Great Demon - Chapter 82 Part 1

In that brief instant, Shangxi City, which was only slightly lower than the Nine Heavens, shook violently. Jagged fissures split through it, as if a ferocious beast had taken a massive bite out of it.

Towers and walls collapsed in an instant. The demons and devils inside the buildings tried to flee, but the overwhelming pressure forced them to the ground, leaving them howling in despair. Many were buried beneath the rubble, while only a few managed to withstand the crushing force and escape.

When the demons and devils looked up, they suddenly realized that the sky had darkened. The long stairway leading to the distant Heavenly Palace seemed to be receding further and further away.

Shangxi City was located close to the Nine Heavens, bathed in divine radiance, allowing it to witness the sunrise and sunset. But now, as it drifted away and tilted toward the devil’s domain, even the remaining half-light of the heavens disappeared.

This wasn’t just an earthquake—Shangxi City had been severed!

Terrified, they turned and saw a phoenix, its entire body crimson red. It shone even brighter than the divine radiance, each of its feathers burning with vermillion flames. On its back were two pairs of vast wings, large enough to blot out the sky.

A phoenix with twin wings—there was likely only one such creature in all Three Realms.

Was this an immortal? But when had the Phoenix Clan ever produced such a being? Even Phoenix Lord Yunshuo had never possessed two pairs of wings.

No. The demons and devils shook their heads. This Vermillion Phoenix had no trace of immortal aura, yet she also did not exude the aura of a devil. Instead, she seemed to exist outside the realms of both immortals and devils—like a great demon who disregarded the trivial affairs of this turbulent world.

Yet the demon race had long since declined. In all the clans, none resembled a phoenix of the Nine Heavens.

The demons and devils felt a searing pain in their eyes. Whether from the flames of the phoenix or the sheer pressure of her presence, they dared not look any longer. Lowering their heads in haste, hearts pounding like drums, they all wondered—Who is this? Who exactly is she?

At that moment, a dark figure rose against the wind, standing face-to-face with the Vermillion Phoenix, seemingly unfazed by the terrifying pressure.

The figure had flowing black hair and a tall, slender frame. When she turned slightly to look at the jagged opening in Shangxi City, the demons and devils finally got a clear view of her face. Though they did not recognize her appearance, they knew that the Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens was the golden-eyed Obsidian Dragon.

She… had come as well. Shangxi City had not been this lively in a long time.

The demons and devils had not seen the earth-shattering red light just now, so they did not know who had severed Shangxi City. But upon seeing Changying, they couldn’t help but wonder—was it the Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens who had done this?

They trembled and shook their heads. No, the Divine Venerable had only risen into the sky afterward. The one who severed Shangxi City was clearly that mysterious Vermillion Phoenix.

A deep sense of dread filled them. They stared in disbelief at the sky, only to feel hot blood suddenly streaming from their eyes. The realization was terrifying—the Vermillion Phoenix’s power was on par with the Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens. Such a thing was unimaginable.

Changying furrowed her brows, but her expression remained cold, her emotions unreadable. Her golden eyes were half-lidded, their narrow shape and upturned corners making it impossible for her to appear innocent no matter how much she restrained her expression.

She stared fixedly at the Vermillion Phoenix before her. By now, how could she not understand what Zhuyou intended?

Zhuyou would not return to the Nine Heavens. Instead, she was using the situation to her advantage, planning to uncover Shangxi City’s mysteries from Guanshang.

A chill ran down Changying’s spine, creeping into her fingertips. She had not expected that even after regaining her spiritual form, Zhuyou would still walk such a dangerous path, refusing to enjoy even a moment of peace befitting an ancient god.

Shangxi City suddenly sank further, plunging completely into darkness. No matter how many lamps still flickered in the city below, they could not outshine the burning phoenix above. With just a single beat of her four wings, the entire city could become a furnace, capable of melting even gold and stone.

Then, in an instant, the phoenix transformed into human form. She had silver hair, wore black robes, and was draped in a crimson gauze cloak—strikingly beautiful.

Her face, as bright as the moon and untouched by mortal dust, appeared in the eyes of the demons and devils. Such beauty was rarely seen across the Three Realms. If not for the red phoenix mark at the corner of her eye, she would not have seemed so intoxicating. She was like mist, like snow—distant and untouchable, slipping through one’s fingers like a fleeting illusion.

She was not an unknown figure. Two hundred years ago, after falling into the devil path, she had seized the Grand Hall of the devil’s domain—

Zhuyou.

How could it be her?

Several demons were already bleeding from their eyes, their faces stained crimson. Yet they refused to avert their gaze, standing firm. The world admired beauty, but what truly captivated them was the overwhelming power and terrifying presence before them.

Zhuyou, now in human form, turned to look at Changying with an expression of indifference, as if she did not regard her as a threat at all. She spoke carelessly, “I’ve done this job for you. I originally intended to kill you, but for now, I can’t. It would be best if we don’t fight to the point of mutual destruction. You should leave.”

Changying clenched the immortal hun soul in her hand and frowned. “I never needed you to do it for me.”

Zhuyou glanced at her, a mocking smirk on her lips, as if teasing, “I fear that before you could act, I would already strike first.”

Changying froze for a moment. The fire in her heart, just extinguished, suddenly flared up again, burning to her throat.

Zhuyou’s gaze darkened. Her lips, tinged a deep red, parted slightly as she spoke in a slow, deliberate voice, “You’re angry. You’d best suppress it. If emotions like these consume your heart, they will disturb your realm and cloud your mind.”

Her words were gentle, but Changying understood the deeper meaning—emotions could give rise to a heart devil, and once a heart devil formed, the path to devilhood became easy.

Changying furrowed her brows and glanced at the devil hun soul in Zhuyou’s hand, only to lower her eyes in contemplation.

Zhuyou saw her reaction clearly and let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “The moment I seized this hun soul, I could no longer avoid the karma and tribulations. There is no turning back. You don’t need to find a way out for me.”

The devil hun soul in her hand was eerily silent, bound tightly by restrictions. No matter how cunning Guanshang had been, the soul was still just a hun soul. With its three hun souls yet to be reunited and its body still absent, what power did it have to resist?

“You’ve already cleared your name, yet you still insist on throwing yourself into the abyss.” A bitterness rose in Changying’s throat. Each word felt heavy, as if choking her.

Zhuyou hovered in the air, looking down with a faint smirk. “If I don’t enter the abyss, who will?”

She no longer held any hopes for the Nine Heavens. Back when devil thoughts still clung to her heart, she had once planned to revive Guanshang—not out of compassion, but to seize the spiritual threads within his sea of consciousness, to dig out the secrets he had buried deep in his heart about the hidden Heavenly Dao. She wanted to consume his devil aura, devour his cultivation, and take his place, then undergo another tribulation of heavenly thunder and earthly fire to bring about the collapse of the Nine Heavens—to become… the ruler of both demons and devils.

At that time, her heart was a devil’s heart. How could she have cared about virtue or righteousness? But now, it all seemed like a joke. If her Dao was destined to perish… then what was the point of her resistance thousands of years ago? And what did those who had brought her back to life do it for?

She wanted so badly to grab Changying by the collar and ask how she had been resurrected after her annihilation. But now was not the right time.

Now, all her memories from thousands of years ago surged back into her sea of consciousness. The grievances she had once clung to seemed to be buried at the very bottom of her heart, with traces worn and weathered. Covering them was her Dao, the five aggregates and seven afflictions she had painstakingly come to understand, and the heaven and earth severance she had been fortunate enough to witness before her annihilation.

Changying slowly closed her golden eyes, and after a long pause, she reopened them and said in a calm voice, “Shangxi City has collapsed. It must find a place to rest. But the Nine Heavens… has never considered where Shangxi City should go.”

“The Nine Heavens had no intention of keeping Shangxi City a thousand years ago. It’s only a shame they failed to destroy it.” Zhuyou’s voice was steady. “Now that I am here, I will find a place for it.”

“Are you truly unable to leave Shangxi City?” Changying lowered her head, scanning the city below from her elevated position. Everywhere her gaze landed, there was nothing out of the ordinary. She had no idea how this place was capable of evading the Heavenly Dao.

Zhuyou’s tone was laced with meaning. “Yes, I cannot leave.”

Changying slid the immortal hun soul she held into her sleeve. “Where exactly is the mystery of this place hidden?”

Zhuyou turned slightly to the side and, quite suddenly, sat down. There was nothing beneath her, yet she sat suspended in midair without support. She crossed her legs and propped her chin on her hand—just as she had often done in the Grand Hall of the devil’s domain. She had lounged like this on the soft divan back then.

“There is indeed a mystery here. I know a thing or two, but I will never tell you.”

A long, ancient sword suddenly appeared in Changying’s hand, its hilt adorned with shimmering dragon scales.

It was Xuanjing.

Zhuyou’s brows furrowed. The moment she saw the sword, she caught a familiar scent and immediately understood—it was Xuanjing.

Her fingers clenched tightly as she narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the blade. It bore no trace of devil aura—it had either been cleansed or forcibly suppressed. Her lips moved slightly as she slowly repeated the name, “Xuanjing.”

Changying shifted the scabbard to the side, and with a sharp clang, the sword slid out halfway. The blade was not pristine and white, but dark as ink—like a whetstone polished to a razor edge. The moment the sword left its sheath, spiritual energy surged forth from Changying, roaring downward like a storm.

The force rippled outward, sending the scattered rubble and dust of the collapsed Shangxi City into the air. The city, already shrouded in darkness, grew even dimmer, as if night had swallowed it whole. If not for the flickering lanterns within the city, nothing would have been visible.

Changying fully unsheathed the sword, and in an instant, the black scabbard dissolved into mist and vanished. The blade hummed, as if responding.

“So he truly left with you.” Zhuyou measured her words. “The devil’s domain has lost a First Lord, and you’ve gained an excellent sword.”