Great Demon - Chapter 79 Part 2

“Heavenly Emperor need not blame yourself. The Devil Lord concealed himself from the Heavenly Dao and was reborn within the Phoenix Clan. This must be closely connected to the strange occurrences in Shangxi City. If he has the ability to deceive the Heavenly Dao, then framing the ancient gods would not be difficult for him,” Changying spoke calmly.

“But I… I made mistake after mistake,” Xuanqing said in a heavy tone.

“The Heavenly Dao itself made this mistake. Why should the Heavenly Emperor hold yourself responsible?” Changying added.

“One wrong step led to another—a mistake beyond redemption.” Xuanqing sighed deeply. He reached for the jade cup filled with celestial dew, but his hand trembled. Not only did the celestial dew spill out, but the jade cup also fell to the ground, shattering into fragments.

“It seems the Devil Lord had planned this all along. Otherwise, how could he have so easily led the immortals astray?” Changying turned her gaze toward Mangfeng and said coolly, “Mangfeng is stubborn and refuses to see the truth. Since he is my disciple, it falls to me to punish him.”

Changying glanced at Mangfeng and said, “Mangfeng’s obstinacy and folly, being one of my disciples, are matters for me to address.”

East Sea Monarch, standing to the side, shut his eyes tightly. What he had initially thought to be a blessing had nearly plunged the East Sea into disaster. He quickly bowed and said, “Your Divinity may handle the matter as you see fit.”

“Mangfeng’s heart is simple, making him easily swayed by devilish influence. Let him undergo ten cycles of mortal reincarnation. Only after he has endured the hundred sufferings of the human world may he return to the heavens,” Changying said without emotion, as if a thousand years were nothing but a flick of the finger.

East Sea Monarch raised his head in shock. Mangfeng was supposed to inherit his title in fifty years—what would become of the East Sea after a thousand years? He lowered his head in dismay. “I thank Your Divinity for your guidance.”

Mangfeng pressed his forehead to the ground and murmured, “But how could the Heavenly Dao be wrong? How could Jingyi possibly be—”

Before he could finish his words, Changying cast a cold glance his way, cutting him off. “The Heavenly Dao is heartless—how could it distinguish right from wrong?” she said.

“Then are you, Divine Venerable, cold-hearted as well?” Mangfeng suddenly raised his head, his face filled with doubt and resentment.

His words struck like arrows, piercing Changying’s heart until it felt riddled with wounds. She stood speechless for a long moment before responding coldly, “I am not.”

It was as if she wanted to engrave those words onto her heart—or perhaps, to speak them to the blood pulsing within it. In her mind, she repeated them again: I am not.

The Evil-Punisher Divine Lord, who had been silently observing from the side, stepped forward and asked, “Since the Turbid Mirror can trace back to the past, could it be used to reverse our current predicament?”

Kunyi shook her head with a bitter smile. “Everyone thinks the Turbid Mirror can change the past, but it is merely a mirror that reflects the five aggregates of existence. Even if you alter events temporarily, everything will eventually follow its predetermined path and return to its original state. For the Three Realms, the Nine Heavens represent the Heavenly Dao—but what, then, is the Heavenly Dao to the Nine Heavens?”

The Evil-Punisher Divine Lord remained silent.

“It is beyond the realms,” Kunyi said softly. “Thus, no matter how great our divine powers may be, we cannot oppose the Heavenly Dao beyond the realms. Since we cannot reverse it, we must meet each crisis as it comes.” After a brief pause, she continued, “Since the Nine Heavens are at fault, it is only right that Divine Venerable should decide how to proceed.”

Changying’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly. She spoke evenly, “I will go to Shangxi City once more to uncover the mysteries there. If the city truly has become a devil’s den, the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord must sever it from this realm.”

Xuanqing frowned. “But—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Changying cut him off with a cold voice. “It cannot be forced.”

“Your Divinity sees clearly,” Xuanqing could only nod in agreement. He steadied himself and, seeing Mangfeng’s clenched fists and unwilling expression, spoke coldly, “As the Divine Venerable has decreed, let this child enter ten cycles of reincarnation. Only after he has endured the Seven Mortal Sufferings may he return to the heavens. Take him to the Path of Reincarnation.”

The heavenly soldiers standing by the red pillars immediately responded, dragging Mangfeng—still prostrate—out of the hall.

Mangfeng looked utterly wretched, lacking any trace of the dignity expected of an immortal. Yet, he offered no further protest.

Changying turned her gaze back to Xuanqing and said, “The Phoenix Clan is still unaware of these matters. You must know who truly deserves punishment. I trust the Heavenly Emperor will summon the phoenixes’ sovereign and explain everything in detail.”

“Naturally,” Xuanqing replied gently. “Although Zhuyou has fallen into the devil’s domain, the stains of her past from two hundred years ago must be wiped clean.”

Changying inclined her head slightly and, in the blink of an eye, stepped out of the hall. Her figure flickered like a flash of lightning, too swift to be seen clearly.

***

Meanwhile, Shangxi City bustled with noise and chaos. Demons and devils—unruly yet unwilling to stir up too much trouble—had gathered there to eke out a living.

The city itself had not changed. The streets teemed with activity, filled with gambling houses and establishments of vice.

Changying had not changed her appearance. Her cold and austere demeanor clashed starkly with the city’s bawdy atmosphere, making people unable to resist glancing at her. Yet, the moment they did, their eyes burned as if scorched by fire.

She had suppressed her spiritual power, not making too blatant a display. Strolling leisurely through the city, she found nothing unusual, but she certainly attracted plenty of attention.

This place did not seem to conceal any mysterious realm. Although devil and demon energy lingered in the city, none bore any resemblance to Zhuyou.

She could not sense Zhuyou’s presence at all. The calm she had forced upon herself scattered into disorder—was Zhuyou still in her original form, or had she yet to recover it?

The Zhuyou she sought… was indeed in Shangxi City. The difference was that while Changying moved aboveground, Zhuyou concealed herself within the Endless Abyss.

After leaving the sand city, Zhuyou felt the strand of hun soul in her hand stir restlessly. It had been bound by Changying’s restrictions, rendering it incapable of speech.

When she removed the restriction, the hun soul immediately began chattering incessantly in her ear, as though it had grown a mouth.

The voice seemed to alternate between Jingyi’s and that of the Devil Lord Guanshang, their tones mingling seamlessly, even their auras perfectly aligned.

“Go to Shangxi City. I know you are on the verge of breaking through and searching for a method to evade the Heavenly Dao. Of the Three Realms, only I can help you.”

Zhuyou halted, clutching the hun soul tightly in her hand. “You are in my grasp now.”

“Indeed. With my hun soul in your hand, I would not dare deceive you,” the two voices replied in unison.

“Don’t be so hasty,” Zhuyou murmured, half-scolding.

Since the growth of countless spiritual threads in her sea of consciousness, she had not fully recovered her memories. Still, she did recall the method to conceal her aura. Immediately, she severed the connection to her heart’s blood, cloaking both her form and her presence—an existence drifting beyond the Three Realms.

She lingered nearby, calmly restoring herself without any intention of moving hastily.

“Why are you not anxious?” Guanshang’s voice pressed again.

“If I delay, do you not think they will suspect Shangxi City?” Zhuyou sneered.

Only then did Guanshang fall silent.

Despite the time passing, the discomfort in Zhuyou’s body did not lessen. She tilted her head to gaze skyward, fearing that heavenly thunder might strike at any moment.

The spiritual threads in her sea of consciousness continued to grow, burning with an unbearable heat as if something were on the verge of emerging. Yet the memories were chaotic and disjointed—like a torrential flood—clogging her mind with relentless pain.

After a brief period of recovery, she calculated the timing to be just right. Turning her body, she darted toward Shangxi City.

Her consciousness was already hazy, but the cold seeping from that piece of dragon scale in her sea of consciousness anchored her back to clarity.

It felt as though her spiritual core had expanded, and the blackened imprint left by the contamination began to flake away like dust. For every fragment that fell, a sliver of dazzling firelight emerged.

Her bones ached intensely, as though some transformation was unfolding within her true form.

“You had best not be lying to me,” Zhuyou said, her clenched teeth easing slightly, her tone unhurried.

“I would not dare,” Guanshang responded, equally composed. “You will have your wish.”

Disguising her appearance, Zhuyou entered Shangxi City. The noise assaulted her senses, threatening to disrupt her focus. She pressed a hand to her chest, urging the drop of heart’s blood to release a wave of cold that steadied her mind.

The dragon scale in her spiritual sea continued to emit a faint chill, causing her to shiver involuntarily before regaining her composure.

“A thousand years ago, where did you hide those legions of devil soldiers?” Zhuyou asked coldly.

“I call that place the Endless Abyss,” Guanshang replied at her ear. “It is a realm of pure chaos, akin to a forgotten corner of the ancient world abandoned by the gods. The abyss is vast—I have yet to find its boundary. But I suspect that at its furthest edge lies the heavens beyond the realms.”

Zhuyou paused for a moment. “The heavens beyond the realms?”

“The gate to the Endless Abyss is born from filth and corruption. Within, it is free from the disturbances of heavenly thunder or earth’s fires. You may safely break through there,” Guanshang answered languidly.

“Then tell me how to reach this place.” Zhuyou’s gaze darkened.

“Where the five skandhas and seven sufferings converge within Shangxi City, you will find the entrance,” Guanshang said.

Zhuyou’s long hair veiled most of her face. As she stepped into a brothel, she lifted her eyes—clear and innocent—like the moon hanging bright and unsullied over the human world.

A snake demon draped in sheer silk glanced up and seemed momentarily stunned. In the hundred years she had worked this place, she had never seen someone so breathtakingly beautiful.

The snake demon immediately approached, her eyes half-lidded and voice dripping with charm. “Miss, are you here for some fun?”

“Tell her you want her,” Guanshang urged in Zhuyou’s ear.

Zhuyou fell silent for a long while—she could not bring herself to utter such words. After a pause, she finally murmured, “You do it.”

The snake demon’s smile widened as she leaned in, intending to wrap herself around Zhuyou’s arm—only to be deftly evaded. Still, she did not press the matter, reasoning that such an ethereal beauty would be a delight to simply converse with.

She hurriedly gestured for Zhuyou to follow, leading her toward the rear courtyard. Behind the brothel lay a scene of unrestrained debauchery—bare bodies tangled together, with moans and cries filling the air.

“Release me for a moment, and I will not try to escape,” Guanshang murmured beside her ear.

The snake demon turned back at that moment, her crimson lips parting as she asked, “Miss, you’re a new face—where are you from?”

Zhuyou did not answer. Her hands tightened around the hun soul, ensuring Guanshang had no opportunity to break free.

The moment Guanshang’s hun soul slipped into the snake demon’s trembling lips, the demon’s entire body stiffened and trembled uncontrollably. Her pupils suddenly dilated, and before her hun soul or po soul could escape, she disintegrated into dust—shattering like broken porcelain and falling to the ground.

No bones remained, no trace of black hair was left behind, and even the thin gauze robe she wore dissolved into dirt, scattering into nothingness with the wind.

Zhuyou’s gaze darkened as she realized, to her astonishment, that the snake demon had utterly vanished without leaving behind even a fragment of her hun soul or po soul—erased entirely from existence.

From the dust, Guanshang’s hun soul emerged, abruptly splitting open a concealed rift. “Follow me!”

Zhuyou stepped through the crack and was immediately engulfed by darkness. When she turned back, the brothel was nowhere to be seen. Raising her hand, she ignited a flicker of phoenix fire in her palm.

Yet, even the light of the phoenix fire proved useless—no matter how brightly it burned, it failed to illuminate anything. Around her was an endless void, as if she stood in the heart of an eternal night.

No sky above, no ground below—only endless, chaotic darkness.

“This place…” She frowned.

“This is the Endless Abyss.” Guanshang’s hun soul drifted slowly before her.

“Why did the snake demon disappear without a trace?” Zhuyou’s frown deepened.

“When demons or devils die, their souls enter the cycle of reincarnation. But I once discovered that if a being is utterly annihilated, they can become a key to enter the Endless Abyss,” Guanshang explained.

“If that’s true, countless souls have been erased—are you telling me all of them have ended up here?” Zhuyou sneered.

“Not quite,” Guanshang replied. “Only those annihilated within this place can stumble upon its boundaries.”

“And where are your ten thousand devil soldiers?” Zhuyou’s shoulders tensed as she spoke cautiously, her words measured.

“See for yourself,” Guanshang’s hun soul answered.

As soon as he finished speaking, a low roar echoed from the distance, “Who goes there?”

Zhuyou lifted her gaze toward the sound. Heavy footsteps rumbled through the darkness, the clanking of armor reverberating as a tide of shadowy figures emerged. The light from her phoenix fire illuminated the scene—indeed, there they were: the ten thousand devil soldiers.

The devil soldiers stiffened upon seeing her, as though facing an overwhelming threat. The leader of the group stepped forward hastily and demanded, “Who are you?”

Zhuyou unleashed a wave of spiritual pressure, forcing the devil to his knees with a loud thud.

The entire troop trembled violently, too afraid to advance.

The leading devil hesitantly raised his head and caught sight of the floating hun soul beside Zhuyou—recognizing it at once as Guanshang’s hun soul!

“If you trust me, Your Grace, please allow my three hun souls to reunite,” the two voices echoed in unison again.

Zhuyou tilted her head back, glancing upward, but there were no stars, no sun, no moon—nothing but a void beyond the reach of the Heavenly Dao. Her eyes grew cold as she said softly, “Don’t rush. I will wait until I break through the Ultimate stage.”

With a twist of her wrist, she conjured a restriction a hundred paces away. Although the barrier was meant to be invisible, it burned with crimson phoenix fire, as though she stood in the heart of an inferno.

Guanshang’s hun soul was also trapped within the barrier, and his voice grew cold and menacing. “Aren’t you afraid that I might suddenly turn against you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, eight restrictions fell upon the hun soul simultaneously, pinning him in place.

Zhuyou gathered her spiritual power and focused her mind on her spiritual sea—she needed to unravel every thread of memory, one by one, without leaving a single strand unchecked.