I Swear I’m Not a Demonic Cultivator - Chapter 26
Chapter 26: Saving Willow Wind Manor
Lu Chuxue pushed himself upright.
His movements were stiff and deliberate, every muscle under absolute control.
He knelt upright.
Then, he lifted his head and looked at Fang Zheng.
The fear, cunning, and survival instinct that had previously filled his face had vanished, leaving only an absolute emptiness, born from the depths of his soul.
Thud!
Lu Chuxue’s forehead slammed heavily against the hard ground.
The impact of bone against jagged stone echoed with a dull thud, like a stone sinking into mud.
When he raised his head, his forehead was a bloody mess.
“Master,” he rasped, his voice flat and hoarse like a rusty machine grinding into motion.
Fang Zheng watched him.
It’s done.
The Nine Nether Demon Heart Seed was indeed the supreme method of cultivation.
In the Classic Texts of the Righteous Dao, this title “Master” was the highest honorific a follower could bestow upon their guide, signifying absolute trust and a rebirth.
His Dao Heart had been purified.
“Rise,” Fang Zheng said, his voice utterly flat.
“Thank you, Master!”
Lu Chuxue rose to his feet, standing stiffly beside him like a wooden stake driven into the ground, his head bowed so low his chin almost touched his chest.
A Demonic Disciple, infamous for his wickedness, had transformed into such a model of decorum in mere moments.
A wave of satisfaction washed over Fang Zheng.
Through the Seed of Light he had planted, he could clearly perceive everything about Lu Chuxue, including the fact that the man had already used his Jade Token to alert the Sect.
Fang Zheng remained unconcerned.
Now that he had sown the Righteous Dao Seed, Lu Chuxue’s past sins were severed.
The Demons of Hundred Herbs Valley would face reckoning sooner or later. What did it matter when? What could they do?
“Now, lead the way,” Fang Zheng commanded, his voice devoid of emotion yet radiating an innate confidence.
“Tell me, among the lambs penned up in Hundred Herbs Valley, where do they suffer most? Where do they most desperately need my salvation?”
The word “salvation” burned into Lu Chuxue’s Divine Soul like a red-hot branding iron.
His body convulsed violently.
In his mind, the scene of hundreds of Black Wind Village residents exploding into a sky-filling cloud of black miasma replayed endlessly.
He understood.
His Master intended to perform a “sacrifice”!
This was his chance!
His only opportunity to prove his worth!
How could sacrificing ordinary, lightly guarded Medicinal Field villages demonstrate his value? Such paltry merits were far too cheap!
To offer a sacrifice, one must present the greatest! The most bountiful! The offering most pleasing to the Master!
Only then could he satisfy the Master and avoid enduring once more the agonizing torment of having his Divine Soul devoured by countless Demon Insects!
Driven by extreme terror, Lu Chuxue’s mind raced frantically.
A name clawed its way out from the deepest, blood-red recesses of his memory:
Willow Wind Manor!
Lu Chuxue shuddered violently, as if struck by an invisible whip. He fumbled frantically in his robes, retrieving a Jade Slip inscribed with a map. With trembling hands, he presented it.
“M… Master! I know! I know!”
His voice, distorted by terror and desperate eagerness, rose to a shrill, distorted pitch, brimming with a desperate need to prove himself.
“Willow… Willow Wind Manor! That place… it’s the most sin-laden and wretched of all the Medicinal Fields! The mortals there yearn ceaselessly for deliverance!”
He pointed frantically at a glowing point on the Jade Slip, his words tumbling over one another.
“The mortals there… they never stop praying for release! Saving them… yes! Saving them would be… a Dao of boundless Merit!”
Fang Zheng’s gaze settled on Lu Chuxue’s face, twisted by terror.
He could feel it.
This man hadn’t chosen some easy, insignificant target to pacify himself.
He had chosen the most heavily guarded, which also meant the most deeply stained with sin.
Though the daunting task made him tremble from head to toe, he still chose it.
This showed how desperately he yearned for redemption.
How unwavering his resolve to do good was.
Excellent.
Fang Zheng nodded in approval.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, Master!” Lu Chuxue nearly knelt again in his excitement.
Without another word, Fang Zheng lifted the pitch-black Human Emperor Banner with one hand.
He looked at Lu Chuxue. “Stand beside me.”
“Yes!”
Lu Chuxue practically scrambled to Fang Zheng’s side. To walk alongside his master was the highest honor he could imagine.
In the next instant…
Boom—!
The Human Emperor Banner in Fang Zheng’s hand erupted with boundless radiance.
Before his eyes, the sacred microcosm within the banner tore open!
The Old Village Chief, the villagers of Black Wind Village… all the Martial Spirits he had saved transformed into golden, smiling, peaceful figures of light and soared from the banner.
They circled Fang Zheng, chanting solemn and divine hymns of praise.
A powerful, warm, and irresistible force surged from all directions.
Fang Zheng felt as if the very benevolence of the world were lifting him, and beneath his feet, a Great Dao paved with pure light materialized.
He transformed into a brilliant golden shooting star, soaring skyward in an instant.
Yet in Lu Chuxue’s perception, the scene unfolded as a starkly different hellish tableau.
He saw thousands of vengeful ghosts and resentful souls erupting from the black banner, their faces twisted in silent screams. They coalesced into a colossal, sky-darkening black vortex, engulfing him and his Master at its very center.
An ice-cold chill, seeping into his very bones, instantly froze his blood.
A cold, decaying ghost hand, mottled with corpse spots, gently rested on his shoulder.
The grotesquely distorted face of Zhao Xun, a Heaven Chosen from Hundred Herbs Valley, stretched and magnified countless times, pressed close to his cheek, revealing a smile devoid of eyeballs.
He had been invited.
Invited to the most exclusive VIP seat at the heart of this grand procession of ten thousand ghosts.
He could clearly feel the ghosts’ palpable, venomous resentment and hear the most malevolent curses against the living resonating deep within their Divine Souls.
Lu Chuxue’s eyes instantly became bloodshot, rolling upward into their sockets.
“Ugh…”
A short, anguished groan escaped his throat as his body went limp, and he fainted on the spot.
Fang Zheng extended his arm, and his Spiritual Energy coalesced into a hand that lifted the limp body into the air.
He glanced down at the unconscious man.
Still too timid. His Dao Heart is too weak.
It seems he needs more exposure to this immense Guardian power to acclimate.
Holding the banner aloft in one hand and carrying the unconscious Lu Chuxue with the other, Fang Zheng soared skyward, following the luminous Great Dao, surrounded by a procession of ten thousand Martial Spirits.
Willow Wind Manor blazed with light, as bright as day.
In the village’s central plaza, hundreds of Hundred Herbs Valley disciples stood in a massive, murderous formation, Magic Artifacts in hand, their swords drawn and bows strung taut.
At the heart of the formation, on a high platform, sat a purple-robed elder, cross-legged.
His overwhelming pressure as a peak Golden Core Stage cultivator weighed down on the entire scene like a mountain.
This was Sun Qing, the Great Elder of Hundred Herbs Valley.
Having received Lu Chuxue’s urgent plea for help, Sun Qing deduced the most likely target of their enemies and laid a perfect trap, waiting like a spider for its prey.
Now, sensing the earth-shattering Demonic Energy hurtling straight toward them, he slowly opened his eyes, a cold, cruel smile twisting his lips.
“Daring to slaughter my Medicinal Field and kill my disciples, yet you have the audacity to come to my door?”
“Azure Water Clear Sky Grand Formation, prepare!”
“Today, this Demon Lord will be annihilated—Divine Soul and all!”
Below the high platform, hundreds of disciples roared in unison, their voices shaking the heavens and the earth.
“We obey the Great Elder’s command!”
The words had barely left their mouths when the black meteor that had been tearing through the sky abruptly halted.
Fang Zheng, still carrying Lu Chuxue, gazed down at the scene below.
Hundreds of cultivators stood in rigid formation, a massive Formation glowing with swirling light and bristling with killing intent. An imposing elder, clearly the leader, sat regally at the highest point, exuding regal authority.
They knew we were coming to uphold justice, and they’ve already gathered all the guilty parties here, Fang Zheng thought. Are they lining up to await judgment?
Fang Zheng, still holding Lu Chuxue, slowly descended toward the center of the great Formation.
Thump.
He casually tossed the unconscious Lu Chuxue onto the ground, the impact echoing with a dull thud.
Fang Zheng raised his head, his gaze cutting through the hundreds of disciples to lock onto Sun Qing on the high platform.
“Quite the grand welcome ceremony you’ve prepared,” he remarked.