Sword Fiend.{Chronicles Of The Heavenly Demon Fan-Fic.}

In the darkness of the Cave that Number 800 was locked in, a crimson light shone brightly, illuminating the place with its reach.

'The Dark Flower Red Heart has been completed...but I could tell that this is not the whole technique. This is just a rudimentary version that they spread around the cult.'

With a swipe of his sword, he sent out a wave of crimson Qi that seared the wall in front of him with overwhelming heat.

"I've reached the limits of this cultivation technique. I need to find a way to improve it."

Sticking the mortal blade into the ground, Number 800 ran his hands through his short, spiky black hair, exhaling as he saw a door opening up on the opposite side of wear he entered.

"Hm..."

Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Number 800 desummoned the black mortal blade and picked up his iron weapons, walking out into the light.

"...it seems that this trial isn't over yet."

His tattered black robes revealed the innumerable scars engraved on his body from the reckless, extreme training he put himself through over the past four years.

Number 800 was now a grown man. He stood at about 180cm, his weight, without bracers, was just over 100kg, and his body had muscles in places that didn't even make sense.

He had come a long way from the weak, thin little boy who was on his way to the afterlife several years ago.

Walking through the hallway, Number 800 deflected arrows, poisonous spears and even avoided perilous traps with every step. All of this was a part of the trial.

Within minutes, he happened upon what seemed to be a red, torn curtain separating the hall from a completely dark room.

When Number 800 walked through the curtain, he immediately saw someone else standing there, wielding a Dao.

"Oh? Are you waiting for me?"

The figure was masked and his build was imposing. He was almost as large as Number 800.

WHOOSH!

The figure rushed at Number 800 without responding, brandishing his blade without hesitation.

"So many openings..."

Sticking his spear in the ground, Number 800 slowly got into a 'lai' stance with his longsword, holding the blade at his side.

The figure was confused at this move, but he continued moving forward. After all, only one of them would leave alive.

"Prepare to die."

The figure spoke as he got in range of Number 800, sure that his blade would strike the man before he could draw his sword.

A strange, slight sound of wind went past the figure's ear as he slashed down at Number 800, but he ignored it. He had to finish the enemy in front of him.

That's when he noticed something. His vision started to appear as if it was 'cut in half.'

CLANG!

The frontal half of his blade fell to the ground.

THUD!

The left half of his body slowly separated from the right as it fell to the ground, his organs falling out of place right after.

He was dead before his own brain could even register an attack hitting him.

"Hm...I still have a long way to go."

Number 800 walked over the man's corpse continuing forward until another door opened in front of him, revealing several figures standing atop a stage.

One of them was the senior instructor, who seemed as if he hadn't aged a bit.

The one leading them though, was a man that Number 800 had never seen before, but it seemed as if he had a higher position than the senior instructor.

"Congratulations on your survival in the second gate of life and death, Number 800. It's our first time meeting like this."

Looking around at everyone else there, the number of students had been reduced drastically. But, of course, Number 17, Number 1, Number 900 and Number 109 had all survived.

This was within Number 800's expectations.

Cupping his fists, Number 800 simply replied, "Reporting."

Glancing at the one leading them, Number 800 could see that he was stronger than everyone else there by at least one level.

But he wasn't convinced that he would lose in a fight against him.

'It's too bad that I can't just start fighting who I want.'

The leader then said, "Good job to all of you. By passing the second gate of life and death, you have all become proud Demonic captains. At the age of 20, you all have become one of the 2000 Demonic Captains within the cult. Some of you are no short of being Demonic Generals."

Glancing at a few of the students, he continued, "But either way, you all look tired after surviving the second gate of life and death. As a result, the leader has bestowed an award upon all of you. You are allowed to eat and drink as much as you want today."

As if on cue, multiple servants came out with large tables and several dishes in tow. It was a large feast, intended for a massive family at least. But it was just for the students.

They hadn't eaten anything so good since they came to the Cave.

"Now, eat and rest for all you want today, because tomorrow, you will be facing the third gateway of life and death! We'll not get in your way. So enjoy your time."

Number 800's body shook as he saw this. His cells craved the food. His muscles craved the food.

"Watch out."

Moving someone aside, Number 800 and Number 1 moved at the same time, sitting down to devour the food in front of them.

As fate would have, they were the two largest students muscle-wise, so that played a part in their hunger.

After hesitating a bit more, everyone else sat down and ate, celebrating the fact that they could have good meat after a long time.

On the side, the leader and the senior instructor stood with their hands clasped behind their backs.

"I would've never imagined that Number 900 would reach the level of a Demonic General. Who would imagine him as 900th in rank of talent?"

Nodding in agreement, the senior instructor replied, "I was surprised myself. I never imagined him growing to such a level."

A wide smile appeared on the leaders' face as he heard this.

"Just like Number 800. That one is...something else. Right now, he's like a caged beast waiting to be released upon his enemies. I could feel his intensity in every movement he makes. Both Number 800 and Number 900 are beyond ordinary Demonic Generals."

The senior instructor was dumbfounded at this proclamation.

"Are you saying...they're stronger than Number 17?"

"Maybe. I can't give a sure answer. But, one thing is for sure. To answer to that question will be revealed tomorrow. "

[The next morning]

At an arena built within a valley within the mountain range, all the students could be seen on the stands around the stage.

The leader stood on the middle of the stage, hands behind his back, smile upon his face, surrounded by the rest of the instructors.

"Good...everyone's here on time. This is where the third gate of life and death will be conducted. Only the strong stand. The strong stand alone and the weak perish. This is true in any part of the martial society, but especially more in our cult. Also, the strong are treated appropriately. If so, you must all be curious about who is the strongest amongst you!!"

Number 800 smiled in excitement as he gripped his sword, his blood boiling.

"That is what we will find out in third gate of life and death! Dead or alive! Make the opponent surrender through the strife of life and death! If they don't surrender, you can present them death! But remember one thing before you engage! Only a winner and loser exist on this stage!"

The students were pumped up after hearing his proclamation. Their shouts echoed across the valley, shaking the mountain itself.

As the leader turned to leave the stage, he stopped and continued, "Oh, I forgot one thing. To the one who survived until the end, we will make you a weapon that consists of 3.75kg of flame-patterned black iron. If you desire it, do not lose."

With that, the leader left the stage to the senior instructor.

"Now, I will explain the rules. It's simple. We select two trainees to battle. The winners from each match will keep fighting each other until there is only one left standing. Let's begin! First match! Number 800 vs. Number 203!"

Leaving his spear on the stands, Number 800 walked down onto the stage, holding his longsword leisurely across his shoulder with one hand.

When Number 203 got onto the stage, he drew two blades and immediately charged at Number 800, eager to take him out.

'800 huh? Rumors say he's good...but those are only rumors. I'll expose him myself.'

Sticking his sword in the ground, Number 800 opened his arms wide, saying, "Come at me. You're not worthy of my sword."

Enraged by Number 800's arrogance, Number 203 fully unleashed his power, swinging his blades at his opponent as fast as he could.

Number 800 moved like a leaf in the wind, dodging every attack as if he could see it coming before it even started.

"Is dodging all you can do? Guess those rumors about you being strong were fake after all!"

Number 800's expression turned cold as he heard this!

CLANG! CLANG!

He deflected Number 203's blades with his bracers, leaving the man wide open with his weapons up in the air.

With incredible speed, Number 800 closed the gap and delivered successive arm strikes onto his opponent's body.

"Urghhh!!"

Number 203 used all of his strength to slash down at Number 800, only for the man to sidestep the attack with ease.

In the same motion, Number 800 elbowed Number 203 in the head, stunning him.

"Don't you ever..."

Sweeping Number 203 off of his feet, Number 800 jumped up and landed a spinning roundhouse kick onto his opponents chest while they were still midair, smashing their body down into the ground.

"...question my might again."

CRACK!

The grotesque sounds of shattering bones could be heard as Number 800 stomped Number 203 in the chest once again, knocking him out for good.

Or, he could be dead.

Not worried about his opponents condition, Number 800 picked up his sword and walked off the stage, knowing that he had already won.

When one of the instructors walked up to check Number 203's body, he checked his breathing, glanced at Number 800 and raised his hand, shouting, "The winner of the first match is Number 800. Number 203...has been killed."