Chapter 54

Lou Xuelin came to a halt. “I need to guard the formation here, so I can only escort you this far. From here on, you all must be careful.”
There were five exits leading from the teleportation array, each one needed a Golden Core cultivator standing guard. Any less and if the array was sabotaged by demonic cultivators, nobody would be able to get home.
They’d known all along it would be like this,
But now, in a monster-ridden, unfamiliar city, their powerful senior wasn’t coming with them, every disciple went from relaxed to tense, just like that.
“You must memorize the locations of all five arrays. If you run into something you can’t handle, just sprint for the nearest one. You have seven days, use this test well, and come back on time.”
Lou Xuelin spelled out every precaution, watching the sect’s top disciples head off, each step taking them further away.
This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. He’d lost count. Every time, the young ones joked and bickered their way out, carefree. Seven days later, they staggered back, bloody, changed.
“Let’s hope, this time, every single one returns safe.”
“How many times have you done this, and you still get sentimental?” someone mocked, not far behind him.
The speaker wore a veil and a long sword at her waist. Her blue Daoist robes marked her as a leader of the Dongxuan Sect, a Golden Core cultivator.
“Don’t tell me you don’t worry at all,” Lou Xuelin replied.
“Worrying doesn’t help. Flowers grown in a greenhouse have to face the frost sometime. This is how they grow,” she said. “Come on, the others are here.”
Lou Xuelin cast one last look after the kids, then turned to leave with her.
The young disciples probably didn’t know, the opening of the array was more than just a trial for the top talents of every sect. There was another, well-kept secret.
The real purpose was trade: a chance to quietly swap rare resources between the two realms.
Ore, spirit herbs, beast bones, hard to come by in the Immortal Spirit Realm, but nothing special here in the Demon Spirit Realm.
And the Demon Spirit Realm desperately needed formation plates, talismans, and artifacts, all things the Immortal Spirit Realm could produce in abundance, thanks to a stable environment and deep heritage.
So, every ten years, the Immortal Spirit Realm spent a fortune to open up the array and, quietly, conduct private trade.
This secret was locked tightly in the hands of the biggest sects and families of both worlds. It was the foundation that kept them powerful, year after year.
The younger disciples still had no clue about the sect’s secrets.
Mu Xue and her group made their way slowly, following the crumbling path deeper into the ruins.
“It’s crazy quiet here. We’ve been walking for ages and haven’t seen a single soul. I’m getting a little jumpy.” Ding Lanlan squeezed Mu Xue’s hand lightly. “Xiao Xue, are you scared?”
Mu Xue glanced at her. “I remember when we were kids, you swore you’d never set foot in the Demon Spirit Realm. Changed your mind, have you?”
“Xiao Xue, do you know? Our Guiyuan Sect takes in new disciples every three years. There are literally millions of Foundation Establishment disciples, but only a handful ever reach the Golden Core stage.” Still holding Mu Xue’s hand, Ding Lanlan strolled down the empty street. “I don’t really get all the intricate paths of cultivation, but I do know this: every single one of those Golden Core seniors has been to the Demon Spirit Realm.”
Mu Xue made a soft sound of agreement. “Is that so?”
Ding Lanlan turned to her. “Xiao Xue, do you want to push further? Become one of the few, to reach the Golden Core?”
Mu Xue looked her straight in the eye. “I do. I want to keep going, as far and as high as I can.”
Ding Lanlan gripped her hand tighter, her eyes shining. “That’s why, even if I’m scared, I still came. This is a rare trial. We’ve got to take it.”
Mu Xue smiled. “No need to be scared. It’s honestly not as terrifying as everyone claims.”
“But seriously, this city is massive. We’ve been walking forever and still haven’t reached the walls.” Ding Lanlan couldn’t hide her awe. “Back home, I’ve never seen anything nearly this big.”
“The Demon Spirit Realm isn’t like the Immortal Spirit Realm. Outside the city walls, it’s nothing but danger. Most mortals here spend their whole lives inside the city, never daring to leave. All production, even farming, is done within these walls.
The cities here are layered, main city, satellite towns, walled enclosures, and sometimes whole underground metropolises.” Mu Xue pointed at a vast stretch of collapsed ground, revealing what must have been an immense subterranean palace. “See over there? That should be the underground palace.”
Ding Lanlan followed her finger. Beneath the yawning chasm, she could just make out winding caverns and interconnected chambers, like a whole world buried below.
“That’s incredible. It’s so grand… Did people really build all that?”
“I heard there are families here in the Demon Spirit Realm who specialize in earth magic. With them around, fortresses and cities can be raised in no time, sturdy, too.” Mu Xue’s tone was calm and matter-of-fact.
But even the sturdiest city can still get wiped away by the mighty monsters and demons that roam this land.
People here have grown used to picking up and starting over. Even the Shimiaojie street she’d once called home was now nothing but ruins.
Just one person, a single lamp, and a tiny puppet, keeping watch over the rubble, waiting for her return.
Mu Xue’s words didn’t just hook Ding Lanlan; the rest of their party found themselves listening intently too.
What was common knowledge to Mu Xue was almost arcane trivia to these Immortal Spirit Realm disciples. Not that there were no books about it, but everyone just assumed that their diligent little junior sister had gone above and beyond in her preparations for this trip.
“Xiao Xue, you’re so thorough.” Ding Lanlan praised her. “No wonder you’re always hauling home piles of books from the market. I need to start taking notes from you.”
Mu Xue, who actually snuck back trashy romance novels on every market trip, coughed awkwardly.
…
Bathed in moonlight, transparent little sprites stretched their slender bodies up from the earth, swaying gently as they soaked in the essence of heaven and earth.
They shimmered like seaweed drifting in a silent tide, glimmering with pale, dreamlike light.
As the sound of human footsteps approached, the timid sprites darted back underground, peeking out with beady eyes to watch these rare outsiders.
Once the strange creatures had passed, they cautiously poked their tiny heads out again, one after the other.
“Look over there, that’s Ziling Jade!” Lin Yin nearly jumped with excitement, pointing at a piece of faint purple crystal at the base of a dirt mound.
Ground Ziling Jade is the catalyst for most pill recipes; pills that would normally take months can be refined in days with a bit of its powder. Every alchemist dreams of having it, but it’s rare as dragon’s teeth in the Immortal Realm.
Finding such a large chunk here was beyond belief.
As someone who specialized in pill-forging, Lin Yin was over the moon.
She ran towards the tall grass, skirt swirling, causing the luminous sprites on either side to flee and retreat into the earth.
Delighted, Lin Yin scooped up the purple gem, accidentally revealing a hole about the size of her palm in the mound behind it.
A tiny being, maybe a few inches tall, stuck his head out of the hole. He glanced around, then planted his hands on his hips and glared furiously at Lin Yin, hollering,
“Where did these humans come from? So rude! Give us back our mountain gate!”
Lin Yin just stared, frozen by this oddly adorable mini-sized creature who now seemed to be yelling at her.
Cheng Yan, towering over everyone, bent down for a closer look, completely thrilled.
“I know what this is! Read about it in a book, they’re called Hu people. Kind of like little goblins that live in groups, harmless and not aggressive.”
Cheng Yan dug out a palm-sized golden lock from his storage pouch, bright, heavy, glinting in his thick fingers. He shook it at the little guy. “Hey, how about we trade? You get this, and we get to pass?”
The miniature man gave him a full-on look of disdain. “Country bumpkin.”
Cheng Yan’s face went bright red. “No way! The book definitely said they love collecting shiny stuff!”
He flipped open his well-thumbed copy of Demon Spirit Realm: Beasts and Oddities to check the entry on Hu folk right then and there.
Mu Xue just happened to stroll by and, without missing a beat, pulled a beautiful piece of green jade from her pouch and handed it over.
It was flawless, luminous, a splash of pure green, intricately carved with mountains and figures. No spiritual power, just exquisite craftsmanship, a miniature work of art.
The little creature’s face lit up with delight. It spun around and beckoned, and soon two or three more of its kind came scampering out of the burrow, all grinning from ear to ear. Together they hoisted up the jade token and heaved it over to the mouth of their den, wedging it firmly in place to block the entrance.
No one seemed to care anymore about the Ziling Jade that Lin Yin had just taken.
Lin Yin clutched the spirit jade, thoroughly enchanted, but managed a begrudging thank you to Mu Xue. “I guess… yeah. Thanks.”
Mu Xue held out her hand. “We split it, half and half.”
Lin Yin, born into wealth and completely unaccustomed to such street-smart bartering, stamped her foot in frustration. “You’re not even an alchemist! What do you need this for? All you did was toss in some cheap mortal jade. It’s basically worthless!”
“Doesn’t matter what I put in, I still contributed something. Unlike someone.” Mu Xue drawled, unhurried as ever. “Even if you sold this for spirit stones, half a chunk of Ziling Jade could buy me a hundred romance novels and treat me to restaurant meals ten times over.”
Lin Yin nearly choked with indignation, but she was too proud to keep everything for herself. Fuming, she drew her sword, sliced the jade neatly in two, and tossed half to Mu Xue, who seemed all too ready to waste her prize on storybooks and street food.
Cheng Yan trailed after them, nose deep in his reference book as they walked.
“That’s odd. I was so thorough in my research before coming! The book says crane-folk love sparkly things. Why aren’t they interested?”
Mu Xue answered, “Crows are the ones obsessed with shiny stuff. Your book’s no good, you want Zhang Zhenren’s annotated ‘Bestiary of Demons’ or maybe ‘A Comprehensive Study of Beasts Beasts’. Texts imported from the Demon Spirit Realm are way more accurate.”
“Oh? You brought any with you?” Cheng Yan, ever the diligent student, scratched his head. “Mind if I borrow one to take a look?”
Mu Xue dug around in her storage pouch and handed him a volume. “Only brought ‘Bestiary of Demons’.”
Cheng Yan accepted it, leafed through a few pages, and sure enough, every entry was detailed and covered in notes. Delighted and genuinely impressed, he thanked her profusely, “Thanks a lot, Mu Xue!”
After all that chatter, the awkwardness from a few days ago, when their dear junior sister had unceremoniously tossed him off the sparring platform, had more or less vanished.
They’d walked far from where Lou Xuelin was stationed. In the distance, the tall city wall appeared, a huge crescent of stone collapsed away, stark against the sky.
Lin Yin had her Ziling Jade, Ding Lanlan found a Fire Spirit Stone, Zhuo Yu had unearthed a Nascent Soul Herb… everyone, it seemed, was making out well.
“See? This Demon Spirit Realm is nothing like the horror stories. It’s paradise!” Cheng Yan crowed, gleefully clutching a spirit beast egg he’d never seen before, giggling as he hurried to the back of the group to show off to Mu Xue and Ding Lanlan.
“Could be a dragon egg, you know. A real dragon egg!” Cheng Yan declared.
“Let me see. No way it’s a dragon egg, right? But it does look like some rare beast.” Ding Lanlan carefully inspected the egg, turning it this way and that.
If only they knew the truth. What would actually hatch from that egg was a total blockhead of a goose, a bottomless pit of an eater, sure, but at best, you could call it a ‘spirit goose’. Mu Xue smirked but said nothing, letting the suspense hang.
“Shh, did you guys hear something?” Just then, Xiao Changge, who was leading, paused mid-step.
Somewhere deep in the darkness ahead, a strange, thin chorus of chanting could be heard.
Heave-ho! Heave-ho!
The sound was sharp and high, like a troop of children, or perhaps a chorus of girls.
And then, under the silver moonlight, a procession appeared: dwarves, three feet tall, every one of them in black gauze hats and flowing robes, carrying a sedan chair draped in red silks and ornaments, heading straight toward them.
They marched at a breakneck pace, like wild swans, and in the blink of an eye, were right in front of the group.
Only now could everyone see: though dressed in human court attire, these were monsters, bird-like faces perched atop feathery heads bound up under black hats, each with small, beady eyes and pointed beaks, chanting in perfect unison as they walked.
The procession didn't even glance at Mu Xue’s group. They carried the sedan chair right past them, eyes fixed ahead, dead serious. At the entrance to a shadowy alley, they set the chair down. Then, in perfect synchronization, all bowed three deep bows.
Then, with a flourish of their wide sleeves, the bird-folk scattered in all directions at once, vanishing.
Left alone at the mouth of the alley was the sedan chair, and sprawled across it… was a half-human, half-bird demoness.
She had the face of a young girl, soft and pretty, with long silken hair. Her hands were tightly bound behind her back, long white feathers tumbling loose and tangled from her bare arms.
The disciples of Guiyuan Sect exchanged nervous glances. Xiao Changge motioned for the others to stay put, then cautiously approached to investigate.
“Hey… do you need help?” Xiao Changge asked gently.
Beneath the moon, the girl shrank into herself, eyes squeezed shut, saying nothing. Glittering tears slipped endlessly down her pale cheeks.
“It’s all right. Don’t be afraid. We’re not here to hurt you.” Xiao Changge kept his distance, made a sword gesture, and with a flick of true energy, sliced the ropes binding the girl’s wrists.
But the delicate creature only curled up tighter, trembling even harder for reasons no one could guess.
Xiao Changge started to step forward again, but before he could, Zhuo Yu, silent until now, suddenly surged ahead, shoving him roughly out of the way.
Lin Yin, just arriving, caught her stumbling junior brother and opened her mouth to scold, when a cloud of white feathers exploded in front of her. A gush of hot blood sprayed across both her and Xiao Changge’s faces.
Under the beautiful, tranquil moonlight, behind a storm of feathers, a monstrous minotaur emerged, beast’s jaws clamping down on the bird girl, bracing itself against the ruined wall, its giant head thrust from the shadowy alley.
The burly creature rose from the darkness, gauze hat askew, clad in tattered robe and a serpent belt. Its massive, oxen head gleamed with feral yellow eyes that pierced the gloom.
Dark-skinned, bristling arms crushed the stone walls as its five clawed fingers flexed. From the dust, it stepped forth on blunt hooves, white fangs bared, the mangled bird girl hanging from its mouth. Blood dripped from the sodden fur on its chin.
The monster gazed down from above, snorting clouds of steam from its nostrils.
Every single first-timer from the Immortal Sects shivered uncontrollably at the sight of their first real demon.
Only Zhuo Yu sprang instinctively into motion, a wall of raging fire erupted before the minotaur, blocking its advance in a heartbeat.
The Hunyuan Pouch was summoned into the air.
“Wind, rise!”
A mighty gust swept in, feeding the flames until fire roared sky-high, completely swallowing the hulking black monster.
Zhuo Yu let out the breath he’d been holding, ready to retreat. But the furious demon, two sharp horns gleaming on its brow, lowered its head and smashed right through the wall of fire, striding out fast and furious from that sea of burning light.
It spat out the half-eaten bird demon from its mouth. Those massive, ink-black fingers snatched Zhuo Yu by the head and slammed him viciously to the ground.
Pain exploded through Zhuo Yu’s insides as he was pounded against the earth, then hoisted high again, swinging helplessly in the air.
Dizzy, half-blind, he barely managed to latch onto the thick wrist that meant to end him, forcing all his strength into igniting his Profound Fire technique, desperately trying to make this iron-skinned brute let him go.
But the bull demon, wild with rage, didn’t care, intent on beating to death the infuriating human burning in its grasp.
Zhuo Yu’s attacks weren’t making a dent, but he gave it everything anyway. He knew, he could not, would not, give up on himself.
Because for someone like him, pushed out and shut out by the team, there was never going to be a rescue.
Another brutal impact nearly knocked him senseless. A chill like walking through a blizzard cut straight through his skin.
At last, that thick, shadowy hand dropped away from his eyes and released him, tossing him aside onto rough ground.
Struggling to open his eyes, Zhuo Yu saw a drifting cloud glide past, and above it, a flash of red. Upon that cloud, a figure in crimson wielded a sword as fluid as water, the sword’s intent turning Autumn frost to snow; shards of freezing light blasted straight into the bull demon’s eyes, drawing every trace of the monster’s attention.
The bull demon’s iron hooves thundered, kicking up clouds of dirt, thick fur nearly brushing the tip of Zhuo Yu’s nose.
Zhuo Yu spat blood and forced his battered, bleeding body to crawl through the dense smoke, away from the chaos.
Suddenly, a triangular black-iron flightcraft shot through the haze. The pilot leaned out, hand outstretched in his direction.
Zhuo Yu bit down to hold back another mouthful of blood, thinking he probably didn’t deserve to take that hand.
After all, not so long ago, he had all but broken this person in the arena, going all out, refusing to lose, and badly injuring his own junior sister when she wouldn’t yield.
“Hurry up!” his junior sister barked at him.
He didn’t even know why, maybe just delirious, but somehow his hand reached out, and that strong, warm grip yanked him up onto the craft, dragging him away from the deadly heart of the battlefield.
Once safely out of range, Xiao Changge caught him, immediately running the Rejuvenation technique over him, then whipping out an entire armory of vials and salves, hands flying as he worked to patch him up.
Those quick, deft hands were all too familiar. Not long ago, Zhuo Yu had twisted that very wrist, slamming Xiao Changge into the mud and demanding she admit defeat.
“Thank you, senior. If you hadn’t stayed behind to shove us clear, you wouldn’t be hurt like this,” that junior mumbled, apologizing to him even as he worked.
He didn’t just save the one who’d beat the hell out of him, not even a grudge. That bird girl with half her arm and wing torn off had also been bandaged and was now lying nearby, breathing, alive.
There was only pale moonlight in the sky, but that soft glow suddenly seemed blinding. Zhuo Yu’s eyes stung and burned, and he had to turn away, shutting them tight.