"Gui, Gui.
Longing for your return."
She should have realized it sooner.
Yu Zhiling opened her eyes and gazed at the Green Serpent Bracelet coiled around her wrist. It contained a wisp of Gui's divine consciousness, the very same that had guided her here.
That trace of consciousness had slumbered for so many years, only stirring when she arrived at the Demon Abyss. Now, it was on the verge of dissipating entirely.
Yu Zhiling whispered, "Goodbye, Gui."
"Goodbye, Little Fish."
Her fingers brushed the bracelet lightly. She had never imagined that Gui would turn out to be Mo Zhu—the Mo Zhu of her past life, not the eighteen-year-old Mo Zhu of the present.
They were two different people. One had seen her as family and hope; the other loved her as his beloved.
She sat within the Heavenward Lotus, nestled in its bloom. The lotus wrapped its petals around her, creating a sanctuary of purity, just as it had for decades—rooted in the filth of the Demon Abyss, cradling the last survivor of Jinghong Village in its embrace, silently protecting her.
"I was on the brink of death back then. How did I survive for three years?"
The Heavenward Lotus nuzzled her forehead affectionately.
Yu Zhiling murmured, "It was you guarding me, wasn’t it?"
Yet it wasn’t supposed to interfere with mortal fate. It had defied the laws of this world.
It hadn’t been heartless enough. When Yu Zhiling was torn apart by demonic fiends, nearing death, the Heavenward Lotus had relented—drawing upon the soul force left behind by A’Rong, wrapping her in its protective embrace.
It had kept her clinging to life, willing her to survive.
But after Yu Zhiling succumbed to demonic corruption, her desire to die had overpowered even the lotus’s protective power. Helpless, it could only watch in despair as she walked toward her end.
After her death, her own strength faded, and the soul force A’Rong had left behind erupted in full force. So potent was that power that even with just a single remnant of her soul, she could live on.
The Heavenward Lotus could go anywhere in this world.
It had traveled from the Spirit Path to the Demon Abyss, taken root here, and broken through the soil to shield this child’s fractured soul.
Yu Zhiling lay in the lotus seat, just as she had in the past, gazing at the petals surrounding her.
"Thank you, Heavenward Lotus."
The petals swayed gently, their fragrance enveloping her.
The lotus returned all her memories—not just hers, but the entire chain of events that had led to this moment.
Now that she knew everything, she had her answer about whether to use the third Windfrost Slash.
The jade token at her waist glowed.
Yan Shanqing’s urgent voice came through: "Xiao Wu, are you alright?"
Hearing his voice again, Yu Zhiling felt a momentary daze. During those three years trapped by the Heart Demon Seed, she had watched Yan Shanqing and the others die before her eyes a hundred and fifty times—until she was driven to madness.
But now, they were all alive.
Her heart softened instantly, her voice gentle.
"I’m fine, Eldest Brother."
Yan Shanqing recognized the steadiness in her tone. He knew her so well that he could even detect a faint trace of amusement in her words.
"...Xiao Wu?"
Yu Zhiling stroked the lotus petals with one hand while gripping the jade token with the other. "How are things on your end?"
Yan Shanqing replied, "As you instructed—once the disciples showed signs of exhaustion, we switched from offense to defense, waiting for you to emerge."
Yu Zhiling sat up. "Are there many demonic fiends where you are?"
"Not many. Most have been cleared by the disciples. You Zhou tried to stop you and Sui Ji from reaching the Land of Eternal Night, so he diverted many fiends and demonic cultivators. We’re holding our own within the formation."
"And Mo Zhu?"
A pause from Yan Shanqing’s end.
Then, the token seemed to change hands, and Mei Qiongge’s voice came through instead: "He’s not within the formation. I don’t know where he went."
Yu Zhiling’s heart skipped a beat. "What?"
Mei Qiongge spoke quickly, "Xiao Wu, the reason we contacted you is precisely because of this. Mo Zhu isn’t the reckless type. He must have discovered something and pursued it."
Yu Zhiling’s voice tightened. "Understood. Don’t worry, Senior Sister. Wait for me to come out."
The connection ended. Yu Zhiling immediately stood, touching the lotus. "I need to leave. Is this the Land of Eternal Night? Have I been there before?"
The Heavenward Lotus shook its bloom—no.
This wasn’t the Land of Eternal Night.
Yu Zhiling froze. She had thought she’d died there, yet the lotus told her otherwise.
"But I feel like… I’ve seen it before…"
Before she could continue, the lotus nodded.
Yu Zhiling understood. "You mean… I have?"
The lotus confirmed.
The demonic energy here had long been purified by the Heavenward Lotus. The fiends that once roamed this place had been slain by Yu Zhiling’s Windfrost Slash, allowing her to rest safely here for decades.
The Land of Eternal Night was the burial ground of past Demon Lords, where resentment and demonic energy coalesced into the purest form of malevolence. The Heavenly Demon Womb was born from this—a convergence of the most potent evil energies, condensed over millennia. You Zhou had no parents, no kin. He wasn’t born of reincarnation but existed outside the six paths of samsara.
Thus, his three souls and seven spirits differed from ordinary beings. It was precisely because Yu Zhiling had fallen for his deception that she had ended up where she did.
While the demonic fiends resembled the blood fiends bred by the demonic clans, there was a key difference. The demonic clans nurtured blood fiends by expending their own essence—each one required a significant sacrifice, limiting their numbers to mere tens of thousands.
But these fiends were all bred by You Zhou. The demonic clans had never possessed such creatures before. So how had he alone produced millions of them?
Yu Zhiling’s pupils constricted. The Heavenward Lotus nodded, confirming her suspicions.
You Zhou commanded such vast reserves of malevolent energy, yet his cultivation only reached the Great Ascension Realm. Why?
Yu Zhiling’s voice turned grave. "You Zhou is the spirit of the Land of Eternal Night, isn’t he?"
Rather than the Land of Eternal Night giving birth to You Zhou, it was more accurate to say that the land had refined the corpses of past Demon Lords, devouring their demonic energy and resentment to awaken its own sentience—a sentience that took human form.
Such a being was called a [Demon Spirit], an existence outside the Heavenly Dao’s laws, rejected by the world. Thus, its cultivation was constrained by the Heavenly Dao, forever capped at the peak of the Great Ascension Realm, with no hope of transcending tribulation to ascend.
You Zhou was a Demon Spirit forged from the remains of hundreds of Demon Lords—the purest-blooded Heavenly Demon. As long as the Land of Eternal Night existed, he could draw upon an endless supply of evil energy to breed countless fiends.
Even if they killed You Zhou, given enough millennia, the Land of Eternal Night might birth another like him, and the fiends would return.
Yu Zhiling asked, "Where is the Land of Eternal Night?"
The Heavenward Lotus unfolded its petals. Fireflies gathered into the form of a butterfly, fluttering ahead. Yu Zhiling hurried after it.
She crossed the illusory river of spiritual energy she had passed through earlier, leaped onto the cliff’s summit, and followed the spirit butterflies into the boundless darkness—toward the end of the demonic realm, the very edge of this continent.
Only by destroying the entire Land of Eternal Night could the demonic fiends be utterly eradicated, ensuring that the demonic realm would never again nurture a celestial demon embryo like You Zhou.
"Ah Zhu..."
The woman’s voice was soft, laced with amusement.
Mo Zhu swung his sword with a furious slash. "Shut up!"
The face before him was identical to the one in his dreams—the memories where he had driven Ni'e into the Four Slaughter Realms, where he had pierced her soul with the Soul-Severing Nails, and where he had ultimately fallen into the demonic abyss.
This was the very person who had stolen Yu Zhiling’s identity, caused the destruction of Ying Mountain, and left Yu Zhiling to die alone in the demonic abyss.
Hordes of demonic fiends swarmed forward, intercepting Mo Zhu every time he tried to close in on Ni'e. These mindless creatures obeyed her commands without question.
From afar, demonic cultivators also rushed in to block his path. Each time, Mo Zhu was stopped just inches away from Ni'e.
Thousands of demonic fiends, high-level demonic cultivators, and the overwhelming hatred that threatened to consume him—finally, he snapped.
"Ni'e."
Ignoring the blades of the demonic cultivators before him, Mo Zhu endured their strikes and teleported forward in an instant.
His hand closed around Ni'e’s throat, slamming her against a tree trunk. His fingers tightened, his expression dark as her windpipe teetered on the brink of collapse.
A surge of oppressive energy erupted from Mo Zhu, forming a barrier of violent winds that temporarily held back the fiends and demonic cultivators. He intended to kill Ni'e in a single strike.
Ni'e’s face turned crimson, veins bulging on her forehead. Even as she heard the cracking of her own throat, she forced a smile, gasping out, "Sleepless... Soul."
Mo Zhu’s pupils constricted, his killing intent faltering for a split second.
Seizing the moment, Ni'e spat blood but continued, grinning. "Her Sleepless Soul is still with me, fused into my spirit. If you kill me, she’ll never recover it."
"And, Mo Zhu—look at this face."
The alluring visage before him shifted in an instant, transforming into one of icy elegance—arched brows, phoenix eyes, and a teardrop mark adorning her forehead.
Mo Zhu’s breath trembled.
Ni'e smiled, raising a hand to touch his face.
"Ah Zhu, look at me—"
Before she could finish, her outstretched arm was severed by a blade. Blood sprayed, staining her vision red.
Mo Zhu tightened his grip on her throat, his voice low and venomous. "What right do you have to wear my master’s face?"
Ni'e’s eyes widened in disbelief. "You don’t care about her Sleepless Soul—ah!"
Mo Zhu pressed a hand to her forehead, flooding her consciousness with spiritual energy. He seized her soul and tore into it mercilessly.
Agonized screams tore from Ni'e’s throat as she frantically summoned more fiends and demonic cultivators. Mo Zhu remained cold, ripping through her spirit, but his lack of expertise in soul-severing techniques meant he couldn’t locate Yu Zhiling’s fragment. After a torturous minute, Ni'e was on the verge of passing out from the pain.
The demonic fiends shattered his barrier, surging toward him like a tidal wave.
In a flash, Ni'e reverted to her true form—a slender-necked demonic lizard. She shrank in size, slipping free from Mo Zhu’s grasp. As she fled, Mo Zhu swung his sword, but she dodged with unnatural speed.
The mindless fiends threw themselves between them, heedless of danger.
Mo Zhu noticed the demonic cultivators retreating in an orderly fashion while Ni'e, now standing atop a towering tree in human form, smiled down at him.
Though grievously wounded, her body swaying unsteadily, she still wore that mocking grin.
Mo Zhu cut down the nearest fiend and glanced down.
A circular array spun beneath his feet, ancient runes glowing as violent winds gathered into storm clouds.
Mo Zhu chuckled darkly. "The Eight Blades Slaughter Array?"
Ni'e knew his hatred. She knew how desperately he wanted to kill the imposter who had stolen Yu Zhiling’s place—the one who had deceived him, flayed his bones, and left him thirsting for her soul’s destruction.
Luring him into the array’s range, exploiting his rage to blind him to the trap beneath his feet?
Ni'e smirked. "Ah Zhu, you’re still too young."
Mo Zhu raised his head, gripping his sword as the wind whipped his robes. The storm of the Eight Blades Slaughter Array swirled around him, yet not a single blade touched him—instead, the winds shredded the fiends nearby.
Ni'e’s smile faded slightly, her gaze turning cold.
Mo Zhu’s lips parted. "You don’t get to call me Ah Zhu. And—"
Storm clouds coiled around his blade, Unreturn, as surging energy sent his hair ribbon fluttering.
"Did you really think the Flying Serpent would fall for the same array twice? I’ve transcended the tribulation, Ni'e."
Eight pillars of energy shot into the sky, their force cataclysmic. Every fiend caught in the array’s center was obliterated. At the heart of the storm, the winds coalesced into a vortex of destruction, slicing apart anything that dared approach.
Mo Zhu shifted into his true form—a colossal Flying Serpent. His massive wings beat with such speed they left afterimages as he plunged into the storm. Razor-sharp winds shattered his scales, blood raining down in his wake.
The deeper he went, the heavier the pressure became, crushing his chest until blood seeped from his wounds. Yet he pressed on, uncaring, driven only by thoughts of her.
—This technique is called Shaking the Stars. When the sword energy erupts, it resembles countless falling stars. At the peak of transcendence, one could even sever the heavens with it.
The first time he saw her, she had used Shaking the Stars to slaughter those who sought to carve out his Flying Serpent’s heart.
When she returned, the night he was sent back to Ying Mountain, he had tested her with the same move.
And later, in the Southern Capital, she had slain the Three-Eyed Serpent, unleashing Shaking the Stars before him once more.
Among sword techniques, it was second only to the supreme art of Frostblade.
Mo Zhu broke through the storm’s heart, hovering midair in human form. His robes billowed as light coiled around Unreturn. Standing at the eye of the Eight Blades Slaughter Array, he gazed down at the formation that had once annihilated his kin.
What begins in one place must end there.
Spiritual energy surged into Unreturn as Mo Zhu closed his eyes. In the void of his mind, a massive sword materialized—its shadow stretching endlessly until it blotted out the sky.
Scales crept up his neck as his pupils narrowed into slits.
The shadow of Unreturn descended like a shooting star, colliding with the storm’s core in an explosion that could flatten mountains.
Fragments of light scattered like falling stars, silver hooks hanging inverted in the sky.
Where the sword’s glow reached, the heavens themselves trembled.
Ni'e cursed under her breath. With a sharp whistle, a horde of demonic fiends came snarling from the distance, while she swiftly teleported away.
Her soul had nearly been torn to shreds by that brat, and her severed left hand hadn’t yet regenerated. Every inch of her body ached, slowing her escape. Ahead lay a cliff—if she could just leap down into the swarm of fiends below, she might find a chance to slip away.
Clang!
A sword sliced through the air. Ni'e frowned, dodging sideways just in time.
Her heart pounded, thinking Mo Zhu had caught up. But when she turned, she saw a youth clad in golden robes, his hair tied back with a jade crown. He looked young.
Shu Feng blocked her path with his blade. "Demoness, where do you think you're running?"
Just a little Golden Core brat.
Ni'e smirked, drawing the whip from her waist. "You dare stand in my way?"
Shu Feng showed no fear, meeting her lash head-on. But even wounded, Ni'e was a cultivator at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage—two major realms above him. The gap between them was like heaven and earth.
He lasted only three moves before her whip disarmed him and struck his chest. His ribs shattered instantly, and Shu Feng coughed up blood as he was flung toward the cliff’s edge, teetering above the ravenous fiends below.
Suddenly, his collar was yanked back. Before he could react, a powerful force hauled him up and tossed him onto solid ground.
Gasping, Shu Feng lay on the ground, watching as a black-clad youth drove his sword through the fleeing woman’s back.
Ni'e looked down at the blade protruding from her chest, blood trickling from her lips. For a fleeting moment, she smiled.
The sword twisted, obliterating her demonic heart.
A Nascent Soul cultivator facing a Tribulation Transcendent stood no chance.
To kill a demonic fiend, only decapitation or heart destruction would suffice.
As the blade withdrew, she collapsed. Mo Zhu crouched beside her, gripping her intact soul and wrenching it free. The agony tore a scream from Ni'e, her face contorted in torment. To Mo Zhu, her expression only reminded him of Yu Zhiling.
Was it this painful for her when her soul was torn?
Ni'e’s vision blurred, the pain suffocating. In her final moments, her life flashed before her—memories spinning until they settled on a pale face.
Cold eyes looked down at her, brows slightly furrowed, as if disgusted by the filth on her. Yet a hand was extended.
"Work for me," the voice was icy, "and I’ll help you kill them all."
Ni'e suddenly laughed. Just before her soul was fully extracted, she lunged forward, clutching Mo Zhu’s collar.
"Tell me," she gasped, "do all of you, who chase grand ambitions, truly have no hearts?"
Mo Zhu paused.
Ni'e gritted her teeth. "He told me never to have weaknesses. So why did you and Yu Zhiling choose to?"
Mo Zhu replied flatly, "Those who love will always have weaknesses. He simply didn’t love you."
She had always known. Closing her eyes, Ni'e let Mo Zhu extract Yu Zhiling’s sleepless soul fragment.
Mo Zhu stood, not sparing her another glance as he walked away.
With her last breath, Ni'e whispered, "Yes... you're right..."
No weakness—only because he never loved her.
A thousand years of life, finally at its end.
As Ni'e’s body stilled, Shu Feng struggled to his feet.
Ignoring the corpse, he snatched up his sword and hurried after Mo Zhu. "I—I’m sorry," he stammered. "For what I said in the Four Slaughter Realm."
Mo Zhu ignored him. The disciple jade token still worked—he could sense Yu Zhiling moving southeast.
She had been motionless for a terrifying stretch of time, freezing his soul with dread. Only now had she stirred again.
Mo Zhu had no patience for Shu Feng, but the boy wasn’t done.
He darted ahead, blocking Mo Zhu’s path. "Listen! Nearly half the cultivators from Central Continent are here. I was trapped in the fiend horde and couldn’t reach the formation. But You Zhou didn’t just send fiends—he deployed demonic cultivators and generals too. I ran into two of them."
Mo Zhu stopped, fixing him with a cool stare.
Shu Feng’s expression turned grave. "Do you know why we’ve scoured Central Continent and found no trace of You Zhou?"
Mo Zhu remained silent, waiting.
"Because he was never in Central Continent!" Shu Feng exclaimed. "He’s in the Demon Realm! He’s allied with Demon King Chou Xiao!"
He expected shock, but Mo Zhu only nodded. "I know."
Shu Feng: "…What?"
He grabbed Mo Zhu’s sleeve. "If he’s with the demons, why hasn’t Demon King Chou Xiao made a move?"
Mo Zhu said, "The Demon King is responsible for attacking Central Continent."
Shu Feng: "…"
His eyes widened. "You knew?!"
His simple mind instantly conjured a web of conspiracies. He stumbled back, putting distance between them.
"Y-You’re not Chou Xiao’s spy, are you?!"
Mo Zhu shoved past him without a word.
Shu Feng chased after him. "Central Continent’s defenses are stretched thin! If the demons attack now, what then? What if You Zhou isn’t just breeding fiends here but in the Demon Realm too?"
"Hey—Mo Zhu! Brother Mo! Are you listening? We need to report this to Sect Leader Yan!"
Mo Zhu finally turned, his glare sharp enough to kill.
Shu Feng flinched but brandished his sword. "My master and your master are sworn friends! If you hurt me, your master won’t forgive you!"
Mo Zhu didn’t strike. Instead, he said coldly, "If he kept a backup plan, do you think we didn’t?"
Shu Feng: "…Huh?"
The Demon Realm lay at the southern edge of the continent.
Towering forests stretched endlessly. A lone figure stood atop a cliff, gazing down at the ravine teeming with tens of thousands of fiends. Clad in battle armor, sword in hand, he didn’t turn as an attendant approached.
"Your Majesty, the troops are ready. Most believe the justification for this campaign."
Chou Xiao’s face was impassive. "Mo Zhu entered the Abyss?"
"Yes."
"Good. Prepare to march. Release the fiends only after we’ve left. No one must know they were bred in the Demon Realm."
"As you command."
Chou Xiao adjusted his robes, hefting his sword. The armor clanked as he strode forward, his steps heavy with purpose. "Has Chan Luo gone to the Abyss? Did anyone stop her?"
"We’ve seen no sign of Lady Chan Luo. She seems to have remained at Ying Mountain Sect."
Chou Xiao halted. "Ying Mountain…"
The attendant ventured, "Shall we retrieve her?"
Chou Xiao shook his head. "Ying Mountain has the Boundless Barrier. We can’t breach it yet. Focus on the Yun and Wu families first—their leaders are absent."
"Understood, Your Majesty."
At the Demon Realm’s border, the army stood in formation, weapons at the ready.
Chou Xiao stood atop the heights, his voice amplified by spiritual energy as it carried far into the distance: "Six hundred years ago, the Flying Serpent royal family, in a moment of folly, allied with the demonic forces to invade the Central Plains. The demon realm suffered heavy casualties. Yet the Flying Serpent bloodline is a divine gift to our realm—the rightful royal lineage. But the Flying Serpent royals fled to the Nether Sea, only to be slaughtered, leaving behind only one prince—Mo Zhu, the disciple of the Central Plains' Immortal Lord Zhuoyu."
"However," Chou Xiao's expression turned icy, his voice laced with suppressed fury, "Zhuo Yu oppressed and humiliated the prince, stripping his tendons and bones. Before the Battle of the Nether Sea, demon soldiers witnessed Zhuo Yu entering the Nether Sea. Not long after, news spread of the Flying Serpent royal family's massacre. And now, our prince has been taken by Yingshan into the Demon Abyss."
"Zhuo Yu may be connected to the slaughter of the Nether Sea royals. She saved Mo Zhu and took him as her disciple for one reason—to seize the demon realm's treasure, the Jade Serpent Bangle. And now, the bangle has even acknowledged her as its master. Need I explain what it means for the Jade Serpent Bangle to recognize a human cultivator as its master?"
It proved she possessed either the Flying Serpent's reverse scale or its heart.
As the demon soldiers below shifted expressions, murmurs of debate rising among them, Chou Xiao allowed a faint smirk before schooling his face back into solemn grief.
"The Central Plains drove out the demon realm and hunted down the remnants of our Flying Serpent royal family. Now, they seek to plunder our treasures and torment our last prince, dragging him into the Demon Abyss to fight their battles. To rescue our prince, we must march on the Central Plains. What say you, warriors—"
"You certainly excel at smearing others."
A voice laced with amusement drifted from above.
Chou Xiao stiffened momentarily, irritation flashing across his face at the interruption. He lifted his gaze.
A figure stood atop a distant cliff, higher than his own vantage point, clad in striking crimson robes. She looked down at him as if he were nothing more than a lowly cur.
Some among the crowd recognized her.
"Chan Luo?"
"Who’s Chan Luo?"
"She’s the Great General—no, the Demon King’s betrothed! Rumor has it she died in the Central Plains six hundred years ago. Our king has remained unwed all these years for her sake."
Their whispers reached Chan Luo’s ears.
Her lips curled into a cold smile, phoenix eyes narrowing as she glared down at Chou Xiao in his battle armor, disgust flashing in her gaze.
Chou Xiao murmured softly, "A-Luo?"
Chan Luo raised a jade token high. "By the order of the demon realm’s prince, Mo Zhu, I come to halt this war—and," her gaze pierced Chou Xiao like an arrow, mockery glinting in her eyes,
"to demand justice for the Flying Serpent royal family."
