Great Demon - Chapter 76 Part 1

As if a dense fog had suddenly lifted, the profound radiance reappeared, yet the immortals still seemed lost in a dream.

The entire world was shrouded in deathly silence, as though the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord, Immortal Zhiying, and the celestial soldiers were no different from ordinary mortals—frozen in place just like them.

Their expressions were filled with alarm. After a long moment, they turned their heads to take in the raging inferno around them. The fire burned ferociously, reducing the entire inn to little more than a skeletal frame, and even the distant sky was dyed red by the flames.

The mortals inside the inn lay sprawled in the fire, their bodies twisted in disarray. Thick black smoke billowed upward with a thunderous roar, yet their expressions remained unchanged, utterly unaware that they were on the brink of death.

Immortal Zhiying suddenly snapped back to her senses, her palm now bleeding from where she had dug her nails into it. Her eyes flickered with deep sorrow—not just from recalling the events on the Execution Platform, but also from the sight of Zhuyou, who had been driven to fall into devilhood, now trapped in endless calamity.

She soared out of the sea of flames, her robes billowing behind her. With a flick of her sleeve, a fierce wind carrying the scent of rain surged forward, trying to quell the flames that only grew fiercer.

Yet how could phoenix fire be so easily extinguished? Water could not douse it, and even the wind could not stir it in the slightest!

A few mortals lay as they had before, their faces still carrying faint smiles. Who could have imagined that they had already stepped one foot into the gates of death, only a breath away from drinking Meng Po’s soup in the afterlife?

Immortal Zhiying thought of how everyone had stood idly by on the Execution Platform, how they had all sided with Jingyi, and her heart twisted in agony. She hated herself for not stepping forward. She had felt this same sorrow back then—so why had she not spoken out in Zhuyou’s defense?

She wished desperately to reenter the Turbid Mirror and twist the past into an entirely different shape. But she… she couldn’t.

The figure that so often woke her from nightmares now stood amidst the blazing fire, seeming just as if she had awoken from a dream. On the day Zhuyou had fallen into devilhood, she had been full of violent rage. Today, that fury had turned into deep, aching sorrow.

Zhuyou slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes reflecting the vivid scarlet flames, as though soaked in blood. She let out a soft, mocking chuckle. “I assume no one has anything to say.”

Immortal Zhiying pressed her lips together. For a moment, she wasn’t even sure who she was truly opposing.

“Look, the mortals are about to die.” Zhuyou raised a slender hand, her pale fingers pointing toward the mortals who were nearly engulfed by the flames.

It was she who had ignited this fire, yet her face held nothing but disinterest, as if she barely cared. Her innocent eyes lifted ever so lazily.

“Divine Venerable!” Immortal Zhiying called out urgently, seeing that the mortals were on the verge of being swallowed by the fire.

Changying cast a deep look at Zhuyou before transforming into a dragon, her massive body crashing through the burning beams of the inn. Such a small building could never contain her vast form. Fire-laden splinters scattered in all directions, bursting like an exploding fireball.

With a deafening roar, the dragon soared into the wind and spat out a torrent of water. The surge struck the inn so violently that it nearly collapsed entirely.

Yet the great fire remained unextinguished. Instead, it illuminated the water with an eerie crimson glow, as though the very flood had been dyed in blood.

The raging phoenix fire crackled and hissed even within the rushing waves. When the tide carried it forward, it spread further, leaping onto the nearby buildings in the marketplace.

Wherever the phoenix fire touched, it clung like creeping vines, climbing up wooden pillars and spiraling high into the sky.

Water splashed wildly, surging from one end of the long street to the other, like a flood raging uncontrollably. Towering green trees were uprooted, corridors collapsed, and houses crumbled.

Then, suddenly, the great flood froze into crystalline ice. The phoenix fire trapped within it shattered with a sharp crack, breaking into glimmering shards.

The fire was extinguished.

The Obsidian Dragon, which had been suspended in midair, slowly descended to the ground. In an instant, it transformed into a slender woman. Her long, jet-black hair was unbound, and the golden bead on her forehead trembled slightly.

Zhuyou remained still, her gaze shifting toward Jingyi, whose entire body was trembling and whose eyes were frozen with terror. Zhuyou’s innocent eyes narrowed slightly, and in that instant, her gaze turned icy and piercing.

She ought to hate her. And yet, after two hundred years of living as a devil, even if rage still burned within her, she no longer wished to reclaim everything she had lost.

However, the suffering she had endured—how could that ever be so easily forgiven? What was lost was beyond recovery, but the countless agonies she had tasted—those, she would make sure to return one by one.

Jingyi could no longer speak. Her lips quivered uncontrollably, and suddenly, she clapped her hands over her ears, as though voices were still whispering incessantly beside her.

“It wasn’t me—it wasn’t me!”

Zhuyou let out a cold laugh. Without hesitation, she reached out to seize Jingyi, unconcerned about how the surrounding immortals viewed her.

She had already fallen into devilhood—why should she care about anyone else’s judgment?

Mangfeng, who had followed into the Turbid Mirror, was still frozen in shock. Disbelief filled his face as he looked at his wife, and then—overcome with hesitation—he took a step back.

Jingyi, seeing Zhuyou approaching, desperately reached for the hem of Mangfeng’s robe, but her fingers closed around empty air. She clenched her hand into a fist. The devilish whispers in her ears roared, pressing down on her, forcing her to listen.

“I-I’ll return the Burning-Heart Wood to you! Just don’t kill me—please, don’t kill me!”

Zhuyou loomed over her, her slender fingers closing tightly around Jingyi’s fragile neck. She let out a soft chuckle. “Do you think I’m missing just a piece of Burning-Heart Wood?”

Jingyi squeezed her eyes shut, her eyeballs rolling anxiously beneath her lids.

“The things I suffered for two hundred years—can a single piece of Burning-Heart Wood make up for all of it?” Zhuyou’s tone was slow and deliberate. Though she was pressing Jingyi for an answer, her voice remained gentle and drawn-out, like a dull blade slowly sharpening itself against Jingyi’s heart.

Jingyi wanted to shake her head, but with Zhuyou’s grip on her throat, even the slightest movement felt like suffocation.

“You really have some nerve. I searched for you all this time, and you’ve been hiding here.” Zhuyou’s voice was quiet and measured.

A sudden clap of thunder cracked the sky apart.

Changying furrowed her brows sharply. She had not intended to intervene, but upon hearing the thunder, she abruptly released a surge of spiritual power, striking directly at Zhuyou.

Zhuyou instantly let go, retreating a full ten feet before letting out a soft scoff. “You would protect her?”

Changying shook her head, tilting her face upward to the sky. “Heavenly thunder.”

From all directions, dark clouds rolled in, swallowing the once-clear sky without leaving the slightest gap.

Lightning flashed, and thunder roared, forming a divine radiance that split through the heavens.

The moment the divine light broke through the clouds, the human world was scorched with unbearable heat. The previously dim sky was suddenly illuminated by a blinding glow.

Zhuyou quickly raised her hand to shield herself from the descending divine radiance—only to realize that the heavenly thunder was not aimed at her.

Instead… it struck directly toward Jingyi, who trembled violently as she clutched her ears.

Jingyi was struck directly by the heavenly thunder. Blood immediately poured from her seven orifices—ears, nose, and eyes, all soaked in crimson. She swayed unsteadily, trembling uncontrollably. Seeing Mangfeng take several steps back, she trembled even more, but no tears appeared in her eyes. Instead, she quivered her lips and asked, “You believed it too? Why do you believe it too?”

Mangfeng’s eyes were full of astonishment as he countered, “Did you truly go to Shenhua Mountain? Did you really pass through the devil gate? Did you actually steal the Burning-Heart Wood and slander the divine maiden, the Red Phoenix?”

The Evil-Punisher Divine Lord, who had been drawn into the Turbid Mirror, along with the hundreds of celestial soldiers present, silently questioned the same thing. They hadn’t expected Mangfeng to voice it first.

Mangfeng’s words were not false. Two hundred years ago, when Zhuyou was still in the Nine Heavens, she had been bestowed the title of “Red Phoenix.” Among the Phoenix Clan, she was the only one worthy of that title. Had that great upheaval never happened, she might not only have remained a divine maiden but would have ascended as the Phoenix Lord, capable of commanding all avian beings on behalf of Yunshuo. With just a single glance, she could have made them follow her without hesitation.

A Phoenix Lord ruled over the peace and prosperity of the Three Realms, yet fate had her fall into the devil’s path atop the Immortal Execution Platform. Stepping into the devil gate meant eternal damnation, never to return.

Zhuyou remained silent. She lifted her head and gazed skyward, where white lightning streaked across the dark clouds, poised to strike again. Without hesitation, she raised her right palm, quickly gathering spiritual power in her grasp, intending to use it to end Jingyi’s life.

Changying swiftly sent out a thread of spiritual energy, binding Zhuyou’s wrist like a silver-white silk ribbon. She said calmly, “Don’t you often go to the teahouses to listen to storytelling? This story isn’t finished yet—why not wait a little longer?”

Zhuyou did not retract her spiritual energy. Her gaze was deep and unwavering as she replied, “It has indeed been a long time since I last heard your storytelling. A hundred years have passed; you should have improved.”

Seeing that Zhuyou did not outright reject her, Changying withdrew the silver-white spiritual thread.

Not far away, Jingyi clutched both ears tightly, shaking her head violently. “I’ve never entered Shenhua Mountain! I’ve never seen any devil gate! I never slandered her! It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me!” Her eyes were unfocused, and suddenly, she whipped her gaze backward—but behind her, there was no one. “It was you who clouded my mind! You led me astray, step by step! Where are you hiding? Come out and face your death!”

“It was you. No one has ever clouded your mind. The one leading you astray at every step was your own devil hun soul and devil thoughts.” Changying lifted her golden eyes, and every word struck like a blade to the heart.

At these words, the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord brandished his halberd, pointing it directly at Jingyi, draped in her crimson robes.

Zhuyou understood everything now. She let out a soft scoff. When she was bathed in fire two hundred years ago, her eyes were poisoned—the toxic mist that seeped into her sight had formed from Jingyi’s blood burning in the flames.

Such an ability could only belong to the ancient Devil Clan. In the Three Realms, those whose po soul and hun soul bore the mark of an ancient devil could only be the Devil Lord, Guanshang.

She had long known that Guanshang possessed ways to deceive the Heavenly Dao, but she had not expected him to evade divine scrutiny and be reborn in the Heavenly Realm, dragging her into this plight.

In her palm, a cluster of crimson phoenix fire ignited, wrapped in a spiritual aura as blue as the starry sky. At this moment, more than ever, she wanted Guanshang’s life—to leave his hun soul nowhere to escape, to force it to linger in her grasp, barely clinging to existence.

Even though taking his life wouldn’t quell the rage in her heart, she still wanted to do it.

Jingyi muttered to herself, “When I was young, my mind was incomplete. I followed Zhuyou everywhere on a whim. I never intended to shift the blame onto her from the very beginning… I-I…”

She turned her gaze to Zhuyou, but in that instant, a burst of crimson phoenix fire shot into her eyes before she could react.

Jingyi recoiled as if she had seen a vengeful ghost, turning to flee. But before she could take a step, another heavenly thunder crashed down, leaving her dazed and disoriented.

I’ve finally found you. A flood of emotions surged in Zhuyou’s heart. In an instant, she transformed the phoenix fire in her hand into a crimson longbow. The blood-red feathered arrow was nocked against the string, and with a sharp twang, it tore through the air like a zither string snapping.

Changying immediately raised her arm to intercept it. Her palm seared with pain, flesh blurred by the fire’s heat, matching the burning glow of the arrow’s flames. She made no sound of complaint, merely condensed her spiritual energy, freezing the feathered arrow into frost before casually tossing it aside.

Using her index finger as a brush, she drew a barrier in midair, sealing Zhuyou on the other side.

Zhuyou halted abruptly, her silver hair flowing wildly as she glared at the black-haired, dark-robed dragon before her. The fury in her eyes was impossible to conceal.

Changying, however, offered no explanation. Instead, she tilted her head to the sky and said coldly, “This woman is my disciple. It is my right to carry out her punishment.”

The heavy clouds above did not disperse. A deafening rumble echoed, yet no lightning flashed, as if acknowledging her words.