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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Prologue
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A fierce blizzard and biting cold winds raged across the Heavenly Mountains.
Atop its peak stood a single palace hall emitting a faint light.
Inside, golden tapestries embroidered with dragon horns adorned the pillars, while elegant patterns graced the ceiling, fluttering softly.
Yet in stark contrast to the refined opulence, an elderly man with snow-white hair lay in the bedchamber, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as if death might claim him at any moment.
"Huff... Huff..."
Even the blanket made of Heavenly Silkworm Thread, said to be lighter than feathers, felt like a crushing boulder upon him now.
With thinly opened eyes, he barely parted his cracked lips.
"Is there... anyone there... If so... some water, please..."
His desperate voice echoed into the empty air.
But no sign of another soul stirred within the chamber.
Having stared vainly at the door, he soon gave up and turned his gaze away.
It was entirely expected.
The Heavenly Demon, withered and all but a corpse, had been cast aside while they feverishly debated selecting the next one.
'…But still.'
Even knowing this, the loneliness and bitterness of facing death utterly alone gnawed at him.
Where had it all gone wrong?
'From the very beginning, I suppose.'
He hadn't become the Heavenly Demon through rightful means.
It had been an unavoidable choice.
His clan faced ruin and expulsion from the Seven Great Demonic Families, so it was either accept a political marriage and ascend, or perish.
No other paths were offered, no time for deliberation.
'At first, I held some faint hopes.'
What was the Heavenly Demon, after all?
The supreme leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, a position where one finger could command a million demonic cultivators.
No man born in the demonic realm could have dreamed of it without yearning.
Yet.
'There is nothing.'
A Heavenly Demon in name, but utterly powerless.
No one followed him.
Even during emergency council meetings over grave matters, they emptied the throne and proceeded without him.
All he could do was stamp the seals on their pre-approved documents and rubber-stamp their decisions.
In short.
'A powerless puppet Heavenly Demon—that was my fate.'
He was trapped in utter impotence, unable to touch anything.
But he hadn't given up.
To escape that plight and break free, he racked his brains, ultimately choosing the path of martial arts.
The reasons he received no respect in the cult boiled down to two: his home clan teetering on the brink of ruin and expulsion from the Seven Great Demonic Families, and his failure to demonstrate prowess befitting the Heavenly Demon's prestige.
The clan issue was beyond his control. So he poured his efforts into mastering martial arts as his sole outlet.
'But by the time I found a clue, it was far too late.'
His joints creaked, his body refused to obey, and he had become an aged man thick with white hair.
Now, even lying abed and exhaling took all his strength.
'How futile.'
Right after becoming Cult Leader, opportunities had existed.
A few souls had watched, awaiting change. But he averted his eyes from them, charging ahead like a wild horse with blinders on.
And so, he lost both the people and the time.
"Is this how it ends?"
Regret laced his cracked voice.
His body had frozen cold, not even a finger could twitch.
Death loomed palpably. The next breath might well be his last.
Accepting reality, he closed his eyes, and the montage of his life flashed by.
Having reflected upon a lifetime in moments, he murmured softly in a hollow voice.
"A fleeting life... grasping nothing..."
With that empty lament, color drained from his face, and all movement ceased.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's twentieth Cult Leader, Heavenly Demon Hyeok Mulin.
He entered eternal rest alone in his forsaken residence.
That was the entirety of what would later be recorded about him in the Heavenly Demon Secret Records.