Two days after the attack, most of the

  city gathered around the palace. Only the upper echelon were allowed

  inside the palace walls but an ocean of people surrounded it on all

  sides.

  A somber mood weighed heavy on Mujin. Even with the vast number of people gathered, there was an eerie silence.

  Baz stood in the air above the outer court grounds, his

  hands clasped behind his back, and his black robes with red and white

  embroidery swayed gently in the wind.

  On the ground beneath him lay rows of those who died in the attack, covered by blankets of cloth.

  The families of the deceased stood at the forefront of

  the court grounds. Some of them sobbed, and others held back their tears. Others

  still had their sadness overshadowed by anger, not anger toward the

  cult for whom their loved ones gave their lives, but toward the cult’s

  enemies who destroyed their comfortable lives.

  “Today, we honor those who gave their lives to protect

  Mujin and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult,” Baz said. He spoke softly,

  and yet his essence projected his voice throughout the entire city. He

  spoke the names of all 47 who died. It was a small thing, but he knew

  that simply hearing the names of their loved ones from the man

  worshipped as a living god would bring them some peace. “...and finally,

  Marion Macias, our Vice Leader and the woman who over the past twelve years built this city into

  what it is today.” He paused and held a moment of silence along with the

  millions of people who called Mujin home.

  When the moment of silence was done, he turned his eyes

  to Víctor and nodded. With that signal, a dozen mages set the rows of

  the dead ablaze. They burned bright, and their flames soared high enough

  that even the people beyond the palace walls could see them. A short

  moment later, the flames vanished and there wasn’t a single trace left

  of those that were taken from the cult too soon.

  He continued his speech, shifting the mood from sour to

  vengeful. “Many of you have experienced attacks like this before. In

  these lands, it has never been uncommon for gangs and criminals to

  attack villages and towns. But we are no village and this heinous attack

  was not done by some mere gang. They were assassins sent by the Great

  Martial Alliance. They fear our potential. They fear what they know we will

  become!” He took a moment, let the people feel the weight of the

  grudge. “Our enemies are ancient, they have spent thousands of years

  developing and growing. We, on the other, are young. Even so, we

  defeated the assassins of these ancient and powerful sects and clans.

  Their leader was slain by my own hands, he was an old Master whose level

  was firmly over 70. He brought with him five others, four First-rate

  Practitioners and one Expert Practitioner who had endured the might of a

  Major Accomplishment tribulation, and yet they were unable to survive the

  fury of our officers!”

  To the people of Mujin, most of whom had lived their

  entire lives in the isolated bubble of the Red Sea, people over level 20

  were considered monsters. To hear that their protectors had defeated

  enemies at levels that could only be seen as legendary was, to say the

  least, shocking.

  Their devotion soared.

  In spite of the losses, for the first time in their lives they dared to dream that the future might be truly spectacular.

  Baz raised his hand to silence the millions of people who

  obeyed his simple gesture without question. “In light of these events, a

  restructure will take place. Mujin will no longer be just a city under

  our control—from this day forward, it is the capital of the Heavenly

  Demon Divine Cult’s domain! We will establish new cities and expand our

  influence throughout the Red Sea. At the center of our territories

  stands Mansan, the home of the cult’s demonic cultivators!”

  Roars and cheers erupted that soon turned to chants.

  “LONG LIVE THE HEAVENLY DEMON! ALL DEMONS MUST SUBMIT!”

  ***

  The next day, Baz and the senior officers of the cult met in the palace meeting room.

  “With Vice Leader Macias gone, we are in desperate need

  of new leadership for the city,” Baz said to open the meeting. He kept

  his tone, and his choice of words, professional. If he spoke freely, the

  meeting would not be very productive. “Most of my own time will still be

  spent on Mansan as that is the foundation and future of the cult. With

  this expansion, we have need for more roles than before.” The leaders of

  the cult weren’t shocked to hear it, but they didn’t quite know what to

  expect. “The first demonic cultivator to contribute enough to be

  promoted to the rank of Demonic Master shall become Vice Leader, until then, the position will remain vacant.” A few

  eyebrows were raised but no one spoke a word of complaint. “As we will

  be expanding our influence and founding new cities around Mansan, we

  will need both people to run the cities and to protect them. For that

  reason. Kwan.” The old man had finally been convinced to sit on a chair

  alongside the others in various leadership roles. He straightened his

  back at the mention of his name. “You will resume your former position. I

  hereby name you Magistrate of Mujin, capital of the Heavenly Demon

  Divine Cult.”

  Baz’ words carried great meaning and immense power, both

  simply as the Heavenly Demon and leader of the Group but also to a large

  extent because of his Talent, [Akashic Incarnation], and his [Chosen]

  Title.

  Being officially named Magistrate of the capital city of

  the cult brought with it a System Title. It was an achievement which the

  [System] sought fit to reward with enough experience to level the old

  man up many times over. Waves of essence poured into the Magistrate. To

  the heightened senses of most of the people in the room, he lit up like a

  lantern.

  When it was done, the old man wept. He was now over level

  30. He had surpassed Minor Accomplishment. In his youth, or rather up until the foundation of the cult, and

  truth be told, even beyond, that was such a high level that he would

  never even dare to dream about reaching it. With those levels came a

  feeling of youth, of spryness, that he hadn’t felt for many years. He

  shot to the middle of the meeting room and kowtowed in gratitude. “Thank

  you, Demon Lord! Long live the Heavenly Demon! Long live the Heavenly

  Demon Divine Cult!”

  Baz accepted the old man’s gratitude, and when he had

  returned to his seat, Baz turned to Safi. “Safi Anaya, I hereby name you

  Guardian of Mujin, capital of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.” The same

  thing happened as with the Magistrate, albeit at a smaller scale due to

  her already higher level.

  He continued and gave each of them a new title within the

  cult. The [System] acknowledged each one and gave them the

  corresponding Title. Eduard was named Commander of the City Watch. Gawen

  was also given the Title of [Guardian], like Safi, but was also awarded

  another Title by the [System], [Pioneer], as he would be responsible

  not for the capital but for the new city yet to be built.

  The Title of [Court Mage] was given to Víctor which was

  enough to push his level all the way to 50. He would be the first to

  face his tribulation. An unexpected boon of Baz’ upgraded Title and

  Talent was that the [System] gave Víctor five hours to prepare for his

  tribulation.

  A handful of other administrators who had worked in the

  palace for years were also given new Titles for the management of the

  cult. They all gained several levels, but it was obvious that their minor

  Titles were far inferior achievements, earning them less experience.

  Baz’ deep connection with the [System] granted him

  authority and power, but it wasn’t something that could be exploited.

  The [System] was as close to omniscient as was possible, and it was bound by

  Divine Laws. There were no loopholes available, like firing someone and

  giving their Title to someone else just to level them up. Granting

  Titles and authority had to be sincere. The same applied to every king,

  or emperor, or person with authority in any place of importance. They

  too could grant Titles, and thus experience, and Baz didn’t have too

  much of an advantage in that regard beyond some more freedom.

  “One final point of order,” Baz said. As he sat at the

  throne on the dais at the head of the room, his apprehension for what he

  was about to say was clear to see, at least to anyone who truly knew

  him. His anger and ambition in the face of their recent loss, however,

  had won his internal debate. “This attack showed us just how weak we

  still are. Yes, we defeated them, but we paid a steep price in blood. We

  need to not only expand but also be more aggressive in our growth. We only recently extended the curriculum of the Cave of Latent Demons, but now,

  with the addition of so many new Techniques and martial arts, I believe

  we need to extend it yet again. The disciples will train for ten years

  in the caves.” There were no major objections, everyone accepted the

  reality that mastering everything the disciples would need, took time.

  “Also, so far we have only accepted weaker adults to the Cave of Latent

  Demons due to the dangers of cultivation.” He paused and clenched his fist. “But adults

  are already set in their ways. Their intents are influenced by their

  past experiences. It makes it harder to teach them, and their own

  potential is lowered because of it. Furthermore, when they finally

  graduate, their long term potential is lowered further due the simple

  fact that they don’t have as many years left to continue cultivate. As

  such, we will henceforth exclusively recruit sproutlings to the Cave of Latent Demons.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  A few gasps could be heard around the room.

  In the Red Sea, and in Mugongji in general, sproutlings

  was the word they used for children ages 8—10, who were then old enough

  to take on larger roles in the household.

  “A— are you sure? Aren’t they a little young for something that dangerous?” Safi asked.

  “I for one couldn’t agree more with the Demon Lord’s

  decision,” Chul interjected. “Not only have I trained in the caves

  myself, but as Head Instructor, I can assure you, Lady Anaya, that the

  younger you are, the better. As the Demon Lord said, with age comes

  baggage. I myself struggled quite a bit at first due to preconceived

  notions learned throughout my life. It might even make the training

  safer for that very reason which would result in a greater number of

  graduates.”

  “Agreed.” Haru didn’t add much beyond her approval.

  Safi lowered her head. “I guess. That— that makes sense.”

  “I understand your concerns, Safi,” Baz said. “Recruiting

  children, separating them from their families, and training them in

  dangerous environments…" He sighed. "Those concerns are why it has taken me this long

  to come to this decision. But this attack will only be the first of

  many. Now we know for certain that the Great Martial Alliance knows

  about us, and even though they might struggle to reach us due to their

  lack of influence this far east, politics won’t keep them away forever.

  We need to make tough decisions and push ourselves harder than ever.”

  Baz’ eyes turned to Víctor who was trying his hardest to not appear

  quite as antsy as he actually was. “But for right now, I think we should

  adjourn this meeting. We have a tribulation to deal with.”

  POV Víctor Ollés

  The Major Accomplishment Tribulation was the greatest obstacle most ambitious people would ever face.

  Because of that, most people prepared for a very long

  time. Every detail would be planned out, and some even rehearsed the

  proceedings as the time drew near, to ensure that everything would run

  as smoothly as possible once the tribulation hit.

  Víctor was no different.

  He had already picked out a spot a decent distance away

  from the city. His plans required him to get help to travel there

  quickly. He had asked Baz to carry him there when the time came, without

  an smudge of shame or guilt.

  Without help, he would struggle to reach any decent spot

  far enough away that it wouldn’t cause issues for the city. All of his

  plans were based on the standard hour worth of preparation time given by

  the [System] so suddenly having 5 hours opened up all sorts of

  possibilities.

  There were many limitation on the tribulation, the

  biggest being that you couldn’t receive any help in enduring the

  lightning strikes. Even wearing armor was enough for the [System] to

  increase the intensity beyond your limits, making your death a near

  certainty.

  Víctor didn’t accept that.

  When he left Calindor, he had not been anywhere close to level 50.

  Thus, he never learned much about the tribulation and the methods

  developed by his alma mater to endure it. Each Group had their own

  secrets, plans, and routines for maximizing their odds.

  So he made his own plans.

  He had commissioned some notes and books about the Major Accomplishment Tribulation from Ambassador Jeoksa Jaemin.

  Every now and then, deliveries were facilitated for most

  simple resources the cult needed and couldn’t find locally. In return,

  the cult would provide protective escorts and whatever else help the

  Jeoksa Family, or the Ambassador himself, needed. As far as the

  patriarch of the Jeoksa Family was concerned, the Heavenly Demon Divine

  Cult was still just some new gang who had agreed to work for them.

  Once the meeting ended, Víctor clung to Baz’ back as the

  Cult Leader brought him to his office at the academy. The experience of

  dashing through space itself was fascinating, something he would have to

  investigate further. That was a matter for another day, though.

  He had supplies prepared, but the sudden level up, and

  the extra time given by the [System], meant he needed to pack in a

  hurry. There was no time to think; Víctor packed everything, and more.

  As he jumped back onto Baz’ back, he was worried that

  maybe he had packed too much. The Cult Leader was strong but carrying

  both Víctor himself and four large bags of magical supplies had to have

  been difficult.

  Baz hadn’t said a word about it. Not a single complaint.

  There wasn’t time to talk, but Víctor felt his heart grow fuller and the tension from the whole ordeal released somewhat.

  His former lieutenant, now Cult Leader, had never been

  quite like most leaders Víctor had known. There was no bravado or undue

  arrogance. He truly cared for his people.

  As they rushed out of Mujin, Víctor felt a tinge of

  sadness that Marion wouldn’t be here to see this. They had all worked so

  hard, and for her to lose her life just before this achievement was

  tragic. But Víctor knew that she wouldn’t want them to stop, to yield or

  slow down.

  Just when they reached their destination, Víctor steeled

  his resolve. He would surpass this tribulation, and the rest of his

  comrades would soon follow.

  The others joined them after about half an hour, their travel time was slightly longer as they took carriages or ran.

  With just about four hours remaining until Víctor’s Major

  Accomplishment Tribulation, everyone of the upper echelon of the cult

  stood by a flat clearing a distance outside of Mujin, surrounded by

  boulders and rock formations.

  Víctor was the only one who stepped foot on the clearing

  itself. Everyone else kept to the sidelines for fear of provoking the

  [System].

  The court mage spent almost thirty minutes reworking his plans and preparing.

  Now, he placed a small flag in the ground, on the edge of

  the clearing. It was the first to be placed with about a dozen more

  still to go. He paused on occasion, to carefully measure the natural

  essence, its density and flow.

  Precise manipulation of the flag itself was vital.

  The flag stood about knee height with a firm and rather

  short triangular red pennon. Once in the ground and activated, it was

  locked in place, unaffected by wind or anything else.

  While it was possible to just walk up and kick it over,

  the flow of natural essence around it caused a natural illusion where it

  was difficult to see it and even more difficult to try to touch it.

  “Are you sure about this,” Safi called out. She wasn’t the only one concerned, the tension was palpable.

  Víctor didn’t even look up. He responded resolutely as he continued with the next flag. “I am.”

  The [System] was finicky when it came to tribulations, as

  even drinking elixirs or donning armor after the countdown began was

  enough to incite its wrath.

  Víctor had spent a great deal of effort in studying the

  tribulation. He had a theory. He thought that the reason why you

  couldn’t use elixirs or armor of any other form of help was because it

  wasn’t your own power used—in the moment—to endure the lightning.

  You could, naturally, form shields of essence or use any

  other Skill you might have to protect yourself during the tribulation,

  but using an elixir that you didn’t make yourself or some equipment you didn’t forge was borrowing power. Even if you did forge it yourself,

  you didn’t do so during the tribulation itself. No elixir or equipment

  that could be made within the hour the [System] gave you would provide

  enough help to offset the weakened mentality of thinking you were

  protected. But Víctor had access to a different form of protection, a

  new kind of magic, formations.

  It was a gamble. One he couldn’t stop himself from taking.

  Originally, he was a simple support mage doing mercenary

  work to make ends meet, but over the last decade he had become a teacher

  and researcher.

  His curiosity wouldn’t let him pass over the opportunity to test his theory.

  The theory came from the idea that there had to be a line where something was considered borrowed.

  If you could brew an elixir of protection within the hour

  you were given to prepare, the [System] would likely let you. Making

  the elixir was a part of your own skill set, after all, and it would

  have been made after the tribulation was triggered. The same would

  likely apply to forging armor or enchanting some piece of equipment.

  However, where would the [System] draw the line? Would it

  be considered borrowing the power of the craftsman who made the

  beakers, burners, and cauldrons if you didn’t make those yourself as

  well? Perhaps you borrowed the power of the miner who brought the metal

  out of the earth? Surely not.

  The question of where that line was drawn, and especially

  where it would be drawn for formations, had entranced his mind for

  months.

  He didn’t create the formation flags himself, they were

  made and enchanted by other mages. However, their usage during the

  tribulation wouldn’t be to protect him, not directly, it would simply be

  to create and direct a flow of natural essence. It was already known

  that enchanted equipment could be used in the area so long as it wasn’t

  for the direct purpose of protection.

  The Demon Lord had told him of a friend’s tribulation

  many years ago. They had an enchanted fence around the area where the

  tribulation took place to protect them from monsters. It was borrowed

  power for protection during the tribulation but not protection for the

  tribulation lightning itself.

  That was his justification for using formations for protections.

  Formation flags created currents of natural essence, and

  with enough of them, you could create a circuit, much like the meridian

  system of a cultivator. In and of itself, that did nothing except move

  essence around. It took the skills of a formation master to activate the

  formation.

  He continued to place flag after flag.

  His original plan accounted for about half an hour worth

  of formation creation, not four. That meant he could adapt his plans.

  Rather than just a simple protection formation to shield him from the

  lightning, he also made an effort to redirect the energy. He put everything he had learned into this gamble.

  It took him just over three hours to finish the

  formation. When the final flag was placed, and the circuit was complete,

  the entire clearing shimmered.

  He took a quarter of an hour to review the formations and spent the last thirty minutes preparing himself mentally.

  The onlookers remained silent so as to not distract him.

  As the timer ticked down, tensions grew higher. No one knew if his theory would save his life or be the cause of his death.

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