Why is the Demon Venerable Like That? - Chapter 3

Lu Yuan suppressed his terrifying thoughts and wordlessly peered at the houses hidden in the darkness. These were no mere buildings; they were rows of predatory beasts lying in wait. They only needed a single command to cast off their masks and devour the innocent.

Rustling sounds began to echo from the surroundings. This was followed by the intermittent creaking of doors being pushed open. In the gaps of the doorways, numerous eyes glowed like ghostly lanterns. The eyes flickered, their spectral light waxing and waning.

Xiao Jingchun retreated several steps, hiding himself among the disciples of the White Jade Capital. He cursed the intelligence failure in his heart. Recently, the White Jade Capital had received several distress signals from towns within the sect’s jurisdiction. The contents of the letters were identical, stating that relatives of merchants had vanished after passing through Lin’an Town.

The intelligence system of the White Jade Capital believed the problem lay within the inn where these people stayed. Their analysis was correct, but the problem was not confined solely to the inn.

Xiao Jingchun squeezed a few words from his throat, “Fire the signal. Request reinforcements!”

Lu Yuan quickly calculated the number of surrounding evil spirits and compared them to his own Foundation Establishment stage cultivation. He sighed, fearing he might truly die on the spot.

Some of the closer spirits grew restless and began to push through the doors with trembling movements. This served as a signal to assemble. Like water bursting through a dam, the spirits flooded into the narrow cobblestone street. In an instant, Lin’an Town became as crowded as a busy marketplace.

The townspeople made gurgling guttural sounds, moving down the street like elderly people with limited mobility. Their faces changed rapidly under the moonlight. The muscles on their cheeks contracted violently, and within seconds, their skin became as parched and shriveled as if it had been dehydrated. Because their skin tightened so drastically, their lips were pulled back into hideous snarls, exposing forest-white teeth.

Lu Yuan felt he could already smell the stench of rot emanating from their throats. Across dozens of meters, the townspeople suddenly stopped moving. They hung their shriveled heads, and the strange sounds in their throats continued unabated.

Something was wrong. They were communicating.

Lu Yuan’s heart sank. These townspeople-turned-spirits, just like the waiter and the shopkeeper before them, possessed consciousness. They were coordinating their movements.

The tall, adult spirits in the front row acted first. Their slow movement had been a ruse, for their actual speed was incredibly fast. In the blink of an eye, they were right in front of the group. The physically weaker spirits in the back row emitted piercing, uncomfortable shrieks. Some cunningly climbed onto the eaves, while others circled to the rear, preparing to wipe out the group of cultivators in one fell swoop.

One townsman leaped from the cobblestones with arms outstretched, displaying a leaping ability impossible for a normal human, then dove down from the heights like a hunting eagle.

Lu Yuan watched the spirit approaching him, its sharp teeth becoming clear in his pupils. Golden light, woven like smoke, flowed rapidly and continuously through Lu Yuan’s eyes.

He shouted in a low voice, “Bujue!”

The blade, Bujue, was filled with anxiety and desperate to protect its master, yet it could not escape its confinement. In its dire state, it released a single strand of blade intent to save its master. That blade intent traversed a hundred miles without losing its momentum, slicing through the night and cutting across the spirits. It pierced through several of them before its power finally waned and came to a stop.

Lu Yuan was also swept back by the force of this energy, coughing up a mouthful of warm blood.

The members of the Fengchi Sect and the White Jade Capital were stunned. Xiao Jingchun initially thought the White Jade Capital’s reinforcements had arrived, but despite looking around, he saw no one.

Shen Xun’an drew his sword to strike the spirits in front of him and called out loudly, “Which senior has come to our aid?”

Xiao Jingchun was in a state of chaos. As a Talisman Cultivator, close-quarters combat was not his strength. He shouted, “Please, Senior, show yourself! If you can lend a hand to help us escape this death trap, the White Jade Capital will surely offer a heavy reward!”

Lu Yuan struggled to move into an obscure corner. His head was spinning, and his vision was blurred. Warm blood seeped from his nose and the corners of his mouth. He forced himself to stay conscious, sealing the God’s Blood that tried to escape his control and forcing it back into dormancy within his meridians.

Hearing the two men calling for a senior to save them, he gave a bitter smile. The senior himself currently found it difficult even to lift a finger, let alone save others.

Countless spirits gradually pushed them into a small, cramped space. Many disciples already lay dead on the ground, their blood mixing with the rainwater from the recent storm and flowing in all directions. The metallic scent of blood carried on the breeze, spreading everywhere.

The spirits were certain of their victory, determined to annihilate the cultivators. At that moment, the moon underwent a strange transformation. It was as if blood had been poured into it, slowly flowing across one of its corners. A surge of malevolent energy struck. It was as small as a water droplet at first, but in an instant, it transformed into an overwhelming force. Under this power, the spirits collapsed to the ground, crawling in agony.

The younger spirits in Lin’an Town wailed piercingly. They did not understand what was happening; they could only express their pain directly. The adults howled, reaching out their hands toward the cultivators in what looked like both a plea and a curse, their forms twisting under the moonlight.

Finally, every person stopped moving. The entire town of Lin’an became a frozen tableau of human tragedy.

The killing intent filled the sky, and the bloody night turned as bright as day. The jade disk in the sky had turned into a blood-red moon. Under this crimson light, everyone’s face appeared sinister and terrifying.

A figure stood suspended in the air, gazing down at everyone with a cold, murderous look. A vast, ocean-like aura pressed chillingly against everyone present. Xiao Jingchun’s body trembled violently. He did not dare to look up, for he had already recognized the newcomer.

Shen Xun’an gripped his scabbard. Immense fear left him unable to form words. If it were only spirits, perhaps they could have lasted until rescue arrived. But if it were him, the situation was far more dire.

Shen Xun’an braced his body and bowed deeply toward the figure, “Sovereign Ling.”

Upon hearing this, Ling Chuandu cast a glance at Shen Xun’an. He stood in mid-air, yet it was as if there were invisible stairs in the void, allowing him to step down. Within a few breaths, he stood before the crowd.

Those who had not recognized him before understood now. The man who had arrived was the co-ruler of the Hundred Territories of the Demon Realm, Ling Chuandu. He was a master who acted entirely according to his own whims. The younger members of the White Jade Capital and the Fengchi Sect gritted their teeth, their bodies stiff with terror.

Ling Chuandu ignored Shen Xun’an and walked straight toward the crowd. The demonic energy around him had not dissipated, and his expression remained blurred. Shen Xun’an did not know what the man intended, but everyone knew that Ling Chuandu was eccentric and made all decisions based on his personal preferences. At this moment, he had not come to save them.

Ling Chuandu stopped in front of Shen Xun’an. His tone was steady and almost cordial, as if he were merely chatting with a junior. “The heavens changed just now. Who was responsible?”

Shen Xun’an was confused by this approach, but he ultimately answered honestly, “This junior does not know.”

Seeing this, Ling Chuandu shifted his gaze to the survivors. His eyes felt like physical weights, pressing down so hard that no one could lift their head. He asked the same question again, but no one answered. The blood moon hung in the sky, and its ominous light threatened to swallow the heavens. It illuminated the despair on everyone’s faces.

“Does truly no one know?” Ling Chuandu spoke very softly and lightly, but Shen Xun’an heard a suffocating chill in his voice. He intended to kill.

Shen Xun’an’s mind raced through a hundred thoughts, but before he could conclude anything, a disciple from the Fengchi Sect pointed a trembling finger toward a corner, “He did it.”

The disciple did not know why Ling Chuandu was looking for that person, but he could sense the ill intent. He did not want to be involved; he only wanted to send this Great Buddha away as quickly as possible.

Shen Xun’an looked in that direction and saw the waste, Senior Brother Lu, huddled in the corner like a dead dog. Shen Xun’an’s pupils contracted, but it was too late to stop it. He cursed this fool in his heart. If one wanted to find a scapegoat, one did not need to pick the weakest-looking one. If Ling Chuandu discovered he had been deceived, everyone would suffer.

Lu Yuan saw the edge of a black robe fall before his eyes. His eyes were filled with fouled blood, and he could not see the person clearly.

“What is your name?” Ling Chuandu asked, his voice carrying an unidentifiable emotion as he looked down at the person in the corner.

The disciple who had pointed him out shouted loudly, “His name is Lu Yuan!”

Indeed, the outer disciple of the Fengchi Sect before them shared the same name as the Leader of the Righteous Path from a hundred years ago, Lu Yuan. The others looked at each other in shock and uncertainty. Everyone had heard the rumor that the relationship between Ling Chuandu and Lu Yuan was extremely hostile. Ling Chuandu had harassed the City of Nine Heavens specifically to desecrate Lu Yuan’s grave and exhume his bones.

The Fengchi Sect disciple thought maliciously that if this name could catch Ling Chuandu’s attention and cause this madman to vent all his rage on Lu Yuan, it would be for the best. After all, it did not matter if this waste died.

Seeing that the usually silent figure remained speechless, the disciple shrieked, “You waste, say something! Do you want us all to die with you?”

Ling Chuandu glanced at him coldly and flicked his sleeve, “Noisy.”

The disciple was thrown by an invisible force, crashing into the ruins. He spat out blood and stopped moving.

Shen Xun’an said anxiously, “Sovereign Ling! The Fengchi Sect has always had no grievances with the Demon Realm. You cannot…”

He stopped mid-sentence because he saw Ling Chuandu pointing his finger toward his own chest, and blue-black demonic energy was already gathered at the fingertip. Meanwhile, Ling Chuandu himself was slowly looking down at Lu Yuan, asking with a cold smile, “Are you Lu Yuan?”

Shen Xun’an froze. His gaze fell on Lu Yuan, who seemed completely unable to move. He prayed that Lu Yuan would quickly say no, but instead, he saw the man prop up his body and look directly at Ling Chuandu.

“I am.” The scent of blood accompanied every word Lu Yuan spoke.

Shen Xun’an did not have time to say anything, for his heart simply sank. Senior Brother Lu had run straight into the line of fire.

Lu Yuan struggled to sit up. Unlike the others, he did not tremble under Ling Chuandu’s pressure. He was simply confused. In his memory, Ling Chuandu was never cruel or murderous, nor was he ever so condescending and shrouded in malevolent energy.

Ling Chuandu looked at the man in silence. The man before him did not lower his head in fear like the others. Instead, he lifted his thin chin and stared at him openly. Dried blood was clotted on his eyelashes, like a blood-red butterfly lightly fluttering its wings.

Without a word, Ling Chuandu suddenly grabbed Lu Yuan’s wrist. He unreasonably forced his own energy into the other man’s body, circulating it through all of Lu Yuan’s meridians. Then, he released the hand with lack of interest, “Foundation Establishment stage?”

His grey eyes held no emotion, yet they made one’s heart turn cold. Suddenly, Ling Chuandu laughed. His smile did not reach his eyes. “If you are truly Lu Yuan, then this Sovereign should call you Senior Brother.”

Lu Yuan was momentarily dazed by the smile. In his memory, his junior brother rarely smiled. Ling Chuandu’s features were not as soft as some men’s, and his brow and eyes were not even as gentle as Lu Yuan’s current body. When he laughed, it was certainly not an act of affection.

Every time Lu Yuan asked, “Junior Brother, why do you not smile? Whether things go well or poorly, why do you always look so miserable?” Ling Chuandu would turn his face away and say, “I do not like to smile.” Then Lu Yuan would inevitably be mischievous and pinch his cheeks to try and force a smile. The result was always Lu Yuan being chased through three streets.

Now he had his wish, but it brought him no joy. The air was so cold that Lu Yuan’s heart contracted violently. The taste of blood surged in his mouth, stinging his eyes until they turned red. A suffocating silence spread.

Suddenly, Ling Chuandu’s smile vanished. His expression turned cold, and his voice went hoarse as he spoke each word with deliberate weight:

“As if you are worthy.”