Saving That Villainous Demon Lord - Chapter 1

Lin Yan was jolted awake by the biting cold.

Beyond the freezing air, there was the pain. A dull, heavy ache radiated from his chest, and every breath he took felt like it was tearing through his lungs, leaving a metallic, bloody taste in his mouth.

He struggled to open his eyes.

All he could see was a world of blinding white. Snowflakes drifted onto his eyelashes, quickly melting into icy droplets that traced cold paths down the corners of his eyes.

He tried to move his fingers, only to feel the unyielding, frigid surface of solid rock beneath them.

Not far away, several corpses lay scattered in the snow. They were clad in dusty grey Daoist robes, their lives long since extinguished. These were the former sect-mates of the body he now inhabited.

Fragments of memory began to surge into his mind.

He had transmigrated.

This was the world of the novel The Nine Heavens Demon Sovereign. He had become a disciple of a minor sect that had just been wiped out, a character so insignificant he didn’t even have a name.

“Xie Xuechen, you have nowhere left to run.”

A voice pierced through the howling wind and snow, crashing into Lin Yan’s eardrums. It sounded righteous and authoritative, heavy with spiritual pressure.

Lin Yan snapped into full alertness. Ignoring the agonizing pain wracking his body, he propped himself up with his elbows and painfully lifted his head.

About thirty feet ahead, two groups were locked in a standoff.

On the left was a crowd of cultivators dressed in blue and white robes. Each held a longsword, the blades shimmering with spiritual light. The man leading them was tall and elegant, with sharp brows and bright eyes, radiating a sense of noble integrity.

Feng Haoran.

The protagonist of the original story and the leader of the younger generation of the righteous path.

Standing alone at the very edge of the cliff was a single figure. He was dressed in white, but that white was now soaked through with blood, standing out with startling crimson intensity against the snow.

His long hair hung loose and disheveled, and his silhouette looked so fragile it seemed as if a gust of wind might blow him away. Yet, he stood perfectly straight.

He held a broken sword in his hand, its tip pointing toward the ground. Blood snaked down the length of the blade, dripping steadily onto the pristine white snow.

Drip. Drip.

That was Xie Xuechen.

The villain of the book who had been betrayed by his sect, despised by the world, and was destined to meet an end where even his soul would be pulverized.

Lin Yan’s heart constricted sharply.

He had just finished reading this novel before he transmigrated. This was the exact chapter where Xie Xuechen was cornered at Broken Cloud Cliff. According to the plot, Xie Xuechen would choose to self-detonate his golden core to protect his demonic bone, opting for a “fake death” by jumping off the cliff.

[If Xie Xuechen detonates his golden core, you, a minor cultivator with almost zero cultivation, will be instantly killed by the blast.]

A mechanical voice interrupted Lin Yan’s thoughts.

Lin Yan froze. Was this the essential “System” for every transmigrator?

[Therefore, Host, your mission is to save the villainous Demon Lord, Xie Xuechen.]

Save the villain?

Fine!

Lin Yan accepted the task instantly. Truth be told, he had actually liked the villain while reading the book.

“Surrender now.”

Feng Haoran took a step forward, his sword letting out a clear, dragon-like hum. “For the sake of your past as a celestial disciple, if you hand over the demonic bone and return to the sect with me for trial, I can guarantee your life.”

Xie Xuechen said nothing.

He slowly lifted his head. His face was so pale it was almost transparent. The corners of his eyes were tinged with a strange redness, and dried blood stained his lips.

He looked at Feng Haoran and suddenly let out a small laugh. There was no warmth in that smile, only endless mockery.

“Guarantee my life?”

His voice was hoarse, sounding like grinding stone. “Feng Haoran, why on earth do you think I would believe the words of hypocrites like you?”

Feng Haoran’s brows furrowed. “Stubborn to the end.”

The righteous cultivators behind him had long lost their patience.

“Senior Brother Feng, why waste words on this demon!”

“His crimes are heavy, he deserves to be executed by everyone!”

“Kill him! Avenge our fallen Daoist brothers!”

Shouts for his blood rose one after another. Dozens of sword auras shot into the sky, churning the swirling snow.

Xie Xuechen stood there, his expression indifferent. He tightened his grip on his broken sword. The exhausted spiritual essence in his body was being forcibly overdrawn.

He didn’t intend to live. Even if he died, he was going to take a few of them down with him.

Lin Yan saw the look of absolute resolution in Xie Xuechen’s eyes.

Oh no, he’s going to blow himself up.

“System, what should I do now?” Lin Yan asked in his mind.

[Host, just act according to your own thoughts. I will assist you from the shadows.]

“What does that mean? Give me a hint, System! Hey, System!”

Lin Yan shouted in his mind for a long time, but there was no response. The System had actually vanished? What was he supposed to do about the mission?

Seeing that the situation on Xie Xuechen’s side had reached a breaking point, Lin Yan had no choice. He gritted his teeth and tried to stand. His legs were so numb from the cold that he couldn’t feel them, and any movement brought a piercing pain.

He took a deep breath, plunged his hands into the snow, and used the biting cold to shock himself into staying conscious.

The sword in Feng Haoran’s hand was already raised.

“Since you are bent on seeking death, don’t blame me for being merciless.”

A massive wave of sword light gathered in the air, carrying a world-destroying momentum as it slashed toward Xie Xuechen at the edge of the cliff.

Xie Xuechen didn’t dodge. The demonic energy within him was surging, and he was just about to detonate his golden core.

At that critical moment, a dusty grey figure suddenly lunged out from the snow.

The figure stumbled and scrambled, running clumsily and nearly falling several times. But he was fast. He was as fast as a moth possessed by a death wish.

In the heartbeat before the sword light could fall, he threw himself in front of Xie Xuechen.

He spread his arms wide. Using his pathetically thin back, he blocked that lethal strike.

“Stop!”

The youth’s voice was distorted by fear, echoing brokenly through the wind and snow.

The sword aura came to a dead stop just three inches from his back. The frigid wind tore through the clothes on his back, slicing several bloody gashes into his skin.

Feng Haoran’s pupils contracted, and he forcibly retracted his spiritual power. The backlash caused his chest to churn with suppressed blood.

“Who are you?!” Feng Haoran shouted sternly.

Lin Yan panted heavily. Cold sweat instantly soaked his back, then turned icy cold. His legs were so weak he could barely stand, yet he remained there with his arms spread wide, shielding the man behind him.

He turned around to face the murderous righteous cultivators.

“You can’t kill him.” Lin Yan’s voice was shaking, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. “He… he was framed.”

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

“Nonsense!”

“Has this kid been bewitched by a demon?”

“Get out of the way! Or we’ll kill you too!”

An ill-tempered cultivator directly summoned a magical treasure, preparing to strike.

“Wait,” Feng Haoran said, raising a hand to stop them. His gaze was like a torch, fixed intently on Lin Yan. “Who are you? Why are you speaking up for this demon?”

Lin Yan swallowed hard. His throat felt as dry as if he had swallowed a handful of sand. He could feel a gaze landing on him from behind. That gaze was colder than the wind and snow, sharper than any sword aura.

Xie Xuechen was looking at him. He was scrutinizing this person who had suddenly jumped out to shield him.

Lin Yan didn’t dare look back. He was afraid that if he did, he would be terrified by those emotionless eyes.

He had to gamble. He had to bet on Feng Haoran’s sense of justice and the righteous path’s concern for their own reputation.

“I… I am a disciple of the Qingyun Sect.” Lin Yan pointed to the corpses on the ground. “Our sect is nearby. We were wiped out last night.”

Feng Haoran glanced at the bodies, his expression softening slightly. “Since you are a victim, you should know even better how cruel this demon is. Why are you still protecting him?”

“He didn’t do it.” Lin Yan lifted his head, looking Feng Haoran directly in the eyes.

He frantically searched through the plot of the original book. Before this siege, there had been a key inciting incident. A righteous elder named Li Changfeng had died a miserable death, and all evidence pointed to Xie Xuechen. But it was actually a frame-up by the mastermind, Daoist Master Xuanqing. The real killer was a Soul-Devouring Beast kept by Xuanqing.

Of course, Lin Yan couldn’t just blurt out Xuanqing’s name. That would be suicide. He could only offer a piece of “evidence” that carried enough weight.

“I know how Elder Li died.” Lin Yan clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “That night, I was just outside the courtyard where Elder Li was murdered.”

Feng Haoran’s expression shifted. “What did you say?”

“I saw it,” Lin Yan lied without blinking, knowing the facts were actually true. “That person had no demonic energy on them. It was… it was a type of monstrous energy. Moreover, when Elder Li died, there were no external wounds on his body, but his soul was shattered. Only one thing can kill someone like that.”

Lin Yan paused, then spoke the name.

“A Soul-Devouring Beast.”

The sound of people gasping for air filled the clearing. The Soul-Devouring Beast was an ancient, malevolent creature that had long since disappeared. If it had truly reappeared, the entire nature of the situation would change completely.

Feng Haoran’s face grew solemn. Elder Li’s body indeed had no external wounds, and his death was suspicious. This fact had been suppressed within the higher-ups of the righteous path, and the public was simply told it was the work of a demonic cultivator.

How did this obscure young disciple know the details so clearly? Could there really be more to the story?