Chapter 594: Chapter 594

One of the Ming Cult members watching from the observation seats above the underground chamber, a woman draped in a dark crimson fur cloak like a robe, held a letter in her hand.

It had arrived with a crackling sound, accompanied by black flames that vanished as quickly as they came—leaving behind a crumpled piece of paper.

An old man sitting in a lower seat slightly lifted his head. He was of the Iron Clan—short and deeply wrinkled. He opened his mouth slowly.

“May I ask the Three Spirit Emissary... has any chamber yielded results yet?”

The reply came in a voice that was both male and female at once.

It was the result of cultivating Mixed Demon Split Mind Technique, one of the Ming Cult’s advanced arts under the Celestial Demon Lineage. The dual voice split along the throat—fiery demonic energy from one side, icy from the other.

“However, this one is progressing slowly. It's the most brutal among all the chambers where the ceremony is taking place.”

“Of course. If it includes the Demon of Seokwon Pool, the Dream Phantom, the rogue martial forces that escaped from Yeom Jeong's command, and the expelled disciples from the Ice Palace, as well as the unnamed disciples from Mu Gok’s division of the Six Star Lords, then seven more days and nights may still not be enough.”

“My apologies. Our clan prides itself on holding the line against opponents such as these.”

“You're wrong from the start. You don’t know who’s in the other chambers, so you speak in ignorance.”

“Does the letter contain such information...?”

“The Sword of the Night Sky. The fallen World’s Fastest. The shortest of the three disciples of the Sword Emperor of Gunreung. He has entered our cult. Remember that.”

The old man's eyes widened at the words, breaking the meditative clarity required for mastering demonic arts.

Even the composed Ming Cult members around them were shaken—those names carried weight. The wrinkles beneath the old man’s eyes were drawn tight with disbelief.

“How could they...?! Even if they are truly undergoing the ceremony, they aren’t the type to join the cult. This is infiltration—clear infiltration!”

“You speak correctly. But the Cult Leader must have seen further than we can. Do not act rashly. Instead, prepare to clean and consolidate the other chambers. Clean them thoroughly.”

“I will do as instructed.”

The old man turned his gaze downward toward the chamber.

Around the two of them was a translucent veil of energy that ensured their conversation wouldn’t escape. Even if it did leak, nothing useful had been said aloud.

That was the way of the Northern Ming Cult.

The woman continued to monitor the chamber without emotion.

The old Iron Clan elder, again unreadable, returned to silence.

And the countless Ming Cult members sitting around the rim of the underground cavern calmly observed what was unfolding below. Time continued to flow downward.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself.

‘Is this really the northern fringe of the Demon Realm?’

Many people here were tall with bright eyes, much like the Myung tribe. They said this land was close to the birthplace of Bukgung Ah, Lord of Yeouicheon.

“It seems the territory that once belonged to North Sea Ice Palace was handed over to the Ming Cult. Somehow, they brought in an entire congregation and crossed over en masse.”

The murmuring of the man beside him pulled Jeong Yeon-shin’s awareness back to the present.

Now that the Master of the Divine Sword Corps had grasped the nature of So Cheonmujuk’s Transforming Void, the man’s sidelong glances and eerie tone lightly tickled his nerves.

“Well, it works out for people like us. Thanks to this, we can learn martial arts of the Celestial Demon Lineage and even wish upon the Greatest of the West, no?”

“They said whoever stands out the most in this kill-or-be-killed chaos will be granted the position of Guardian. And, like I said, the Cult Leader herself will grant a wish.”

“There are many here who don’t look like Ming Cult members. How did hundreds of martial artists gather ?”

Jeong Yeon-shin swept the area with his senses as he asked.

They were inside a massive underground cavern. Deep and cold like an abyss. The space was vast, illuminated only by thousands of hanging lanterns.

The scale was indescribable. It could hold thousands with ease, a circular void as if a giant serpent had coiled itself here and vanished.

“Did you stumble in here drunk after a big night out? This is the Initiation Ceremony of the Ming Cult. Also known as the Grand Flame Rite. It’s a formal ritual they hold when accepting outsiders. Only those who survive until the observers call an end are accepted into the cult. They tell some story about the First Celestial Demon or whatever... I wasn’t listening closely.”

“An initiation ceremony?”

“Apparently it used to be even more chaotic. Now they enforce rules to make it more appealing to martial artists in the Demon Realm. So we fight barehanded like gods of battle—for seven days, or even a month. It’s just endless combat.”

Jeong Yeon-shin understood the situation now. He grasped why his purple long robe and sash had been replaced with coarse rags and a simple belt.

He didn’t waste time wondering why So Cheonmujuk had thrown him into this place. He didn’t care to understand her intentions. It simply added another reason to sever her head.

What he was truly worried about were the Sword Saint and the Divine Sword Corps. Were they all right? Were they shocked?

“Oh—looks like they’re headed this way. Figured we were weak and left us alone at first, but now they’re coming.”

The man warned him, his voice grim.

As he said, some martial artists tangled in the central brawl were now turning toward their section of the cavern.

A dozen or so approached, eyes glowing red, some with colorless pupils glinting in the dark. Most were Yozoku, with a few Han mixed in.

Their steps echoed like seismic tremors. With each stride, blood footprints splashed and rippled across the stone floor.

The man’s voice trembled.

“Guess they’re getting hungry. This is bad. The one in front... that’s Seokwon Pool Demon. Doesn’t look like much, but for a Yozoku, he’s terrifying. A monster born by the lake near one of Seokwon’s major cities. If not for me, he’d be the one wishing upon the Greatest of the West.”

At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly opened his mouth.

“Do they eat people?”

“You don’t? If you want to survive in the Demon Realm as a strongman, meat is essential. With famine this bad, how’d you build that body? You didn’t live off monk pills like peasants, did you?”

The man asked, genuinely puzzled.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t answer. Instead, he asked a second question.

“You mentioned observers. Who’s watching and evaluating this whole mess?”

“Well, the ones looking down at us from up above. The dignified mid-tier Ming Cult officers. They report to their commanders, who then report to the Grand Elder and the Cult Leader. That’s how it goes. I don’t know the full hierarchy.”

He pointed upward, to the edge of the chamber.

“All those spectators are the observers. The Thirteen Heavens of the Ming Cult.”

Jeong Yeon-shin followed his finger and saw them.

Around forty figures sat like judges, watching the chaos unfold.

Men and women with emotionless faces.

Their expressions were blank as masks, but their vibe was closer to merchants. As if they were rating cuts of meat for delivery to noble families in Beijing.

The man clucked his tongue.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Monsters, all of them. I’ve watched for three full days and nights, and not one of them has shifted position. They say all Ming Cult members are inhuman, and now I believe it.”

Even as he spoke, the strongest participants in the ceremony were drawing closer—from the relatively ordinary-looking Seokwon Pool Demon to hulking Yozoku warriors whose outer power had been forged to its utmost limit.

“The Han is standing up. Looks strong.”

“Then he's mine. This body’s Great Circulatory Flow can withstand rot.”

Behind them, chaos still reigned.

Every one of them had blood or flesh clinging to their lips. In the midst of vicious combat, they were all devouring their respective opponents.

No one screamed anymore. Only other sounds stood out vividly.

Shockwaves erupted from the walls, flinging limbs into the air. Blunt collisions echoed like thunder throughout the cavern.

Jeong Yeon-shin had never seen anything .

There was no reason. No sense of human morality. They had already become demons. Even their inner imagery, their cultivated states of mind, reflected this.

And yet, at the same time, a quiet thought crossed Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind: if this land had been fertile, what would these people have become? If time could be reversed...

He asked for the third time.

“You’ve been fighting near me for several days. Was there not a single martial artist who didn’t devour their opponent?”

“Looks like you came up from the bountiful South. If I had to answer... no, there wasn’t. That's why we made it this far.”

The man laughed smoothly.

“Those friends of mine ate people against the will of the God of Combat. We fled from the Windshade Reapers and ended up here. Even the proud Northern Kings don’t touch the domain of the Greatest of the West. That’s also why my wish is to marry the Cult Leader.”

“But are you all right? You must be feeling drowsy by now. I’ve said quite a lot.”

“You’re from the Dream-Essence Race.”

“That’s right. Not too rare /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ here in the Demon Realm. Everything I said was just an upper-dantian strike.”

There was no lie in his voice.

And with that, the man glided away like a ghost, ten steps distant, wearing a faint smile.

“Let’s begin. With those friends, even your senses will start to show cracks.”

“Can they coordinate attacks?”

Jeong Yeon-shin muttered low, thinking. None of them seemed to have reason left.

But the man seemed to think even that was an opportunity. He answered without hesitation.

“Of course. A southern-born Han like you must’ve only eaten the best, no? You look like a nobleman’s son, raised in silk, with refined inner strength.”

“Who wouldn’t want a bite? And now that you’ve opened your eyes, you’re nothing but meat with legs.”

Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.

“That’s disgusting. Don’t speak again.”

“Regrettable, but pointless words. I won’t need to speak anymore.”

The man’s smile deepened.

It reminded Jeong Yeon-shin of the twisted smile of Chi Geuk the Demon King. He could feel the tingling taps to his upper dantian.

“Your internal damage must be severe, no? Judging by the mangled palm lines, you must be a Sword Fiend. But without a weapon, what can you do? Struggle if you want. My friends will keep you company for days.”

The next moment, Jeong Yeon-shin’s vision was filled by a Yozoku warrior.

The man had been called the Seokwon Pool Demon earlier. His reckless, headlong footwork left no retreat. His twin fists distorted the air of the dark cavern with every motion. He was fast.

In the instant before impact—

Jeong Yeon-shin caught a strange sight over the Pool Demon’s shoulder. Around three hundred Demon Realm fighters had all turned their eyes toward him at once.

Like a pack of wolves afraid their prey might vanish. Jeong Yeon-shin had never seen anything like it. These were monsters who had survived by feeding on anything—creatures with tenacious lifelines.

He thought: I’m not in the condition for a long fight.

He stopped the Pool Demon’s charge with a palm to the chest. A dull shockwave struck, and dust crashed to the ground like a wave.

“I don’t have a weapon?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly.

The confusion in the Pool Demon’s bared eyes lasted only a moment. Then, Jeong Yeon-shin, merging the essence of internal force control, drove his fingers inside the man’s body and tore free a rib.

A burst of blood drenched him completely.

His gaze, now dull and gray, was the same as when he’d learned of Yun So-hyeon’s death. The Commander of the Divine Sword Corps was still on Cheonggwang Plain.

Time seemed to freeze as a black-red bone was held in his hand like a sword.

The attackers halted in their tracks.

The murderous aura, greater than theirs, had fused with the divine energy in his body and now flowed through that rib.

It took Jeong Yeon-shin only an instant to gauge the bone’s structure through the feel of it in his palm.

Then he activated it.

The ultimate focused intent exploded, engulfing the cavern like a tidal wave.

It came with a furious tremor.

The song of bone transformed into a semi-transparent field of force, tearing forward to the walls and even the upper observation deck. It moved too fast for anyone to retaliate.

The air twisted like a typhoon collapsing inward.

And the only one left standing... was Jeong Yeon-shin.