The instant Lang Jiuchuan drew upon the vast righteous energy of heaven and earth, Tantai Wuji — who was in the midst of his cultivation — felt a stagnation in the absorption of power. He emerged from the blood pool and looked out to see signs of deterioration in the demonic energy, which caused his expression to darken. But then he gave a cold laugh.
“As long as humans harbor wicked thoughts, the demonic energy will not dissipate. As long as there is desolate, yin death energy, it can transform into corruption and beguile the people of the world. Do you think this is enough to hinder my progress?” The demonic energy around his entire body surged and roiled, as though transforming into countless tentacles fine as silk threads that extended outward — hideous as a malevolent demon, making the scalp crawl.
Tantai Wuji gazed toward the horizon and suddenly furrowed his brow. That little wolf cub would not have only this much at her disposal. Given her nature, she would certainly seek to destroy his fundamental source — that alone would be a clean and final resolution, truly settling everything and restoring clarity to the world.
And yet she had not come for him. That was unlike her nature. Had something occurred that he did not know of?
A wave of uncertainty arose in Tantai Wuji’s heart, carrying a hidden unease. This sense of helplessness — of being unable to control the entire situation — caused the demonic energy around his body to churn with agitation.
He drew a deep breath, sank back into the blood pool, summoned the Blood Wraith Lamp, and drove a thread of refined demonic essence into it. The demonic energy radiated outward in all directions.
There was no hurry. Any scheme or stratagem, in the face of true power, was nothing but a paper tiger. As long as his cultivation was sufficiently formidable, even the righteous path under all of heaven would struggle to block his road to the seat of dominion.
He would wait a while longer.
Tantai Wuji suppressed that restlessness within him, circulated the demonic essence in his body, and drove the power of the Demonic Codex to its utmost extreme. The energy emanating from his being grew ever more wickedly dense, causing the demonic essence to transform into a purer black — becoming a void of emptiness.
What he sought to achieve was the great mastery of himself as his own domain. When that day arrived, he would be able to devour all light — including life itself. Who could stop him then?
The demonic energy, like a doomsday storm, transformed through his driving force into countless tentacles beyond counting, sweeping across the whole of Da Zhan, devouring ever more life.
Feng Ya alighted outside the Eight Trigrams City and drew upon the immense fortune that resided within his own flesh — the fortune that had originated from Tantai Wuji’s original body — forming a reverse current that continuously broke apart the encroaching demonic energy, while simultaneously using the power of the Nine Abysses to devour its death energy.
He had, after all, attained ghost immortal cultivation through the ghost path, and his power was fundamentally one of dark shadow. The energy that Tantai Wuji relied upon — it was not that he could not absorb it, only that he found it filthy.
Now he had no choice but to do so. Even if it made him a thief, he had to siphon some of the demonic fiend’s reserve power — and in doing so, also disrupt the speed and energy field of the fiend’s cultivation.
The most important thing was to allow Lang Jiuchuan to set up that great array with an undistracted mind — even if it was not what he wished.
Within the Eight Trigrams City, no stars or moon could be seen, nor could any human voices be heard — only a heavy, oppressive deathly silence, as though the life force of all things had been exhausted.
In this desolate, barren land, Lang Jiuchuan sat alone in an empty room. Before her, lamplight scattered a soft glow across the scroll of silk laid out in front of her. Her figure in the pale amber radiance appeared lean and solitary, yet upright.
Feng Ya had spoken to her of this ancient Celestial Array for Slaying Demons. She had already studied and run through its permutations again and again — what materials would be needed, what positions would be required, so that she might lay down a perfect trapping and slaying array.
And yet the more she worked through the permutations, the graver her expression became. At last, she pressed her lips together, staring at the arcane and intricate array patterns and talismanic inscriptions traced in ancient silver sand upon the scroll, her gaze fixed and distant.
Her fingertips stroked an ancient piece of jade whose age was unknown, smooth and warm to the touch. After a long while, she finally withdrew her gaze from the scroll, rose to her feet, and walked out through the door, her gaze penetrating the darkness before her and reaching toward the far distance.
She understood: as long as the demon did not die, the demonic energy would continue to proliferate and spread — like an invisible toxic mist, inch by inch eroding this land and these mountains. And the vast righteous energy would ultimately be worn away to nothing as well.
As the Way diminishes, the demonic grows.
Those four short words weighed more than a thousand catties, pressing down on her until she could barely breathe.
Tantai Wuji. That name had become the nightmare of countless people. He had lost all humanity, knowing only how to devour living beings — using the resentful spirits of ten thousands to temper his Limitless Demonic Arts and achieve dominion as the master of his domain.
To oppose this demonic fiend, countless fellow practitioners had either fallen, or lost their way, or sunk into ruin. This world was on the verge of collapse.
Tantai Wuji was also her heart’s demon. Unless her heart’s demon was removed, she could not advance a single step further — and that great array…
The Celestial Array for Slaying Demons was the ultimate in sacred formations. It used the Supreme Void as its foundation, drawing upon the heavenly rules hidden within heaven and earth. It used the Five Elements as its bones, unfolding the wondrous interplay of generation and conquest in battle. It used the Eight Trigrams as its network, fixing the rotation of time and space. Once the array was complete, it would instantly summon the power of the stars throughout heaven, cleansing all demonic energy under the sky, destroying the sources and reserves of his demonic arts, turning the power against his demonic soul and weakening his demonic arts.
And yet for an array of this magnitude, the laying of it would inevitably exhaust the spirit and drain the mind. What was more important — and what mattered most — was that for the array to be completed, what was needed at the eye of the array was no peerless divine weapon. Rather, it was a heart that could coexist with the array, bearing the righteous energy of heaven and earth, willing to be offered up in sacrifice, and capable of resonating with the stars throughout heaven.
Or, put another way: for this array to be completed, a sacrifice was required — one that must carry a vast and boundless will to slay demons and prove the Dao.
Lang Jiuchuan ran through the permutations again and again, attempting to use ancient divine weapons as the array’s eye. Even when she used the talismanic writing brush of the Panguan, or the Dizhong Bell — Dharma implements that could be called divine weapons — it was to no avail.
A heart that dares to share in the life and death of all under heaven — that alone can bring the demon-slaying array to fruition.
This was the rule, and the sacrifice from which the power would spring.
No wonder Feng Ya had been so reluctant to produce this array. The price it demanded was this severe.
But once the array was complete, the stars throughout heaven would cleanse the demonic energy. When Tantai Wuji suffered the backlash, he would have no choice but to come and stop her. As long as she could force him to come, he would have stepped into this demon-slaying array.
If he did not come, she still had a countermeasure — a final card to play: to forcibly ascend to the apex, reaching the seat of dominion before him, and in the name of a divine being, to slay demons and prove the Dao. That would be the complete and total sacrifice.
That thought felt strangely familiar — as though she had seen it somewhere before, or perhaps had lived through it once.
Lang Jiuchuan, without thinking, tightened her fingertips. The pain from her palm brought her spirit to clarity. She looked down — and found that at some unknown moment, she had taken out that green dragon jade seal and been turning it over in her hands. The seal’s corners had pressed into her palm, giving rise to that faint, sharp sting.
This was a sacred instrument of state, bearing the fortune of ten thousand people. It was also the most crucial divine weapon of all — the divine seal for inviting the gods, which would allow her to offer herself as sacrifice and call upon the heavenly order.
And the price was everything she had — her spirit-soul, her cultivation foundation, every trace of her existence. If she failed, she would die and her Dao would be extinguished, becoming fuel for the demon-slaying array — or she and Tantai Wuji would be reduced to ash and smoke together, mutual destruction.
Yet she was not entirely without a chance of victory. It all depended on whether the Dao stood on her side. In the worst case, she could still kill Tantai Wuji. In that outcome, those of the righteous path would have come out ahead.
Lang Jiuchuan slowly lifted her head. She glanced at a figure in the distance — and that person, from afar, met her gaze.
She withdrew her gaze. The last ripple of emotion in her eyes stilled into quietude, like the surface of a lake at rest. She seemed to have made her resolution — only determination remained. She turned to look toward Fuqi and Jiangche in the darkness: “Fuqi. Make your preparations. Guard my Dharma and assist in laying the array.”
With all living beings as the wager, and herself as the eye of the array — she was about to open a world-shaking gamble.
“Understood.” Fuqi answered in a low, firm voice.
Jiangche’s heart sank heavily. It had seen on Lang Jiuchuan a spirit of burning one’s boats and making no retreat — it was calm, and yet it made one feel suffocated and oppressed.
The mountain wind heralded the coming storm.
It surveyed this expanse of deathly silence, unable to hold back a tiger’s roar — was that day, at last, upon them?