden with subtle protest. We had rarely exchanged words lately, so hearing him speak with genuine emotion only made the spectacle more entertaining.
"Thank you for the praise, Sama Hyeol. That simply means my intentions and actions bore fruit. My knack for molding people hasn't dulled in the slightest."
"Do you have any idea how bewildered I was? This morning, you claimed the young master showed immense potential and that you wished to speak with him alone. Then by midday, you suddenly declared that you needed to drive him out of the cult."
"I never said I would drive him out. I distinctly stated that I would make him leave on his own two feet."
"It amounts to the exact same thing! And after saying all that, you proceeded to brutalize him on the training grounds without a shred of restraint..."
My, he certainly had a lot to say today. It was rare to see this taciturn man so worked up.
Well, even I had to admit my actions this afternoon had been somewhat unreasonable. What was it I had told him when I summoned him at noon?
'I need to make my third son walk out of the Heavenly Demon Cult on his own.'
'Pardon?'
'I intend to begin the preparations immediately. I'll use a spar on the training grounds as an excuse to torment him, so go bring him to me at once.'
Sama Hyeol had worn such an utterly dumbfounded expression when he dragged the boy over. His face had truly been a sight to behold.
"So, will you finally explain? Why were you so excessively cruel to Young Master Cheon Hwayeom? Did you not say yourself that he possessed the greatest talent of all?"
Naturally, he would be curious. There was no need to keep it a secret, so I answered plainly.
"Sama Hyeol, what do you believe is the single greatest virtue a child of the Heavenly Demon must possess?"
"Well... martial prowess, perhaps? Or leadership?"
Predictable. A hopelessly cliché answer, no different from what any greenhorn in the marketplace would stammer out.
"Wrong. What is required... is intense, insatiable desire."
Sama Hyeol cocked his head, clearly struggling to grasp my meaning.
"Is such a thing... truly necessary? I have rarely seen Your Cult Leadership, the Heavenly Demon herself, display a fierce longing for anything."
"What nonsense are you babbling? What do you think my current ambition is? Is it not to forge my children into another Heavenly Demon, endowed with might rivaling my own? How could you call that a weak desire? Go ask any of the righteous sects. If they could gain a martial artist of my caliber, they would gladly pay mountains of gold without a second thought. And yet you claim my desire is lacking?"
"Well... I understand that much. But why must the young master possess such desire? Has he not followed his training faithfully up until now?"
Seeing this usually tight-lipped fellow babble on like a toddler who had just learned to speak made me feel like loosening my own tongue.
I walked over to the corner of the chamber and brought out my prized jar of plum blossom wine.
"Let's see... I should send word to the kitchens to prepare something lavish and expensive. Do you require any other liquor?"
It had been ages since I shared a drink with him, so it was only fitting to pour something that slid down the throat smoothly. It was top-grade vintage, stolen on a whim when I paid a secretive little visit to Mount Hua not long ago.
When all was said and done, those Mount Hua bastards clearly had far more talent for running a brewery than practicing martial arts.