Chapter 986: The Great Demon Palace

Great Demon Palace?

Mo Hua was momentarily stunned, then slowly nodded.

During the campaign to eradicate the Mo Sect, he had consulted texts from the Dao Ting Si and Grand Void Gate, and knew the words "Great Demon Palace."

The endpoint of evil cultivators is the transmission-focused demonic cultivators.

The endpoint of demonic cultivators is the doctrine-transmitting Mo Sect.

And the endpoint of the Mo Sect is the Great Demon Palace, ruled by the Demon Lord, towering above billions, breeding countless "Blood Slaves" and "Spirit Slaves," devouring flesh to the marrow and monopolizing all things…

But the Great Demon Palace is far too distant in time; many have forgotten it.

Elder Zheng said solemnly: "More than twenty thousand years ago, before the Dao Calendar's Year One, the Dao Ting Si had not yet unified the cultivation world—it was chaotic, shrouded in darkness."

"At that time, the entire cultivation world was dominated by the Great Demon Palace, which ruled over countless Mo Sects."

"The Great Demon Palace overshadowed heaven and earth; demonic ways ran rampant, countless Mo Sects flourished, and demonic cultivators spread across the land."

"Corpse cultivators forged corpses, blood cultivators drank blood, beast cultivators devoured flesh, evil cultivators practiced sexual cultivation, demonic cultivators forged souls… It was truly a blood-soaked 'survival of the fittest.'"

"Demonic qi obscured the sky; blood stained the earth… countless weak cultivators were killed, slaughtered, plundered, bred as slaves, refined into furnaces, devoured alive, and had their souls extracted and refined…"

"Added to this were countless natural disasters and malevolent spirits, causing tens of thousands of cultivators to perish one after another."

"The cultivator population plummeted; human power rapidly declined; a thousand li of land lay barren and uninhabited, teetering on the brink of extinction."

"At this dire moment, righteous cultivators tempered their hearts through suffering, clarified their Dao through truth, carried a fire of passion, acted on heaven's behalf, and used their cultivation to exterminate all demons, monsters, and corpses—carving a righteous path through a world choked with thorns."

"Then, righteous sects emerged one by one; righteous forces grew steadily stronger."

"All righteous cultivators firmly upheld their Dao hearts, taking the eradication of demons and protection of the Dao as their duty."

"After thousands of years, countless righteous elders sacrificed their lives, braved thorns and bloodshed, and finally slaughtered every last demonic cultivator in the world."

"Those demonic patriarchs, whose evil power had once been overwhelming and arrogant, were forced to lay down their banners and hide themselves away."

"The remaining demonic remnants could only lie dormant in dark corners, barely clinging to life."

"Heaven and earth cleared, then the Dao Ting Si was established, unifying the Nine Provinces, upholding Daoic law, promoting righteous practices, and burning all demonic techniques and scriptures—only then did the cultivation world enjoy over twenty thousand years of peace and prosperity, and the innumerable cultivators and flourishing Nine Provinces we see today…"

"As for the heinous Great Demon Palace and the countless cultivators who suffered that tragic, bloody history, after more than twenty thousand years, these memories have gradually vanished into the river of cultivation history; few remember them, and almost no one speaks of them anymore…"

Speaking of these cultivation pasts, Elder Zheng's tone was impassioned, filled with boundless emotion.

Mo Hua listened, his heart surging with emotion.

But then he could not help but feel puzzled—he did not understand why Elder Zheng had suddenly told him all this.

Elder Zheng looked at Mo Hua and asked a question:

"Mo Hua, do you think the 'demon' in this world can be completely eradicated?"

Mo Hua frowned, thought for a moment, and shook his head:

"As long as human hearts harbor greed, anger, delusion, desire, and obstacles, 'demon' will arise."

"Demon arises from humanity; as long as there are people, there will be demon; as long as there are cultivators, there will be demonic cultivators."

Upon hearing this, Elder Zheng nodded approvingly: "Human hearts give birth to demon; if one does not cultivate the Dao heart, demonic thoughts will inevitably arise."

"Once the Dao heart weakens and demonic thoughts take root, a person will eventually stray, suffer qi deviation, and become a demonic cultivator who kills and harms others."

"This is from the perspective of the individual. But what about from the perspective of factions?"

Elder Zheng fixed his gaze on Mo Hua and asked softly, "What is the difference between demonic sects and righteous forces?"

Mo Hua frowned, pondered, and said: "The way of man diminishes the insufficient to serve the excess…"

"The Mo Sect cultivates demonic methods, slaughters and enslaves the weak, drinks their blood, devours their flesh, absorbs their spirit, extracts their souls… This is 'exploitation' of cultivators' lives and the very source of the Dao—this is the sin of 'human way.'"

Elder Zheng nodded and sighed: "Well said."

Then his gaze sharpened and he asked, "And what of the righteous forces—the great clans, the major sects? Do they practice the Dao of Heaven or the way of man?"

Mo Hua was stunned; he instantly understood Elder Zheng's meaning, and a cold sweat began to creep up his spine.

Elder Zheng spoke slowly: "The great clans and major sects seize the resources of scattered cultivators, exploit their labor, strip them of their means of survival, then discard them like worn-out shoes—isn't that also 'exploitation'? Only their methods are gentler…"

"But this gentleness will inevitably evolve over time."

"You probably… know about the Shen family's affair?" Elder Zheng looked at Mo Hua with deep implication and spoke slowly.

Mo Hua nodded.

"This is the most typical example," Elder Zheng said. "The lower-tier cultivators, stripped of their spirit stones, labor, time, and energy, have nothing left but their useless 'remains.'"

"Since they are useless remains, they are naturally discarded—buried alive or slaughtered."

"But the Shen family's actions were still not extreme enough…"

Elder Zheng's tone carried a cold, cruel objectivity:

"Because they still retained a sliver of 'righteousness'—they only buried alive those exhausted 'useless' miners."

"But are these 'useless' miners truly useless?"

Elder Zheng shook his head. "No, they still have use. Their skin can be stripped, their blood drunk, their flesh eaten, their souls refined, and after death, their corpses can be used to raise corpses…"

"This is demon."

"The Shen family did not go this far, but human greed is limitless; 'exploitation' has no end… Eventually, some clan will break this line and take this step."

"Once they do, once they cross this line, the clan becomes a Mo Sect—the 'righteous' becomes 'demonic'…"

Mo Hua's face changed.

Elder Zheng gazed deeply at Mo Hua and spoke slowly, word by word:

"Thus, righteous and demonic stand in opposition yet are unified, clearly distinct yet fundamentally one."

"The so-called 'demon' is not born from womb, egg, or moisture—it is 'transformed.'"

"Human hearts transform into demon; clans transform into demon; even the Dao Ting Si is no exception."

"Once it unifies the entire cultivation world, the Dao Ting Si—with the deepest roots, greatest strength, and largest power—will eventually undergo transformation, and very likely, will re-evolve into a new…"

Elder Zheng paused, his voice chilling:

"... Great Demon Palace!"

Mo Hua's pupils shrank, a chill gripping his heart.

He had never considered this before, not once, when Zheng Changlao spoke these words.

But the entire story of Gushan, the events involving the Shen family—each cold, unyielding fact—rose in his mind, and the more he thought, the colder his heart grew.

"These things..." Mo Hua's voice grew stiff, "don't the sects of the orthodox path, the ancestral elders of those great clans, realize it themselves?"

Zheng Changlao replied coldly: "It is hard for people to see themselves clearly. Once there is benefit to be gained, they scramble for it, never realizing what they are truly doing."

"Some do not know these things; some refuse to know them; and some, even if they know, are powerless to change anything."

"Not to mention those who actually rejoice at it..."

Mo Hua's gaze trembled slightly; he fell silent.

"Moreover, there is another, more grave issue," Zheng Changlao sighed, then added.

"A more grave issue?"

Zheng Changlao asked Mo Hua: "What do you think distinguishes the orthodox path from the demonic path?"

Mo Hua had wanted to say it was the cultivation systems, but after thinking, he felt that answer was too shallow.

After a moment's thought, Mo Hua spoke slowly: "It is... the Dao heart?"

Zheng Changlao nodded. "Over twenty thousand years ago, when the demonic path ran rampant, the orthodox cultivators were able to carve their way through thorns and brambles, exterminate demons and defend the Dao, because they possessed an unyielding 'Dao heart'—one that never fell into evil, discarded selfish desires, embraced the world, pitied all living beings, and was fiercely resolute."

"Only with such a heart could they strive unceasingly under the harshest conditions, overcome the impossible, and gradually topple the Great Demon Palace, which then held supreme power, blotting out the heavens."

"Only thus could they carve out a future for the cultivation realms of the Nine Provinces, for the boundless multitude of beings."

"What the orthodox cultivators most ought to pass down is precisely this Dao heart."

"But..."

Zheng Changlao looked up, gazing at the sky of Qianzhou, at the distant, boundless mountains and the sects lining their slopes, and shook his head with a sigh:

"Today, we pass down cultivation techniques, Dao methods, arrays, artifact forging, pill refinement, talisman scripts—everything—but the one thing we do not pass down is the Dao heart."

"Possessing only cultivation, without the Dao heart—selfish, self-serving."

"Seizing the world's wealth for personal gain—this is what the top sects of Qianxue Zhou have bred as their ultimate 'children of heaven'..."

Zheng Changlao's expression was bitter and helpless, then turned pained:

"Cultivation is merely an empty shell; the Dao heart is the essence. A cultivator with cultivation but no Dao heart—even if his power is supreme—will ultimately become merely a 'vessel' for the demonic path..."

"And not just any vessel—but one with peerless spiritual roots and talent, who has devoured vast quantities of cultivation resources and inherited the most exalted teachings—the very pinnacle of demonic 'vessels'..."

Zheng Changlao's words carried a dread that sank into the marrow.

If one day, a great celestial calamity truly descended—evil gods awakening, demonic demons reviving, the demonic path returning—what would happen to today's cultivators, with their Dao hearts? He dared not even imagine.

Add to this the clans' efforts to consolidate their status and monopolize their hereditary traditions.

The disparity in resources and hereditary traditions between clan disciples and lowly cultivators is so vast that the situation will only worsen further.

Zheng Changlao's expression grew wistful. "Back then, full of fervor, I left Zhenzhou and came to Qianxue Zhou, joined the Qiandao Sect, and became an elder of the Sida Sect—I thought I could change something with my own strength."

"But after all these years, toiling in solitude, I ended up bloodied and bruised, my heart drained and cold."

"Under the grand scheme, I am but a speck, my voice insignificant. Even if I argue fiercely, it does nothing to change anything..."

Zheng Changlao sighed deeply, his gaze heavy and gloomy.

Mo Hua's expression was equally solemn.

Zheng Changlao glanced again at Mo Hua, then spoke slowly:

"I have only said these words to you, here, once. Keep them buried in your heart—do not speak of them to outsiders, especially not about the 'Great Demon Palace.'"

Mo Hua nodded solemnly.

Zheng Changlao waved his hand, dismissing the surrounding arrays, and whispered:

"It's late. I still have to pack my belongings—I won't keep you."

"Take these array diagrams and jade slips back. Study them well. Your talent is excellent; your future is boundless."

Mo Hua carefully stored the array diagrams and jade slips Zheng Changlao had given him, rose, bowed, and took his leave:

"Thank you, Elder. I will forever remember your words."

Zheng Changlao gave a slight nod, then gazed deeply at Mo Hua one last time, a sudden wave of deep reluctance surging within him.

He would be leaving soon.

After this parting, separated by Qian and Zhen provinces, thousands of miles apart.

When he would next see Mo Hua—he did not know.

Whether he would see him again in this lifetime was uncertain.

After all, a cultivator's life is filled with too many thresholds.

Once one fails to cross them, a few centuries is the limit.

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And heaven's weather is unpredictable; human fortune is fleeting.

If Mo Hua were to meet sudden misfortune, perish unexpectedly, or hit a roadblock in cultivation and fail to advance, dying when his lifespan ends—it would be such a terrible waste.

Even if his cultivation proceeds smoothly and his Dao fate remains unbroken, if they were to meet again, it would likely be decades, even centuries, henceforth.

Time slips away—what would Mo Hua be like then?

Would he hold fast to his original heart, press forward with resolve—or would he suffer a great change, his nature transformed, even fall into error and suffer qi deviation?

Life holds too many uncertainties.

Those who truly uphold the Dao heart from beginning to end are exceedingly rare—and exceedingly hard to find.

As Zheng Changlao thought of this, he grew uneasy—and then he heard Mo Hua say:

"Elder Zheng, the mountains are high, the roads long—please take great care of yourself."

Mo Hua's voice was crisp, his gaze clear, revealing a thread of resolve and brimming vitality.

Meeting Mo Hua's gaze, Master Zheng was suddenly calmed by an inexplicable aura.

He smiled with relief, a thousand thoughts surging to his heart, yet ultimately condensed into one sincere wish:

"Take care…"

Mo Hua bowed respectfully, then departed with evident reluctance.

Master Zheng stood at the doorway, watching Mo Hua fade into the distance.

Night had fallen; the sky was dark.

Master Zheng stood at the doorway for a long time.

He kept gazing at Mo Hua, as if watching the only faint "lamp" in the dimming world as long night approached.

…

After bidding farewell to Master Zheng, Mo Hua returned to Grand Void Gate and sat alone at his disciple quarters' table, staring blankly at the candle flame.

Master Zheng's words still echoed in his heart.

"The so-called 'demon' is not born of flesh, nor hatched from eggs, but transformed…"

"The righteous and the demonic are sharply divided, yet fundamentally one."

"Great Demon Hall…"

Mo Hua faintly perceived a grand cosmic pattern, a Dao governing the fate of all living beings.

A deep sense of urgency rose within him.

Mo Hua realized the situation might be even grimmer than he had thought.

Moreover, he could not help but entertain a more terrifying hypothesis.

"The Dao of Heaven diminishes the excess and supplements the deficient; the Dao of man diminishes the deficient to serve the excess."

Only by attaining the Dao of Heaven can one become immortal.

If so, then countless cultivators in this vast world, ostensibly pursuing the Dao and seeking immortality, are in fact walking a path diametrically opposed.

What they cultivate is not the Dao of Heaven at all.

What they refine is not true immortality.

A deep chill surged through Mo Hua's heart.

And under this arrangement, if he truly wished to attain the Dao of Heaven and cultivate true immortality, he would inevitably stand against the most powerful, supreme forces of the cultivation world.

The hardships, dangers, and life-or-death traps involved—merely imagining them induced Qi Zhixi.

And it might not even stop there…

These were merely the visible structures before his eyes.

Were there, hidden in the shadows, certain unknown, terrifying entities plotting even grander, older, and more sinister schemes around "immortality"?

Mo Hua trembled inwardly and fell silent for a long while.

"Too difficult…"

Mo Hua sighed, yet his gaze gradually hardened.

Difficulty is right.

If becoming immortal were truly this simple, countless people would have already ascended long ago.

Precisely because it is difficult, it holds value to pursue.

Precisely because it is difficult, it proves one's strength.

If one merely sought comfort and drifted with the tide, would one not waste one's divine talent, squander the encounter with one's master, betray one's parents, and fail to repay the kindness of every elder who had taught and guided one along the way?

Deep night settled; the candle flickered, illuminating Mo Hua's eyes like glimmers of starlight.

"I must become very, very strong…"

…

The next day, Mo Hua trained as usual, practicing the Reverse Spirit Array.

In his spare time, he carefully pondered, word by word, the divine Dao knowledge he had heard from Huang Shanjun, using it to map his spiritual perception's path of advancement.

In the short term, his physical body and spiritual energy would not make substantial progress.

The array technique could improve, but not urgently.

Moreover, the only thing he could still strengthen was his spiritual perception—this was the foundation of his array comprehension and his path to enlightenment through spiritual awareness.

Mo Hua's spiritual perception was already strong, but not strong enough.

Especially after his battle with the demonic embryo, Mo Hua was deeply dissatisfied.

On the surface, the demonic embryo was dead—he had won.

But Mo Hua knew he had not won at all.

He had exploited an opening, using the Soul-Cutting Sword to sever the demonic embryo's connection to Huang Shanjun's divine remains, causing the embryo to "split" internally.

In the end, it was Huang Shanjun who unleashed his divine power and perished alongside the demonic embryo, allowing Mo Hua to escape and break free from the nightmare.

During this time, the vengeful spirits of Gushan had also aided him.

In other words, in the battle at Gushan, he had won through "connections" and "face."

He who attains the Dao receives much aid; he who loses the Dao receives little.

Others helped him—this proved his Dao was correct.

But Mo Hua also realized this was not ideal.

He could not entrust victory or defeat to others' aid; he disliked the feeling of his life-and-death fate being beyond his own control.

His spiritual perception must become stronger!

The path to strength, first, as Huang Shanjun said, was to continue along the path of the divine, breaking past the limits of "humanity," allowing his spiritual perception to attain the divine tier's "form transformation," his spiritual perception crystallizing like armor.

On the other hand, he would continue digesting the Dragon Soul, to see if he could grant his spiritual sense the power of the Dragon Soul.

In this way, he might even manifest dragon scales, dragon claws, and wear dragon armor.

The strength of his spiritual sense could still rise another level.

With this dual approach, combined with array cultivation, spiritual sense transformation, and the transformations of the Heavenly Evolution Scripture, his spiritual awareness could grow infinitely stronger.

Perhaps one day, it could grow strong enough to tear apart a demon god.

But right now, he is still far from this goal.

And this is still not enough.

No matter how strong spiritual awareness becomes, it remains merely a weapon of the spiritual realm.

The physical world also requires a certain degree of destructive power.

Mo Hua already has an idea.

This is the "Soul-Slicing" out-of-body technique he had been pondering and practicing repeatedly, but failed at every time due to his spiritual awareness being below twenty marks.

Now that his spiritual sense had already formed a Golden Core, he finally had the qualifications to attempt it again.

He would project the Void-Cutting Divine Sword, condensed from his spiritual sense, through his eye aperture, releasing it from his spiritual sea, breaking the boundary between illusion and reality, to carry out spiritual sense attacks.

With the spiritual sword within his spiritual sea, he would slay flesh-and-blood enemies in the real world.