Demon Path, Twin Iron Wheel Mountain.
Outside the Demon King Palace, the wind from the underworld howled bitterly cold.
Chu He sat atop a magic totem pillar carved from black stone, staring blankly in the direction of the human realm far beyond the distant mountain peaks.
He wore human world clothing — a black shirt and jeans, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was now completely short, the wind outlining a serene and delicate profile.
He had cut it himself with a dagger a few days ago, just after arriving in the demon realm. At first, he only meant to trim away some troublesome curls, but once the shortened ends curled up again, he decided to simply cut it all off. It turned out to be much more convenient.
Strictly speaking, a celestial’s manifested form couldn’t be altered at will — but as more than half of him had already fallen into demonhood, it hardly mattered anymore.
Not far away, the blood sea roiled with crimson mist. Several ghostly Demon emerged dripping wet from the shallows, dragging corpse sacks behind them.
These corpse sacks varied in size, the largest able to hold tens of thousands of human remains. Once, when Brahma was nearly sealed away by Zhou Hui, Chu He had brought him to the Four Evil Paths to escape pursuit. At the Demon King Palace, he had accidentally seen an opened sack — tens of thousands of corpses tangled together, faces twisted in agony — and had left immediately, vowing never to set foot on the Demon Path again.
The Demon Lord had told him that different corpse sacks were used to refine different types of bodies, the purpose being to turn collected human corpses into low-grade hell demons for the Demon to command. Whenever war broke out in the human realm, the ghostly Demon would gather millions of corpses. Without a constant supply of hell demons, the Demon could never match the overwhelming numbers of the celestial clans.
Chu He gazed impassively at the massive corpse sack being hauled from the water. From its size and the marks it left in the sand, there had to be at least a hundred human bodies inside.
The ghostly Demon dragged the sack from the beach, spiraling up rugged mountain paths until they reached the grand dark-crystal causeway outside the Demon King Palace’s main hall. The stench of a hundred corpses packed into one bag was indescribable. Wet, heavy footprints trailed across the crystal floor until they dumped the sack at the wide steps beneath the totem pillar. Then they turned to fetch another from the blood sea.
Sitting on the totem pillar, Chu He looked down at the bulging bag seeping black-red stains. After a moment, he reached into the void and caught a flickering golden-red flame, giving it a light flick.
The flame landed on the sack — boom! — erupting into an almost blinding blaze, reducing the entire bag and all the bodies within to ash in an instant.
“You—!” the ghostly Demon whirled around. “What are you doing?!”
Chu He said calmly, “It stinks.”
“That was for His Excellency the Demon Lord!” the Demon roared, leaping toward the pillar. “Where are you from, you ignorant human—”
Mid-leap, they became black shadows, like ghosts. In the blink of an eye, they were before him. But in the next second, Chu He turned his gaze on them, expression cold, still resting his chin on one hand. He opened his mouth and lightly exhaled a breath of golden fire.
Boom!
The golden fire took the form of a soaring giant bird, wings ablaze, engulfing the Demon instantly.
Chu He lazily jumped down from the pillar. When he landed on the crystal floor, he made almost no sound, then turned and walked up the polished, mirror-like steps.
Behind him, the fire crackled with the sound of burning bone. The screams faded almost immediately.
The architecture of the Demon King Palace was not unlike that of the celestial realm — a vast palace encircling a city — but its materials were not the bright, sun-aligned jewels of the heavens. Instead, it used moon-aligned stones: crystal, chalcedony, moonstone. The palace walls were built from countless gray-luminous blocks, each a square yard in size and half a yard thick, stacked so high one had to crane their neck to see the top. Passing through a single room took the time of half a cup of tea.
In the Demon King Palace, there were tens of thousands of such rooms.
Of the Four Evil Paths, the Hungry Ghost and Beast Realms were barren and harsh, the Hell Realm nearly undeveloped. Only the Demon Path’s wealth could rival the Thirty-Three Heavens. In their prime, it was said, the land was all gold, the trees made of crystal, their fruit glittering gemstones; even the gloomy sky was a boundless sheet of moonstone.
But thousands of years of celestial conquest had stripped the Demon of most of their riches, leaving little more than an empty shell.
Chu He passed through one room after another — some with pools of wine and feasts of flesh, others housing hell demons the size of hills, still others echoing with laughter where Demon women entertained men captured from the human realm.
Lowering his lashes, his pale, handsome face remained cold beneath shifting light and shadow.
A demon woman, smiling seductively, reached out a pale arm to pull him toward her. But the instant her fingernails brushed his sleeve, the phoenix fire coiled invisibly around him seared her into a scream, making her snatch her hand back like lightning.
Without a glance, Chu He finally reached a terrace at the end of a deep corridor. He pushed open the bronze doors, and damp wind surged in, tossing his hair back.
The Demon Lord turned his head. His black robe was patterned with red, his gaze as imperious as a sovereign.
Chu He walked forward calmly and leaned on the railing, looking down at the endless massed army of the Four Evil Paths below.
Led by the Demon, the army’s main force was hell demons, great yokai, and hundreds of billions of vengeful ghosts — the most powerful forces the Four Evil Paths could muster. Above them, deathly qi condensed into black clouds, spiraling upward into the heavens like a colossal dragon.
The Demon Lord, surveying his forces from on high, glanced at Chu He at his side, apparently pleased with the sight. His gaze shifted to the distance —
— Mount Buzhou of the Underworld.
The only direct road from the Six Realms to the Formless Heaven.
“You killed someone outside?” the Demon Lord asked suddenly.
“A few ghostly Demon,” Chu He replied. “They struck first.”
The Demon King Palace itself was part of the Demon Lord’s eighth consciousness, so he knew exactly what had happened outside — including that Chu He had used true phoenix fire to burn hundreds of bodies from the blood sea. But he showed no displeasure; perhaps simply standing here beside the Phoenix Bright King, surveying his army, gave him such deep satisfaction that he couldn’t be bothered with small matters.
“You don’t like corpse refinement?” the Demon Lord asked, as if making conversation.
Chu He said nothing.
“No choice — the hell demons we need far outnumber those that form naturally, so we must plunder from the human realm. Even the Buddha once incarnated as a monk to preach there, using the power of lords and warlords to gather believers and strengthen the celestial realm…”
Chu He interrupted him. “Those corpses — were they freshly killed?”
The Demon Lord turned and met his gaze. Chu He’s head was slightly tilted, his face fine-featured, completely expressionless.
“Yes,” the Demon Lord said.
Chu He turned toward the corridor — but the Demon Lord suddenly seized his wrist.
“I want to crush the Heavenly Way, destroy the Buddha’s body, and make the demons the new masters of the Six Realms. I will plunder more resources from the human world to strengthen the Four Evil Realms, letting endless death energy spread and turn human cities into ruins, where hundreds of billions of vengeful spirits will never be reborn. The earth will collapse into demon territory. Do you know why I’m telling you all this?”
“Because you need my strength,” Chu He said indifferently.
But the Demon Lord replied, “No.”
He leaned close to Chu He, his scorching breath almost brushing his ear. “I’m not asking for your opinion—I’m simply telling you my goal, and then revealing the fact that you must follow me.”
Chu He found this somewhat absurd. He tried to break free and step aside, but failed. After a moment of futile struggle, he finally gave up and asked, “Why?”
“Because in your nature lies the instinct to submit to one with a firm will. You’ve lived for tens of thousands of years and have never shed the fledgling instinct in your blood,” the Demon Lord said with a curl of his lips, though there was no smile in his eyes. “Just like when Zhou Hui hacked off eleven of your phoenix bones on the battlefield and then proposed to you—you agreed. When he found you in the human world, locked you in a barrier, sealed your nine orifices, and bound your spine—you naturally obeyed…”
Chu He narrowed his eyes and gave his arm a sharp tug, but the Demon Lord yanked him forward. “I once thought of winning you over,” the Demon Lord continued, “but it turns out that the soft methods of the human world don’t work on you. What you need is restraint, guardianship, and conquest. You won’t even glance at the weak…”
“Have you lost your mind?” Chu He asked, his voice tinged with irritation.
“I’m simply explaining how I’ll treat you in the future,” the Demon Lord said politely, though the strength of his fingers didn’t relax in the slightest. “One day, we will flatten Mount Sumeru and stand together atop the Six Realms… If I’m making you uncomfortable now, my apologies—that’s just me being impatient.”
At last, the Demon Lord slowly loosened his grip. Chu He jerked his wrist free, revealing several distinct black streaks on his skin—the manifested essence of demonic energy.
The Demon Lord Fan Luo had finally regained the full power of the Great Demon King. If the Heavenly Way hadn’t chosen Zhou Hui, then in sheer combat strength alone, no one in the Heavenly Way could now face him head-on.
Rubbing his wrist, Chu He felt a faint, imperceptible shadow pass through his heart. His expression—and even his eyes—remained unchanged, yet somehow the Demon Lord seemed to read his thoughts instantly. He smiled and asked, “Isn’t this the very reason you’ve been offering me sacrifices of your heart’s blood? Now that the goal is achieved, shouldn’t you be happy?”
“I only wanted you to shield me from the lightning tribulation,” Chu He said plainly and honestly.
“Then with my divine power fully restored, I can now nullify any lightning tribulation. At least your safety is guaranteed.” The Demon Lord didn’t seem to care much about his frankness. “Being able to do something for you… actually makes me quite pleased.”
That was simply how the Demon Lord’s mind worked. Chu He couldn’t understand it, but he knew some people truly were like this: they didn’t care about the other person’s feelings or emotions, only about asserting their own sovereignty—giving in a willful, self-directed way, and expecting obedience in return.
Like someone admiring a flower, content only to possess the moment of its bloom, indifferent to the joy or sorrow of the plant itself.
—It was somewhat similar to Zhou Hui, but Chu He knew Zhou Hui still harbored hope for love. Zhou Hui, over the long years, had cultivated unparalleled patience and self-control—he could wait until the very end, until what he truly desired fell willingly and securely into his palm.
Chu He lowered his eyes, hiding all emotion beneath his long, crow-wing-like lashes, and turned toward the corridor of the Demon King Palace.
“Phoenix,” the Demon Lord suddenly called.
Chu He paused for just a moment, listening to the Demon Lord’s voice from behind him: “Seven days from now, I will go to the border between the human world and the underworld to release death energy, allowing the demon tribes to reap vast numbers of vengeful spirits. I want you to come with me.”
Chu He didn’t turn back. He stood there for a while. From the Demon Lord’s vantage, his back was straight—his shoulders narrow yet carrying an unyielding air, his shirt wrapping tautly over lean lines down to his slender waist, and lower still, hidden deep within the fall of his trousers.
“I understand,” Chu He finally said after a pause, his tone flat. “I’ll go.”
·
Meanwhile, in the Sea of Blood—
The sea roared and heaved, shrouded in smoke, as countless demonic beasts tore into rotting flesh, snarling and crashing together.
Suddenly, a mountainous wave rose sky-high and crashed down, scattering the beasts in all directions. Innumerable skulls were crushed within the blood-red surf, shattered as the wave slammed onto the trembling sea with a thunderous boom.
From the spray emerged Maha’s figure. His silver hair whipped wildly in the wind, his face as beautiful as a woman’s, yet cold, sinister, and tinged with a wicked charm against the backdrop of the endless crimson sea. Completely naked, he slipped into the depths like a fish the moment the wave broke, then moments later surfaced in the shallows. The sea spiders tearing at corpses nearby immediately fled in panic, vanishing into the depths in a blink.
Maha rose lazily, drifting toward the shore on a raft of skulls linked together. He set one foot upon a jagged rock.
Jia Louluo was perched on a blade-like cliff edge, chin in hand, wearing short fighting gear, staring absently at several iceberg-like shadows in the bloody distance—most likely chaos beasts. They were almost extinct in the Six Realms due to their immense size, but Maha had somehow kept a few in the deep sea.
“Hey,” Maha said as he walked up and gave Jia Louluo a kick, making him sway. “Move over!”
“…” Jia Louluo straightened and scooted over about five centimeters.
He was still recovering from serious injuries—his muscular thighs were bound with bandages, and scars crisscrossed his six-pack abdomen, some still bleeding. The hellish environment clearly didn’t suit him; in recent days he hadn’t been sleeping well, and dark circles shadowed his eyes, giving him the look of a gravely ill patient.
Seeing this face—so much like Zhou Hui’s—in such a sorry state brought Maha a petty sense of satisfaction. “Can’t handle the Sea of Blood? Why not go back to the Hell Palace? The other day a few demon women even performed the Heavenly Demon Dance to seduce you—why not just play along? You might finally get some sleep, hahahaha—”
“…” Jia Louluo said, “Not interested.”
“Don’t be such a tight-assed little idiot, kiddo. They’re into your type. Back in the day Zhou Hui’s human form was popular among demon women, but your pure and abstinent look probably stirs their urge to conquer even more.” Maha’s lips curved slyly as he gave him a slow, appraising look. “You rarely come to the Four Evil Realms—might as well broaden your horizons. Up there in your snowy mountains you must’ve seen nothing. Ever heard of ‘Joyful Zen’?”
Jia Louluo didn’t even bother replying.
Maha tied up his blood-streaked silver hair with pale fingers, clicking his tongue. “Poor thing, chanting scripture has fried your brain. But since you’ve studied the sutras, you must know the story of Shakra marrying countless demon women as concubines, right? That’s why if you want to become a Buddha, you have to marry a demon woman—otherwise you could chant for another twenty thousand years and it still wouldn’t work. Go on, big brother fully supports you. I’ve even got the dowry ready…”
He reached into the air, and a massive, multicolored sea serpent appeared in his hand, slick and dripping, hissing and thrashing in terror. Its tail lashed across Jia Louluo’s face with a sharp smack!
“…” Jia Louluo wiped his face, patience finally at its limit.
He pulled a crumpled white robe from under him and held it up to Maha’s nose. “Can you put on some clothes before you speak?”
In the Sea of Blood, Maha almost never felt the need to wear clothes—being bare felt far too comfortable. But Jia Louluo’s expression was one of extreme exasperation, and after a long moment, Maha finally gave a lazy hum. Draping the sea serpent over his brother’s neck, he took the robe, wrapped it loosely around his naked body, and then gave Jia Louluo another kick before arrogantly seating himself on the cliff edge.
