Chapter Twenty-Six: The Demon of Corpses Lurking in All Directions

High above the Dead Valley, Yu Tianyang and Lu Xuanji sat atop a drifting cloud. Yu Tianyang’s gaze was fixed on the east, prompting Lu Xuanji to ask, unable to contain his curiosity, “Senior brother, what are you looking at?”

“Nothing much, just pondering the matter of the Qi Refiners,” Yu Tianyang mused, his eyes lingering on the distant horizon. “Qi Refiners truly have it better than us Mystic Cultivators.”

“They may not be bound by the cycles of karma, but their tribulations are enough to keep them busy,” Lu Xuanji replied dismissively. “We only need to slay three demon cultivators when the Immortal Slaughter Tribulation comes. Frankly, our path is easier. After one slaughter, we enjoy fifteen hundred years of freedom. For those with talent and wisdom, ascending in a thousand years isn’t out of reach. That way, we needn’t worry about the tribulation at all.”

The demonic path was notorious for its evil deeds, while the mystic sects prided themselves on righteousness, feeling no qualms about slaying demons. The demon cultivators, for their part, cared little for the lives they took. Thus, for many, resolving karma through the war between immortals and demons was an efficient approach.

Of course, some preferred to challenge the heavens themselves, finding boundless joy in such struggles.

Yu Tianyang didn’t answer, instead pointing downwards. “Let’s begin.”

Lu Xuanji formed hand seals, stirring the celestial phenomena. In the blazing sun, golden rays flickered. In the distance, eight groups responded, each waving rain-summoning banners and red dragon pennants.

Ji Feichen waved his great banner: once for wind, twice for clouds, thrice for thunder. Dark clouds revolved around him; he pointed, commanding, “Go!”

The dense clouds coalesced, drifting overhead, while three spiritual clouds in the distance resonated in harmony. All four clouds, transformed by rain banners, drew the essence of water from rivers and lakes, conjuring rain to blanket a thousand miles.

A thousand miles—such vastness! Ji Feichen’s own power could never accomplish this alone.

Li Jingxun and Tu Shan assisted him; the three, sweating profusely, barely managed to join forces with the other groups to weave mist across the sky.

Then, four red dragons soared, weaving in and out of the clouds, fire and steam mingling, finally forming a vast canopy overhead.

Within that cloud canopy, water and fire balanced, harmonizing yin and yang. Vital energy surged from all directions, dispelling the valley's deathly aura.

Earth as coffin, clouds as cover—eight groups united to transform the thousand-mile region into a gigantic living coffin, tightly sealing the Dead Valley.

Life encircled death: the valley within this coffin became the inner chamber, brimming with energy yet shrouded in lethal force.

In the Dead Valley, the drought demon, who cultivated Qi through breath, sensed something amiss. He poked his head out, first seeing the cloud canopy and auspicious clouds rolling, the harmony of heaven and earth, then noticed the two figures standing above.

“Are they from the Mystic Sect?” He scrutinized their protective immortal light, mumbling, “Only disciples from the Sect of Morality like to meddle.”

The Sect of Morality wielded great influence, making the drought demon reluctant to show himself. But seeing the two perform Daoist arts, he could no longer sit still.

Yu Tianyang manipulated the Taiji, summoning the yin-yang energies to form the Taiji diagram. “Yang is not Dao, nor is yin; the Dao lies between them.” The immortal, wielding a jade sword, radiated colorful spiritual light, runes emerging from the blade.

The Sect of Morality cultivated the “True Classic of Morality”; every immortal’s artifact was forged according to the Dao described therein. Yu Tianyang’s jade sword was his life artifact, refined with the five thousand truths from the classic, condensed into three thousand Dao runes, embodying the principle of Taiji and yin-yang.

“Dao is principle; yin-yang is energy. Principle stands not without energy; energy acts not without principle.” Under Yu Tianyang’s command, water and fire from all directions converged. The essence of water and fire gathered around him, forming pure yin and pure yang, merging into primordial energy, seeking the mysterious aperture, refining the supreme Daoist pill.

Beside him, Lu Xuanji used the art of “Piercing Acupoints and Seeking Apertures” to lock the Dead Valley, intending to turn it into the mysterious aperture for the birth of a Golden Core.

“They’re trying to refine me into a Golden Core!” The drought demon, no stranger to cultivation, had once found the Heavenly Corpse Sect's method for cultivating drought demons. Yet his true nature was that of a mystic feather cultivator, and he recognized their tactics.

“Heaven and earth as furnace, creation as craftsman. These two have turned a thousand miles into a cauldron, using the Dead Valley as the mysterious aperture.”

What is the mysterious aperture?

It is the gateway of yin-yang, movement and stillness, being and non-being, life and death, reality and illusion.

In practical terms, it’s the spiritual acupoint within the body where the Golden Core is formed.

Metaphorically, it’s the moment when a cultivator perceives the Dao—a flash of inspiration, an opening to the mysteries. If one seizes this subtlety, the Dao may be attained.

“Profound upon profound, the gate to all mysteries.” Behind Lu Xuanji, a portal materialized—his life artifact, known as the “Nine Aperture Mystic Gate.”

When the gate opened, mystic energy flowed; Lu Xuanji treated the Dead Valley as the aperture, regarding the drought demon as the manifestation of the Dao, intending to refine him into a Golden Core within the valley.

Even if the drought demon hid, he could not escape the fate of being refined and perishing.

Unable to endure, the drought demon felt the surge of vital energy flooding the Dead Valley, the power of yin-yang distinguishing life from death. His soles burned, sweat beaded on his brow, turning from death toward life, showing signs of the living. A strand of true nature inside him began to stir, nearly dragging his spirit into the vital energy to willingly become a Daoist Golden Core.

“Enough!” Enraged, the drought demon leapt from the valley. “I bear no grudge against your Sect of Morality! Why must you torment me with this pill-refining art?”

Yu Tianyang paused, his jade sword cold and unyielding. “You turned a thousand miles to desolation—is this your doing?”

“Zombies rampage, poisonous fire spreads—is this your doing?”

“Disrupting seasons, burning the land—is this your doing?”

The drought demon was speechless, then retorted, “I am a drought demon—not part of heaven or earth, not bound to yin-yang or the five elements, not subject to cosmic law, nor to morality. You people of the Sect of Morality are merely keepers of the Dao; what right do you have to meddle in my affairs? With that so-called classic, you dare interfere in my drought demon Dao? Be wise and leave, or I’ll turn you all into puppets!”

Yu Tianyang snorted coldly, instantly launching an attack. His temperament was fierce, feared by the demonic sects.

The jade sword stirred thunder; lightning sprayed forth like serpents. Yu Tianyang flew down, engaging the drought demon in battle.

At first, the drought demon panicked, then spat out demonic fire—crimson flames mixed with black smoke, a poison fire born of earth, nurtured within him, lethal upon contact.

“Well done!” Seeing the demon fire, Lu Xuanji shook his sleeve, sending three rays of red light to intercept it.

The red light became three golden pellets, exploding with the demon fire, brilliant radiance spreading over the Dead Valley, dazzling the drought demon.

This was the Great Sun Golden Light, refined by Lu Xuanji from the essence of solar fire, a bane to evil.

The true fire of the sun and the poison fire of earth neutralized, transforming into invisible glazed fire burning between heaven and earth.

Unperturbed, Lu Xuanji produced a red copper flask, twin-handled and ancient in appearance. With a gentle motion, he summoned a radiance from within to collect all the flames.

“My glazed fire flask was in need of earth fire to activate the three talents—who would have thought today I’d find it?”

Lu Xuanji gathered the flames; Yu Tianyang seized the moment, agile as a dragon, powerful as a tiger, wielding the “Duality Floating Radiance Sword” to strike repeatedly.

Seeing his poison fire taken, the drought demon was shocked; unable to dodge, he was struck by Yu Tianyang, corpse blood spurting, retreating several steps before revealing his true form, wrathful and fierce. “You’re courting death!”

Red-haired, blue-faced, fangs bared, claws sharp as blades—a monstrous creature battled Yu Tianyang.

Its body was as hard as metal; apart from the Duality Floating Radiance Sword, Yu Tianyang’s attacks were ineffective. The two clashed for hundreds of rounds, neither gaining the upper hand.

“Senior brother, move aside!” Lu Xuanji intoned an incantation, sweeping his sleeve, raising a vortex of yin-yang within the Dead Valley. The vortex pulled at both Yu Tianyang and the drought demon, threatening to draw them inside.

Lu Xuanji used heaven and earth as a great furnace, with the Dead Valley as the aperture, refining the Daoist Golden Core. Sensing danger, Yu Tianyang summoned his sword, its yin-yang energies counteracting the pull, allowing him to retreat through the storm.

The drought demon, however, was drawn ever closer to the vortex; no matter his arts, he could not resist the valley’s pull.

Dragged by the gale, his claws left three-inch grooves in the rocks, his feet carved two earthy paths.

“The art of piercing the mystic aperture—I’ve learned it today!” Gritting his teeth, the drought demon transformed into firelight, using the Eight Coffin Formation to escape the valley, appearing atop another coffin site.

Yu Tianyang transformed into wind, joining Lu Xuanji, who was sweating profusely. “With your Daoist arts, could you truly refine him to death?”

“If the master were here, perhaps. But my power is limited; I can sustain the divine fire for three or five days, but not for forty-nine. By then, he’d escape, becoming a formidable force. I merely sought to scare him—if we truly fought, we’d surely be wounded,” Lu Xuanji replied, withdrawing his power.

The two then pursued the drought demon by their senses.

Having left the Dead Valley, the drought demon first arrived at Jingxuan’s location.

“Monster, taste my sword!” Jingxuan was ready, and as the drought demon arrived, he summoned the Nine Radiance Divine Sword. Nine mystic rays, like rings and chains, surrounded the demon.

Radiant light soared, encircling his head, neck, chest, waist, limbs, with one ray targeting his heart.

The drought demon was terrified. “Is this the Nine Radiance Demon-Slaying Curse of the Supreme Purity Sect?” He hastily spat poison fire, escaping the radiance’s grasp, fleeing to the next area.

He fled swiftly; Jingxuan only managed to strike his back, leaving a wound. Then he stopped, sighing, “The master granted me the Nine Radiance Divine Sword—if he wielded it himself, this mere drought demon would be no concern.”

The drought demon entered the next area, seeing overhead the Seven-Treasure Parasol inscribed with jade characters of morality—Zhang Yuanchu’s life artifact, also condensed from the True Classic of Morality.

The parasol blocked the sky, barring his path. Seeing Yu and Lu pursuing behind, the demon immediately darted to another coffin site.

There, Master Xu and a group of wandering cultivators resided. As the drought demon approached, he sensed a powerful aura.

“Is there a human immortal here?” He panicked, fleeing again.

After he left, Master Xu withdrew his power, his eyes gleaming as he mused, “My Lingxiao True Talisman, simulating the aura of a human immortal, is truly effective. Driving away the drought demon for the third time, my moment of Dao attainment is near.”

Suddenly, inspiration struck him—a flash of spiritual insight. In one breath, his mystic aperture opened, crossing into the realm of human immortality. Around him, dragons and tigers appeared, the Golden Core formed, the Lingxiao True Talisman entered his brow, manifesting a profound art.

The Lingxiao True Talisman was an ancient cultivator’s legacy. As Master Xu escaped the drought demon’s tribulation thrice, he automatically inherited this legacy, attaining the immortal fruit.

The drought demon, fleeing blindly, left Master Xu’s area and arrived at the territory of the Chongxu Dao.

Seeing no human immortals here, the demon smiled with relief. The two Chongxu Daoists smiled back. One performed a great art; a three-foot radiance shone from his forehead, within which a divine figure appeared—the Ghost Immortal art.

The Chongxu Dao’s fundamental doctrine held: “Spirit is of heaven; bones of earth. Heaven’s essence disperses, earth’s gathers. Spirit leaves form, each returns to its truth—thus, ghosts.” By refining mystic energy into the form of ghosts and gods, they possessed unique methods.

Ghost Immortals, forged of spirit, were especially effective against drought demons, whose magic relied on corpses. Had the Chongxu Daoists’ cultivation been deeper, a single human immortal would have easily subdued the demon.

The drought demon ground his teeth, resenting these disciples’ endless tricks. “These major sect disciples are truly hateful. When I forge my supreme demon body, I’ll settle scores—turn the gates of the Sect of Morality and Chongxu Dao into seas of fire and barren lands!”

At last, the drought demon fled eastward—where Ji Feichen and his companions stood guard.

The east, the Palace of Thunder, symbol of wood and vitality.

Lu Xuanji had instructed Li Jingxun to join Ji Feichen and Tu Shan in forging the “Thousand Thunder Coffin.”

Ji Feichen summoned the Divine Water Thunder, Tu Shan brought the Formless Divine Thunder, while Li Jingxun wielded the Supreme Purity Divine Thunder. Together, they forged the Thousand Thunder Coffin, its wood encircled by a thousand bolts of lightning. When the drought demon arrived, they trapped him within.

“You two restrain the coffin; I shall use the Five Thunder True Art to slay him,” Li Jingxun announced, raising the Golden Book of Morality. Within, a page of talismans documented the “Five Thunder True Art.”

Li Jingxun’s artifact was remarkable, sharing its origin with her fellow sect members—born of the True Classic of Morality. Beyond the classic, she condensed all her talismanic knowledge into a spiritual treasure, inscribed in the golden book. When activated, the talismans automatically unleashed their effects. The cloud crane she once summoned was transformed from the book.

She invoked the Five Thunder True Art; five spheres of silver lightning orbited the coffin, each bolt infused with upright energy, a bane to evil.

The drought demon sensed death approaching, repeatedly crashing into the coffin. Each assault was met with injury from the Formless Divine Thunder and the Divine Water Thunder within.

His cries echoed within the coffin; Li Jingxun’s expression turned solemn, raising her hand to strike.

“Friends, spare him!”

Suddenly, an old man hurried over from afar. Clad in immortal robes and treasured attire, wielding a bamboo staff, he called anxiously, “This wretch is deeply connected to me—I beg you, spare him!”