Great Demon - Chapter 116 Part 2

Sensing her turbulent emotions, Xuanjing’s sword energy spiraled outward.

Just as the sword energy was about to touch Zhuyou, Changying struck out with her palm, forcefully suppressing the sword back into the void.

Her heart felt as though it were pierced by needles, her head splitting with pain. She had barely been holding back these dark urges, but after hearing the sword’s words, she nearly crushed Zhuyou into her embrace.

“Shut up,” she said coldly, her voice squeezed out through clenched teeth, dripping with bone-deep chill.

Zhuyou remained still, resting quietly on the clouds. Her face was pale and unadorned, as if she were a spirit woven from moonlight and mist.

Even though Xuanjing had already fallen silent, a buzzing filled her ears, and it seemed as if the devil sword’s words were still echoing. She couldn’t help but grind out another, “Shut up.”

Silence stretched around her, yet her heartbeat thundered in her ears, heavy and relentless.

Changying bent down, burying her head against Zhuyou’s neck, trying to suppress her agitation. She parted her lips slightly, gently biting onto the edge of Zhuyou’s thin collar. This silk robe was woven from Zhuyou’s own feathers, and even with her lips, she dared not exert too much force.

The pale collarbone came into view, embedded with an unbroken reverse scale—but it was riddled with cracks, on the verge of shattering.

Changying’s breath caught. Trembling, she lightly pressed her lips to it, then hastily raised a hand to examine Zhuyou’s spiritual platform.

Her hun and po souls were unsteady, on the verge of scattering entirely.

Changying hunched over, the bones of her spine jutting sharply, as if in that moment, she had suddenly aged.

In the distance, an unshakable voice rang out—the voice of the Immovable Buddha, deep and resonant, like a great bell striking beside her head.

A reverberating hum filled her mind, jolting her into sudden clarity.

Divine Venerable, the Immovable Buddha called.

Changying straightened, following the voice, though she could not see its source.

Calamity has befallen the Mortal Realm, the Buddha intoned. Why does the Divine Venerable not turn her gaze to the suffering of the Three Realms?

“The Mortal Realm has many immortals to guard it,” Changying replied coolly. “But she is in peril and has only me.”

The divine light of the Nine Heavens should be able to save her, the Buddha remarked, neither hurried nor slow.

Changying carefully adjusted Zhuyou’s collar, her expression dark. The killing intent around her nearly materialized into purple mist.

The Buddha suddenly asked, And where do you think her suffering comes from?

Changying’s brows furrowed deeply. A single thought pulled taut in her mind, making her entire body go numb. At that moment, a realization struck her—

Zhuyou’s suffering was because of her. She was the cause, and Zhuyou bore the consequence.

It was she who had insisted on bringing Zhuyou back to this tainted world. It was because of her that Zhuyou had fallen into the Endless Abyss. If not for her intentions, then Zhuyou—

No.

If not for her, Zhuyou would have never returned at all.

It felt as if she were being torn in two—one half drowning in pain, the other half consumed by madness. Her heart pounded violently, shaking her entire being.

The Buddha’s voice remained calm. The one who tied the knot must be the one to untie it. And the one who tied this knot has yet to awaken. Divine Venerable, you should descend to the Mortal Realm.

The bell’s tolls rang in her ears. In that moment, she could almost smell the faint scent of sandalwood. Her consciousness dulled for an instant, and her chaotic thoughts stilled. But the moment she looked at Zhuyou again, her mind was thrown into turmoil once more.

Changying forced herself to close her eyes, tearing her gaze away. She turned her palm over, retrieving Kunyi’s true essence from her storage. It had grown even dimmer—any further delay, and it would fade into nothingness.

She took out a brocade box containing a piece of Kunyi’s heart flesh. Extracting its divine hun soul from the essence, she repeated the ritual she had performed before, using the art of remolding the physical body.

This spell relied on the divine light of the Nine Heavens. Even when bathed in that light, it would take a thousand years to restore a body. And during that time, if the heart flesh suffered any damage, the entire process would be for naught.

Once the spell was complete, Changying sealed the object inside the brocade box. With a forceful toss, she flung it toward the Heavenly Palace. The golden light bloomed like a lotus as she coldly said, “The brocade box is yours. As for the Vermillion Phoenix… please watch over her for me.”

The Buddha gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment.

Changying turned, transforming into the Obsidian Dragon, and plunged down into the Mortal Realm.

A shroud of black clouds covered the sky, plunging everything into darkness. Though it should have been midday, candlelight had already been lit everywhere. Yet the flames did not flicker. The mortals stood frozen, as if turned into statues, their faces still twisted in terror.

Devils rampaged, wreaking havoc on all living things. Even the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord, who had descended with an army of heavenly soldiers, could not stop them.

These devils wielded foreign spiritual power from beyond the realms. With a single palm strike, they could reduce a celestial soldier to nothing but smoke.

As the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord leaped into the wind, wounds covering his entire body, a devil suddenly cleaved his long halberd in two.

He abruptly looked up and saw the creature with beastly horns atop its head, dark skin, and devil patterns covering its entire body—its ancient devil lineage unmistakable. 

“Guanshang!”

But that wasn’t Guanshang. Guanshang had long been pierced through his spiritual platform by a Vermillion Phoenix feather in the Endless Abyss. The one standing before him now was Guanchen!

Guanchen wore a mocking smile as he abruptly closed in on the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord, raising his hand to press all five fingers against his face, as if about to crush his skull.

Evil-Punisher Divine Lord flung away his broken halberd and struck at the devil with his palm, yet the attack merely sent a ripple through its chest and abdomen, as though he had slapped a cushion instead of flesh.

Guanchen’s bloodshot eyes narrowed as he gritted his teeth and said, “Guanshang? That’s a fine name. If you say I am him, then I might as well become this Devil Lord myself.”

After all, he had never openly revealed himself before—no one knew his name, nor his existence. He and Guanshang had always been indistinguishable. Now that Guanshang was gone, he would take his place as the Devil Lord!

Dark energy surged from his hand, pouring into Evil-Punisher Divine Lord’s spiritual platform, attempting to devour his divine hun soul.

Evil-Punisher Divine Lord’s eyes widened in shock—so this devil wasn’t Guanshang after all. He refused to be possessed and, with trembling hands, slowly lifted them, intending to snap his own neck.

A chilling dragon’s breath suddenly shot through the air like a shooting star, instantly freezing Guanchen’s hand into an icy white, a thick layer of frost encasing it.

Guanchen shattered the ice but was forced to withdraw his hand. As water waves rippled toward him, he grabbed Evil-Punisher Divine Lord and yanked him in front of himself as a shield.

Evil-Punisher Divine Lord looked toward the distance, where an Obsidian Dragon soared through the clouds. Its enormous form nearly blotted out the sky, and with a single lash of its tail, it dispersed the suffocating devil fog.

Despite being used as a shield, the Divine Lord showed no fear. Instead, he burst into laughter and said, “A devil will always be a devil.”

The Obsidian Dragon spewed forth a torrent of water, which coiled like a rope and tightly bound the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord. With a flick of its tail, it flung him far away.

Guanchen silently observed the Obsidian Dragon, suspended in the heavens. Though his face was identical to Guanshang’s, his mannerisms were entirely different. He sat with his legs together, chin resting on his knee—had it been Guanshang, he would have sprawled out freely, exuding an air of uninhibited arrogance.

The Obsidian Dragon surged forward, jaws widening as an icy wind gusted forth, strong enough to overturn the surrounding devils.

The water torrent suddenly reformed, coiling like a water dragon and lunging toward Guanchen.

Guanchen twisted away to evade it, his voice hoarse as he said, “Back in the Nine Heavens, I was scorched by divine light and had to flee underground. But now… we are in the Mortal Realm.”

The Obsidian Dragon’s golden eyes narrowed, and with a flick of its tail, it transformed into a tall, slender woman.

Changying’s robes billowed as she landed, her pupils still those of a dragon—cold and terrifying. “So it was you.”

She had only known that the devil in the Endless Abyss, who bore such an uncanny resemblance to Guanshang, sought to seize Kunyi’s true essence. But she had not expected—he was the very devil that had possessed Kunyi!

These devils…

Her emotions churned violently, and in her grip, Xuanjing Sword materialized.

Xuanjing, starved for blood for too long, pulsed with dark energy. The devil aura curling around its blade was nearly as potent as that of an ancient devil.

Guanchen knew well that this Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens was unlike the other celestial gods. She wielded a devil artifact, and thousands of years ago, she had ascended to godhood through slaughter. Her pale, delicate appearance was merely deceptive—she was not one to be trifled with.

In just two steps, Changying traversed a hundred feet, closing in until only a hair’s breadth separated them.

Guanchen raised his arm to counter, not a hint of fear in his eyes. He sneered coldly, “You couldn’t defeat me in the Nine Heavens. Do you think you can now, just because you’ve descended to the Mortal Realm?”

Changying remained silent. With a swing of her sword, dozens of water torrents erupted into the sky, drawing power from every river and lake.

The countless torrents surged toward the heavens, the rushing water rumbling like a dragon’s roar.

Guanchen frowned as the torrents twisted like dragons, roaring toward him. They wove together, forming an intricate web that threatened to enclose him entirely.

Raising a single hand above his head, he scoffed, “Do you not realize? The power I took from the Endless Abyss is far from exhausted.”

“And what of it?” Changying pressed her hands together. The torrents rushing from all directions suddenly sank, ready to crash down upon Guanchen.

The dozens of water streams wove into an impenetrable cage, trapping him within.

Yet Guanchen’s smirk did not waver, as if he did not take the water torrents seriously at all.

The mighty streams, heavy as dragon bodies, suddenly plummeted—only to freeze solid in an instant. Not only the water torrents drawn from rivers and lakes turned rigid with ice, but even Guanchen himself was momentarily sealed in frost.

Changying’s anger had yet to subside. Lowering her gaze toward the Mortal Realm, she saw blood mist thickly spread across the land, staining even the devil’s smoky aura red.

When their magic clashed, bursts of cold light erupted, rooftops were ripped away, the ground cracked apart, and shattered stones scattered like drifting snowflakes.

She had been ready to shatter Guanchen to dust when a sudden creaking sound reached her ears. The frozen river hanging in midair fractured, and a hand shot forth, swift as lightning, clawing toward her.

Changying dodged back with a sharp movement, but the attack still tore her robe, nearly exposing her pale chest. The loose fabric barely clung to her body.

Guanchen burst free from the ice cage—he had nearly plunged his hand into her heart!

Changying’s gaze turned icy. She lifted a hand to press against her wildly beating heart, where a single drop of Zhuyou’s heart’s blood lay.

No one would be allowed to touch it.

Guanchen emerged from the shattered ice, his eyes narrowing as he took in the way she guarded her chest. Clicking his tongue, he sneered, “Why so defensive? Did you exchange your heart’s blood with someone else?”

Changying remained silent, her expression frozen like ice. With a flick of her wrist, the towering ice river reverted to torrents, curling around the devil like countless vines.

Guanchen swung his arm to shatter the torrents, only to find them solidifying into ice blades that sliced through his wrist, nearly severing his tendons.

He summoned his dark energy, his arms circling as waves of devil aura surged toward him.

“Could it be… that it’s the one who collapsed in the Endless Abyss?”

In Changying’s eyes, a bone-deep hatred flickered. Her breath grew unsteady, and in her heart, malevolent thoughts took root, spreading wildly—threatening to consume every last corner of her being.

Guanchen let out a breathy chuckle and said, deliberately, “Is she about to die?”