"...Thus, the estimated expenses for the upcoming Poxun Festival amount to approximately 57,000 taels of gold." The grand hall, usually shrouded in darkness, was unusually bright today. On either side of the towering throne, numerous demonic figures stood respectfully. The demonic aura they exuded was so intense that the very air in the hall felt scorching. Yet, no matter how overwhelming their aura, it paled in comparison to the presence of the Demon God seated on the throne.
His massive frame leaned casually on the armrest, his chin resting on his hand, his expression utterly languid. In one hand, he held a wine cup, and beside him stood an incredibly beautiful woman holding a wine jar.
A strange silence fell.
The Demon God, Yi Cheonsang, raised his cup.
Gulp, gulp.
He drank slowly, one sip at a time, emptying the cup. Even with the highest-ranking figures of the Divine Sect standing before him, the inner sect's key personnel watching, and the outer sect's leaders listening, he showed not a hint of restraint. His demeanor exuded supreme authority and boundless freedom. Though it might have been prudent to show some moderation for the sake of the elders' dignity, no such consideration was visible in him. And yet, no one dared to question him.
At that moment, a middle-aged man of imposing stature, who had been bowing on the left side of the hall, straightened his back. "The expenses have increased by 12,000 taels compared to last year. Given that the outer sect's strike teams have been dispatched, there should be many vacancies. Yet, instead of decreasing, the expenses have risen. I find this puzzling. Lady Hwanhui, would you care to explain?"
A woman stepped forward from the sixth position on the right side of the hall and bowed her head. She was the Lady of Hwanhui, So Yeonsim, a woman of enchanting beauty. Though she appeared to be in her early thirties, her actual age was close to fifty.
"Esteemed Saint, I, So Yeonsim of Hwanhui, humbly report. The participation of the four major families, led by the Demon Sword Clan, in this year's Poxun Festival has been confirmed. The Seven Families have been the guardians of our sect for centuries. Offering them appropriate gifts would be a fitting display of our sect's dignity and generosity."
Mudam, the Grand Protector, nodded. "Lady Hwanhui's words hold merit. However, the dignity of our sect has been proven by history, continues to be upheld, and will remain eternal even a thousand years from now. Moreover, if the family heads participate in the festival, they will receive the Six Heavens Heart Wine from the Sect Leader."
"..."
"The dignity and generosity of our sect are demonstrated by the Sect Leader himself, not by money. Therefore, I order you to reduce the estimated expenses and resubmit the budget documents."
"I have realized the shortcomings in my thinking. I apologize for my inadequacy and promise to submit the revised budget documents by noon tomorrow."
So Yeonsim stepped back.
The Grand Protector, Mudam, who spread the Sect Leader's holy words and made decisions on his behalf, seemed to wield immense authority. But everyone in the hall knew that Mudam was merely a puppet. His words were the Sect Leader's words. He only spoke what the Sect Leader desired. Thus, the demonic figures neither envied nor admired him. Though he enjoyed the Sect Leader's trust, he was ultimately the farthest from true power.
Mudam turned to Yi Cheonsang. Slowly, he knelt and bowed his head, his demeanor filled with reverence. "This concludes the reports on the progress of the inner and outer sect leaders' duties."
Yi Cheonsang tilted his cup to the side, and the woman beside him carefully refilled it. As he accepted the cup, he spoke. "You've all worked hard."
All the demonic figures in the hall knelt. "The Holy Sect reigns supreme, the Demon God is eternal!"
The kneeling figures then bowed their heads. "We are deeply grateful for the Saint's blessings!"
Even the Elder Council Leader, the highest authority in the sect after the Sect Leader, shouted with utmost sincerity, expressing reverence for the divine. In all the world, there was no other figure as powerful as this.
"Rise."
All the demonic figures stood up. Their movements were swift yet respectful.
Silence fell once more.
Yi Cheonsang, having emptied his cup again, spoke. "The first disciple is still in seclusion, I presume."
Mudam bowed his head. "He has yet to emerge from the Three Demon Protection Halls."
"I see."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Yi Cheonsang's gaze shifted to the left. His eyes fell on a group of young men and women standing in front of a massive stone statue at the rear of the left column.
"Second disciple."
"You called, Sect Leader."
A young man stepped forward from the front of the hall. His appearance was ordinary. Though tall, he had the kind of face you might see anywhere. But there was one thing that set him apart—an aura so cold it could extinguish a flame with a single breath.
"Will you enter seclusion again?"
Gwanpyeong, the second disciple of the Heavenly Demon Sect, bowed. "Martial arts are already ingrained in my life. Seclusion would be meaningless until I reach another turning point."
His words were bold, bordering on disrespectful given the setting. But Yi Cheonsang did not reprimand him.
"One who knows his place needs no instruction. Do as you wish."
"Thank you."
The faces of the demonic figures in the hall showed surprise. Yi Cheonsang had never summoned his disciples to such a formal gathering before. Though their status was high, they held no official positions. Why had he called them now? And his words to the second disciple were truly shocking. For someone as stingy with praise as Yi Cheonsang, this was high praise indeed.
"Fourth disciple."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Hong Wimun, the fourth disciple, stepped forward.
"You seem different from a few days ago. You've been putting in a lot of effort."
Hong Wimun bowed. "Thank you."
"But you're late."
"..."
"If you wish to surpass everyone, throw yourself into it again and again. Enlightenment is hard to attain even then."
"..."
"Keep striving."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Hong Wimun stepped back. His expression was calm, not feigned but genuinely unshaken. This was no different from Yi Cheonsang's usual advice. Though he had been somewhat surprised when the second disciple received praise, it was nothing more. What he needed now was not martial arts but the expansion of his influence.
Yi Cheonsang spoke again. "Fifth disciple."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
A woman stepped forward.
In an instant, the hall seemed to brighten. Her aura was different from the second disciple's coldness—it was as if she was indifferent to everything. Yet, her beauty was so striking that it overshadowed her aloofness. She was both dazzling and approachable, yet untouchable. Her beauty was the kind that could topple nations, and her figure, honed by martial arts, was flawless.
This was Joo Seoyun, the fifth disciple.
Yi Cheonsang quietly observed her. Joo Seoyun, too, stared ahead with an indifferent expression.
A moment of silence.
Then, Yi Cheonsang's words shocked everyone. "You've improved significantly."
The eyes of the sect's leaders flickered. Gwanpyeong's gaze deepened, and Hong Wimun's cheeks twitched. Never before had Yi Cheonsang given such praise to a disciple.
"Your current martial arts have reached a limit in drawing out your talent. After this meeting, follow the Grand Protector. Choose one of the Ten Great Demon Arts to study."
Joo Seoyun bowed. "I am deeply grateful for the Sect Leader's grace."
"You've done well."
She stepped back. Despite receiving unprecedented praise, she showed no emotion, like a lifeless doll.
The air in the hall grew tense. Yi Cheonsang's evaluation of the fifth disciple, surpassing even the second and fourth disciples, carried multiple implications. For some, this evaluation would be a boon; for others, a curse.
But the Demon God cared not for worldly conflicts. He spoke, evaluated, and observed as he pleased, like a god looking down upon mortals.
"When will the sixth disciple return?"
"The Whale Clan will participate in this Poxun Festival, so he will attend with their leader."
"I see."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Yi Cheonsang's gaze fell on a young girl. She was just over ten years old, unbearably cute, but something was clearly wrong. Her once-bright face was now gaunt, her complexion pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Her body was so thin that her clothes hung loosely.
This was Chae Yeomin, the seventh disciple and Yi Cheonsang's youngest.
"Little one."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Her voice, straining to sound strong, evoked pity. Gwanpyeong looked puzzled, Hong Wimun's eyes turned cold, and only Joo Seoyun's expression remained unchanged.
"It seems you've neglected your health."
Seated high above, observing all, Yi Cheonsang feigned ignorance of Chae Yeomin's condition.
"I apologize, Sect Leader."
"Our sect does not indulge in excuses, even for the young. Had you been more diligent, you wouldn't be in this state."
Chae Yeomin clenched her fist hidden in her sleeve. She wanted to cry but held back. Though she didn't fully understand the ways of the world, she knew tears had no place here.
"Strive harder."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Yi Cheonsang extended his cup, and the woman beside him refilled it. Three empty bottles already lay beside the jade table.
"I never taught you to rest. If you truly wish to seize the next era of power, do not be bound by limits."
The air in the hall turned icy. Yi Cheonsang had mentioned the "next era of power" for the first time in an official setting, and the tension it brought was palpable.
Gwanpyeong's gaze sharpened, Hong Wimun clenched his fist unconsciously, Joo Seoyun's expression remained unchanged, and Chae Yeomin struggled to catch her breath.
Yi Cheonsang drained his cup in one go, not savoring it as before. He tossed the cup aside carelessly.
Crash!
The exquisite wine cup shattered into pieces. Everyone froze at the Sect Leader's sudden action.
Yi Cheonsang stood up. He looked toward the hall's entrance.
"Enter."
Simultaneously, a clear voice echoed from outside. "The third disciple, Seo Ryang, answers the Saint's call!"
With a heavy rumble, the doors opened wide. The crimson carpet running through the center of the hall gleamed under the sunlight, its vibrant colors on full display.
And there, a young man appeared. Dressed in a spotless white martial robe and a deep blue silk cloak, he exuded an air of effortless elegance. A red sash at his waist held golden tassels that swayed naturally, and the hem of his cloak fluttered in the wind, giving him an aura of boundless freedom.
The demonic figures in the hall were struck with awe. The young man's appearance was like that of a young prince from the realm of immortals. His stoic face and confident stride radiated nobility, reminiscent of Yi Cheonsang himself.
The sect's leaders, initially awestruck, soon wore expressions of disbelief. They had just realized that this handsome young man was the third disciple, Seo Ryang, who had fallen into demonic cultivation and emerged anew.
A faint red mist rose from beneath his feet, the demonic aura naturally emanating from him, completing his otherworldly presence. The quality of his aura was so overwhelming that it created an intense tension. How much demonic power did he possess for his aura to leak out unintentionally?
Standing over six feet tall, with sharp features and a rich, vibrant aura, he was truly a sight to behold.
Gwanpyeong's mouth hung open. Hong Wimun's eyes were bloodshot. Even Joo Seoyun, who had shown no emotion until now, gazed at him with a flicker in her eyes.
Step, step.
In the silent hall, only the sound of Seo Ryang's footsteps echoed. Though everyone's eyes were fixed on him, he remained unfazed.
Finally, he reached the steps before the throne and looked up at Yi Cheonsang.
Their eyes met in mid-air.
His demeanor was almost disrespectful for someone addressing the Sect Leader. But Yi Cheonsang didn't mind, and Seo Ryang remained composed.
After a moment, Seo Ryang bowed his head. "The third disciple, Seo Ryang, pays his respects to the Sect Leader."
A faint demonic aura rose in Yi Cheonsang's eyes. As he looked down at the young man, an expression of admiration, unseen before, appeared on his face.
"Impressive."
The demonic figures were stunned.
Yi Cheonsang continued. "How was it there? A good place to clear your mind?"
Seo Ryang raised his head. His expression was neither a smile nor a frown, but something entirely strange.
"It was refreshing to the point of disbelief."
Yi Cheonsang nodded.
Seo Ryang, who had been looking up at him, suddenly glanced around. Every demonic figure in the hall was staring at him as if he were some rare artifact. Not a single exception.
Seo Ryang's face twisted like a crumpled brass bowl. Even if he were to dance naked in the market, he wouldn't attract this much attention.
This Sect Leader really knows how to make people uncomfortable.
"...Damn it!"
And so, Seo Ryang had returned.