Chapter 25

"Why have you stopped speaking, little lady? We were hoping to snack on a few mortals today, never expecting to stumble upon a cultivator."

The speaker was the demon cultivator wearing the skin of an elderly man. He looked at Xie Chang'an as if she were a gourmet meal, licking his lips with unconcealed greed.

"I told you the ones we met these past few days were low-level trash; their spiritual essence wasn't even enough to fill the gaps in our teeth. Finally, today, we’ve come across someone with skin like ice and bones like jade."

As they spoke, they quietly laid out a formation, trapping Xie Chang'an and Zhu Sanlang within it. Zhu Sanlang remained in a deep slumber, seemingly undisturbed by the commotion.

They could sense that Xie Chang'an’s cultivation was profound, but they were no slouches themselves. Once they fully unleashed their demonic energy, a faint barrier enveloped the ruined temple. Xie Chang'an’s expression shifted slightly as she sensed this power. These two demon cultivators were nearly at the Compound State—a level of advancement for demon cultivators similar to the Sword Heart state for sword cultivators. Though they hadn't reached it yet, they were close.

Why would two near-Compound State demons be hiding in this ruined temple just to kill five bandits?

The question flashed through her mind, but Xie Chang'an did not hesitate. She lunged toward the youth-looking demon, flipped her palm, and brought the Liutian Sword down in a strike so fast the eye could barely follow!

Simultaneously, the elder-looking demon sneered, his hands sprouting sharp claws as he lunged at Xie Chang'an's back, certain that she could not turn to defend herself in time. But the moment he touched her clothes, he felt a sharp pain in his scalp!

A searing agony spread from his scalp to his skull. The demon was horrified, trying to shed his skin in the nick of time, but a flash of sword light locked him in place, rendering him motionless. He looked up in pain, only to see that Xie Chang'an, who should have been in front of him, had appeared behind him!

How could this be?!

"Sword shadows! She has mastered sword shadows!" The youth-looking demon shrieked.

Xie Chang'an had split into thousands of incarnations, a feat similar to the "body-outside-body" technique of Buddhist cultivators, achievable only at the peak of the Sword Immortal realm. The elder demon was sliced cleanly in two by the fierce sword light!

Demon cultivators are notoriously disloyal; seeing his companion perish, the other demon turned and fled without a second thought.

Xie Chang'an did not feel as relaxed as she appeared. After all, she had faced two high-level demon cultivators. As she struck, she faced intense resistance; the demonic energy within the barrier had reached its peak, trapping her and lashing out with thousands of wind blades that left numerous wounds on her body, hindering her from pursuing the other demon.

Just then, Xie Chang'an sensed an extreme threat—indescribable yet swift as lightning. She had no time to react or think, relying purely on instinct to dodge. A sharp pain erupted from her side, and she groaned, falling to the ground.

The ruined temple was a scene of devastation, littered with corpses. The surviving demon had vanished, and both Xie Chang'an and the gravely wounded demon were unconscious.

But there should have been one more living soul.

Footsteps approached Xie Chang'an. The person crouched down, gripped her chin, and lifted her head. A scholar’s face appeared with a mocking smile. Suddenly, sensing something amiss, he quickly let go and retreated!

But it was half a step too late. A sword light streaked past, piercing the scholar’s chest and pinning him to the pillar behind him with terrifying precision.

Xie Chang'an rose from the ground, her shoulder soaked in blood.

"Such fast reflexes, such a sharp sword!" The scholar, unfazed by his predicament, smiled. "I heard your cultivation has reached perfection. You must be the number one in the world, succeeding Zhu Xuanguang?"

He seemed to know her, yet she knew nothing of him. Zhu Sanlang, who had been feigning madness, was finally showing his true colors.

Xie Chang'an looked at him coldly. "Do you have a past grudge with my Chishuang Mountain?"

"No," Zhu Sanlang replied.

"You are not an ordinary cultivator, nor do you seem like a demon cultivator, yet you helped those two demons escape and tried to kill me."

"Then what do you think I am?"

Xie Chang'an spat out the words: "A demon. You are a demon!"

Zhu Sanlang looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"Look at your fingers," she said calmly.

Zhu Sanlang looked down. His right index finger was faintly blue, with strands of black mist leaking from the tip—invisible to mortals, but clear to cultivators.

He realized, "You did something when you had me write on your palm? You suspected me all along?"

"I just rubbed some dragon-scale powder on my hand," Xie Chang'an said.

Dragon-scale powder was colorless and odorless, usually used for medicine or talismans. It had no effect on its own, but it could distinguish between humans, ghosts, demons, and fiends. Yanmen was a place of mixed crowds, and the outskirts were desolate. For a scholar supposedly on his way to an exam to be alone in a dense forest was, in itself, highly suspicious.

Zhu Sanlang, pinned to the pillar and near death, still had the leisure to chat. "You are sharp, yet you still fell for the ruse. Were you deceived by this face of mine?"

"That is exactly what I wanted to ask you," Xie Chang'an said coldly. "Why are you disguised as my master?"

Zhu Sanlang teased, "Is it possible that I *am* your master?"

"Impossible," Xie Chang'an replied instantly.

Seeing his cunning, she knew she would get no answers. Her fingers moved, intending to execute the demon on the spot—but Zhu Sanlang let out a long laugh, and the sword light pinning him suddenly vanished!

No, he himself dissolved into black mist and disappeared before her eyes, escaping even the Liutian Sword.

"Don't be so certain, my dear pupil. I hope you can make it to this feast!"

An external incarnation! This was a profound and terrifying demon.

Xie Chang'an’s expression shifted. As she pondered his words, her heart sank. A feast... did he mean Fuguang Mountain?

She had intended to stay in Lihua Town to gather clues, but she hadn't even arrived before making such a shocking discovery. Not only were there demon cultivators, but a demon lord had appeared as well. It had been years since such a powerful demon, capable of manipulating human hearts like clouds and rain, had emerged.

Demons and monsters were rampant, and strange phenomena were everywhere, as if they had broken free from a long-sealed cage. Something was wrong. A vague thought flickered in her mind, feeling like a dream, but she could not dwell on it.

Xie Chang'an rushed to Lihua Town that night, only to find the teleportation formation to Fuguang Mountain destroyed. The destruction was thorough; the perpetrator must have been a powerhouse of immense cultivation. With the formation gone, Fuguang Mountain was no longer safe.

She avoided the front gate and the main path, bypassing the mountain from the back, moving silently like a shooting star. The path was completely unobstructed. That was the greatest problem of all. Fuguang Mountain was one of the world's premier sects; it should have been protected by arrays and patrols, even in the back mountains. But there was nothing—it felt like any ordinary mountain.

And there was the faint scent of blood. It started light, but grew thicker as she ascended. Beyond the blood was a foul, pungent stench—the same one she had smelled in the ruined temple.

She found the first corpse: a Fuguang Mountain disciple, face down. When she turned him over, he was bleeding from all seven orifices, his throat slit—not by a sword or ordinary weapon. She sprinkled dragon-scale powder, revealing a mixture of blue and black mist.

Blue for demons, black for fiends. A gathering of monsters, indeed.

She moved quickly, searching for disciples of Chishuang Mountain among the dead. There were none yet, but they could still be lost on the mountain. As she approached the peak, the pressure intensified. The air was filled with a chaotic mixture of spiritual energies.

She realized the barrier hadn't vanished; it had been artificially constricted, as if to trap something inside. The divine palace at the peak had its eaves shorn off. That palace had been built by the sect's founder and reinforced with spiritual power; even ten grandmaster-level experts couldn't have damaged it so severely. The intensity of the battle was clear.

Dozens of cultivators lay scattered across the ground—some familiar, some strangers. She even saw Zhe Er and Yu Chunshan, their faces covered in blood, already lifeless. It was a sea of corpses, a tragic sight. The "Hundred Battles Mountain Competition," intended to gather the world's talents, had turned into a feast of slaughter for demons and fiends.

She drew her Liutian Sword and walked toward the vortex of energy at the peak.

A standoff was underway. Four or five people stood in a circle, looking as if they were facing a great enemy. In the center was a single person, trapped within the compressed barrier that had once covered the entire mountain. The figure sat on the ground with one leg drawn up, head bowed, face hidden by disheveled hair.

Xie Chang'an recognized the figures surrounding him: Sect Leader Lin Mengdu, his disciple Monk Wenqin, Master Zhuosu of Beizhu Mountain, Lord Biyang of Nanyue Cave, and a Zen master from the Vermillion Bird Terrace. These were the world's few remaining Sword Immortal-level experts, gathered to deal with the person in the barrier.

Monk Wenqin spotted Xie Chang'an first. Instead of relief at the arrival of reinforcements, his face paled. Xie Chang'an noticed, but before she could think, Master Zhuosu spoke loudly:

"Sect Leader Lin, I believe we should inform Chishuang Mountain. They have many experts; if they can assist, our chances of winning will increase."

Lin Mengdu glanced at Xie Chang'an and said flatly, "They are already here."

Xie Chang'an walked forward. "Xie Chang'an of Chishuang Mountain has arrived late. May I ask the current situation?"

The group looked exhausted, clearly having fought a fierce battle, yet no one answered immediately, as if they were wary. Finally, Zen Master Huijue of the Vermillion Bird Terrace spoke, explaining the situation:

A few days ago, on the eve of the competition, demon cultivators disguised as participants infiltrated the mountain. They were Compound State cultivators who killed many before Fuguang Mountain could seal the sect. During the purge, they discovered not only demons but the traces of a Demon Lord. The Demon Lord had hidden among mortals, quieter and more insidious than any demon, lurking in the cracks of the human heart.

The sect descended into chaos, with cultivators suspecting and killing one another. Many disciples, both from Fuguang Mountain and visiting sects, had perished.

The battle had only just ceased when Xie Chang'an arrived. She was too late—old acquaintances like Zhe Er and Yu Chunshan were dead, and Cao Sui was missing. It was the darkest hour for the sects of the world.

The remaining experts had fought for days and nights to finally corner and trap the Demon Lord. Fearing the demon might have a final ace up his sleeve, they dared not break the barrier to finish him off, leading to this stalemate.

Xie Chang'an nodded. "Since the Demon Lord is trapped, your hard work has paid off. Now, we must search for any remaining traces of demons to prevent them from possessing others. As for this Demon Lord—since you haven't moved, is there a difficulty?"

Zen Master Huijue pressed his palms together. "The barrier is the sect’s protective array. Sect Leader Lin had to shrink it to its limit to trap him. The Demon Lord’s cultivation is unfathomable; if he recovers, he might break through, and all our efforts would be in vain."

Xie Chang'an understood. They couldn't kill him, but they couldn't let him go.

"What if you add me?" she asked slowly. "My Sword Immortal state is stable; I should be able to help."

Despite the astonishment of the group, Xie Chang'an remained humble. A perfected Sword Immortal state was no small help—most of those present were only at the entry level of the Sword Immortal realm, and Monk Wenqin hadn't even reached it yet.

Before anyone could speak, Monk Wenqin looked at his master, Lin Mengdu, and said, "Many have died on Fuguang Mountain, and your colleague, Chief Cao, is missing. We haven't had time to look for him. Perhaps you should search for your sect members first..."

His words seemed considerate, but Xie Chang'an didn't move; she narrowed her eyes.

"Shut up!" Lin Mengdu snapped, his gaze sharp as a blade. Monk Wenqin immediately fell silent.

"You don't want me here," Xie Chang'an said, pointing her sword at the man in the barrier. "Why? Is it related to him? Or to Cao Sui’s disappearance?"

No one answered.

She sneered, "It seems there is much you are hiding. I saw many corpses on my way up, including my own sect members. Since the culprit is caught, does Chishuang Mountain not have the right to demand an answer?"

The others looked troubled. Lord Biyang and Master Zhuosu exchanged glances, hesitant. Before they could speak, the man in the barrier—previously slumped and gravely wounded—slowly lifted his head. Through his disheveled hair, half a face was revealed.

It was a face Xie Chang'an could never forget.

"Chang'an," the man said.

Unlike the Zhu Sanlang who had used the face to deceive her, the tone and cadence of this man’s voice were achingly familiar. There was no mistake.

Xie Chang'an’s expression changed completely. The man was covered in blood and severely injured, gasping for breath.

He spoke again. "I am not a demon, nor am I possessed. The Demon Lord is outside. He is one of them."

At those words, the expressions of everyone present shifted.