Chapter 76: The Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murder Case: A Night of Murder Without a Culprit

Tianshan Divine City.

The heart of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, a city built by the remnants of the long-destroyed Fire Worship Cult, who had taken root there.

Tianshan Divine City was massive—larger than most mid-sized cities in the Central Plains.

Its inhabitants were a mixed bunch:

• Descendants of the Fire Worship Cult,
• Barbarian tribes from nearby regions,
• Fugitives from the Central Plains who defected to the cult,
• Rogue sects and demonic factions that had been persecuted to the brink of extinction and forced to relocate.

And let’s not forget the kidnapped artisans and their families—people who had no choice but to settle here.

With such a population, vast territory, and numerous military factions under its control, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was practically its own sovereign nation.

But the cult had a glaring issue.

Ever since the Celestial Martial Emperor stole away the sect’s supreme art and hid it away, the cult had been left with a Supreme Leader without a Heavenly Demon.

A Heavenly Demon-less Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

Like a meat bun without the meat.

Sure, it still looked the part on the outside.

They had put a legitimate heir on the Supreme Leader’s throne.

But that was all—just an heir. A figurehead without the Heavenly Demon Art.

As Gyeon Pohee explained all this, Ximen Qing nodded in agreement.

“Oh, so you’re talking about that Alleged Supreme guy, right?”

“Huh? Huh!? NO! No, you can’t say that!”

Gyeon Pohee, flustered, slapped a hand over Qing’s mouth.

That phrase—Alleged Supreme—was practically blasphemy.

If the Enforcers of the Law Enforcement Hall, or hell, even one of the senior sisters, overheard that?

She’d be dead before she could blink.

Qing muttered through the hand covering her mouth.

“Aweged. Suwpreme.”

“Shush! Stop saying it! If you keep saying bad words, you’ll become a bad person!”

Who the hell is she calling a bad person?

Qing scowled but let it slide.

“The Supreme Leader is just… incomplete right now. But once he recovers the Heavenly Divine Arts—”

“And?”

“Then he’ll unblock his own meridians and unseal his dantian! He’s in a self-imposed state of stagnation, you see. But once he enters Inner Demon Possession, he’ll ascend and surpass all limits—a true Heavenly Demon of the future!”

Ah.

So, they were going with the ‘he’s just waiting for the right time to shine’ narrative.

Honestly, it sounded no different from a gambling addict swearing he’d make a comeback after his next big bet.

But whatever.

“Ascend, huh? That’s a fancy word. Do you even know what it means, Senior Sister?”

“Nope! I just heard it in our education sessions!”

Classic brainwashing.

“The day will come when a 100,000 cultists, led by the strongest Heavenly Demon in history, will sweep through the Central Plains, overthrowing the oppressors and spreading the sacred flame of the cult!”

They’re hyping up a Heavenly Demon, but they’re acting like a bunch of desperate marathon runners instead.[^천리마 정신 (Thousand-Li Horse Mentality)" is a Korean phrase referring to relentless, tireless dedication—often used sarcastically to mock blind devotion. The wordplay here contrasts 천마 (Heavenly Demon), the cult’s revered figure, with 천리마 (Thousand-Li Horse), a metaphor for mindless effort. The joke is that instead of following a mighty Heavenly Demon, the cultists are behaving like obedient workhorses chasing an impossible dream]

Qing smirked.

“And what exactly are you gonna do after you light up this ‘sacred flame’?”

“Huh? I don’t know! The higher-ups will figure that out!”

Good for you, I guess.

Speaking of which—Heavenly Demon Art…

Qing pulled up the Martial Arts Window.

Heavenly. Demon. Art. Search.

The window complied.

Ten techniques filled a single page.

Qing flipped to the next.

And another.

In total, thirty-seven techniques across four pages.

And every single one was purple-ranked.

What. The actual. Fuck.

Doesn’t this make all my other purple techniques look worthless?

And why the hell were there so many sword techniques? There were even anti-sword techniques mixed in.

Was this designed for a personal weapons caddy to follow the user around?

Just swap weapons depending on the mood?

Annoyed, Qing shut the window.

Even Ximen Surin had said Absolute Studies of Divine Arts were something most people never mastered in their lifetime.

Qing’s own Martial Arts Window exploit let her gain proficiency at absurd speeds, but even so, purple-rank techniques took twice as long as gold-rank ones to level up.

How the hell was anyone supposed to master thirty-seven of these?

Maybe the Supreme Leader was only supposed to pick and choose?

Qing turned to Gyeon Pohee.

“Senior Sister, which one’s the most famous?”

"What do you mean ‘which one’? There’s only one Heavenly Demon Art! It’s the one and only, reigning supreme across all of existence! Unrivaled in history, never to be surpassed! The guiding star of all martial arts! Peerless through all of time!"

“…Do you actually know what all that means?”

“Of course! It means it’s super amazing!”

She was hopeless.

Qing made a mental note to ask Gramps about it later.

"Anyway. I wanna check out the city."

"Yeah! Have fun!"

Qing narrowed her eyes.

…Wait. Is she trying to ditch me?

What was the point of a Senior Sister if she wasn’t a convenient transport?

Qing issued her final warning.

"You’re carrying me."

"Hah!? Me!? Why!?"

Gyeon Pohee recoiled in horror.

Why is she always so damn loud…?

"As my Senior Sister, isn’t it your job to take care of your injured Junior Sister?"

"What the hell are you talking about!? Since when do Senior Sisters take care of Junior Sisters!?"

"Then what exactly do Senior Sisters do?"

"Uh, well, when they're bored, they gather up the younger ones to yell at them, press their knuckles into their solar plexuses, kick their shins, use them as chairs or tables, make them clean their rooms, do their laundry, bathe them… Oh, and sometimes they take men they've lured in."

"…?"

"Oh! Right! Since you’re new, I should warn you—if a Second-generation Senior Sister calls for you, you’d better be careful."

"And why’s that?"

"Senior Sister Ok? She always calls us in, pinches our chests, then claims we’re ‘faking it’ and whips us. But you shouldn’t endure it, got it? Last time, Senior Sister Ham tried to tough it out, and, well… it got torn right off. So if Senior Sister Ok calls you, act like it hurts immediately. And Senior Sister Dab? She’ll shove raw meat down your throat, and if you throw up, you have to eat it again, so… yeah."

Gyeon Pohee went on, listing out which Second-generation Senior Sisters were the worst.

Every so often, she pulled back a sleeve or tugged down her collar, revealing dozens of scars all over her body.

This? This was bullying in its final evolutionary form.

Of course, the Bliss Palace disciples had their own hierarchy of suffering.

Every generation got crushed by their seniors, and when they finally joined a faction, they were expected to do the same to their juniors—if they didn’t, they’d be overthrown or eliminated.

Strength rules. The weak get devoured.

And among all of them, Gyeon Pohee had it the worst—she was too weak, too timid, too soft, the perfect punching bag for everyone’s frustrations.

She had no unscarred skin, aside from her face, neck, hands, and feet.

Qing was thoroughly disgusted.

This is what being a Junior Sister means? Are you kidding me?

She exhaled sharply.

"So, were you planning on trying that shit on me too?"

A subtle shift in her qi.

The moment Qing willed it, Purple Lightning surged up from her dantian, coiling through her meridians, ready to strike.

"Well, I was, but…" Gyeon Pohee hesitated. "You're already crippled—ah, I mean, injured. That’d just be pitiful."

Qing let her qi recede.

Her Purple Lightning reluctantly slithered back, almost as if it wasn’t ready to leave.

What kind of life has this girl even lived?

"Either way, if you stay here, you’re just going to get beaten again. So why not come with me?"

"But if I disappear now, tomorrow…"

Oh. So that’s why she disappears every morning after breakfast.

She wasn’t avoiding Qing—she was getting dragged off for 'discipline' all day.

Wait. That raised a new question.

Shouldn’t I be getting summoned too?

Wasn’t Qing the newest disciple? Why hadn’t they called for her?

She turned to Gyeon Pohee. "Why haven’t they summoned me?"

Gyeon Pohee let out an awkward chuckle.

"They… actually did."

Qing narrowed her eyes.

"They told me to bring you in, but you’re still new and, well, not used to things yet, so… and your leg, too…"

Qing blinked.

This dumbass just straight-up ignored the summons and got away with it?

"Ha. You’re fucking hopeless."

"Huh!? What!? Me!?"

Qing sighed, exasperated.

"Unbelievable. You let them push you around this much?"

"I—I didn’t—what did I even do!?"

Gyeon Pohee’s eyes welled up with tears.

Qing pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled.

"That Senior Sister Ok. Did she call for me too?"

"Uh… yeah…"

Gyeon Pohee averted her eyes.

Qing grinned.

That wasn’t a request—it was an order.

"Good. Then carry me to her."

Ok Hwawha was a Second-generation Fifth Disciple.

She had caught the attention of First-generation Disciple Yeom Heeji and became part of her faction, acting as its disciplinary officer.

She had just finished dinner and was bored, so she figured she’d summon someone for a bit of “education.”

Right on cue, someone knocked on her door.

“—Senior Sister Ok! It’s me! Gyeon Pohee, from the Third-generation!”

Ok Hwawha frowned.

Ugh. Gyeon Pohee? That idiot’s no fun.

Weak, no backbone, and all she ever did was cry.

Even earlier in the morning, Ok Hwawha had asked to see the new junior, but Gyeon Pohee had defied her orders.

She had let it slide at the time, but it had been so disappointing.

Still, there was something odd about this.

Didn’t Gyeon Pohee just get promoted today?

Hadn’t she kicked down the previous Seventh Disciple and taken their place?

Ok Hwawha hesitated for a moment.

Maybe she’s finally gotten some spine? Should I bring her into my faction?

Then she heard Gyeon Pohee’s voice again.

“—Just like you asked, I brought Junior Sister Xi!”

Ok Hwawha tilted her head.

“Junior Sister Xi? That meant Xi Munqing.

Which meant… she was Ximen, not just Munqing?”

Munqing wasn’t an uncommon name. But no Ximen family would ever name their daughter that—it would cause confusion with the Ximen Clan.

Still, it wasn’t impossible. Whatever.

“Come in.”

“—Yes! Gyeon Pohee, from the Third-generation, entering!”

Let’s see what this newbie looks like.

Ok Hwawha smiled wickedly.

Unfortunately, it would take her a moment to process what happened next.

The door swung open—

And then, sharp pain lanced through both her shins.

“Ahk—!?”

Ok Hwawha let out an undignified yelp and looked down.

Two sharp hairpins were embedded deep in her shins.

Wait. What the hell?

Her brain struggled to catch up.

And then, agony.

She inhaled sharply, about to let out a scream—

—only to get kicked in the stomach.

Hard.

The force sent her rolling off her bed, vomiting up her entire dinner in one go.

A calm voice followed.

“Senior Sister, shut the door.”

“Ah! Okay!”

Click.

The door locked.

The night air in Tianshan Divine City was cool and refreshing.

Being at such high altitude, even in early summer, the evening breeze was crisp.

Qing was nestled comfortably in her human transport, her expression clear and carefree.

“Hm~ Hm~”

Her Crutch No. 2, Gyeon Pohee, seemed just as happy.

Her skin looked healthier, practically glowing, and she hummed to herself as she walked.

The old Third-generation Junior Disciple Gyeon Pohee—the weak, insignificant pushover—was gone.

In her place stood a Second-generation Fifth Disciple, one who had just stepped into the realm of true martial artists.

The world was already shifting.