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Muyeon passed through the gates of the Demon Academy and stepped onto the crowded training ground within, the air thick with the chatter of thousands of candidates. Boys and girls, aged 14 to 19, swarmed from the six clans, three guardian families, and lesser groups, their eyes alight with ambition.
The Demon Academy opened once a decade, a proving ground for the younger generation of the Cult—and with Muyeon and his siblings here, it was dubbed an Heirship competition. Whoever managed to survive and shine brightest would no doubt become the next Demon Lord.
Hancock walked beside him, her steps hesitant, a white tag with the number 4752 swinging from her belt. Curious stares followed her, a stunningly beautiful outsider among the cult's ruthless hopefuls, her grace clashing with the predatory atmosphere.
Muyeon's black tag, marked with a red number 1, gleamed on his chest, proclaiming him the Dark Clan's heir. His calm presence cut through the crowd, candidates parting instinctively before him.
{Hostile intent detected.}
'Yeah, I can feel it too.' He sighed, feeling numerous piercing glares directed at him, no doubt from the members of the other five clans who were participating this year. 'I'll have to watch my back from now on…'
He guided Hancock forward, his steady gaze easing her tension. "Stay close," he murmured, voice low but firm. She nodded, drawing strength from his confidence, though the cult's brutality felt different from Amazon Lily, much darker.
Muyeon's mind churned—rival clans, deadly tests, and the Demon Lord himself awaited. This was his arena, and he'd claim its rewards.
Hancock's fingers clenched into a fist, her determination solidifying despite her unease. She was here to gain the strength needed to kill Jalmack and exact her revenge. And she wouldn't waste this opportunity.
As Muyeon guided Hancock forward, he sensed eyes on him. Glancing back, he spotted Yeo-Woon, his future minions, passing through the gate. But in an instant, a rushing crowd flooded in, obscuring their view of each other.
…
..
.
The Great Training Ground buzzed with thousands of candidates, their excitement and fear crackling in the air. Muyeon stood at the front, his black tag gleaming, while Hancock lingered behind him.
All eyes turned to the stage, awaiting the Demon Lord's arrival.
Left Guardian Lee Hameng strode out before anyone else, his red hair like a flame.
[Insert picture of Left Guardian here]
Hameng eyed the figures positioned boldly before the other children. Each student entering the academy received a round name tag with a number, assigned by entry order—except for these heirs, who were exceptions.
While the other students stood in orderly rows, these six heirs stood brazenly at the forefront, asserting their dominance. Unlike the others with white tags bearing black numbers, the heirs wore black tags with red numbers, marking their rank in the succession.
'Remarkable for mere children,' Hameng thought, his eyes lingering on Muyeons form. 'Especially him… Was the Dark Clan heir always this powerful?'
[A/N: I separated each name so you guys can add pictures below.]
#1: Dark Clan – Cheon Muyeon
#2: Sword Clan – Cheon Kungwun
#3: Spring Clan – Cheon Mukeum
#4: Poison Clan – Cheon Jongsum
#5: Blade Clan – Cheon Yuchan
#6: Sound Clan – Cheon Wonryou
Only numbers adorned their tags, but Hameng knew their names. He recalled two female candidates in the previous group ten years ago; this time, however, only one girl from the Sound Clan stood among them.
'Everyone else is here, but where is he?' Hameng scanned the crowd until his eyes settled on the last, clanless heir, standing alone at the back of the prospective students. 'There he is.'
#7: No Clan — Cheon Yeo-Woon
Suddenly, a horn blared, breaking the Left Guardian from his thoughts. Instantly, the crowd stilled and silenced as the Demon Lord appeared, his black silk robe marked with "Sky."
[Insert picture of Demon Lord Cheon Yu-Jong here]
Flanked by the masked Great Guardian Marakim and the drunken, ragged Right Guardian Seob meng, his presence crushed the air. Everyone bowed, overwhelmed by his aura.
[Insert picture of Great Guardian here]
[Insert picture of Right Guardian here]
"I-I can't even look at him directly." Someone shakily muttered, their eyes glued to the floor like everyone else.
Hancock's breath caught, the Lord's power was suffocating, like standing before a Navy Admiral or maybe even a Yonko. She clutched Muyeon's arm, heart pounding.
(A/N: He ain't as strong as a Yonko)
Muyeon, unfazed, met his father's gaze, finding only cold indifference. 'I guess he doesn't care about me at all…' he shrugged, uncaring. After all, he expected this. 'This just makes it easier to kill him later, I guess…'
Yeo-Woon, at the back, felt the Lord's eyes sweep over him as well, their chill softening considerably compared to Muyeon's experience.
Finally, the Demon Lord spoke, his voice soft yet deep, piercing every ear. "You are the cult's future. Train, and prove your worth."
The brief words sparked roars from the crowd.
"For the Demonic Cult!"
"For the Demonic Cult!"
"For the Demonic Cult!"
"For the Demonic Cult!"
Hancock marveled, unaccustomed to such fanaticism. Even Muyeon was struck by how effortlessly his father's few words ignited the crowd.
'I guess this is why it's called a cult, huh?'
Hameng stepped forward, his voice sharp. "The academy will last four years and six stages," he declared. "Fail a test, and you're expelled—no second chances."
Candidates paled, the stakes sinking in. Only a single chance to rise awaited them.
Suddenly, a striking boy in the front row raised his hand.
'Oh, here it comes.' Muyeon smirked, ready to enjoy the show.
"I have a question."
It was the boy with the number 2 tag—Cheon Kungwun of the Sword Clan, second in line for the throne behind Muyeon.
Hameng was mid-speech, but Kungwun boldly interrupted. Yet—
"Who gave you permission to speak?" Hameng snapped.
"What?" Kungwun's handsome face twisted in disbelief. Accustomed to reverence as an Heir and Young Master of the Sword Clan, this sharp hostility stunned him.
"Oh? Got a problem with my tone? Want to be expelled before the competition even begins?" Left Guardian's voice dripped with scorn.
Fury surged in Kungwun, but words failed him. His guard's warning echoed in his mind. 'Once you enter the academy, your privileges as the Lord's son vanish. Never cross the Chief of the Academy.'
He'd brushed it off then, but now, facing one of the Demonic Cult's mightiest, the truth hit hard.
"I apologize, sir," Kungwun muttered through clenched teeth, forcing himself to bow.
The other heirs shared cunning smirks, fueling Kungwun's rage and humiliation. One, however, took it further.
Muyeon's face fought a smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. A soft *scoff* escaped, quickly muffled, as his shoulders gave a faint quiver.
Kungwun's glare snapped at him, teeth clenched, but Hameng's icy stare held him in check, leaving him powerless to retaliate.
With that resolved, Hameng continued. "The first privilege you'll receive in this Academy is medicine: the Black Dragon Ball pill, awarded for each challenge you conquer."
Forged by the Demonic Cult's finest Alchemists, this ball-like pill grants twenty years of internal energy per dose.
Passing all six tests would yield a staggering one hundred and twenty years of energy. Though its effects diminished with repeated use, it remained a remarkable reward.
'Does the Cult have Alchemists or something?' Muyeon wondered, as he didn't remember it being mentioned in the Manhwa. 'But how else would they make the pills in the first place?'
'I should look into it when I have the time.' He thought. 'Who knows? Maybe I can become an Alchemist?'
"The second privilege is access to martial arts secret manuals. As martial artists, you should understand their value."
This was among the academy's most coveted rewards. The academy housed an extensive collection of texts, including the martial arts manuals of the six major clans, safeguarded within its walls.
This was exactly what Muyeon craved. The Nano Machine had enabled him to master anything with ease, but he needed more techniques to forge even greater ones.
As Nano refined every technique that he knew into the Dark Phantom Style and Abyssal Inhalation Art, he can continue to evolve them toward perfection by incorporating new knowledge and skills from the library.
'And all those books aren't even the best part about the library…'
"The library has five floors," Hameng continued. "The higher the floor, the more powerful the manuals. Each stage you advance grants access to a higher floor."
The fifth floor, the final one, held the most coveted secret martial arts manuals.
"Don't get your hopes up—you'll never reach the fifth floor," Hameng said, his tone dismissive.
Yet the second privilege remained extraordinary. It leveled the playing field, offering every student, regardless of background, an equal shot at immense power. The stronger they proved themselves, the greater their potential to grow.
Muyeon's mind raced, calculating his path to the library's secrets. He stood taller, ambition burning.
Hancock stood at his side, the cult's system alien but clear: power was earned, not given. Her Kuja pride surged—she'd master this world for the chance to get her revenge and one day return home to Amazon Lily.
Meanwhile, Yeo-Woon listened, feeling the weight of it all, knowing expulsion meant death for a clan-less heir like him. Muyeon's anonymous gifts—priceless herbs and techniques—gave him a chance, but the heirs' glares promised trouble.
As the stage emptied, the Demon Lord taking his leave, Hameng addressed the students with a sly grin. "Pass the first stage, and you're a low-ranked warrior. Second stage, mid-ranked. Third, high-ranked. I trust none of you from military clans will linger at the second or third ranks like failures."
He paused, smirking. "But even those aiming for mid or high-ranked status will receive pills, so no need to fret."
As Hameng explained, the academy granted privileges even to low-ranked warriors, offering a valuable chance for aspiring warriors to grow stronger. The power gap between ranks was stark—high-ranked warriors were the mightiest, yet rarest.
"Clear the fourth stage, and you'll earn the title of Squad Leader. Pass the fifth, and you'll be named Clan Leader. As for the sixth stage? Let's not bother—it's irrelevant to most of you."
Hameng had his reasons for dismissing the sixth stage. It was nearly impossible, with fewer than ten ever passing in the history of the Academy. He simply didn't expect anyone here to achieve it.
"Though you all begin as cadets, your ranks will diverge as you progress, and you'll obey your superiors." He said, his stern gaze turning to the heirs at the front of the stage. "No matter what your status is outside this Academy."
The crowd buzzed with anticipation at the prospect of outranking even the Demon Cult's Heirs, though they knew it would be a formidable challenge.
"Don't get too excited," Hameng warned, his smile sharp. "Most of you won't make it past the third stage."
With that, he concluded, "That's all."
Muyeon glanced at Hancock, her resolve a quiet fire. Yeo-Woon's solitary figure lingered in his periphery, a wildcard in his plans. 'Let's see if they can pass the entrance exam…'
After a brief pause, Lee Hameng's voice boomed across the Great Training Ground, silencing the restless crowd. "The first test starts now!" he declared, shocking candidates who expected training before facing a test that could end in their expulsion.
Murmurs rippled through the thousands, fear replacing anticipation. Hameng smirked, gesturing to a woman in red silk, a string instrument gleaming in her arms. "Fifth Elder Hang Soyu, Sound Clan Matriarch, will test your basic internal energy."
[Insert picture of Hang Soyu here]
The first test required enduring an energy wave attack, a straightforward method to swiftly eliminate unfit students.
"With even a trace of internal energy, they should withstand it for a minute," Hang Soyu declared, her voice as captivating as her clan's reputation.
"Those who endure the energy wave for a minute will pass! Begin!"
At Hameng's signal, the fifth elder stepped forward and began playing her instrument.
The instrument's enchanting melody filled the training ground, but its beauty masked a fierce power. Before even a full measure was played, dozens of boys and girls collapsed, frothing at the mouth.
"Nngh…"
"I-I can still hear it!"
Each pluck of the strings sent sound waves that battered their eardrums and jolted their hearts, causing some students to clutch their chests and fall.
{Wave intensity: Baseline, escalating.}
Muyeon stood at the front, his siblings' beside him. Confidence radiated from him, his Ki a steady pulse, unshaken by the test.
On the other hand, Hancock braced herself. "!"
With minimal Ki, as she just started cultivating thanks to Muyeons help, Hancock relied mainly on her own body's resilience, her jaw set against the unknown pain. Sweat beaded on her brow, but she refused to falter.
Yeo-Woon, at the back, stood tall, enduring as best as he could. Muyeon's anonymous gifts had pushed his Ki to a surprising level…
{Yeo-Woon Ki level: Peak beginner realm}
{Growth rate: Anomalous}
Muyeon's eyes widened briefly—such progress in just a few days marked Yeo-Woon as a prodigy, even without Nano's aid. 'I don't know whether I should celebrate or not…'
While a powerful subordinate was valuable, he hadn't anticipated his half-brother's rapid progress, which left him feeling slightly threatened.
He wasn't the only one who noticed Yeo-Woon's progress either.
The heirs, expecting Yeo-Woon's failure due to his oath to abstain from Ki training, scowled, their shock fueling venomous glares.
Cheon Mukeum's fists clenched, rage evident. 'Did he break his oath?!'
Once again, Hang Soyu plucked her instrument, and a haunting melody surged, its energy wave slamming into the candidates. Dozens collapsed, clutching ears, blood trickling from mouths. The ground trembled with their groans.
"Nnnnghhh..."
"Ugh, your ear's bleeding!"
"You too!"
Soon enough, Muyeon's relative ease drew Hang Soyu's gaze, her lips tightening with frustration, mirroring her reaction to Yeo-Woon in the original story. She played faster, the melody turning vicious.
The intensified wave buckled knees, even among the heirs. Cheon Jongsum coughed, blood speckling his lips, while Mukeum's face twisted in pain.
Nonetheless, Muyeon remained a statue, his dominance clear.
Nonetheless, slowly but surely, the crowd thinned, only the strongest enduring. Candidates crumpled across the Great Training Ground, Hang Soyu's Musical Energy Wave felling the weak like wheat.
…
..
.
After a full minute passed, over three-quarters of the candidates had collapsed, leaving only the elite who narrowly passed the test.
Moments later, Yeo-Woon wavered, his Ki depleted, and he crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from his ears.
Soon after him, Hancock's legs shook, her vision blurred, and she too fell.
Though the test was technically over, the fifth elder, provoked by Muyeon's composed demeanor, kept playing, gradually intensifying the sound attack's power with each passing second.
…
..
.
As the seconds ticked away, Muyeon stood alone, the last man standing among a sea of collapsed candidates, astonishing all onlookers. Even his fellow heirs collapsed.
Still, Hang Soyu's expression contorted, her pride wounded. She refused to stop, determined to see Muyeon fall like the others.
Her fingers blurred, pushing her instrument to its limit, the melody a shrieking tempest that risked killing candidates.
'She's getting serious…' Muyeon winced.
Without Nano's aid, he endured up until this point. But it seems he wouldn't be able to continue on his own anymore.
{Energy wave intensity: Critical}
'I guess that's as far as I can go alone.'
{Recommend activating defense mode immediately}
'Do it, block the sound waves,' Muyeon commanded silently.
{Sound waves neutralization: 100%. Host vitals: Stable.}
Shockingly, despite the fifth elder's rise in attack power, Muyeon seemed to be even more relaxed than he was before.
'I-Is he even human?!' The fifth elder and countless others thought at the same time.
Hameng's eyes widened, Seob meng's flask paused mid-sip, the training ground hushed except for the groans and cries of pain from downed candidates.
Muyeon's nonchalance was like a blade, cutting through the chaos. He alone stood, a solitary pillar.
Hameng, sensing the danger to the other candidates, raised a hand, his voice sharp. "Enough!" he barked, signaling Soyu to stop before her wave killed anyone. She halted, gasping, her instrument's strings snapping, exhaustion etching her face.
Muyeon, untouched, tilted his head, adopting a faux confused expression. "Was that it?" he called loudly, voice carrying. "Do I pass?"
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