Chapter 9: Wild Imaginings

This world of cultivation must have once possessed an extraordinarily deep foundation. Since there are legends of immortals, it means that even if there were no true immortals, the cultivators’ power must have far surpassed the Nascent Soul stage of the Middle Ages. It’s only due to lack of restraint that things have deteriorated to the point where even Nascent Soul cultivators are nearly extinct.

If this trend continues for just another few tens of thousands of years, cultivators with spiritual roots will inevitably, through genetic advantage, gradually eliminate all mortals without spiritual roots. At that point, everyone will cultivate—every person a dragon. Then the world’s foundation will be consumed at an exponentially greater rate, accelerating until universal cultivation collapses into a time of declining spiritual energy. With individual power gone, mortal civilization will rise, developing technology until it reaches its peak, shattering the world. Then comes an epic war between cultivation and technology...

If everyone’s doomed anyway, why shouldn’t I be the one to bring about this apocalypse?

The more he considered it, the more reasonable it seemed, until Chen Yang spat at himself in disgust.

“Cultivating the demonic path really does make one’s thoughts too active. What nonsense am I thinking!” Annoyed by his own wild imagination, Chen Yang hurriedly gathered up his rampaging thoughts, lest he accidentally breed a few more inner demons.

He couldn’t practice Qi at the moment, but though he possessed supreme demonic nature and need not fear his own demons rebelling, having too many was less effective than letting just the Six Desires Yin Demon act as a bridgehead, making the borrowed magic power purer.

Hadn’t he refrained from feeding those souls to the Yin Demon to bolster its strength, instead refining them into soul threads and weaving them into a soul banner? He feared that otherwise, his power would be diluted, which would only undermine his own abilities.

Over a dozen days of research had yielded little, but as more disciples of the Supreme Demon Sect entered through the cultivation of the Mighty Demon God, the power he could draw upon steadily rose—now far greater than a month before. This brought some comfort, though it wasn’t especially useful. With the Blood-Transforming Divine Blade and the now-formidable White Bone Demon God at his command, he already had enough to run rampant—at least among Golden Core cultivators. As for Nascent Soul, he’d never met one, but didn’t particularly fear them.

He had many means at his disposal; it was just that the Blood-Transforming Divine Blade, paired with shadow magic, was so effective and convenient for killing that he hadn’t bothered with the others. If he ever faced an opponent he couldn’t defeat head-on, he had plenty of ways to finish them off without showing his hand.

Demonic arts were never suited for frontal duels; even those demons who appeared specialized for direct combat were in truth designed to augment bizarre magics. In direct confrontation, demonic cultivators who refined their thoughts couldn’t compare to the orthodox Daoist arts.

After all, their worldview was built on the unity of the primordial breath, creating all things. Though they lacked the demonic sect’s miraculous ability to manifest thought into reality, their spells were truly powerful. The simplest divine thunder, if one was careless, could engulf everything in a sea of lightning, leaving no escape.

Even a group of Emei juniors, who weren’t even loose immortals, could send a host of elders fleeing in disarray simply by wielding a few demon-refining treasures. Relying solely on demonic thoughts—even without the suppression of karmic fate or the threat of gods and saints descending—it was still hard to rival the Buddhist and Daoist sects.

As for the Daoist sects, they revered the very creators of the world as their ancestors—how could one contend with that? The Buddhist school, for its part, was hamstrung by Mara, the Demon Lord, who simply couldn’t compare to Shakyamuni. Ever since Mara had blocked Shakyamuni’s enlightenment, the line between Buddhism and demonhood blurred. Yet once a monk established the Bodhi mind, no matter how high your demonic magic, you could not touch them. This was a fundamental suppression, insurmountable at its source.

Only by mastering supreme demonic arts and wielding boundless demonic thoughts could one hope to match those two schools on equal terms. But how many ever attain such mastery and cultivate the ultimate demonic nature?

In all his time at Mount Shu, Chen Yang hadn’t seen a single one. Even someone like the Blood God Child Deng Yin, with immense power and vast magic, immune to ordinary Daoist or Buddhist restraints, had long since strayed from the path. He’d become unwittingly controlled by the demon god in the Blood God Scripture. If not for his formidable senior, Elder Longbrow, suppressing that demon god, his fate would have been dire indeed. Where would there be any of the Blood Demon Lord’s current glory?

As for his master, Red Lotus, who cultivated both demon and Buddha, his Buddhism was not the great vehicle of Shakyamuni, but rather his own interpretation of the sutras through the lens of demonic nature, forging his own unique path. Thus, his master was immune to Buddhist restraint and unafraid of ordinary demon-refining techniques, making him one of the most formidable of the demonic elders.

Unfortunately, with the Supreme Purity Divine Talisman suppressing the Two Forms Dust Array, this was no ordinary demon-refining method—it was pure dimensional suppression, an outrageous advantage.

Everyone knew Elder Longbrow’s claim that Emei was the direct transmission of the Supreme Purity Patriarch was pure nonsense. Yet with that grand array suppressing fortune, Emei was the only true Daoist orthodoxy on Mount Shu, and no one could change that.

Don’t believe it? Step into the array and see for yourself.

Feeling somewhat stifled, Chen Yang left the Heavenly Demon Hall and wandered the mountains at random.

Luo Yun Mountain consisted of over ten peaks, with a small spiritual vein running beneath, making its spiritual energy far richer than most places. Mist drifted among the mountains; the scenery was beautiful and serene. The only drawback was the sheer number of people, which greatly marred the natural beauty.

Originally, the Luo Yun Sect had over a thousand disciples. After merging with the Supreme Demon Sect’s disciples who’d moved from the marketplace, the numbers swelled toward three thousand, not to mention the tens of thousands of mortal servants and laborers from the original Luo Yun Sect.

This was entirely different from the cultivation environment of Mount Shu. Even the Five Platforms Sect, once hailed as the greatest unorthodox school, had, counting patriarchs, elders, and all second- and third-generation disciples, barely a hundred people. Most cultivated in their own mountain retreats and rarely gathered at Five Platforms.

He didn’t like the crowds everywhere, but there was nothing to be done—it was his own choice.

After enjoying the mountain breeze for a while, his mood eased a little. Chen Yang returned to the Heavenly Demon Hall, intending to continue his research into this world’s cultivation methods, hoping for a sudden flash of insight.

“Sect Leader, the Yin Yang Sect and Heavenly Jade Sect have sent word—they’ll visit in three days.”

He’d just returned when someone delivered this report. With so many disciples, Chen Yang couldn’t remember their names; he vaguely recalled this one was a disciple of one of Luo Yun Sect’s former Purple Mansion elders.

“Cowards, still putting on airs,” Chen Yang said with a wry smile, waving the disciple away.

“Why not just take over both the Yin Yang Sect and Heavenly Jade Sect?” he mused, rubbing his clean-shaven chin as a wicked thought arose. But after a moment’s consideration, he dismissed it.

Not out of sudden benevolence, but because he felt he already had enough manpower. These sects, some with centuries or even a millennium of history, had developed their own intelligence networks. He could seize their territory and disciples, but not the web of connections built up over centuries.

Since he already had enough people, acquiring more would be of little use. Better to let those sects remain, using their networks to gather information on spiritual herbs for him.

To achieve that, of course, he would have to maintain absolute dominance.