Great Demon - Chapter 86 Part 1

The divine radiance in the sky shone brightly, scattering the clouds in a magnificent display.

Zhuyou leaned against the Obsidian Dragon, bathed in divine light. A gentle warmth filled her spiritual consciousness, yet her body felt utterly drained, unwilling to move even a fraction. She rested her chin on the Obsidian Dragon, her silver hair slightly disheveled, revealing a sharp, slender jawline. Her lips were marked with faint traces of dried blood, the result of forceful biting.

Changying lay still once more, listening to Zhuyou’s faint breaths. She wished she could coil around her even tighter, feeling as though she still hadn’t concealed her well enough. But how else could she hide her? What could she do to make Zhuyou completely disappear, unnoticed?

Zhuyou’s fingers, resting against the Obsidian Dragon’s back, slowly curled into a fist. The tendons on the back of her hand slightly tensed, and an aching sensation spread through her spiritual consciousness. The seven po souls, once whole, now bore a cleanly severed gap—one po soul had been forcibly cleaved away.

She truly had lost a po soul. Fortunately, this tribulation had only cost her a po soul rather than a hun soul. Losing a po soul would merely dull her perception of worldly pleasures, but if she had lost a hun soul, she would have been reduced to a fool.

“I’ve lost a po soul.” Zhuyou’s tightly pressed lips parted slightly, and she added, “That means this tribulation has passed.”

“Which po soul did you lose? We can find it again someday.” The Obsidian Dragon finally stirred and asked, “Does it still hurt?”

“I’m not sure… It still aches a little.” Zhuyou’s voice was weak. She lifted her head to gaze at the enormous dragon, meeting those cold, golden eyes. Those vertical pupils were frigid, staring straight at her.

Zhuyou slowly unclenched her fingers, belatedly realizing how hard she had been pressing into her palm. “Why did you suddenly come?”

“I sensed you ascending to the clouds and hurried over,” Changying replied.

“I’m fine on my own. Don’t you have important matters to tend to?” Zhuyou’s voice was barely above a whisper.

She was half-reclining against the dragon, her shoulder blades faintly protruding. Her lower body was buried beneath the dragon’s coils, her silk dress lifted, revealing her knees, which lightly rested against the dragon’s abdomen.

“I just sent that immortal hun soul into the cycle of reincarnation. I sentenced her to ten lifetimes of suffering, branding her soul with the word ‘sin.’ Only after enduring ten wretched lives will she be allowed to enter the Asura Realm—where she will ultimately be erased.” Changying spoke slowly. “When I sensed you rising to the Nine Heavens, I was still in the Observatory Pavilion and happened to learn something.”

“What was it?” Zhuyou sat up, exhausted, leaning against the dragon. The corners of her eyes were flushed, her entire demeanor frail and sickly. Her bare feet, pristine and untouched by dust, lightly rested on the dragon’s rough scales.

Changying hesitated for a moment, as if deliberating. “Two hundred years ago, the immortals also entered the Turbid Mirror, but what they saw was different from what we witnessed recently. I suspect that the Turbid Mirror was manipulated at the time.”

“Who do you suspect?” Zhuyou frowned deeply, her half-lidded eyes burning under the divine light.

“In the past, I wouldn’t have been able to guess, but now I can make a bold assumption. Someone might have used the mysteries of Shangxi City,” Changying said coldly.

“I managed to extract some information from Guanshang.” Zhuyou spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully.

The Obsidian Dragon lowered its head, its gaze fixed unblinkingly on the silver-haired Vermillion Phoenix nestled within its coils.

“Guanshang must have a backup plan. The ancient devils lingering in this world—he may not be the only one,” Zhuyou continued in a soft voice. “But as for where this devil is now, I have no way of knowing.”

“When I was in the Observatory Pavilion, I learned from the Fate Keeper that on the day he foresaw calamity for the ancient gods, the Divine Sun was shrouded in thick clouds. Yet no one visited the Observatory Pavilion that day. It seems likely that this matter is connected to that lingering ancient devil.” Changying’s tone was measured.

Zhuyou shook her head slightly. “This matter requires further investigation.”

“Does it still hurt?” Changying asked abruptly.

Zhuyou was momentarily startled, then shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” But when she had been in the Endless Abyss, she had truly felt as though she were dying from the pain.

Seeing her shake her head, Changying noticed that her breathing had steadied significantly. Only then did she lower her head and press her face closer to Zhuyou’s pale one.

Zhuyou saw the dragon’s head nudging toward her again and hurriedly closed one eye, her silver hair tumbling messily over her face.

The Obsidian Dragon was gentler this time, but she was still nudged slightly to the side, nearly losing her balance.

Steadying herself, Zhuyou pursed her lips and looked at the dragon. She thought she should be angry at this moment, but there wasn’t a single ripple of irritation in her heart—only a profound calm.

Even her heart’s blood remained still, undisturbed by anger.

At that moment, Zhuyou understood—she no longer knew how to feel anger.

Sensing her sudden stiffness, Changying quickly pulled back and asked, “Is your spiritual consciousness hurting again?”

Zhuyou snapped back to awareness, immediately suppressing her heavy expression. She didn’t want Changying to notice. She thought carefully—how did she normally act when she was angry? After a long moment, she abruptly raised her arm and smacked the dragon’s back with a crisp slap.

Changying was momentarily stunned.

Zhuyou’s mind was in turmoil. She had never expected the po soul she lost to be this one. She lifted her eyes and, to her surprise, caught a trace of worry in the dragon’s cold gaze. After a moment of thought, she let out a soft chuckle.

“You’re angry,” Changying stated with certainty.

Zhuyou exhaled a breath and said indifferently, “That’s right.”

In the distance, footsteps approached.

Without hesitation, Zhuyou transformed back into a palm-sized crimson-feathered bird and nestled into the coils of the dragon’s body.

The magpie immortal, who had cautiously approached, paused in surprise. She wasn’t sure if her eyes were deceiving her, but she could have sworn she had just glimpsed a silver-haired, black-robed beauty leaning against the Obsidian Dragon’s back.

Impossible. There was no trace of any other presence here. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought as a mere trick of the light.

The magpie immortal bowed and said, “Divine Venerable, the Heavenly Emperor wishes to see you.”

“Let him wait a while,” Changying said coolly.

The magpie immortal hesitated before responding reluctantly, then turned and left.

Once the magpie immortal was gone, Zhuyou returned to her human form. She patted the dark dragon scales on Changying’s back, neither too lightly nor too firmly, and said, “Give me Guanshang’s body. I’ve passed this calamity—I should go back and pay him a visit.”

Changying was reluctant to hand it over at first, but after a moment’s thought, she shifted into her human form and pulled the body out from her mustard seed pouch.

Zhuyou quickly put it away. After a pause, she reached out to straighten Changying’s collar and said, “Go on now.”

Changying’s lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to kiss her, but she held back. If she kissed Zhuyou now, who knew if she would be able to stop—just like the last two times.

The thought was strange—wanting someone so intensely that it felt like she wanted to swallow her whole. Was it normal for emotion and desire to become so intertwined?

“I’m leaving,” Changying said softly. She tore her gaze away from Zhuyou’s face and swiftly turned to depart.

***

Only after she was gone did Zhuyou return to Shangxi City.

Shangxi City, severed from its foundation, now floated adrift. Fortunately, the city’s lanterns hung high, keeping the darkness at bay.

At the edge of the glacier formed by Obsidian Dragon’s breath, the gathered demons and devils had vanished—likely hiding somewhere.

In a concealed corner, the void seemed torn open, revealing the pitch-black Endless Abyss, gaping like a watchful eye.

Zhuyou paused and silently studied the rift before raising her arm and tearing it open further. Holding her breath, she stepped inside.

Guanshang must have anticipated her return and left the door open.

Inside the Endless Abyss, rows of devil soldiers stood motionless. Within a barrier, Guanshang’s reunited devil hun soul seemed to have settled into eerie calm.

Zhuyou stepped through the barrier and seized his hun soul tightly between her fingers, letting out a soft, mocking laugh. “Waiting for me?”

“My life is in your hands—how could I not wait?” Guanshang said smoothly. “Isn’t it time you allowed my hun soul to enter my spirit platform?”

“Very well,” Zhuyou said with a cold chuckle. She raised her arm and pulled out an object—but it wasn’t a body. It was a brush.

Guanshang’s hun soul was trapped in her grip as the brush tip fell onto his form, inscribing a series of runes.

“The Ten-Thousand-Mile Soul-Slaying Script?” Guanshang rasped.

“Devils can’t be trusted—I don’t trust you,” Zhuyou said.

Her expression darkened as she tossed the brush into the air. Then, without hesitation, she drew out the body and slammed Guanshang’s hun soul into its spirit platform.

The impact made the body shudder violently. Blood oozed from a pair of devil horns on its head, and the skull itself seemed to crack open, splitting like parched earth.

With his hun soul now inside the body, Guanshang’s eyes snapped open. Devilish energy surged around him as he clutched his head and glared viciously at the ancient god who stood above him, gazing down coldly.

Zhuyou’s expression remained icy. In the Turbid Mirror, Guanshang had split Changying’s skull open. Though it had been because of her, it was a debt she would return to this devil.

A chill seeped through her, the weight of countless sins and karmic entanglements pressing down—but she showed no sign of discomfort. She caught the falling feathered brush, its flame-bright tip illuminating the blood trickling down Guanshang’s face.

Zhuyou crouched down and drove the brush tip into the center of his brow. Another three inches, and she could pry his newly returned hun soul right back out of his spirit platform.

She was no stranger to prying things loose. Three thousand years ago, she had pried the Heart-Questioning Rock free; two hundred years ago, she had chipped out half the spirit stone within it. Compared to that, extracting a devil’s hun soul was nothing.

Guanshang’s head bled freely, devil markings covering his dark skin, making his bone-white hair all the more striking. He let out a raspy laugh. “Thank you, Your Grace, for bearing this karmic debt.”

Zhuyou smiled faintly. She had once been a devil herself. In a low voice, she said, “It must be repaid.”

Without hesitation, she clamped her fingers around his head, intending to pull at the soul threads and uncover the secrets of the Endless Abyss.

Guanshang’s three hun souls had only just returned to his spirit platform. Though devilish energy poured off him, he was still weak. He let out a hoarse, bestial growl as he struggled against her grip.

Outside the barrier, the devil soldiers immediately advanced, unleashing magic in a desperate attempt to break through.

Sparks of fire scattered like crimson arrows, shooting toward them.

United, the ten-thousand-strong devil army raised a shield of devil energy, blocking the incoming barrage. In perfect unison, they hurled their halberds toward the barrier.

With a heavy crash, the barrier shattered like brittle glass, pieces flying everywhere as the halberds fell around Zhuyou.

Zhuyou narrowed her eyes sharply. Guanshang let out a mocking laugh, his bloodstained teeth gleaming in the flickering light.

Her heart clenched. In an instant, Guanshang raised his hands—his blackened nails had grown several inches, sharp as blades. He slashed open his right palm, and blood gushed forth.

Just as his hand was about to strike her face, Zhuyou shut her eyes and twisted aside—but droplets of blood still splattered onto her arm.

When she reopened her eyes, Guanshang was gone—along with the entire devil army.

Thousands of devil soldiers had vanished in the blink of an eye. If not for the devil’s blood corroding her skin, she might have believed she was dreaming.

She had miscalculated—underestimating both the Endless Abyss and Guanshang’s mastery of it.

Scanning her surroundings, she found only emptiness. Even when she extended her divine senses, she couldn’t detect a single trace of devil energy. It was as if Guanshang had vanished from existence, taking his soldiers with him.

Zhuyou’s gaze dropped as she activated the Ten-Thousand-Mile Soul-Slaying Script. Yet in the span of a mere breath, Guanshang had already fled beyond its reach.

Was the Endless Abyss truly this vast and boundless?

She turned her wrist, and a handkerchief appeared in her palm. She crouched down and began to wipe the filthy blood at her feet with the plain, clean cloth. 

It was the blood that had trickled down from Guanshang’s shattered skull.

She pinched the handkerchief with an expression of extreme distaste, yet still brought it closer to her nose for a sniff. It carried a withered, decayed scent, like something long dead.

This was… Guanshang’s scent.

The surroundings remained eerily quiet, but she had a feeling that Guanshang would not leave the Endless Abyss immediately. He was likely hiding somewhere, waiting for the right moment. With his current abilities, his cultivation level had yet to recover—leaving this place would be a death sentence.

Zhuyou furrowed her brows, an unshakable irritation rising in her heart, though she wasn’t sure why she was so angry. She stood still for a moment, then took the strand of Changying’s hair and rubbed it between her fingers. An idea suddenly came to her.

If Guanshang wanted to regain his strength, he would undoubtedly try to rally the Demon Clan. She needed to find a way to lure him out.

Clenching the blood-stained handkerchief tightly—only holding it by a corner to avoid the filthy blood touching her fingers—she extended her divine sense across several miles. Yet, no trace of Guanshang’s presence could be found. This devil truly came and went without a trace, disappearing with his countless devil soldiers in the blink of an eye.

All it took was a single closed eye, and the devil had slipped away with his entire army. In the darkness, only the phoenix flames born from the shattered barrier continued to burn.

Zhuyou’s brows were knitted tighter. She couldn’t linger in the Endless Abyss indefinitely.

Guanshang’s devilish ambition ran deep—he had planned for a millennium to be reborn, nearly capturing an immortal hun soul to shield himself from the heavenly light. This scheme was not just for revenge—perhaps he even intended to seize the heavens themselves. Yet, unexpected variables had thrown his plans off course.

Zhuyou pinched the handkerchief as she pondered, a faint smile curling her lips. Since that was his aim, she might as well play the guide and lead the floating Shangxi City straight to the Demon Realm.

With that thought, she tore open the void and stepped out of the Endless Abyss.

She had no intention of using lives as bait to reopen the gate to the Endless Abyss as Guanshang had done. Once she left, who knew when she could reenter?

For now, she would investigate whether the demons and devils in Shangxi City had left any clues behind.