Novice_writer2

Reincarnated in the land of Murim, Jin Taeho awakens in the body of the youngest son of the Moon Sect's leader, a weak and discarded soul who once took his own life. But Taeho is no ordinary man—he is the reincarnation of the sect's first and most feared leader, a ruler who forged the cult’s dark legacy with blood and power.

With the ultimate demonic techniques and the legendary sword that only the founder can wield, Taeho rises from the ashes of his former self. His past life’s memories flood him, and with them, a thirst for power and a burning desire to reclaim what was lost. The girl who once rejected the previous owner of his body for his weakness, and his elder brother who now holds the title of heir—none of them matter to Taeho. His true goal is to ascend to the throne of the Moon Sect and reshape its future in his image.

With no one aware of his true identity, Taeho begins to rise through the ranks in silence. He will play the weak son, bide his time, and wait for the moment when his dark power will be fully unleashed. The Moon Sect has no idea that the first cult leader has returned to claim his legacy.

Legacy Of The First Demonic Cult Leader

Taeho stood in the shadow of the Moon Sect's main hall, gazing at the massive stone doors that led to the inner sanctum. His eyes, cold and unblinking, reflected nothing but silent determination. The sect was still the same an ancient, crumbling temple of power steeped in forbidden rites, blood rituals, and darkness. But it was now under the control of his elder brother, Moon Jiwon, and the elders who bent the sect's power to their whims.

Taeho had learned all this in the few hours since his rebirth. His memories of his past life, his time as the first cult leader, were overwhelming, but they were slowly coming into focus. This sect his sect was a shadow of what it once was. A sect of power, fear, and unchallenged dominance. But now, it was fractured, controlled by those too weak to realize its true potential. His brother, Jiwon, had become a puppet, a figurehead chosen to lead only because of his strength. But Jiwon was nothing compared to Taeho's true power. Nothing compared to the founder of the Moon Sect.

He walked across the courtyard, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the stillness. The cold wind ruffled his dark hair, but it did nothing to stir the emptiness inside him. This was not a place for weakness. It was a place where demons thrived, and Taeho was no longer a mere mortal. He was the reborn soul of a demon, the first cult leader, and soon, all would know his power.

As he approached the training grounds, his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. A young disciple, barely in his twenties, was practicing with a wooden sword, his movements stiff and awkward. Taeho studied him for a moment, noting his lack of technique and form. Weak.

The disciple was unaware of Taeho's presence as he swung his sword in clumsy arcs. His breathing was shallow, his posture poor. Taeho could sense the pitiful strength in the boy's heart he was nothing more than a pawn in the game of power, destined to remain at the bottom forever. The sect had filled its ranks with the weak and the desperate, those who clung to whatever power they could grasp.

Taeho moved silently, his footsteps light as he approached the disciple. The boy's sword came down in a slow, wide arc, and Taeho struck, faster than the disciple could react. With a single swipe of his hand, Taeho disarmed him, sending the wooden sword clattering across the stone floor. The disciple stumbled backward, wide-eyed in shock.

"You are weak," Taeho said softly, his voice cold and commanding.

The disciple's face paled. "I-I... I didn't mean to"

Taeho held up a hand to silence him, his dark gaze locking onto the boy's terrified eyes. "You don't belong here, not yet. But perhaps you can be useful."

The disciple's confusion deepened, but before he could speak, Taeho grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground. "The sect is built on blood and strength," Taeho whispered, his voice a dark promise. "You can either be crushed by it, or you can rise to become something greater. Something far more dangerous."

The disciple's breath caught in his throat as Taeho released him, letting him fall to the ground with a thud. "Train harder. Grow stronger. And if you survive, perhaps you'll have a place in my world."

With that, Taeho turned on his heel and walked away. The disciple remained on the ground, trembling, unsure of what had just happened.

Taeho's gaze returned to the horizon. The time was coming when his presence would be felt throughout the sect. The elders, the disciples, his brother they all thought of him as a weakling. But in time, they would understand the true meaning of power.

He was the first cult leader, reborn in a new body, and he would carve his name into the annals of history once more. The world would tremble at his feet.

The Seeds of Power