Chapter 127: The Storytelling Session

Wang Yili knew her Master’s strength was staggering, but she hadn’t expected it to reach the point where she could practically walk over anyone.

She had the honor of being a part of this mission—though she seriously suspected it was because the Master remembered so few names of her servants.

Cough.

She had thought that for this "Hongmen Banquet," there would at least be a pretense of courtesy before the blades were drawn.

The fertile lands of the North were occupied by the Demon Lord's main city. The Palace of the Northern Demon Lord stood on a floating island. No one knew if the island was naturally suspended or if it relied on the Demon Lord's powerful demonic Qi. Regardless, it acted as a deterrent to troublemakers from all directions and threatened the commoners of the North, forcing them to lie loyally on the ground to be driven like cattle.

By logic, such a banquet was usually reserved for enemies who were powerful or unpredictable. If there was a chance for recruitment, the "Hongmen Banquet" would harmoniously turn into a real feast. If not, lives would be taken invisibly during the conversation.

It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay alert at all times,

Wang Yili took a deep breath and glanced at their lineup.

Master Zora.

Vane, who could do everything and did everything perfectly.

The new servant, He Songning.

And a group of capable attendants.

When the Northern Demon Lord traveled, he was always accompanied by a luxurious carriage or a jade palanquin. Zora, however, wanted none of that. She stepped onto a sword. He Songning did the same. Vane stepped onto his long spear, which had claimed countless souls.

The three moved with incredible speed, silent as three streaks of flowing light, leaving the group of servants far behind. However, these servants clearly possessed excellent professional standards, departing with expressionless faces and prepared to travel day and night without food or drink to catch up.

Wang Yili was only stunned for a moment before falling behind. Once she realized, she immediately gave chase, eventually overtaking the other servants and desperately trying to keep up with the Master.

The wind in the sky stung her face. She had no particular thoughts about the sudden display of strength from He Songning that didn't match his previous image. In the Demon Realm, curiosity killed the cat; if the Master didn't say anything, it meant there was no problem. She understood this hidden guard mindset.

Soon, they reached the floating island without obstruction.

When Wang Yili arrived, she thought the Master would have already entered, but she found her still standing at the edge of the island, gazing at the palace not far away. Surprisingly, not a single island guard had noticed their arrival.

Vane glanced back and casually released a wisp of spiritual power to conceal the presence of Zora's subordinates. Wang Yili didn't notice this; she was still holding her breath, landing cautiously. Finding that no Northern guards noticed her, she felt suspicious, remaining alert as she trailed the Master by a single step.

He Songning, however, noticed Vane's timely reaction and cast him a surprised look. He knew back in the cultivation world that Junior Brother Vane was famous not only for his sharp cultivation but for his exquisite social skills and thoroughness.

...He really is thorough, likely for Junior Sister Zora’s sake.

Vane and He Songning followed Zora’s lead. Whatever she did, they mimicked. Even if she suddenly hid her presence and stood silently at the edge of the island instead of approaching the final destination, they said nothing and simply waited beside her.

...Of course, He Songning mainly wanted to ask, but meeting Vane’s smiling yet chilling gaze, he opened his mouth and made no sound for a long while. He was effectively forced back by that look and had to swallow his questions.

Zora gazed quietly at the golden palace. Her spiritual power expanded, and the sound of silk and bamboo instruments became clearer, along with the giggles of several women, overlapping in a way that could melt one's bones. Her divine sense captured every demonic cultivator in the palace.

At first, she was very cautious, but when no one noticed her, she delved deeper. Zora didn't suppress herself; aside from Vane, the other two felt varying degrees of tension. Wang Yili, in particular, grit her teeth under the unconscious pressure of the Master.

Four hundred and fifty-one people. Thirty-eight in the main hall. The demonic cultivator with the highest cultivation was nothing to fear.

Very weak. No wonder he invited the new Master instead of directly killing the chicken to warn the monkeys.

Zora withdrew her divine sense. At no moment had she realized the decay of the Demon Realm—and her own strength—so clearly. At least the cultivation world had Wanghua-jun at the top, and with their vast numbers, they could still pull off a decent battle of attrition.

Since that was the case, why waste time?

Wang Yili was internally bewildered but remained calm. Suddenly, the girl in front slowly drew her sword. Her robes fluttered without wind, and the ends of her hair danced.

Is she—

Before Wang Yili’s surprise could even peak, a sword Qi that almost eclipsed the sunlight shook the air, crushing forward with an unstoppable force. The floating island trembled as if it were about to fall. Wang Yili had to steady herself to remain standing.

She looked up and was instantly struck with shock.

The countless magnificent palaces were split in two by the sword Qi. The upper portions shattered into debris and then vanished instantly, as if melting into the sword light. Even the massive sound was swallowed; there was no noise of a collapsing building in the entire world, only silence.

A moment later, the sword Qi pierced through the structures and shot straight ahead, swallowing the uninhabited barren hills behind the island. Only then did the ear-piercing, terrifying roar arrive belatedly. The palace was left as a crumbling, half-section of a building, filled with living people who had just been singing and dancing.

One cannot look at the rising sun for long, but one could see the ripples of sword Qi—vast, surging waves of sword intent, overwhelming and pure.

She, the people in the palace looking up in shock, and the noisy crowd beneath the island staring at the sky—all of them had a white streak of sword shadow reflected in their eyes. The white light was incredibly bright, yet not blinding at all, allowing one to face this pure sword Qi directly.

—

It covered the sky and the sun.

She seemed to forget to breathe for a moment. When a person meets someone stronger than them, they feel fear, or perhaps resentment and a desire to chase. But if that person’s strength has already reached the absolute peak, then the heart instead goes quiet, thumping heavily, one beat at a time.

Their minds were empty and bewildered. Those in the Demon Realm looked on dazed, as if seeing how high the sky truly was for the first time.

When the sword Qi vanished and the people were once again stung by the reappearing sun, their hearts resumed beating normally—or rather, more heavily, vibrating through their limbs until they felt weak and numb.

"That was..."

After a long while, a small, hesitant voice emerged from the crowd. He realized what he was saying and stopped, but those around him understood his unspoken words.

—

Was that a strike that murky demonic Qi could produce?

—

Was that a strike someone from the Demon Realm could produce?

Or rather—

This is the peak of the Demon Realm; the path of the demonic cultivator is not dead, it still stretches on endlessly.

Zora did not sheath her sword. She took a step, shrinking the distance into inches, and in a flash, she was at the banquet site.

The guests on both sides were either shaking with terror or forcing themselves to stay calm, avoiding looking at the "roofless" sky as they set down their wine cups. The dancers had long ago curled into corners; those in the Demon Realm were experts at survival, and no one dared to make a sound now.

"..." Yuan Wuzhu looked down. The woman who had just been leaning against his leg had already fallen to the side, pale and retreating in haste.

With her amber eyes still calm and ripple-less, Zora walked up to Yuan Wuzhu: "Surrender and abdicate, or fight."

"...Truly," Yuan Wuzhu’s face was cold as he let out a sneer. "When did someone like you appear in the Demon Realm?"

By the time Wang Yili reached the palace, the once-mighty Northern Demon Lord had already fallen—only a few breaths of time had passed. The people on both sides had been dispersed or killed by He Songning and Vane, blood splashing everywhere.

What should have been a "Hongmen Banquet" filled with schemes was now like a piece of window paper, easily poked through.

Too fast. "Unstoppable" couldn't even begin to describe the Master. Wang Yili looked almost in a daze at the Demon Lord, who couldn't stand up, his bones shattered.

...It was too easy, as easy as pushing over a house made of sand. It felt surreal. The famous Demon Lord was powerless before the Master. Wang Yili felt as if she were dreaming, her feet treading on cotton, the sounds around her fading away.

He Songning, meanwhile, was both shocked by Zora’s terrifying progress and even more aware of the "boiling frog" state of the Demon Realm’s dwindling demonic Qi. Indeed, were demonic cultivators nearing their end?

Just as Zora was about to kill him, Yuan Wuzhu spoke: "Wait... I..."

His eyes dimmed. He knew his days were numbered; defeat and death had come too suddenly, in an instant. Only now did a heavy sense of gravity settle in. Yuan Wuzhu suppressed the blood in his throat. His arrogant exterior shattered instantly; he knew how to beg, a basic instinct for everyone in the Demon Realm.

"I have countless treasures in the North... but some locations only I know... I only ask that you... look after one person... you can even take them into the Pavilion..."

His voice was fragmented. Zora listened for a while, realizing this was the mandatory life summary before death. She hesitated for a moment, and seeing that her servants hadn't caught up yet, she stood there to listen, having nothing better to do.

Although to control a power, it was best to have the Demon Lord personally recount every hidden secret, just in case. But that was for when one feared others had hidden cards or when there was profit to be gained. When your strength reaches a certain level, none of that matters.

It’s like when you, a person as wealthy as a nation, crush the head of a destitute bandit—do you really care about the scattered, stolen pearls in his shack?

So Zora never thought of sparing his life... and she hadn't really thought of listening to his story, either. It felt like listening to a storyteller in a teahouse.

The Demon Lord’s meridians were all broken, and his voice grew smaller. Vane glanced at Zora, saw she was listening seriously, and stepped forward to grab Yuan Wuzhu’s hair, forcibly stuffing a pill into his mouth.

The youth said coldly: "Don't worry, your life will be tethered until you finish speaking."

Yuan Wuzhu’s vision went black. The youth before him smiled slightly: "Please, do make it a good story. Add some interest to your dull tale. This is your reward."

This was a total insult! "..." Yuan Wuzhu trembled with rage, blood rushing to his heart; he almost died on the spot. Then he was saved by the pill.

"..." He Songning opened and closed his mouth repeatedly. Seeing Vane’s "reward" and his hollow, dark eyes that didn't match the smile, he eventually shut his mouth. Never mind—he had no pity for demonic cultivators. He Songning’s respect for life did not include them.

Zora waited for a bit and urged: "Continue."

Yuan Wuzhu opened his eyes to see four people surrounding him to watch. He spat out another mouthful of blood: "..." Thinking of his request, he calmed himself down and spoke again.

...

The story was pieced together, supplemented by Wang Yili’s hearsay—Yuan Wuzhu seemed extremely agitated when she began making things up, spitting more blood, but he lacked the strength to speak. Wang Yili’s flowery additions formed a highly dramatic, cliché story.

The Demon Lord once had a deeply loved partner. But back then, his wings weren't fully grown. The previous Demon Lord grew more wary of his young successor as he aged, forgetting his previous teachings. He feared Yuan Wuzhu wouldn't wait for his natural death and would rise to kill him.

Old and anxious about the status quo, the old Demon Lord lost his judgment. He was delighted that Yuan Wuzhu actually had a weakness and immediately used the woman as leverage, restricting him everywhere. Yuan Wuzhu, fearing harm to his lover, could only swallow his pride, being tortured by the old Demon Lord in secret while putting on a cold, loveless facade in public. When the old Demon Lord grew suspicious, he cruelly destroyed the woman’s cultivation.

The woman was devastated, washing her face with tears, and came to confront him. "You once promised me a lifetime of union. Have you forgotten now?"

Yuan Wuzhu remained silent for a long time. He knew the old Demon Lord’s spies were everywhere. To put it bluntly, what he wanted was for her to stay away from him. He couldn't protect her.

Yuan Wuzhu suppressed the splitting pain in his heart and said coldly: "It’s time to wake up. Neither of us are children anymore. With your cultivation, you could only live two hundred years, let alone now."

He looked at her. Having lost her cultivation, the signs of age appeared quickly; she was already fifty in terms of a mortal’s age, her face and the corners of her eyes showing changes. That indifferent gaze was like a knife; she clutched her face in horror and screamed.

Then, he drove her away. Yuan Wuzhu worked hard and finally seized the title of Demon Lord. The person Yuan Wuzhu wanted the Pavilion to look after was that woman.

It was truly a story of deep affection, but unfortunately, no one present appreciated it.

He Songning pitied the woman harmed by love. He had never been in a relationship, but he had a kind nature, full of passion. In his mind, if he had a partner, they would be someone he could trust with his back, someone he relied on completely.

"If it were me, I would ask her if she was willing to flee with me even if the entire Demon Realm was hunting us. Even if we were skewered like a candied hawthorn on a sword, it would be better than keeping her in the dark and letting her suffer for nothing."

Yuan Wuzhu coughed blood: "I told you she stayed for my Demon Lord cultivation manual... her white hair is a backlash from secretly learning it! You are slandering me!"

Wang Yili: "Just say if you were in love or not."

Yuan Wuzhu was so angry he had a final surge of energy: "...That is no reason for you to blacken my name!"

But clearly, the story supplemented by Wang Yili had sparked a discussion point. Like a book club meeting, no one cared about the truth or the details—this was also something Wang Yili added based on Zora's reactions. Yuan Wuzhu’s storytelling was dry; the moment Zora showed signs of boredom, Wang Yili would immediately make things up... supplement story details, and Zora would barely manage to bring her attention back to listen curiously.

A stupid story needed points to roast; a boring story was worse than a stupid one. It was a pity for the dying man on the ground, interrupted several times and forced to keep going.

He Songning said unceremoniously: "Regardless, she was ostracized, beaten, cursed, and her cultivation was wasted. She didn't exactly live well. Being your partner is truly unlucky."

You're truly useless.

Amidst Yuan Wuzhu’s intensified coughing, He Songning looked at his three companions with bright eyes, looking like he wanted some agreement or a discussion of views.

Zora thought for a moment: "Can't you just let the lover take the blow and escape yourself? Dying together is boring. Since there’s a chance for one to live, why shouldn't that person be me?"

The more she spoke, the more serious she became, the more her survival instinct showed. She spoke as if a lover were merely a competitor for resources in the natural world.

He Songning choked: "..."

So, Junior Sister Zora, you’re not even going to pretend anymore, are you?

Vane smiled and picked up the conversation, tilting his head slightly. His dark eyes immediately fixed on her profile, his gaze like something thick and sticky, clinging to her skin: "You are absolutely right. If it were me, and I learned I was dying for my lover, I would be overjoyed."

He Songning: "..."

If he heard this in normal times, he would be moved while wanting to advise this self-sacrificing person to love himself more. Now, looking at Vane’s tone, his gaze, and his sincere, fawning praise... He felt as if Junior Sister Zora was being haunted by some unknown entity. He Songning thought expressionlessly.

Wang Yili could tell Vane was speaking to Zora. Her eyes, which had been idly scanning the luxury items in the hall, immediately snapped back. Her heart as a subordinate guard immediately sounded an alarm. She said vowedly: "I have no lover, and I never will! I joined the Pavilion of my own free will, and naturally, I will serve the Master with all my heart!"

He Songning: "..."

What is wrong with these two—wait, I’m a subordinate too.

He had almost forgotten himself. Since Wang Yili was here, should he try to make up for it and pretend... He Songning thought hesitantly.

Zora pondered, thinking that as a Master, she should give her subordinates positive feedback. So she stared at Wang Yili and praised her seriously: "You did very well."

Wang Yili: "I-it's my duty... The Master should be the undisputed Demon Lord of the North."

"?" Zora frowned in confusion. "I am the Pavilion Master, not a Demon Lord. I have no desire to be a Demon Lord. One title is enough, otherwise, it’s a hassle."

Wang Yili was shocked: "B-but after killing Yuan Wuzhu, how do we take over the Northern forces?"

Zora was clearly an expert at this: "Find a loyal puppet to take over."

But the Northern forces were clearly much larger than the Pavilion. It would be more reasonable to put the center of power here. Otherwise, those with ill intent might take advantage, not to mention the prestige of the Demon Lord title was a great help.

Wang Yili wanted to persuade her further, but Vane had already dropped the dying old Demon Lord and stood up, smiling timely: "Indeed, it should be so. With the Master’s ability, it is no longer the position granting help, but the Master granting the title its deterrent fame."

Only incompetent people would worry about a formal position or whether their subordinates had ill intentions. A truly powerful person who fears nothing has control wherever they are. After all, resolving those with ill intent only takes a few breaths; it’s quite simple.

Zora looked at him appreciatively. Just as she raised her hand, Vane instinctively leaned down.

—She patted his head.