In the highest tower, Baek Sungho stood before an open window, letting the mountain wind ruffle his robes. His soft gaze swept over the bustling grounds. Behind him, Elder Hwan—an old man whose body bore a thousand scars—waited respectfully.
"You summoned me, Cult Leader?"
Sungho turned, a bright, boyish smile on his lips. "Elder Hwan, how are the new outer disciples faring?"
Hwan hesitated. "They... are as expected. Rough. Undisciplined. But full of potential."
Sungho clapped his hands, delighted. "Good! Good! We must nurture them well. Assign Senior Disciple Myung to oversee their training. His patience will mold them better than fear."
The elder blinked. This was not the usual method of the Demonic Cult. Fear, pain, and cruelty had always been their tools. Yet under Sungho’s rule, compassion was the blade that sharpened steel.
Still, even kindness could not bleach the blood from their hands.
Outside the pavilion, missions were posted on scarlet boards:
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- "Slaughter the Heaven-Splitting Sect’s convoy."
- "Seize the tribute of the Southern Kingdom."
- "Destroy the Bai Clan stronghold."
The tasks were ruthless. Necessary.
The world knew them as demons, and Sungho knew better than to deny it. Yet within the cult’s walls, laughter and camaraderie thrived.
Later that evening, beneath the blood-red banners waving under the sunset, the Inner Disciples gathered in the courtyard. Training would soon begin.
Sungho descended from his tower, stepping lightly, robes whispering along the stone. Instantly, a hush fell over the disciples. They bowed deeply.
"Stand tall," he said warmly. "Tonight, we train not to break others—but to master ourselves."
A spark lit in their eyes.
He drew a slim blade from his side—a simple weapon, devoid of ornament.
"Show me your spirit," he said.
The courtyard roared to life as dozens of disciples rushed forward to spar. In graceful motions, Sungho parried, disarmed, and toppled them one after another without drawing a drop of blood. His mastery at the True Warrior rank was evident to all.
As the stars glimmered above, Elder Hwan watched from the sidelines, murmuring under his breath:
"Perhaps... he will not just be the strongest Demon King... but the kindest."
And beyond the mountains, forces stirred—sects sharpening their swords, kings counting their soldiers. The world could not ignore the rise of a Demonic Cult Leader who smiled even as he marched toward war.