Chapter Fifteen: The Blood Demon Relic
Someone pushed open the door to the chamber.
A burst of sunset light carried a shriveled corpse clad in black robes, dropping it into the palace. The corpse was unnaturally small, barely three feet tall, its eyes sunk deep like two shadowed skulls. Its yellowed skin stretched tightly over the bones, devoid of flesh or blood—there was not a hint of vitality, as if it had been dead for a long time.
“The Demon Lord of the Yellow Springs?” Both the man and the demon exclaimed in unison.
The figure borne in by the glowing light was indeed the Demon Lord of the Yellow Springs. Gone was his former vigor; he was cloaked in dense deathly aura that lingered stubbornly.
“What happened to him?”
Seeing his state, You Sujue felt chills spread through him, as if falling into an icy pit. First, Ying Xiantian had his body shattered, his flesh and vital energy devoured by the monster outside; then, the Demon Lord of the Yellow Springs had been stripped of all his essence, leaving behind a withered, dwarfish corpse.
If two cultivators of the External Scene could be reduced to this, what hope did a mere man and demon have?
“His vital energy has been consumed,” Xu Zhong muttered.
Ying Xiantian, viewing through Xu Zhong’s eyes, said, “Not just his vital energy—his External Scene was harvested as well. It has collapsed, his life force severed, leaving only a flicker of spiritual light chasing the last thread of existence.”
“I didn’t expect him to carry his External Scene with him,” Ying Xiantian remarked bitterly. “The cultivation of a single External Scene cultivator, the innate energy of a small world, all devoured by one being—what a feat.”
He could see that the vital energy and innate force had been drained in an instant. The powers of that demon and god were truly terrifying.
While he reflected, Xu Zhong was deep in thought.
The corpse had not been sealed by the palace’s formations. This meant he was utterly dead.
Yet Ying Xiantian claimed he still had a thread of life!
Suddenly, Xu Zhong felt his scalp tingle, his hair stand on end, a chill at the back of his head. The spiritual energy in each aperture within him began to leap, the miniature figures formed from those apertures frantically moved spiritual energy to defend themselves.
He had no time to cast the Qi-Sealing Art before the daylight before him faded to darkness, leaving him unable to see his own hand.
Then, from the sunken eyes of the Demon Lord, emerald flames began to surge, casting an eerie glow across Xu Zhong’s vision.
Possession!
His last thread of life was bound to Xu Zhong.
The vast spiritual energy within Xu Zhong was summoned forth, but could not keep pace. The Demon Lord, wielding his magic, tore open the portal of the Mud Pill Palace and entered.
As he entered, he saw Ying Xiantian smiling at him.
“You’re here?” asked the Demon Lord, emerald fire streaming from the eyes of his soul, uncanny and vibrant, so unlike his corpse.
“To send you on your way!” Ying Xiantian raised his hand, opened the gate of worlds, and drew in the innate energy. “The Great Yin-Yang Millstone!”
He extracted the sun and moon from his External Scene, layered them together to form a massive millstone.
With one hand, Ying Xiantian seized the Demon Lord’s soul and thrust it into the millstone.
The Demon Lord died silently, offering not a single scream.
Had he been at his peak, he might have resisted; now, with only the faintest spark of spiritual light remaining for possession, resistance was impossible.
His soul was ground to dust, the last glimmer of his External Scene faded utterly.
Ying Xiantian reached out, grasped the final spark of spiritual light from that External Scene, refined it into a grand elixir, and placed it within his own External Scene, mending its collapse.
The crushed soul became a river of sand.
Particles scattered across Xu Zhong’s Mud Pill Palace.
The wind formed by the Seven Souls grew a mouth and swallowed all the sand.
“Though it is but a single spark, it will help you manifest your Three Souls and Seven Spirits,” Ying Xiantian withdrew the millstone, shut the gate of worlds, and sat cross-legged within Xu Zhong’s Mud Pill Palace.
“His fate has changed completely.” As Ying Xiantian acted, he observed Xu Zhong’s countenance: “He was once marked for early death, now his fate is transformed—purple energy fills his brows, noble beyond words. Whoever altered his fate must have paid a great price.”
Ying Xiantian pondered, “It seems his fatal calamity was tied to the Demon Lord of the Yellow Springs. I became the one to resolve it, and thus that person indirectly saved my life as well.”
He felt a lingering fear.
Had Xu Zhong’s fate not been changed, he likely would have died at the hands of the white serpent or the monster.
Such is destiny!
“Now that I have resolved his fatal calamity, his luck grows ever stronger…” Ying Xiantian mused, uncertain.
He was soon distracted by a crackling sound, like fireworks.
He saw blood blooming from the corpse of the Demon Lord, buds unfurling to reveal beads of relics, translucent and flawless, dazzling in the sunlight, radiating myriad colors.
“Blood Demon Relics,” Ying Xiantian remarked in surprise. “He had long prepared for possession, fusing the relics into his spine for cultivation. Yet, in the end, he has made a gift for this young man.”
Following Ying Xiantian’s guidance, Xu Zhong formed a seal and collected the Blood Demon Relics from thirty-six blooming blood lotuses on the Demon Lord’s corpse.
“These are Blood Demon Relics, foundational elixirs for the demonic path. Each pill contains thirty-six potent ingredients, hundreds of rare beast essences. One pill will cleanse your blood; thirty-six will refine the organs, nourish the marrow, and strengthen your foundation.”
According to Ying Xiantian, after fully refining thirty-six Blood Demon Relics, Xu Zhong’s foundation would be elevated to new heights.
“This is much like our Dao Gate’s Heavenly Dragon Gate,” Ying Xiantian continued. “Our Dao Alliance speaks of leaping the Dragon Gate—thirty-six thousand steps to ascend. Ordinary cultivators, upon crossing the Dragon Gate, have their foundation infinitely strengthened, rising from mediocrity to genius in only thirty-six thousand steps.”
The Heavenly Dragon Gate has thirty-six thousand tiers.
Only after traversing them all can one shed mediocrity.
Ying Xiantian recalled his own journey through the Dragon Gate six centuries ago, filled with bittersweet emotion.
But Xu Zhong’s thoughts were more practical.
Holding the Blood Demon Relics, he glanced at You Sujue, intending to share half.
“She is a Qingqiu fox, a demon. Blood Demon Relics are crafted for humans; they are useless to demons, and might even taint her bloodline with the demonic beast essence within,” Ying Xiantian cautioned. “A demon’s talent is tied to its bloodline. Not entirely so, but to transcend it requires great wisdom and courage—to forge one’s own path. Otherwise, one’s strength will always be limited to ancestral bounds.”
Demonic cultivation hinges on bloodline.
As their cultivation deepens, their bloodline strengthens, but never surpasses the source ancestor.
Thus, Xu Zhong felt no guilt and began to consume the Blood Demon Relics.
Powerful medicinal energy surged within him.
His five organs underwent tempering and cleansing, black impurities dripping out, carried by the blood and expelled.
The five organs are most impure.
At the moment of expulsion, You Sujue felt as though she’d fallen into a latrine.
The organs were rapidly purified, washed by vital energy.
At last, they became clear and bright.
He viewed his inner self—the five palace chambers were now immaculate, cobwebs swept away, every inch suffused with spiritual light.
Twelve pills were consumed.
Xu Zhong swallowed twelve more.
These penetrated his blood, seeping into the bones.
First and most important was the spine.
The human spine has twenty-six vertebrae: seven cervical, twelve thoracic, five lumbar, one sacral, and one coccygeal.
The Blood Demon Relics nourished the spine.
A piercing pain made Xu Zhong groan softly, blood seeping from his body, his spine creaking.
Like beans being fried, it crackled crisply.
He gritted his teeth, controlling the relics.
This was unlike ordinary cleansing.
Self-purification risks the spine exploding if one goes astray.
With the Blood Demon Relics, one need only remain conscious—it was quite safe.
Sweat beaded on Xu Zhong’s brow.
He panted heavily, curling himself into a tight ball, like a pangolin facing danger in the wild.
After some time, the pain finally ebbed—or perhaps he’d simply grown used to it.
The ache soon spread to other parts of his body.
Two hours later, every bone in Xu Zhong’s body, except the skull, had been thoroughly cleansed.
His bones gleamed with crystalline purity; his marrow flowed like jade, a great river coursing through him, supporting his frame.
This river revealed its strength—the spine became a mighty dragon.
The coccyx its tail, the cervical vertebrae its head, hidden within the flesh, guarding his vitality.
Xu Zhong sensed his own life.
His lifespan was still long.
Yet at this moment, he constantly felt the passage of life.
Each breath was a countdown.
Life became a measurable value, and he could always feel that value ticking down.
Fear of death naturally arose.
“Well? Can you see your lifespan?” Ying Xiantian asked.
The Fire Star Secret corresponds to the heart.
Its beating is the countdown to death.
Once the Fire Star Secret is opened, one can sense their lifespan directly, feeling the flow of life.
“Normally, each Secret except the Wood Star adds twenty years to a cultivator’s life,” Ying Xiantian calculated. “The Wood Star Secret, with its transformation of vitality, grants a hundred years.”
“In all, the Five Star Realm extends life by two hundred sixty years.”
Two hundred sixty years seems long, but for cultivators who measure their retreats in months and years, it is but a fleeting moment.
Xu Zhong calmed himself, ceased to dwell on his lifespan, and the countdown seemed to vanish from his mind.
His path stretched ahead.
His heart was tranquil, untouched by dust.
“Now that your Fire Star Secret is perfected, you may attempt to open another,” Ying Xiantian was pleased with Xu Zhong’s composure. “You practice the Celestial Star Cycle of the Star Gate—I'm familiar with it. It emphasizes the interplay of the five elements, with two methods: cultivating by generation or by overcoming.”
“Will you open the Metal Star Secret or the Earth Star Secret first?”
Fire overcomes Metal; opening the Metal Star Secret means cultivating by overcoming. Opening Earth means cultivating by generation.
Xu Zhong considered, “I brought no food, and don’t know how long I’ll be here. The Metal Star Secret is best for me.”
The Metal Star Secret allows one to breathe in dew, feed on wind—enabling fasting.
“The Metal Star Secret, then?” Ying Xiantian discerned his thoughts. “A wise choice.”
Xu Zhong recalled the teachings of the Five Star Chapter in the Celestial Star Cycle.
The method for opening the Metal Star Secret was clearly explained.
Just as he began his cultivation, footsteps sounded again outside the door.