Great Demon - Chapter 113 Part 2

Blood dripped slowly from Changying’s palm along her five fingers. She had a rough idea of what had happened. Yet, despite having lived for thousands of years, she couldn’t think of any technique that could use one’s essence as a vessel to channel divine power.

She asked coldly, “How did Guanshang seize the power beyond this realm?”

Kunyi flicked out her soft sword with a sharp swish, aiming directly at Changying’s face. “It only takes a simple technique,” she said.

Changying tilted her head to evade the attack, but the soft sword suddenly transformed into a golden hook, which abruptly embedded itself into Xuanqing’s shoulder.

His robe was instantly stained a vivid red. Though he furrowed his brows in pain, his previous despondency vanished, replaced by a smile as if he had just tasted honey. He turned his head toward Changying. “Her essence still remains.”

Changying’s gaze fell on his shoulder. She frowned. “Indeed.”

“If the opportunity arises, I hope Your Divinity will use that restoration technique once more,” Xuanqing said, but his words were cut off as the golden hook pulled him forward.

Changying nodded slightly but did not reply. She couldn’t be certain she could retrieve Kunyi’s essence—how could she make any promises? She saw Xuanqing reaching to grasp the golden hook and swiftly struck with her palm, severing one end of it.

A sharp clang echoed. Her wrist trembled violently.

As the hook was severed, the tip embedded in Xuanqing’s shoulder dissolved into golden light and flowed back into Kunyi’s hand.

Kunyi’s fingers twitched, and the golden hook transformed once more into a soft sword. She stepped forward with the wind, wielding the sword toward Changying’s throat. The blade slithered like a serpent, humming through the air as it cut toward her.

Changying twisted sideways, but a lock of her long hair was severed. She caught the falling strands midair and tucked them into her sleeve. She hadn’t forgotten how Zhuyou had once hidden her hair—since Zhuyou liked it, she wouldn’t waste it.

Kunyi’s sword strikes grew increasingly ruthless, each move aimed to kill. The divine power from the realm beyond surged through the hall, snapping beams and toppling pillars. Half the roof collapsed, sending dust and debris billowing into the air.

A streak of sword energy slashed across Changying’s shoulder and neck, spraying blood. She suddenly shifted into her dragon form. The main hall was far too small to contain the massive body of the Obsidian Dragon. Already weakened, the entire structure crumbled entirely.

Xuanqing was encircled by her dragon form, shielded from the falling rubble.

Amid the dust and chaos, the Obsidian Dragon raised its head and let out a resounding roar, unleashing a breath of dragon mist upon the Queen Mother of the West, who had been possessed by the devil. The breath billowed like mist and smoke, dense as drifting clouds.

Kunyi spun her soft sword, dispersing the incoming dragon breath. However, the moment the breath touched the ground, it solidified into vast sheets of black ice, rapidly creeping toward her feet. In an instant, it encased her shoes and froze half of her body.

At that moment, the Immovable Buddha slowly opened his eyes and flung out the prayer beads in his hand. The string of beads transformed into a barrier, standing between the Obsidian Dragon and Kunyi.

The Obsidian Dragon’s form shrank, shifting back into a tall and slender woman. She pressed her index finger against Xuanqing’s forehead.

Xuanqing understood and immediately shut his eyes.

Within his spiritual platform, a golden clay-like figure was infused with spiritual energy, only to suddenly dissolve into mud.

As the figure collapsed, Xuanqing’s physical body withered. Fine wrinkles spread across his skin, and his once majestic golden-and-white robe hung loosely over his frame.

His entire appearance had changed drastically, barely resembling his former self. His divine hun soul weakened to the brink of breaking, and even the flame of fate on his shoulder flickered smaller and smaller, nearly extinguished.

Kunyi’s eyes widened, her own body aging in response. She let out a hoarse laugh. “Too bad. You’re one step too late.”

With that, she calmly split her consciousness. Thousands of strands of her consciousness spread in all directions, enveloping the entire Heavenly Palace. Wherever her consciousness reached, a devil gate formed.

However, these devil gates only lasted for a single breath before vanishing—Kunyi’s body could no longer sustain them.

A wisp of devil mist shot out from her spiritual platform and plunged underground, disappearing without a trace.

Xuanqing’s flames of fate were visible to all the gathered immortals—a sign of imminent death. It meant his spiritual manifestation was entirely lost; otherwise, no one would have been able to see his fate fire.

A dull thud sounded as Kunyi’s body collapsed to the ground. Her once-lustrous skin turned waxen in an instant, and her fingertips, already showing exposed bone, rapidly withered.

Changying stepped forward abruptly, bent down, and thrust her hand into Kunyi’s chest. Her five fingers, as sharp as blades, tore open her ribcage.

“Your Divinity!” a celestial shouted from outside the hall.

Changying lowered her head, her gaze fixed on Kunyi’s body, her expression utterly indifferent. She did not respond.

Blood gushed from Kunyi’s chest. With her essence gone, her eyes remained shut—she couldn’t even cry out in pain.

Changying clenched her fingers and suddenly pulled her hand out, holding between them a piece of raw, crimson flesh—the flesh of the heart.

She said nothing, merely flipped her palm and produced a wooden box, swiftly placing the heart flesh inside. With a flick of her wrist, she sealed the box and stored it away in a mustard seed pouch.

Kunyi’s body continued to collapse—at first, only her fingertips were reduced to bone, but soon, her entire hand turned stark white. In the end, her whole body transformed into a skeleton.

She had been possessed in silence. Now, she faded into bones just as soundlessly.

“Seal the celestial gates. Leave the Heavenly Palace to me,” Changying ordered sternly.

The assembled immortals outside the ruined hall tore their gazes away from the bones, suppressing their grief as they hurried toward the celestial gates.

Changying pressed her hand against Xuanqing’s crown, stabilizing his nearly-dispersed hun soul and po soul.

Xuanqing weakly opened his eyes, his eyelids unbearably heavy. He moved his lips tiredly and asked, “Many thanks, Your Divinity. Kunyi, she…”

“If I can find her essence in the Endless Abyss, I will let you meet her,” Changying said sternly.

Xuanqing closed his eyes again and gave a faint nod with great difficulty. “I trouble Your Divinity.”

Changying said indifferently, “I need to cut out a piece of your heart.”

“Do as you wish.” Now that Xuanqing’s spirit form was destroyed, his mortal-like body could no longer withstand the divine radiance of the Nine Heavens. His entire being burned as if set aflame, and even his breathing turned labored.

Changying’s face remained expressionless. She fixed her gaze on Xuanqing for a moment before uttering, somewhat unusually, “Excuse me.” Then, her slender fingers pierced through Xuanqing’s robes, cutting into his chest like sharp blades.

Blood gushed forth, dyeing half of Xuanqing’s body red.

His throat moved as if he wanted to cough, but when he opened his mouth, only blood flowed out. His eyes lost their light.

The Immovable Buddha retrieved his prayer beads, rolling them between his fingers as he silently recited Buddhist scriptures. With his eyes tightly shut, he neither saw the blood-soaked scene nor seemed to smell the overwhelming scent of blood, as though detached from it all.

Changying closed her fingers and withdrew her hand from Xuanqing’s chest. Her palm remained pristine white—except for a single inch of red held between two fingers.

It was a piece of Xuanqing’s heart.

The life flames on Xuanqing’s shoulders were instantly extinguished. At that moment, the barrier suspended above the Nine Heavens collapsed, and the Heavenly Dao he had built crumbled. The radiant glow of the Nine Heavens suddenly vanished, as if a lamp had been snuffed out.

Not just the Nine Heavens—even the demons and devils sensed the shift. With the collapse of the Heavenly Dao, the oppressive force that had bound them dissipated, as if all restraints had been lifted.

Had the Heavenly Emperor fallen?

The immortals and deities of the Nine Heavens were stunned, grief spreading across their faces.

Changying raised a finger to Xuanqing’s forehead and extracted the three hun souls and seven po souls she had previously sealed within his spirit platform.

The hun and po souls struggled frantically in her grasp, attempting to scatter in all directions.

Her expression remained cold as she forcibly merged them into the piece of heart she held. Then, her pale lips moved in silent incantation.

After chanting for a while, Changying expressionlessly drew a cut on her middle finger. Dragon blood slowly seeped out. She lifted her hand, drawing a rune in midair, its light a vivid red.

In an instant, she pressed the rune onto the heart flesh. The script sank into the tissue, leaving no visible trace.

She then channeled her spiritual power, encasing the inch of red completely in a glowing blue aura. Once the spell was complete, she turned toward the Immovable Buddha, who still rolled his prayer beads, and said calmly, “This will be entrusted to you.”

The Immovable Buddha opened his eyes and slowly extended his broad hand. “Give it to me.”

Changying cradled the heart, now infused with Xuanqing’s three hun souls and seven po souls, and carefully placed it in his palm. The small piece of flesh barely filled half of his hand.

The Immovable Buddha closed his fingers over it and nodded. “Divine Venerable, rest assured.”

Changying twisted the hand that hung at her side, and the blood on her fingertips instantly turned into red mist, which was carried away by the wind.

She stepped out of the main hall and looked up at the dim sky. Suddenly, she transformed into an Obsidian Dragon and soared into the air.

The Obsidian Dragon spread its fangs and claws. Its dark scales shimmered with iridescent hues under the dim divine light—but beneath its jaw, a single scale was missing. That should have been where the reverse scale lay.

The immortals and gods guarding the four celestial gates all lifted their heads. They could easily see the Obsidian Dragon suspended in the sky. It let out a long, resounding roar, its dragon cry piercing through the clouds, its immense power sweeping across the Three Realms.

***

The moment Xuanqing perished, the Three Realms trembled. Even Hanzhu and Huoshu, who were in the human world, felt the disturbance.

While the Heavenly Dao had still existed, demons and devils had been suppressed by the Nine Heavens. Now that the oppressive force was gone, their shoulders suddenly felt unburdened.

Hanzhu abruptly looked up, but no joy surfaced in her heart. She knew exactly what her mistress was doing. To outsiders, it seemed as though she was aiding the Devil Lord—but that wasn’t the case. Who was she truly aiding? It was clearly the Nine Heavens’ Obsidian Dragon!

But how… how had the Heavenly Emperor fallen?

Unease gripped Hanzhu’s heart. Something must have happened in the Nine Heavens. The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. She had no idea what Zhuyou was doing now.

Huoshu let out a deep sigh, gazing in disbelief at the sky. She watched as the vibrant celestial glow suddenly dimmed, while violent devil winds howled, shaking the earth as though something was about to emerge from below.

She quickly averted her gaze and stared at the muddy ground beneath her feet. In a daze, she muttered, “Could something really be coming out?”

The wind howled, lifting sand and stones into the air. The devilish aura surged from underground, shooting straight into the sky. Darkness spread over the Mortal Realm, blurring the boundary between day and night. Frightened mortals stopped in their tracks, hurriedly packing up their stalls and rushing to take shelter under eaves, believing a storm was approaching.

But what came was no rain—it was demons and devils.

Huoshu grabbed Hanzhu’s arm in a panic. “Go! Stop staring at the dragon vein. If we stay here any longer, something bad will happen.”

Hanzhu stumbled as she was pulled along, panting. “What’s happening?”

“It looks like something major happened in the Nine Heavens. The Devil Lord wouldn’t just focus on small gains and lose sight of the bigger picture—he probably wants to claim the Mortal Realm as well. There might be countless devils hidden beneath this dragon vein,” Huoshu said gravely.

As soon as she finished speaking, the ground suddenly cracked open. A horde of demon soldiers and devil generals emerged, their ominous energy surging into the sky. The devilish aura grew thicker and more terrifying, shrouding everything in darkness until even the path ahead became indistinct.

Huoshu crouched down, dragging Hanzhu into a thicket, lowering her voice in shock. “Has the Nine Heavens really lost control over the Mortal Realm?”

Hanzhu said nothing. She fixed her gaze on the Nine Heavens, where a streak of multicolored light sliced through the dark mist. Immortal Piaomiao and Immortal Zhiying had arrived, leading a group of rogue immortals.

Suddenly, she seemed to hear a dragon’s cry—distant, yet overwhelming. The moment it reached her ears, her whole body stiffened, as if the weight of Mount Tai had pressed down upon her, suppressing her completely.

It was the Obsidian Dragon.

After the Heavenly Emperor’s death, the Obsidian Dragon had released its might, subduing the Three Realms with its power alone.

Hanzhu let out a breath of relief, thinking that luckily, Changying stood with Zhuyou. And fortunately, Zhuyou and she were of one mind.

Huoshu trembled under the dragon’s pressure and coughed up blood. Yet, instead of despair, her expression softened. She relaxed her furrowed brows and murmured, “The Nine Heavens has not fallen. I did not put my trust in the wrong people. Your mistress and the Nine Heavens’ Obsidian Dragon… are both formidable.”

***

Meanwhile, within the devil gate in the Endless Abyss, Zhuyou remained unaware of the Heavenly Emperor’s demise. The devil gate was beyond the reach of the Nine Heavens, untouched by its suppression—thus, she could not perceive the exact moment Xuanqing’s might had vanished.

She continued forward until the sound of footsteps behind her suddenly stopped. Turning back, she saw that Guanshang had halted.

Guanshang’s face was ashen, his expression thunderous with fury.