"I made the wrong choice because I couldn't see the future."
That was Mukhwang's quiet confession, spoken as the world trembled around him.
Nothing came without a price. Especially not power born from sacrifice.
For human sacrifice—the act of gaining strength in exchange for life—the side effects were absolute. Those who sought such strength often lost their sense of self, consumed by the very darkness they invoked.
It was power obtained by surrendering one's future.
Even Mukhwang, the Silent Emperor, knew this truth. Yet, a calm smile lingered on his lips.
"You worry needlessly," he said, his voice echoing through the shattered palace. "I am Silence. All things born of darkness and despair bow before me."
The emperors of the world were each granted authority befitting their domains. The Demon Emperor wielded destruction and dominion; the Silent Emperor commanded shadows and sorrow.
There was no balance, no fairness—only will and consequence.
"And you," Mukhwang sneered, his dark eyes locking onto Lee Seong-jun, "have no right to lecture me about choices."
His words dripped with venom. "You— the twisted Demon King who rewound time itself and disrupted the flow of the universe—dare to speak of right and wrong?"
Lee Seong-jun's eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"
The words struck him like a spear. He had long suspected that his return and the distortion of time through the Thousand Continents were linked. Yet, with no answers, he had moved forward—fighting, conquering, surviving.
But Mukhwang's words cut through his uncertainty.
"Answer me," Seong-jun demanded, his tone sharp.
Mukhwang's smirk deepened. "Did I not already declare it? The Thousand Continents is a world where the strong take all. You'll understand soon enough."
The air itself seemed to split as Seong-jun vanished, launching forward like a beam of light.
Long before this confrontation, the man now known as the Silent Emperor had been human.
Even in the land of Pangea, where aura, magic, and martial arts coexisted, few could rival his skill. But compared to the Three Emperors—rulers of heaven and earth—he was still a shadow.
The gap between them was immense, and it widened with every passing day.
At first, he fought to surpass them with training, determination, and sheer will. But talent was a wall he could not break.
Anxiety turned to desperation. Desperation gave birth to madness.
And then—he saw it. A light of blasphemy.
It whispered of a path beyond human limits: power through sacrifice.
He didn't hesitate.
He slaughtered his own followers, the faithful of the Cheonmasin Cult, offering their lives to the abyss in exchange for strength.
The screams of the dying echoed in his ears, but he shut them out.
This was the only way.
He gave everything—his comrades, his humanity, his soul. In return, he devoured darkness itself and ascended as the fourth emperor of Pangea.
But it wasn't enough.
He wanted more.
He continued to sacrifice every life under his command, drowning in blood and shadows, until even the heavens trembled at his name.
And now, that power stood before the Demon Emperor.
"Once I unleash everything," Mukhwang said coldly, "you have no chance of winning."
As Seong-jun charged, the Silent Emperor flicked his wrist.
The air howled.
A blade of invisible energy cut through space, fast as sound. Blood traced a thin line down Seong-jun's cheek.
Mukhwang grinned. "This is the limit of the power you gained by defying time. Pathetic."
But the smirk faltered when Seong-jun's aura shifted—his blood energy surging, humming like a living storm.
"It's not enough yet," Seong-jun murmured, eyes burning crimson.
'Blood Demonization.'
His hair grew long, his pupils gleamed red, and the air vibrated as a crimson system window flared before him.
[The body enters a state of Blood Demonization.]
[All attributes—Strength, Agility, Vitality—have increased by 200.]
[Your control over blood energy has intensified.]
[Special Skill: Demon Emperor's Reign—Activated.]
The world shuddered as his power exploded outward.
"Let's end this."
He vanished.
A sonic boom erupted, the impact striking before the sound reached Mukhwang's ears. The Silent Emperor's body twisted, his stance broken.
Seong-jun didn't stop.
'Formula Two—Bloody Battle.'
A red Asura silhouette erupted from his aura, engulfing Mukhwang in a pillar of fire. His armor screamed under the pressure as layers of defense shattered like glass.
But Seong-jun wasn't finished.
'Third Consciousness—Unity of Heaven and Earth.'
Ten crimson clones materialized, each channeling his power. The ground rippled, the air split, and the heavens trembled as blood energy gathered in his palm.
The explosion that followed consumed everything.
"GAAAAAAH!"
Mukhwang's scream was torn away by the shockwave.
He staggered, his body charred and bleeding, disbelief clouding his gaze.
My self-defense… broke?
He had always believed that sheer internal power guaranteed victory. Yet, now—his own energy was being overpowered, reversed.
It was impossible. Unthinkable.
Is this… a monster?
Even as pain wracked his body, his greed refused to die.
'If I defeat him… if I kill that demon… the universe itself will acknowledge me!'
He laughed bitterly through the blood dripping from his lips.
But as Seong-jun stood unshaken, energy still building within him, Mukhwang's grin wavered.
"You still have strength left?" he breathed in disbelief.
The energy radiating from Seong-jun was overwhelming, yet somehow… restrained.
"How…? Your aura isn't that strong. What are you—"
Seong-jun's voice was calm, almost pitying.
"You talk too much."
And with that, the Demon Emperor stepped forward—each stride echoing like a drum of war, his crimson power blazing brighter than the darkness itself.
The battle between emperor and demon was far from over. But the tide of fate had already begun to turn.