Chapter Forty-Eight: The Demon Within

A glare shot toward the Vermilion Bird, and in that instant, it vanished, endless starlight streaming across the sky, shining brilliantly—yet soon swallowed by sunlight.

But those eyes did not immediately disperse, nor did they once again overturn day and night. They simply cast their gaze downward.

With just a glance, the grand formation shattered.

And the gaze continued to descend, settling on the Hundred-Eyed Lord.

In a heartbeat, the Hundred-Eyed Lord let out a miserable scream as blood began to seep from each of his forty-eight eyes. He tried to react, but the next instant, he slipped away into the void.

Immediately after, a powerful spiritual sense manifested in the air.

“It’s the Elder of the Heavenly River from the Underworld!” Dun Xuan recognized the figure.

The Elder of the Heavenly River suddenly stopped in midair and looked down.

Countless Nightmare Fiends hurriedly abandoned their bodies, scrambling and crawling into the spirit shrines.

“Hmph!” The Elder of the Heavenly River snorted coldly.

The sky thundered, celestial lightning rolling, and all things fell silent in dread. Some Nightmare Fiends, who failed to reach the shrines in time, suddenly had arcs of lightning burst forth from within them; the crackling light shattered them, consigning them to oblivion.

His manifested consciousness conjured a mirror from who knew where.

“Truth cannot be feigned, and falsehood cannot become truth. Step beneath the Xuantian Mirror, and your reality will reveal itself.”

He hurled the mirror down.

It hovered above the crowd.

“One by one, come forward,” the Elder commanded, forsaking the pursuit of the mastermind to remain behind. These were, after all, the young elites of many clans—if they had not been possessed, all would be well; but should any have been, letting them leave would invite untold trouble.

“I’ve heard that the Underworld borders the River of Forgetfulness, and the Elder of the Heavenly River is a being half-divine, half-ghost. This Xuantian Mirror might carry a trace of Fengdu’s law and can reflect our very souls,” Crown Prince Zhu Chen mused calmly after a moment’s thought.

“Not only that,” Dun Xuan added, evidently knowledgeable about the mirror. “I once heard the elders say that the Xuantian Mirror is a counterpart to the Book of Life and Death, Fengdu’s greatest treasure—it can reveal a person’s past and present lives.”

As they quietly discussed, Lingguang noticed something amiss with Xu Zhong, who had kept his head bowed, a hint of panic in his demeanor.

“Fellow Daoist Xu Zhong, what’s wrong?” she asked.

At the sound of her voice, Zhu Chen and Dun Xuan finally turned to look.

“I’m fine!” Xu Zhong replied, panic flickering in his eyes.

He was clearly nervous.

“If you’re fine, then all is well,” Zhu Chen began, about to say more before Dun Xuan interrupted.

“His state is not right—his nerves are taut. I fear he hasn’t recovered from the influence of his inner demon.”

“If you mention the inner demon now, it may well reawaken and cloud his mind again.”

Self-deception often serves as the best means of self-regulation.

So Zhu Chen held his peace.

“Wretched creature!”

The Elder of the Heavenly River’s eyes blazed with fury as he struck without hesitation.

With a light tap of his finger downward—

Boom!

A muffled sound resounded.

In an instant, countless grains of dust poured from the orifices—eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and navel—of a certain alchemist, until only a human skin lay upon the sea of grass.

A gentle breeze lifted the skin, which the Elder swept up and stored away.

More alchemists tried to flee.

But under the Elder of the Heavenly River’s watchful eyes, how could any escape?

One by one, they were reduced to mere skins.

Eighteen in total.

Including the previous four,

Out of a hundred and sixty-two people, at least twenty-two were Nightmare Fiends masquerading in human skin.

For a moment, the crowd was filled with shock and murmurs.

Gradually, a hush fell.

But the Elder of the Heavenly River had no intention of withdrawing the Xuantian Mirror.

One after another, people passed beneath its gaze.

Meanwhile, from afar, those from other formations began to make their way over.

“It’s our turn,” Zhu Chen said, patting Xu Zhong on the shoulder.

Xu Zhong kept his head down, staring at their heels.

“His inner demon seems connected to whatever is above us,” Zhu Chen communicated silently, pointing skyward.

“I wonder what’s up there that could provoke such a demon in him,” Dun Xuan replied, shaking his head, understanding Zhu Chen’s implication.

He had only shared his perspective—whatever others saw or grasped remained unknown to him.

Boom!

Another muffled thud.

Suddenly, a human skin floated into the air.

Dun Xuan recognized the man—it was the alchemist who had first responded to him, the one who represented the Ghost Constellation among the southern seven.

“He had a soul,” said Lingguang, her eyes never leaving the Xuantian Mirror.

She had seen him approach the mirror, where first his soul appeared, identical to his living self, and then a different undying spirit emerged—one that did not resemble him.

A soul can be refined, but the undying spirit cannot.

“That wasn’t his soul, but he could refine a soul into his likeness.”

Earlier, four people had died in the grand formation.

One was exposed and killed on the spot, and his accomplices perished at the hands of Crown Prince Zhu Chen.

It would seem, then, that not all whom Zhu Chen slew were Nightmare Fiends.

“He blended with the group of seven, perhaps to win our trust,” Zhu Chen said. “That would make it easier for them to escape the Grass Sea of Nightmare Fiends.”

“There are surely more like him,” Dun Xuan remarked.

As if to confirm his suspicion, another of the seven was killed beneath the Xuantian Mirror.

“They are not ignorant, but clever and daring—true gamblers,” Zhu Chen marveled.

Lingguang stepped beneath the Xuantian Mirror.

A golden-winged Vermilion Bird appeared in the glass, and then her undying spirit took on the same form.

She passed through unscathed.

Next came Zhu Chen and Dun Xuan.

Beneath the Xuantian Mirror,

Xu Zhong stood rooted to the spot.

The mirror reflected his soul—solid and substantial, yet wreathed in wisps of black smoke.

These wisps seemed alive, like miniature Xu Zhongs, leaping and scampering atop his soul, covering his eyes, pinching his nose, blocking his ears and mouth—leaving him blind, deaf, unable to smell or speak.

This was the inner demon.

The inner demon is, in essence, self-doubt, self-fear, a confusion of self-knowledge—demons born of one’s own nature.

It is another self entirely.

What appeared beneath the Xuantian Mirror was Xu Zhong blinding and deafening himself.

To sever the inner demon is, in a sense, to sever oneself.

It requires extraordinary will and wisdom.

“See your true heart and nature!” The Elder of the Heavenly River spoke, his voice resonating in Xu Zhong’s ears like a great bell, buzzing and echoing.

It was as if thunder crashed at his ear, the music of the Way resounding within.

Yet the next moment, Xu Zhong remained lost, the Elder’s words having no effect.

“Hm?” The Elder had only meant to offer casual guidance but, seeing the depth of Xu Zhong’s affliction, looked at him more closely.

“His obsession runs deep.”

His gaze penetrated to the very core of Xu Zhong’s soul, where countless inner demons whispered their secret, ghostly words.

“The music of the Way cannot save him.”

So the Elder judged.

But his curiosity only deepened.

He cast a secret spell.

Unseen by any, he drew a wisp of black smoke from Xu Zhong.

As a spiritual manifestation, akin to a soul himself, he absorbed it instantly.

At once, an inner demon manifested.

A nameless terror arose in his heart.

A terror without source—or rather, it could have come from anywhere in the world.

The Elder’s heart skipped a beat.

To think that the inner demon of a mere Fifth Luminary alchemist could affect him!

Decisively, he severed the wisp of black smoke.

In that instant, a gaze from the heavens fell upon him.

He looked up, dazed.

He saw a vast, colossal figure standing in the sky, innumerable white threads streaming toward it, gathered in its grasp.

It manipulated those threads, and with them, all living beings below.

“The Way of Heaven?” The sensation was inexplicable.

Yet with its appearance, whether known or unknown, seen or unseen, all knowledge of it surfaced in the mind.

The Elder understood the source of his terror.

Even after he completely eradicated that wisp of the inner demon, the fear within did not recede.

He knew whence it came.

The heavens.

He tried to raise his head.

But his body refused.

At that moment, body and mind were split asunder.

With great magic, he forced his body to obey.

He looked up, and beheld the sky.

The fear in his heart vanished.

Meanwhile, Xu Zhong had already passed through the Xuantian Mirror.

He stood silently behind Zhu Chen and Dun Xuan, motionless, head bowed.

“What has he been through, to give birth to such demons?”

Inner demons never arise from nothing; there is always a cause.

It was only then that he noticed several skins at the base of the Xuantian Mirror, reeking of the pure fire of the sun.

“It seems I was deeply affected earlier.”

Crown Prince Zhu Chen now saw the Elder of the Heavenly River had returned to normal, and withdrew his own treasure.

Zhu Chen turned to the last four.

They were the flag bearers.

The four stepped forward without hesitation.

Their souls appeared—nothing amiss.

Then their undying spirits manifested.

“How could this be?” Zhu Chen’s heart leapt.

“What are they curious about?” Dun Xuan noticed his change in expression.

Boom!

The first flag bearer beneath the mirror was struck down.

The other three tried to flee, but were swiftly executed.

Their skins were gathered away.

“The formation was under the Nightmare Fiends’ control from the start!” Zhu Chen swallowed hard.

All four flag bearers had been Nightmare Fiends in human disguise.

They had volunteered to raise the banners, call their fellows, and offer refuge to the alchemists.

Who would have suspected them?

They were those most trusted at the beginning.

“Thirty-three Nightmare Fiends!” Zhu Chen counted, horror-stricken. “Among these, twenty-nine were feeders, choosing their prey; four were organizers, arranging the feast!”

No wonder no one could tell how those four had died.

Dun Xuan was plunged into deeper terror, recalling the curiosity and puzzlement on the faces of the four Nightmare Fiends at the end.

They had witnessed many of their kind exposed and slain, yet never tried to escape. Perhaps they had seen one of their own succeed.

“Perhaps, among these people, some are not people at all?”