Chapter 39: Not Skilled in Such Delicate Work as Saving the World

Cultivating the Blood Divine Sutra is an ordeal of the utmost severity and pain. One must first pierce the vital points with the Great Asura Demonic Fire Divine Needles, enduring nine years of soul-searing torment by demonic fire. Thereafter, the practitioner must flay their own skin to sever all karmic ties of their past self, and finally, with demonic fire, refine themselves into a shadow of blood—only then can one claim any measure of achievement.

The old fiend Red Lotus was cunning to the extreme. On that day, when the Grand Twofold Microdust Formation sealed off all vitality, not even reincarnating through multiple lifetimes, cleansing his origins, and disguising himself as a disciple under the Zen Master Tianmeng could save him. Presided over by Qi Shuming, the Grand Twofold Microdust Formation traced the most fundamental thread of karma and refined him to death, body and soul.

Yet, not even Qi Shuming, let alone Chen Yang, his most "beloved" disciple, knew that this old demon not only had a Buddhist identity but also a Daoist one—none other than Elder Bitter Bamboo, one of the Six Eccentrics of the Universe.

Facing this top-tier eccentric who bore much goodwill toward Emei, Qi Shuming hesitated only for a fleeting instant. In that moment, the old fiend, with his profound cultivation, divined a sliver of life, abandoned all else, and left only a wisp of demonic intent, which, following the karmic connection with Chen Yang, likewise escaped to this world.

Now, having endured nine years of demonic fire, flayed himself to sever former cause and effect, he had, in truth, achieved significant progress in the Blood Divine Sutra.

Had it been someone like Deng Yin, reckless and unthinking, he would have charged in at once, his blood shadow pouncing to seize every ounce of his enemy’s cultivation.

But the old demon knew this beloved disciple all too well, understood his prowess, and from this faint wisp of aura, could vaguely sense the scent of a demon among demons. This gave him pause.

Suppressing the urge to immediately seek out his good disciple for a “heart-to-heart,” the old demon took Guo Xiaoshan back to the Immortal Estate, preparing a grand surprise for Chen Yang.

…

Though Chen Yang’s understanding of the demonic path far surpassed that of his master, in terms of pure cultivation, there was still a considerable gap. The old demon had long achieved the rank of Celestial Immortal—not the sort with only power and no true attainment, but a genuine one.

With Chen Yang’s current cultivation, he could not possibly sense his erstwhile master’s arrival in advance.

Yet, even if he knew, Chen Yang would feel not the slightest fear—only delight.

Back in Western Kunlun, he had already wanted to slay Deng Yin, the Blood Divine Scion, to forge a sword and see what might come of refining the greatest demonic scripture’s blood fiend into the Celestial-Slaughtering Sword of the Heavenly Demon.

He had, for that very purpose, researched several methods to deal with a Blood Divine Scion.

Fate, however, had not yet turned against the old demon, and so the opportunity had never come.

As the sword embryo neared perfection, Chen Yang found himself troubled over the forging of such a flying sword.

He had mastered the strengths of both Wutai and Emei, and both schools were famed for their swordsmanship. Countless were the sword-forging secrets at his disposal, but those capable of rivaling the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure could be counted on one hand. In truth, only the Celestial-Slaughtering Sword of the Heavenly Demon offered any real hope.

But hope was all it was, for the sword’s true marvel lay in the demon refined within. The stronger the demon, the more fearsome the completed sword.

Xu Feiniang had also forged a Celestial-Slaughtering Sword, but hers was hardly worth mentioning. Against ordinary foes it might suffice, but to challenge Emei? The Twin Swords of Purple and Azure alone would render it useless, to say nothing of the Seven Cultivators or the Flaming Gold Sword forged by the Three Immortals of the Eastern Sea. Her sword simply lacked a demon of sufficient caliber.

“Could it be that I must forge myself into the sword?”

With his demonic nature, were he to forge himself, the resulting Celestial-Slaughtering Sword would be peerlessly ferocious. But who would ever turn themselves into a sword?

Dismissing this unreliable notion, Chen Yang sighed softly.

“In the annals of my sect, it is said that in the higher spiritual worlds, there exist true dragons, true phoenixes, and other genuine spirits whose power rivals true immortals. Once I recover my cultivation, I shall journey to the spiritual realm, slay hundreds or thousands of them, and forge a Hundred-Spirit Immortal-Slaughtering Sword.”

Though this idea was equally far-fetched—after all, outside of the immortal realm, where could one find so many true spirits comparable to immortals to slay? Even in the immortal realm, such wanton slaughter would drive them to extinction.

And even if such beings existed, given the miserable state of nonhumans in Mount Shu, where not even the right to exist was guaranteed, Chen Yang had little hope that the Hundred-Spirit Immortal-Slaughtering Sword could rival the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure.

Mount Shu was no stranger to true dragons; in the past, even the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas had dwelled there. Yet they had suffered so much at the hands of the immortal predecessors that, in anger, they lodged complaints with the Celestial Emperor, His Majesty the Yellow Emperor.

As expected, nothing came of it. In the end, the Four Sea Dragon Kings gathered their entire clans and departed Mount Shu for good.

All that remained were a few pure-blooded, yet witless, poison dragons and other dragon breeds.

Even these pure-blooded dragon breeds fared poorly. The poison dragon elixir, which could strip nonhumans of their physical form, was concocted from the inner cores of these dragons—provided the dragons were sufficiently aged.

Many dragon breeds survived purely because they were too young to be of use and needed more time to mature.

It was a pitiful fate. These nonhumans had not merely lost their rights—they could not even count on the right to live, their plight so dire as to be unwatchable.

Chen Yang gravely suspected that the predecessors had persuaded the old dragons to leave behind some dragon breeds merely to enrich the world’s variety—and thus ensure a supply of alchemical ingredients for the future.

As he gazed at the seven sword embryos in the pill furnace, their spiritual natures had increased greatly. They danced like seven swimming fish, sharpening their edges against one another. Each sword embryo held the promise of becoming a peerless weapon, capable of undergoing the full nineteen refinements.

Having scoured the finest sword-forging materials from Baohua Continent, Eastern Victory Continent, and Southern Toad Continent, and with the aid of the Primal Origin Pill, Chen Yang had gathered seven of the universe’s supreme divine metals. Combined with a hundred top-grade spiritual metals, he had finally forged this batch of sword embryos.

To squander even one would be a tremendous loss. In this world, it was unlikely he could ever amass another set of materials to forge a similar batch.

With no heavenly demons in this world, the Celestial-Slaughtering Sword could not be forged—unless… he cultivated a supreme heavenly demon himself.

He bared his teeth in a wry grin. The thought of world destruction surfaced once more.

The will of this world’s heavens and earth must be blind—or perhaps simply desperate—if it placed its hopes on an outsider like him, a demon with no attachment to this realm.

He, Daoist Yuanyang, the Supreme Demon Lord, was no adept at the subtle art of salvation. Destruction, however, was another matter.

With a self-mocking laugh, his thoughts shifted.

“The Formless Sword was derived by that old Long-Brow from the Primordial Clarity’s own Formless Sword Qi. Though in a direct contest it is hard to rival the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure, when wielded in concert with the Primordial Clarity’s Formless Sword Qi, its profundity is second to none in the Mystical Gate.”

Don’t be misled by the time the Ascetic Monk, wielding the Formless Sword, ambushed the Primal Master, striking true in a single blow and wounding the master’s soul so grievously that he languished in agony for seven days and nights before passing into stillness.

Had it not been for the Primal Master’s Five-Poison Immortal Sword and Flaming Gold Sword being entangled and unable to defend him, and his defensive Supreme Taiyi Five-Luo Smoke having been stolen in advance by the traitor Zhu Hong at the Ascetic Monk’s instigation, leaving him bereft of protective treasures, combined with the shameless Emei elders’ encirclement—given the Ascetic Monk’s swordsmanship, it would have been impossible for the Formless Sword to succeed in a single strike.

That the Primordial Clarity’s Formless Sword Qi and Formless Sword fell into the hands of such a villain is a true disgrace to the Mystical Gate’s supreme sword art.

With a gesture, the seven sword lights cavorting in the furnace rang out in unison.

One, most fully formed and brimming with spiritual power, outshone the other six, broke free from the furnace, and flew to Chen Yang’s side, circling him like a mischievous child, playful and untamed.