Daddy is too Strong-Chapter 253

The Heavenly Demon Sect was a mysterious organization.

According to rumors circulating in the martial world, it was a place where the most formidable masters gathered. Officially, the Righteous Sect was represented by the Martial Alliance, while the Evil was represented by the Blood Sect. However, traveling storytellers often claimed that the true ruler of the Central Plains was neither the government, the Martial Alliance, nor the Blood Sect, but rather the Heavenly Demon Sect.

Guang Le, a direct disciple of the Shaolin Sect’s head monk, was born under the star of Heavenly Slaughter. He destroyed Shaolin, the sect that had raised him, and began his journey to the Central Plains. Although he was a master of supreme martial arts, he couldn't stand against the elite forces of the Martial Alliance, who sought to bring him to justice for his crimes. To escape, he decided to hide in the Kunlun Mountains, a treacherous mountain range known for its harsh terrain.

Seven days later, at the foot of the mist-covered Kunlun mountain range, Guang Le stumbled upon the Heavenly Demon Sect.

“I can’t believe a place like this exists!” he had thought. Entranced, he naturally made his way toward it.

For Guang Le, who had grown bored with his monotonous life in Shaolin, this place was exciting.

The Heavenly Demon Sect strictly followed the principle of survival of the fittest. However, there was one rule: no killing among fellow sect members. As long as this rule was respected, members could learn the sect’s martial arts and continuously become stronger, building a strong foundation for power.

Despite being born under the Heavenly Slaughter star, Guang Le strictly adhered to this single rule and advanced rapidly, eventually earning the prestigious title of the Supreme Demon.

Even as he followed the sect’s rules and established himself as a dominant force within it, Guang Le carried a single burning question for more than a decade. It wasn’t just him; in fact, this question bothered many members of the Heavenly Demon Sect.

***

Back on the fifth floor of the Core, Guang Le muttered, “Over all the years I spent in the Heavenly Demon Sect, there was one question that I just could not find an answer to. Does the Heavenly Demon even exist?”

For over twenty years in the Central Plains, Guang Le trained within the sect and rose to become one of the three Supreme Demons. Yet, he never once saw the Heavenly Demon in person.

The title of Supreme Demon itself seemed to be a natural progression within the sect, a designation bestowed upon those who mastered the sect’s magical arts and instilled fear in others. Even though he had earned his fame and recognition within the sect, he had never been granted an audience with the Heavenly Demon.

“Some members claimed to have met the Heavenly Demon, but all their stories turned out to be made up.”

Some said the Heavenly Demon was the scribe of the sect’s martial archives. Others described him as a young janitor sweeping the courtyard every morning. Still others believed he was a shopkeeper in the market, or a healer known as the Demon Immortal.

Wei Zhongqi listened without saying a word.

Guang Le continued, “So, I’ve come to believe this.”

Maybe the Heavenly Demon wasn't a real person but a fictional figure—a tool created solely to maintain order within the sect. And maybe the title of Heavenly Demon was an honor anyone in the sect could earn, as long as they had enough strength.

“I must become the Heavenly Demon myself.”

In a world where the strong ruled, strength was everything. Guang Le believed that if he became the strongest member of the Heavenly Demon Sect, it would be equivalent to becoming the Heavenly Demon himself.

Wei Zhongqi suddenly coughed up blood because of his injury. Although he knew Guang Le was once a Legion Commander under Baal, he didn’t expect his power to be this overwhelming. Despite using Barrier to minimize the damage, his ribs were probably broken, and his organs were thrown into disarray. Wei Zhongqi bit his lip.

“That’s funny. So, what you’re telling me is that the self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon ended up serving as Baal’s subordinate?" He sneered at Guang Le, whose expression twisted violently at Wei Zhongqi’s words.

At the same time, his hands turned crimson—a phenomenon seen when using the Surah Blood Palm, a technique honed to perfection. At a glance, it looked similar to the first stage of Armorize, but its true power was incomparable.

“You’d best watch your tongue. Your insignificant life is in my hands. Out of respect for our past as fellow sect members, I will show mercy one last time. Bow before me!” Guang Le snapped.

Wei Zhongqi panted heavily but refused to let his eyes dim. His gaze was in fact brighter than Guang Le’s, burning with defiance. He drew his sword. The white knot on its hilt swayed in the wind. It was the insignia of the Shadowless Squad, the Heavenly Demon Sect’s secret inspectors.

In his mind, the memories of his past life flashed like a lantern.

Although he was just an inspector, the Heavenly Demon personally taught him swordsmanship, the Nine Heavens Demon Sword Art. Despite years of practice, he hadn't mastered a single technique from the art, but the Heavenly Demon’s teachings helped him survive in the tough Deep Realm.

“Like everyone else in the sect, you failed to perfect any of its martial arts. The reason you clung so desperately to the Surah Blood Palm is that you couldn’t fully master the sect’s techniques. Am I wrong?” Wei Zhongqi challenged Guang Le.

Veins bulged on Guang Le’s forehead as he ground his teeth.

Wei Zhongqi tightened his grip on his sword, his voice sharp. “You didn’t want to admit it, did you? That a so-called genius of Shaolin like you failed to master the sect’s techniques, just like everyone else.”

But that was no shame. Even if one failed to master the Heavenly Demon’s martial arts, it wasn’t something to mock. If anything, it was an expected outcome.

“After ten years of relentless effort, you couldn’t even master a single technique. And yet you dare to speak of bestowing yourself the title of the Heavenly Demon?” Wei Zhongqi scoffed.

Guang Le’s face no longer resembled a human’s. Distorted by jealousy, resentment, and fury, he looked no different from a ferocious monster.

“If the Heavenly Demon doesn’t exist, where do you think the sect’s martial arts came from?” Wei Zhongqi challenged him again.

Guang Le didn’t want to admit it. After dedicating ten years to studying and practicing the sect’s martial arts, he had failed to master even a single basic technique. He had memorized the mnemonic phrases of the Frost Demon Palm to the point that he could recite them without error, but despite over a decade of effort, he couldn’t even reach the first level of mastery.

In the end, he poured everything into the Surah Blood Palm, abandoning all else. Although this elevated him to the position of Supreme Demon, deep within Guang Le’s heart, a sense of inferiority remained.

“Gaaaaaah!” With a lion’s roar, Guang Le charged at Wei Zhongqi.

Wei Zhongqi executed the first form of the Nine Heavens Demon Sword Art, while Guang Le unleashed his perfected Surah Blood Palm.

The two powers collided with a deafening crash.

***

The two men coughed up blood, but their conditions were vastly different. Wei Zhongqi collapsed on the spot, while Guang Le, though slashed deeply across the chest, managed to avoid a fatal injury.

Guang Le was furious, not because he was wounded by a member of the measly Shadowless Squad, but because he had nearly been killed by the incomplete first form of the Nine Heavens Demon Sword Art. While Wei Zhongqi’s purple Status Window had played a role, the technique itself originated from the Heavenly Demon Sect, which only added to Guang Le’s rage.

Wei Zhongqi lay sprawled on the ground, coughing as he spat out another mouthful of blood. His chest was grotesquely misshapen, with blood streaming down to soak the floor.

Consumed by rage, Guang Le no longer cared about honor. His only thought was to kill Wei Zhongqi. His hands, soaked in crimson energy, started to glow ominously again.

Wei Zhongqi’s eyelids were slowly closing, but Guang Le noticed that his fading gaze wasn’t fixed on him but somewhere over his shoulder—far off in the distance.

He muttered, “Hea...venly... Demon...”

Moments later, Wei Zhongqi’s eyes fully shut.

Guang Le turned, slowly, ever so slowly, and saw someone standing at the edge of the cliff. “Eh? What’s this? Just another small fry.”

It must have been one of the Rise Blood Alliance members he had missed earlier. However, the person’s attire was strange; something Guang Le had never seen before. The man wore a simple black coat that offered no obvious protection.

Scoffing, Guang Le prepared to leap toward the man. But his body wouldn’t move. No matter how much energy he summoned, nothing worked.

What... what is happening?

The absurdity of the situation made him oddly calm. Guang Le turned his attention to the man. He wasn’t looking at him but at Wei Zhongqi, who lay bleeding on the ground.

Wei Zhongqi coughed again, blood staining his lips. This time, the man turned his head slightly to meet Guang Le’s gaze, and the moment their eyes met, Guang Le shivered.

The man’s cold, sunken eyes carried no discernible emotion.

Guang Le immediately recalled the words muttered by Wei Zhongqi.

“Hea...venly... Demon...” 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

And then, his eyes widened in realization. The true master of the Heavenly Demon Sect, shrouded in mystery—his face, voice, and very existence veiled—until now.

Guang Le repeatedly denied it internally. But his instincts overruled his logic. His knees trembled uncontrollably, and his legs shook like delicate tree branches.

This pressure... what is this...?

He couldn’t breathe properly. Or rather, was he even breathing at all? It felt as though he had forgotten how to draw air.

The man muttered a single word. “Kneel.”

Thud!

Guang Le dropped to his knees with a thump, but it wasn't by his own will. His body moved completely on its own.

Thud!

This time, his forehead hit the ground.

Again, it wasn’t his doing.

The man walked past the prostrated Guang Le and lifted Wei Zhongqi from the ground.

Guang Le’s heart felt as though it might burst. Could this man truly be... the Heavenly Demon?

Trembling violently, Guang Le was overwhelmed by a fear he had never experienced before. Even in the presence of the Demon King Baal, even when cursed by him, he had only felt annoyance. What was this now?

Then, another being entered through the entrance. It was one of the Immortals from the fourth floor of the Core—Cho Yang-Un—whom Guang Le also knew about. The man handed Wei Zhongqi to Cho Yang-Un, who slung him over his back and ascended to the fourth floor.

Now, only Guang Le and the man remained on the fifth floor.

The force binding Guang Le vanished.

Realizing he could move again, he quickly created distance between himself and the man, retreating ten meters while readying himself to counterattack. Crimson energy started to swirl around his hands.

“You only disappoint me,” the man said coldly.

A blue aura rose from Do-Jun’s hands. As it did, the ground around them began to freeze.

Guang Le’s eyes widened in shock. “F-Frost Demon Palm!”

How could he not recognize it?

“Y-you’re the... the real Hea... Heavenly...” But his words trailed off before he could finish speaking.

With loud cracks, frost spread rapidly, engulfing Guang Le and the entirety of the fifth floor of the Core in ice.

***

Chirp, chirp.

Wei Zhongqi woke up in a room. His torso was heavily wrapped in bandages, but he felt no pain. His bones had healed well.

Then, he recalled the moment right before he lost consciousness.

Through the slightly open sliding door, he saw Do-Jun sitting on the porch, gazing down at the mountain. Wei Zhongqi approached him slowly, knelt, and bowed deeply.

“I am deeply sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. I have no excuse,” he apologized.

“Are you alright?” Do-Jun asked.

“Yes. Thanks to you...”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Do-Jun picked up his briefcase and stood.

Just as he was about to leave for work, he paused and asked, “Are you still practicing the techniques regularly?”

“Yes, I practice every day.”

“If there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to ask me.”

Leaving those words behind, Do-Jun disappeared.

Moments later, Cho Yang-Un entered, carrying a plate of sliced fruit. Not seeing Do-Jun, he asked, “H-he already left?”

“Yes.”

“Geez, couldn’t he at least say goodbye before leaving?”

Wei Zhongqi then noticed his sword leaning against the wall. The white knot tied to its hilt had been torn during his fight with Guang Le, yet somehow, it was perfectly fine once again.