Chapter 781: Meeting the Long Wang at the Bottom of Western Kunlun Ruins

The old devil sensed further changes in his demonic body and felt a faint thrill within.

Cultivating the primordial demonic deity in the demonic path is as crucial a milestone as forming a Jin Dan in the Daoist path; among them, slaughtering living beings and harvesting their myriad resentments—blood, bones, skin, souls—is the lowest grade of demonic deity.

If one successfully cultivates the primordial, it is equivalent to a Daoist disciple whose Jin Dan is of the lowest grade.

Yet the demonic path is especially cruel: such disciples, if they do not secretly flee, will eventually be subdued and transformed into demonic deities by their own sect's true heirs.

If one obtains the complete true transmission of the demonic path and cultivates several slightly inferior demonic deities—such as the White Bone Demonic Deity, the Ming Snake Demon, the Blood Flame Flying Crow—and then refines demonic arts to transform oneself into a more ferocious demonic deity,

one can control these demonic deities through demonic means, combining them into a more powerful demonic form.

In ancient times, Brother Qian Chen's great enemy, Master Master Miaokong, transformed himself into the Ghost Mother and managed to forge the Nine Sons of the Boundless Heavenly Ghost.

Thus, the Nine Sons Mother Heavenly Ghost became a Yin Spirit, refining into a Formless Demonic Deity…

Such achievements rival those of Daoist practitioners who have formed a mid-grade Jin Dan, but to truly solidify one's foundation, one must cultivate both a Formed Demonic Deity with tangible substance and a Formless Demonic Deity with intangible substance.

Finally, using the Formed Demonic Deity as the body and the Formless Demonic Deity as the spirit, one fuses them into one, refining the Formed into the Formless, until the primordial demonic deity becomes utterly formless and intangible, descending at will—only then is the foundation truly established, equivalent to a top-grade Jin Dan.

In ancient times, Master Master Miaokong used the Twelve Zodiac White Bone Demonic Deities as the Formed and the Nine Sons Mother Heavenly Ghost as the Formless, barely missing this step.

Yet Daoist cultivation emphasizes achieving enlightenment in one leap, directly pointing to the Dao; thus, every top-grade Jin Dan is a seed of great divine power, and most later practitioners fail to pass the Yin Spirit and Yang Spirit stages.

But demonic cultivation of the primordial demonic deity proceeds step by step, gradually elevating one's foundation to match the level of a top-grade Jin Dan; when the primordial demonic deity achieves Form, it is equivalent to the Daoist Yin Spirit; the first refinement from Form to Formless constitutes a breakthrough past the Yang Spirit threshold.

Finally, one repeatedly refines form and substance; during this process, some demonic deities specialize in cultivating the demonic body, continuously incorporating other demonic deities until they gradually forge an invincible demonic body.

For instance, the Blood Sea Old Devil's Prison-Subduing Dragon-Elephant was assembled from countless demonic deities.

The trunk's nose is the Boundless Wujian Wujian Molong; the trunk's soul is the Unbound Wujian Wujian Molong; its blood is the Soul-Refining Blood Demon; its bones are the Twelve Zodiac White Bone Great Strength Demonic Deities; the black mountain on its back is the Black Mountain Ghost Emperor; the hell beneath it is the A-ni Prison-Controlling Demonic Deity; its four legs are the Four Extremity Heavenly Demons; its five organs are the Five Directional Demonic Beasts of Wrath, Greed, Delusion, Lust, and Sloth; even its tail is the Ming Snake forged from the Ming Snake Scripture!

Only after fusing them all into one furnace did he complete this "Prison-Subduing Dragon-Elephant"!

Such a foundation is immensely robust, equivalent to transforming oneself into the immortal body of an ancient demonic deity from the Yu Jiuyou, with terrifying combat power rivaling Daoist practitioners who have cultivated great divine powers and attained Nascent Soul.

Moreover, merely with his demonic body, he can stand against Nascent Soul True Immortals wielding ancestral magic treasures.

Another path does not specialize in the demonic body but, like the Daoist path, seeks to break through the Nascent Soul threshold.

The Blood Sea Old Devil was already among the oldest devils in the Blood Sea Sect, ranking only below those who achieved Immortal Demonic Body or cultivated a Blood Sea Nascent Soul; after millennia of cultivation, his foundation was utterly solid, and before entering the Return Abyss, he had already refined seven forms, qualifying him to attain Nascent Soul.

Along this journey, he successively cultivated the Eighteen Hells Form and the Yellow Mud Immortal Body.

Nine refinements of form, comparable to the sect master of this Blood Sea lineage; now, with the Yu Jiuyou refining his Yellow Mud Body and the Blood Pool Hell suppressing three Asuras, all have reached perfection—once he pushes open that door, he will instantly become a Nascent Soul.

In the future, if he completes the Eighteen Layers of Hell and locks all things with his Yellow Mud Body, he may even have the potential to condense a Dao Seed!

Such talent, though partly due to coincidence and the aid of a certain individual, has now fully realized the Prison-Subduing Dragon-Elephant, transforming into a true, unshakable demonic deity with no trace of assembly left.

This being, comparable to a primordial aberration, would not be beneath even a great Bodhisattva like Dizang as a mount.

The old devil, growing excited, suddenly shook his nose violently and slapped away Zhu Master Zhutanmo's hand as it reached for him, snarling: "You old bald monk, don't push your luck!"

Zhu Master Zhutanmo, ashamed, said: "My five senses are unstable, my meditation has regressed—ashamed, ashamed! But might the Elephant Lord consider joining our Buddhist sect? Now that your demonic foundation is complete, if you could learn from our Buddhist Dharma and make up for your weaknesses, your future attainment might far surpass this—even becoming a Buddha or Patriarch is possible!"

He sighed: "Our Buddhist sect still lacks a great being to suppress the Hells in the Yu Jiuyou. If the Elephant Lord were to switch paths…"

The old devil could no longer bear it; he shifted from the Prison-Subduing Dragon-Elephant into a gloomy, bald middle-aged man, slapped away Zhu Master Zhutanmo's hand gripping his blood-red robe, and roared: "Don't call me Elephant Lord! That's merely my demonic manifestation—"

He pointed at himself and bellowed: "This is my true body!"

"No self, no person, no sentient being, no lifespan—form and formlessness are all empty forms!"

Zhu Master Zhutanmo uttered a Zen riddle, making the Blood Sea Old Devil even more wary.

If a mighty devil who had cultivated the Immortal Demonic Body and transformed into the primordial form of an ancient demonic deity were lured into the Buddhist sect to become a mount, his demonic peers in the Yu Jiuyou would mock him for ten eons.

Even if the Demon Ancestor were compassionate, he might not endure it!

The old devil warned.

"Stay away from me!"

At this moment, Yan Shu observed the underground palace, supported by countless bronze pillars in the bottomless abyss; each pillar, hanging from above, pierced through this stratum, and even the thinnest, requiring dozens of men to encircle, bore intricate carvings—mystical beasts, demonic deities, the Yu Jiuyou and Heavenly Realms, the myriad phenomena of nature—as if inscribed by human hands, radiating a mysterious Daoic resonance.

Had Yan Shu not read Brother Qian Chen's diary, he would never have recognized these as the roots of the Immortal Tree.

Yan Shu tested them with his flying sword; the bronze pillars were utterly unyielding—even his sharp sword intent could not chip off a single sliver.

"These bronze pillars have no life aura at all—are they truly the roots of the Immortal Tree?"

After several attempts, even Yan Shu began to doubt; Brother Qian Chen's concealment was simply too flawless.

When most others had regained their composure, Yan Shu called the group to ascend layer by layer along the tunnels carved by the bronze pillars; the first two layers were dark and damp, utterly lifeless, but higher up, traces of ruins appeared—first, various carvings of tigers: some majestic and powerful, some divine, others eerie and strange.

Some devoured demonic beasts; others gnawed human skulls.

The most divine of the tiger deities, surrounded by countless bronze pillars, was a bronze divine tiger embracing a beautiful maiden, gnawing at her skull.

"Is this the relic of the Wang Mu of the West's kingdom?" Ling Gong frowned at the vast sacrificial traces: "Why is it so sinister?"

Ning Ning Qingchen shook her head: "This is not a divine tiger devouring humans—it is devouring the Dryness Spirit! The divine tiger guarding the entrance to the Wang Mu's kingdom repelled demonic beasts and devoured drought spirits. Carved here, could it be to deter something rising from below?"

Ling Gong shook his head slightly: "Below us lies the Yu Jiuyou. We are all true heirs of our sects, accompanied by several Yang Spirit True Persons and even a Bodhisattva. Even ascending from the Yu Jiuyou was nine deaths and one life—what could possibly break through the Yu Jiuyou' suppression and climb up?"

Yan Shu frowned slightly; he had not forgotten that this Western Kunlun Ruins site had been moved here by Brother Qian Chen from elsewhere.

Thus, this divine tiger was likely the spirit that the Wang Mu's kingdom used to suppress the underworld.

Gazing at the divine yet grotesque expression of the tiger, the Blood Sea Old Devil smiled with hidden meaning: "Could it be that it's not guarding against anything below… but against us?"

Yan Shu inwardly sighed; if one counted the strangeness on all their persons—especially the wisdom of the certain individual within Yan Shu, Zhu Master Zhutanmo, and the Blood Sea Old Devil—the thing the Wang Mu's kingdom feared might be no less sinister than they were!

Beyond the bronze statue of the tiger devouring the Dryness Spirit, the path upward grew increasingly complex, and treasures formed from earth qi began to appear sporadically.

"Xuanhuang Divine Jade? No—merely Earthly Ancient Jade, condensed from subterranean turbid qi, containing an ancient insect within!"

A Daoist disciple was deeply disappointed.

Had he encountered Xuanhuang Divine Jade formed at the dawn of creation, even a palm-sized piece would suffice to forge a top-grade protective magic artifact; Xuanhuang light was the heaviest and most condensed, the finest material for crafting life-saving artifacts.

A demonic disciple beside him, however, brightened his eyes: "I'll trade with you!"

He pulled out a short root he had dug earlier: "Though this piece of Ten-Thousand-Year Empty Green is barely mature, it's far more precious than your palm-sized Earthly Ancient Jade—you must compensate me."

"The Ten-Thousand-Year Empty Green, best for purifying bones and sinews, making one light as a swallow, altering one's constitution to aid in refining heavenly Gang? This is worth trading… I'll add fifty drops of Feng Spring to help you cleanse the Li and Sha of your demonic deity."

As they traveled, enduring life and death, the barriers between Daoist and demonic, Buddhist and Daoist, even between Central Plains and distant lands, gradually faded.

The younger disciples began secretly trading.

Yan Shu and the others could only pretend not to notice; after all, they themselves were mingling with demonic devils and had no right to object.

Moreover, these treasures were not yet worthy of their attention; if they encountered something truly desirable, they would not hesitate to trade. The Blood Sea Old Devil spotted a cluster of bronze arrowheads, stained with blood rust.

Even after tens of thousands of years, the faint blood-evil qi had not dissipated.

The Blood Sea Old Devil stuck out his tongue and licked the blood rust, ignoring the disgusted expressions of the Daoist disciples, and murmured: "It seems the Wang Mu's kingdom truly suffered a brutal war—this blood carries the scent of a demonic deity's descendant."

Zhu Master Zhutanmo reached out; under the old devil's impatient gaze, he took one arrowhead and used his mind-reading ability to commune with the arrow.

After a long while, he said: "This arrow wounded a Deva."

A Deva?

The Blood Sea Old Devil, Yan Shu, and the two Yang Spirit True Persons from the Cold Moon Palace and Great Radiance Palace all frowned simultaneously.

A Deva, according to Buddhist teachings, is a being born of transformation, a descendant of demonic deities, an original inhabitant of the Heavenly Realm; after several collapses of the Heavenly Court, those demonic deities and their descendants scattered into the heavens, gradually forming the Deva race. Given the complex relationship between the Heavenly Realm and the Earthly Immortal Realm, these native inhabitants of the Earthly Realm naturally held no fondness for the Devas.

Ling Gong chuckled: "Incidentally, the Wang Mu's kingdom was also a Deva kingdom, born from secret unions between demonic deities of the Wang Mu's Heavenly Court and mortals or immortals beneath Western Kunlun."

"Too bad they still lost to the Qin!" Lin Lin Mingxiu added with a smile: "I thought the Qin destroyed the Wang Mu's kingdom, but now it seems that even before the Qin's conquest, the kingdom was already beset by external threats and internal decay."

The external threat was clearly these arrowheads stained with Deva blood; the internal decay was evident in the ruins: the older the structure, the fewer the tiger totems representing the ancient Wang Mu's kingdom; instead, they began carving statues of immortals and deities in large numbers, gradually losing the ancient, grotesque simplicity of their bronze sculptures.

The murals and bas-reliefs became increasingly ornate.

Yet the more ornate the ruins, the more severely they were destroyed; many older ruins only became visible after these newer ones were obliterated.

As they ascended further, the frozen ruins grew larger, and traces of life finally appeared.

"What a vast expanse of Yin Wind Grass!"

"Finders keepers…"

"Here's a hidden river—the water's spiritual energy is abundant! I saw something flash by."

"This salamander is only thumb-sized, but its back bears golden lines—its bloodline is extraordinary! Perfect for alchemy or breeding!"

The disciples from the Dourou Palace were thoroughly enchanted; precious spirit herbs and materials were everywhere, and countless spirit species unlike anything in the Earthly Immortal Realm appeared.

Each one was extremely precious to their sect, which specialized in alchemy.

By now, no one would fight over such minor treasures; most simply wished to return safely. Even this harvest alone would elevate their cultivation by one or two realms, and their Dao hearts and demonic natures had been thoroughly tempered by all they'd endured.

For a moment, a harmonious, joyful atmosphere prevailed.

At this moment, Yan Shu, leading the group, suddenly tapped his sword case; the swords within rang out, warning everyone—he sensed someone ahead in the darkness.

A cane tapped the stone floor; an old blind dragon, clad in tattered, ragged robes like a beggar.

The several hybrid old dragons paled: "Gu Lao!"

The blind old dragon coughed twice, murmuring: "So it's you? I didn't expect you to arrive here first? Hmm? Aolì? He killed a young dragon of our clan and was punished here—did he flee?"

The old dragons bowed their heads obediently: "Your Majesty, Aolì is dead."

Behind the blind old dragon, a majestic Long Wang slowly stepped forward, scanning the group; these young heirs of various sects, though promising true heirs, meant nothing to him—only the few Yang Spirit True Persons drew his slight attention.

"Aolì is dead?" the Long Wang mused softly: "Then tell me—what exactly did you encounter? How did you come here?"

He glanced at the tense group and sneered: "We drove the Longcheng into the back of this Golden Turtle, barely surviving to land here. It seems the Immortal Tree above drew many here—you arrived even earlier, entering this underground palace. Tell me… what have you found?"

The old dragons trembled: "Your Majesty, we did not come from above—we came from below!"

Long Wang Ao Bodhisattva Guangfa's expression darkened; his golden dragon eyes swept over them, their gaze piercing like ice water washing over their souls.

"Demonic path… Daoist path…"

"Hmm?"

Zhu Master Zhutanmo stepped forward, holding his golden bowl with a warm smile; at last, the Long Wang's expression changed, and he forced out: "I didn't expect Master Zhutanmo Master Zhutanmo, the Bodhisattva, to mingle among these youths?"

"After that darkness, I lost much of my memory and drifted to this island; meeting them was fate."

Zhu Master Zhutanmo smiled gently, palms together: "Do you, Your Majesty, remember anything of that darkness?"

The Long Wang replied stiffly: "Hmph! My kin and I raised the Longcheng together; though we sensed nothing, we were not caught off guard by the darkness's strangeness—we entered another cavern and arrived here!"

Yan Shu and Zhu Master Zhutanmo exchanged a glance, confirming that the Long Wang had also been infected by demonic wisdom—though he had not yet realized it.

The Long Wang had been observing everyone's expressions, seeing that the true disciples of various sects brimmed with spiritual vitality, their gazes revealing hard-won clarity; many even dared to meet his eyes directly, and his reverence for Nascent Soul True Immortals diminished considerably.

He felt a flicker of irritation, glanced at the golden bowl in Zhu Master Zhutanmo's hand, and suddenly sensed something.

After giving a signal to the blind old man behind him, he stepped forward, one deliberate pace at a time, toward Zhu Master Zhutanmo.

He smiled and said, "Bodhisattva, stranded here, you must have endured many trials on your journey. Are you unwell? Why can you not activate your sacred golden bowl?"

Zhu Master Zhutanmo sighed inwardly, knowing the dragon had seen through them and intended to strike.

He subtly signaled Yan Shu, then recited a mantra: "Namo Bhaisajyaguru Vaiduryaprabha Tathagata! This monk suffers no grave illness—only after falling into that darkness did I forget certain things. My meditative heart has been soiled, hence my ascetic trials. I humbly beg your pardon, Long Wang!"

The blind old dragon seemed to whisper something to the Long Wang.

The old dragon's expression changed instantly: "If the Bodhisattva's golden body is soiled, how can you wander so carelessly? Come, enter my ancient Longcheng, rest awhile, and cultivate in peace to restore your cultivation!"

With that, he activated the ancient stone city, its gates wide open—clearly an invitation to walk into a trap.

The old dragon swept his gaze over them all: "All of you may also come and rest in my Longcheng! You are all true disciples of your sects—if my Dragon Clan fails to treat you properly, will your sects not deem me impolite?"

Ling Gong paused thoughtfully, then shook his head: "If the Long Wang can enter this place, then our sect's elders must also be unharmed. The Immortal Tree of Undeath is the most conspicuous object on the island—we shall ascend to it, and may even encounter our own masters. We shall not trouble you further, Long Wang!"

"Hahaha…" The Long Wang laughed loudly and shook his head. "How naive you are! You've come—do you think you can leave?"

Yan Shu said calmly, "So the Long Wang intends to keep us here?"

"Only if you have the ability to leave!"

The Long Wang's demeanor changed utterly; an uncontainable arrogance crushed down upon them all, and as a Nascent Soul being, he regarded everyone as utterly beneath him.

The Blood Sea Old Devil cackled shrilly; the Daoist Yangshen of the Cold Moon Palace and the Great Radiance Palace exchanged glances, clearly preparing to strike together—even the mongrel dragon serpents opened their mouths as if to speak, but the Long Wang's overwhelming authority silenced them.

He looked upon this horde of Louyi beneath the Nascent Soul realm with such arrogance.

The Long Wang merely looked down upon them, thinking them utterly foolish, unaware of their own mortality.