I Swear I’m Not a Demonic Cultivator - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Obtaining the Human Emperor Banner as Reward

Fang Zheng closed his eyes in agony, activating the Blood Sacrifice Floating Pagoda Great Prison-Suppressing Formation.

Ding!

Novice Village Trial Mission: Integrate into Mortal Life – Stage Progress Achieved!

Mission Objective: Heed the ‘Prayers’ – Completed (3/3)!

Reward: Human Emperor Banner *1 (Capable of housing souls and amplifying the user’s power; the more souls stored, the greater the amplification).

Fang Zheng remained deaf to these notifications.

Pain engulfed him entirely.

He closed his eyes not out of fear, but because of a profound and unprecedented sense of tragic heroism—a characteristic of the “righteous path” he had never experienced before.

A phrase from the Azure Cloud Sect’s Classic Texts spontaneously surfaced in his mind: Employ thunderous means with a bodhisattva’s compassion.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the souls about to be “saved,” in a voice only he could hear.

To protect, sacrifices must be made.

Fang Zheng no longer hesitated.

With a thought, he channeled all his energy into the peerless formation beneath his feet—the one called “Guardian.”

“Hahaha! Breaking down already? Trying to self-destruct?”

Seeing this, Zhao Xun’s face overflowed with mockery. He stomped his foot on the Old Village Chief’s chest, the crisp crack of shattering bones ringing out clearly.

“A crippled wretch bound by the Immortal Binding Cord? You think you can still turn the tides?”

His Junior Brother beside him grinned savagely, about to draw his leather whip.

But in the next instant, his laughter caught in his throat.

Buzz—!

A thunderous roar erupted from the depths of the earth, piercing everyone’s eardrums with agonizing pain.

The pitch-black array patterns that covered the entire village came to life.

Like countless ravenous veins, they blazed with an eerie crimson light, staining heaven and earth a blood-red hue.

Then, an even more terrifying spectacle unfolded.

Bang!

The Old Village Chief, crushed beneath Zhao Xun’s foot, exploded without warning.

No flesh or blood splattered.

Instead, his entire being—bones, clothes, and all—instantaneously transformed into a wisp of pure, pitch-black Qi that shot skyward.

In Fang Zheng’s mind, the System’s cold notification rang out.

Ding! Detecting ‘Suffering of All Beings’. Initiating extraction process…

Fang Zheng froze.

So, this isn’t slaughter.

This is… deliverance!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Explosions, like silent fireworks, bloomed one after another in every corner of the village.

Men, women, and children.

Every villager, bathed in crimson light, silently and utterly dissolved into black mist.

Their lifelong suffering, their generation-spanning despair, and their ancestral hatred were all distilled into pure essence.

The smile on Zhao Xun’s face froze completely.

Before he could even ponder why the Demon Lord would slaughter the village in such a brutal manner, the sky-darkening black torrent had already coalesced into shape.

Ding! ‘Suffering’ energy conversion complete! ‘Sin-Cleansing Divine Punishment’ generated!

The black mist didn’t surge toward Fang Zheng.

Instead, with an unstoppable force, it violently poured into Zhao Xun and his Junior Brother’s seven orifices!

“Aaaah—!!!”

Zhao Xun’s Junior Brother was the first to emit a non-human shriek of agony.

His body remained physically unscathed.

Yet his eyeballs instantly burst, two streams of black blood gushing down his cheeks.

Beneath his skin, countless tormented faces seemed to writhe and surface, transforming him into a living embodiment of curses.

“S-save me… Save me…”

From his mouth erupted a cacophony: the piercing cries of a child, the wailing of an old woman, the desperate howls of a man.

Countless voices, overlapping and intertwining, forced their way through his throat.

This was Divine Punishment.

In the blink of an eye—a ten-thousandth of a second—he was made to endure all the tortures and torments suffered by generations of his village.

Splat!

His Junior Brother’s Divine Soul was the first to be pulverized. His body collapsed stiffly, black blood streaming from his seven orifices, leaving behind a soulless husk.

Ding! Executing ‘Purification’ upon the enemy. Their soul shall be eternally damned to the cycle of suffering, never to be redeemed!

As Fang Zheng heard the System’s notification, clarity flooded his mind.

So that’s it.

The Blood Sacrifice was an offering of their suffering.

The Floating Pagoda was a monument of Merit to their liberation.

The Prison-Suppressing Formation was to condemn the tormentor to the very hell he had created with his own hands—forever!

This is true guardianship!

This is true great compassion!

Even the residual energy of the Divine Punishment caused the Immortal Binding Cord restraining him to emit a mournful, sizzling hiss. The dark green cord snapped inch by inch, its Artifact Spirit wailing as it dissipated into nothingness.

Zhao Xun was still alive.

His Divine Soul, teetering on the brink of collapse, was forcibly suspended, forced to endure the endless torment. With his last shred of strength, he lifted his twisted, disfigured face and gazed toward the center of the Formation.

There, he witnessed the most incomprehensible and terrifying sight of his life.

The villagers sacrificed in the Blood Sacrifice had not vanished.

Their Spirit Bodies now floated in mid-air.

Gone were the pain and numbness from their faces, replaced by a serene contentment, as if their souls had been thoroughly cleansed and purified.

They smiled.

From the depths of their hearts, they beamed at the Demon God seated at the Formation’s center—the Demon God who wept as he personally ushered them into “Paradise.” It was their most devout, most fervent smile, born of pure gratitude.

They were thanking him.

At that moment, Zhao Xun’s Dao Heart shattered into dust.

Having resolved everything, Fang Zheng stood frozen in place.

Fang Zheng was free.

Yet he didn’t move.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

He stared at the deserted village.

At the spots where the villagers had stood moments before they vanished.

At the gate of the Old Village Chief’s courtyard, kicked wide open.

The space where his heart should have been was hollow.

A vast emptiness spread from his chest, engulfing his limbs and bones.

Fang Zheng opened his mouth, but no sound emerged from his parched throat, only a burning dryness.

He had killed them.

With his own hands, he had slaughtered every person he had sworn to protect.

To protect, one must sacrifice?

This… this was the righteous path?

“Hah…”

A meaningless syllable escaped from deep within his throat.

For the first time, Fang Zheng’s Dao Heart—that bedrock belief in “Heaven Rewards Diligence”—was riddled with spiderweb-like cracks.