**Logline:** Born under a cursed blood moon to the most terrifying power in the Murim, Cheon Ju-Mayi inherits a legacy of darkness and a destiny written in starlight. His path to ultimate glory begins not with a sword, but with a newborn's wail that shatters the silence of the demonic peak.
***
The night Cheon Ju-Mayi entered the world was etched in violence. High within the jagged, obsidian spires of the Black Tortoise Mountains, deep in the heart of the *Cheonma Chong* (Heavenly Demon Sect) fortress, the very air vibrated with suffocating demonic energy. Torches sputtered weakly, casting grotesque, leaping shadows on the frigid stone walls like imprisoned spirits. Outside, an unnatural **Blood Moon** hung low and heavy, bathing the peaks in an eerie crimson light, an omen whispered about in fearful taverns across the righteous sects.
Within the innermost sanctum, thick with the scent of iron and rare, potent herbs, the atmosphere crackled. Sect Elders, masters whose names alone could silence villages, stood rigid, their faces masks of grim anticipation. At the center of it all, seated upon a throne carved from a single, monstrous beast skull, was **Cheonma Suryeong** – the Heavenly Demon Sovereign. His presence was a physical weight, a crushing void of darkness contained within human form. His eyes, like chips of polished obsidian, were fixed on the heavy doors leading to the birthing chamber. No flicker of concern touched his features, only a cold, calculating intensity.
Suddenly, a tremor ran through the fortress. Not an earthquake, but a wave of pure, chaotic energy emanating from the chamber. The torches flared wildly, then dimmed to near darkness. The Elders exchanged uneasy glances; even their hardened demonic hearts felt the pressure.
Then came the sound.
Not a gentle whimper, but a raw, piercing **CRY** that ripped through the silence. It wasn't merely the sound of new life; it was a physical force. Stone dust sifted from the ceiling. A nearby vase, forged from black iron, cracked cleanly in two. Several Elders staggered back a step, hands instinctively reaching for weapons they hadn't drawn in decades. The cry echoed, filled with an unsettling power – a newborn's vulnerability fused with the nascent, terrifying potential of demonic heritage.
The doors burst open. An old midwife, her face pale but etched with awe, stumbled out. "Suryeong-nim! A son! A healthy... *powerful* son!"
Cheonma Suryeong rose. His movement was unnaturally swift, a blur of black silk and contained menace. He strode into the chamber, the Elders parting before him like reeds before a storm. The air inside was thick, charged with residual energy and the metallic tang of blood. On a bed draped in darkest velvet lay the mother, exhausted but radiating fierce pride. In her arms, swaddled in silk the color of dried blood, was the source of the world-shaking cry.
Cheon Ju-Mayi.
The Heavenly Demon approached. His obsidian gaze swept over the tiny form. The baby had stopped crying, his eyes wide open. They weren't the soft blue or brown of an infant. They were a startling, luminous **amber**, like captured embers, already seeming to observe, to *understand* far too much. Wisps of faint, crimson-tinged Qi, barely visible, seemed to flicker around his tiny fists.
As Cheonma Suryeong extended a single, pale finger towards the child's forehead, a visible ripple of dark energy pulsed down his arm. He touched the baby's skin.
**BOOM.**
An invisible shockwave erupted. The heavy stone walls groaned. The midwife cried out, shielding her eyes. The mother gasped. Cheon Ju-Mayi didn't flinch. Instead, those amber eyes locked onto his father's face with unnerving focus. The tiny body absorbed the probing demonic energy not with resistance, but with a terrifying *hunger*. The crimson wisps around his fists flared brighter for a split second.
A murmur, low and ancient, escaped the lips of the Blind Seer, an Elder who had witnessed centuries pass. "The Blood Moon's herald... The power... it sleeps within him, Suryeong-nim. Deep, vast... like the Abyss itself. He is the vessel."
Cheonma Suryeong withdrew his finger. For the first time that night, a flicker of something other than cold calculation touched his eyes – a spark of predatory *interest*, a dark flame of anticipation. He looked at the child, Cheon Ju-Mayi, his heir, born under a cursed sky with the power to shatter stone with his first breath.
"Ju-Mayi," the Heavenly Demon's voice was a low rumble, colder than the mountain wind. "Heaven's Master Demon. A fitting name." He leaned closer, his shadow engulfing the infant. "You carry the blood. You carry the curse. You carry the *potential*." His gaze intensified, boring into the baby's amber eyes. "The Murim fears your father, boy. But they will learn to *dread* the son. Glory is not given. It is seized, forged in blood and broken bone. Your path begins now."
He straightened, addressing the room, his voice echoing with absolute command. "Prepare the Crimson Bone Nectar. He will bathe in it before the moon wanes. His body must be tempered as his spirit is... unique."
The Elders bowed deeply, understanding the implication. The Crimson Bone Nectar was a torturous concoction, potent enough to kill a seasoned warrior, used to forcibly awaken and strengthen demonic constitutions. For a newborn... it was unheard of. Cruel. Necessary, in the eyes of the Demon Sovereign.
Cheon Ju-Mayi, oblivious to the dark path already being carved for him, blinked his strange amber eyes. One tiny fist escaped the swaddling, clenching and unclenching. A single, almost imperceptible spark of crimson Qi danced across his knuckles before vanishing.
The cry that shook the fortress was just the beginning. The bath of agony awaited. The Heavenly Demon's heir had arrived, and the long, brutal forging of the Ultimate Warrior had commenced with his first breath under the blood-red moon. The Murim world, sleeping in uneasy ignorance, had just gained its most terrifying variable.