Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 86- Demon Sect

The Obsidian Hall lived up to its name—every surface carved from black volcanic glass that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, creating an atmosphere of oppressive darkness broken only by crimson spirit flames floating in iron braziers.

Twelve massive thrones arranged in a circle, six on each side, facing each other across a central dais where the Heavenly Demon’s seat stood.

Empty.

As it had been for two weeks.

The Twelve Elders of the Heavenly Demon Palace sat in their respective positions, each throne carved with symbols representing their faction, their power, their legacy within the organization that had ruled the demonic cultivation world for three centuries.

Elder Mu Chen, First Elder and nominal leader in the Heavenly Demon’s absence, broke the heavy silence.

"Two weeks." His voice was like grinding stone—deep, rough, carrying the weight of seventy years of life and forty years of scheming. "The Young Lord has been absent for two weeks without word. Without explanation."

He was a thin man, deceptively frail-looking, with a long white beard and eyes that missed nothing. Foundation Establishment Peak, specializing in assassination techniques.

"Perhaps he’s dead," Elder Zhao Feng offered from the opposite side, his tone carefully neutral but his eyes gleaming with barely concealed satisfaction.

Zhao Feng was massive—easily seven feet tall, muscles bulging beneath crimson robes, his bald head tattooed with demonic symbols. Core Formation middle stage, a pure combat specialist who’d crushed seventeen rebellions with his bare hands.

"Watch your tongue," Elder Shen Yue hissed from her throne, fingers tightening on the armrests. "The Young Lord is—"

"A mortal who somehow inherited the position," Elder Liu Han interrupted smoothly, examining his fingernails with affected disinterest. "Let’s not pretend we don’t all find that... problematic."

Liu Han was beautiful in an androgynous way—long black hair, delicate features, wearing flowing robes that obscured his gender deliberately. Core Formation early stage, master of illusions and poisons.

"Problematic?" Elder Shen Yue’s voice rose. "He is the direct bloodline heir. The son of—"

"The son of a Heavenly Demon who died mysteriously few years ago," Elder Mu Chen cut in, voice still calm but carrying authority. "Leaving us with a child who was raised in the mortal world. Who possesses no cultivation. Who vanished the moment he was brought here."

Shen Yue—a woman in her forties, still beautiful, with sharp features and sharper eyes—glared at the First Elder. Core Formation late stage, skilled in both combat and administration, one of the few genuinely loyal to the bloodline.

"He was sent on a mission," she said tightly. "By unanimous council decision. To prove himself worthy. And he’s been gone barely two weeks—"

"Two weeks is a long time," Elder Wang Shu observed quietly.

She was perhaps the oldest present—late seventies, hunched over her throne, but her eyes were alert and calculating. Nascent Soul early stage, the most powerful cultivator in the palace, specializing in soul techniques.

"Long enough for the factions outside our walls to notice," Wang Shu continued. "Long enough for questions to arise. Long enough for our enemies to wonder if the Heavenly Demon Palace has lost its heir."

"Then we make a public showing," Elder Zhao Feng said, leaning forward eagerly. "Demonstrate our strength. Show that we don’t need some mortal child to lead us."

"You mean demonstrate YOUR strength," Elder Lin Bai said dryly.

Lin Bai was unremarkable-looking—average height, average build, forgettable face—which was exactly how he liked it. Core Formation peak, intelligence specialist who knew every secret in the palace and half the secrets outside it.

"I mean demonstrate the Palace’s strength," Zhao Feng corrected, though his smirk suggested otherwise. "Through proper channels. Traditional channels."

"You’re proposing the Succession Trial," Elder Mu Chen said, not a question but a statement.

"I’m proposing we acknowledge reality," Zhao Feng replied. "The Young Lord is missing. Possibly dead. Probably dead, given that FoxKin assassination attempt two weeks ago."

"We don’t know that was an assassination—" Shen Yue started.

"A weak injured FoxKin woman appeared on his way in front of his carriage," Elder Lin Bai interrupted quietly. "Attacked, got injured and fell out of cliff..."

Uncomfortable silence fell across the hall.

"The point," Elder Mu Chen said, reclaiming control of the conversation, "is that the position of Heavenly Demon cannot remain vacant indefinitely. We have laws. Traditions. If the heir is absent for more than one month without contact—"

"—the Succession Trial is automatically initiated," Elder Liu Han finished. "I know the laws, First Elder. We all do."

"Then we’re agreed?" Mu Chen’s gaze swept the circle. "We initiate the Trial preparations?"

"Not agreed," Shen Yue said firmly. "He has two more weeks. If he returns—"

"If he returns, he participates like any other candidate," Zhao Feng said, smile widening. "Surely if he’s worthy of being Heavenly Demon, he can prove it in the Academy like the rest?"

The trap was obvious. Transparent. But effective.

Because the Heavenly Demon Academy Entrance Trials were brutal. Designed to test candidates who’d trained their entire lives for this opportunity. Candidates who possessed cultivation, combat skills, political acumen.

Not mortals raised in obscurity.

"That seems... fair," Elder Liu Han said, voice carefully neutral. "If the Young Lord returns and proves himself worthy through the same trials as everyone else, who could object?"

Several elders nodded, sensing the momentum shifting.

"And if he doesn’t return?" Elder Wang Shu asked.

"Then the winner of the Succession Trial becomes the next Heavenly Demon," Mu Chen said. "As tradition dictates."

More nods. The decision crystallizing.

Elder Shen Yue looked around the circle, seeing the barely concealed satisfaction on most faces, and knew she’d lost this battle.

"I want it recorded," she said coldly, "that I object to this course. That I believe we’re betraying our oaths to the bloodline—"

"Recorded and noted," Mu Chen said dismissively. "All in favor of initiating Succession Trial preparations?"

Eight hands rose. Only Shen Yue, Elder Feng Hua (a quiet woman who rarely spoke), Elder Bai Sheng (an ancient man who seemed half-asleep), and Elder Tang Wei (a scholar-warrior with conflicted expression) abstained.

"Motion passes," Mu Chen declared. "The Heavenly Demon Academy Entrance Trials will commence in one month. All qualified candidates may participate. Including—" his smile was thin, "—the Young Lord, should he deign to return."

The malice in his tone was unmistakable.

The meeting dissolved, elders rising and departing through various exits, already plotting, already scheming.

And Elder Shen Yue remained seated, watching them go, fury and fear warring in her chest.

Elder Shen Yue waited until the Obsidian Hall emptied completely before rising from her throne.

Her footsteps echoed in the vast empty space as she walked—not toward the main exit, but toward a seemingly solid wall of black glass.

Her hand pressed against a specific spot, and spiritual energy flowed from her palm.

A section of wall slid open silently, revealing a hidden corridor.

She entered, and the wall sealed behind her.

The corridor was narrow, unlit except by the faint glow of her own cultivation. It descended steeply, taking her deep beneath the palace, into sections that officially didn’t exist.

After several minutes of walking, she reached a circular chamber.

And punched the central pillar.

CRACK—

Her fist, enhanced by Core Formation spiritual energy, struck the stone column hard enough to fracture it, cracks spreading outward like spiderwebs.

The sound echoed. A signal.

And from the shadows around the chamber’s perimeter, figures emerged.

Not walking. Materializing. As if they’d been part of the darkness itself.

Seven of them. All dressed in tight black clothing that seemed to absorb light. Faces hidden behind featureless masks.

The Shadow Division. The Heavenly Demon’s personal intelligence and assassination force, answering only to the bloodline.

"Report," Shen Yue commanded, her voice hard.

The central figure—slightly taller than the others, with a red marking on their mask indicating leadership—stepped forward and knelt.

"Elder Shen." The voice was androgynous, impossible to identify. "You summoned us."

"The council has betrayed him," Shen Yue said bluntly. "They’re moving forward with the Succession Trial. They want him dead or discredited."

"We suspected as much."

"I need him found," Shen Yue continued. "The Young Lord is our only legitimate heir. The only one with the true bloodline. If we lose him—"

"The palace falls to the factions," the Shadow leader finished. "We understand, Elder. We’ve been searching."

"And?"

Silence. Uncomfortable shifting among the shadow operatives.

"We’ve lost his trail," the leader finally admitted. "The Qi Signature of Fox Kin woman who took him—Lianhua—first dissapeared as if she died neaely but suddenly sparked as if she regained her former cuktivayion though not complete as legends of battle said. About her energy signatures, we tried to dig deeper and the trail went cold somewhere in the Qinghe region."