Chapter 59: The Ancient Demon Pavilion

... The events unfolding in the capital were beyond Cao Chengyu’s reach. Yet his affection for Luo Yuzhu was sincere and heartfelt. Had he not stumbled upon an exquisite opportunity to escape, he would never have left without a word. Surely she would understand.

But the beloved he held in his heart was now traversing the void, flying directly toward his hometown of Immortal Palace City, intent on dragging him back by force. With her commanding presence and smoldering temperament, once provoked, such a bold act was well within her nature. Thankfully, the Cao family had moved swiftly and efficiently.

Above the golden clouds, Cao Chengyu drifted leisurely toward Luozhou, unaware that his family would soon be confronted by Luo Yuzhu. Even if he had known, he would not have been troubled; Luo Yuzhu would never harm his kin.

Along the way, whenever he encountered unique geomantic veins, dormant dragon formations, or auspicious sites, he would carefully record them on a piece of parchment. It was a clumsy method, but fieldwork yielded far more accurate results than relying on outdated maps. After all, maps had not been updated in ages, and powerful cultivators could easily alter the landscape and geomantic patterns.

If one wished to influence the fate of an entire nation, the optimal method would be the deployment of formations—there was no substitute. Formations embodied the laws of Heaven and Earth, emphasizing harmony with nature, drawing upon the world’s power, and reshaping reality through strategic placement.

Every formation master was, by necessity, a skilled geomancer, often versed in the arcane arts to calculate the heart of a formation. The True Man of Myriad Phenomena was renowned for his mastery of these arts and, being part of the plot, was surely involved in the setup.

Thus, Cao Chengyu was searching for the focal point of a formation that spanned the entire country. In most cases, once the heart of a formation was broken, the formation itself failed and lost its power.

He was still quite confident. After finding Ning Wenjun and his companions, he even contemplated drawing Xiao Yan into the fray. That fellow’s roots were here—surely he wouldn’t wish for Dayue to fall to ruin at the hands of certain people.

Whenever the protagonist was involved, no matter how tortuous the journey, success was almost always assured. In the real world, it was the fate etched by the author’s pen; it could be changed, but only with unimaginable difficulty.

To record the contours of the land, Cao Chengyu usually trekked into secluded mountains. Some peaks revealed their trajectory at a glance, and a quick calculation could determine their full range.

For other mountains, however, he needed to see them entirely with his own eyes. Many formations arose naturally in the world, some concealing the secrets of Heaven.

As the saying goes, walk the night road often enough and you’ll meet ghosts; follow the river long enough and your shoes will get wet. On this day, while making his records, Cao Chengyu stumbled upon an unexpected discovery.

He had found an ancient demon palace!

Such palaces were traditionally the dwellings of ancient demons—usually members of the same clan, cultivating the same art. Their numbers varied wildly, but their strength could fluctuate dramatically. According to the records of Dayue’s Skywatch Tower, there had once been a small demon palace with only three residents, yet the strongest among them possessed a golden core cultivation, truly formidable.

Thus, the strength of a demon palace could never be judged by its size or population, but rather by the local concentration of spiritual energy, the presence of formations, the attire and lineage of its inhabitants, and so forth.

The taxonomy of demons was exceedingly simple—two kinds only: ancient demons and fierce demons.

Fierce demons were akin to human body cultivators; they devoured the essence of sun and moon, earthly treasures, the blood of their own kind, enhancing their bloodline and strength through atavistic regression.

Those fierce demons tamed or contracted by humans were collectively called spirit beasts. In essence, there was no real difference, only a change in name.

Ancient demons, on the other hand, resembled qi cultivators. Their cultivation methods mirrored those of fierce demons, but they refined both essence and spirit, often possessing the ability to command the elements. For them, this was simply reverting to their original form.

The greatest distinction was that ancient demons gradually assumed human shapes as their cultivation deepened.

Humans, favored by Heaven and Earth, possessed one of the most suitable forms for cultivation. For demons, even awakening spiritual intelligence was arduous, their lifespans far exceeding those of humans, but their cultivation speed lagged not by a mere factor of two, but nearly twentyfold.

Legend held that the first human cultivator learned the art of spiritual practice by observing demons devour the essence of Heaven and Earth, the mysterious light of sun and moon. Through countless ages, this led to the flourishing era of cultivation.

Within the demon clans, powerful lineages like dragons and golden-winged roc possessed immense talent, but their reproduction was slow, their cultivation rate—under equal aptitude—about five times slower than humans.

The loss of a single member required ages to recover.

Of course, some demon clans bred rapidly, such as rabbits and mice, but the odds of producing a genius were vanishingly small, their bloodlines inherently weak.

Humans, in contrast, could bear a child every year, and their cultivation speed was swift. A hundred years might yield a genius of the Purple Mansion level.

Not every human was born with the aptitude for immortality, but considering the vast population, talent was never a concern. Geniuses abounded like stars in the Milky Way, countless and ever-surpassed by greater prodigies.

Thus, after an era of darkness, humanity slowly rose. As the mighty demon overlords fell to the relentless one-for-one sacrifices of human cultivators, the demon clans waned.

Apart from the scattered demon territories occupying corners of the five domains—east, west, south, north, and central—those recently integrated into the world, like the Hundred Kingdoms Domain, rarely saw ancient demons. When they appeared, they were usually native to the land, their bloodline not yet regressed, lacking even the basic cultivation arts of demons, pitiful indeed.

There was, of course, the possibility of encountering ancient demons seeking fortune from the five major domains. Should such beings appear in a wild region, disaster would surely follow.

Much like the calamity of three thousand years ago, which lasted two millennia and ended only when reinforcements arrived from the central domain.

Encountering an ancient demon palace now was a matter of uncertain fortune.

How did he recognize it? Fierce demons typically measured their size in hundreds of meters; this small, demon-infused cave could never house a fierce demon.

Ancient demons also cultivated their bodies, but only refined their physique through bloodline effects, never actively training it. Their size remained unchanged until, in later stages, they successfully assumed human forms and began cultivating both paths.

By then, their bodies matched those of fierce demons.

Demons capable of transformation rivaled human geniuses of the Purple Mansion at a hundred years old. Once they gained a human form, their cultivation advanced further, often surpassing humans in strength.

Even among ordinary cultivators, at lower realms, demons were stronger—the advantage of their physical bodies was most evident at the lowest levels.

Most of this knowledge came from "The Hundred Answers of Cultivation," a few pieces from the legends and chronicles of the Skywatch Tower.

At first, he had thought opening a mid-tier treasure chest only to find a manual was a poor bargain. But now, its usefulness had proven boundless—a true treasure, priceless beyond measure.

Upon discovering the ancient demon palace, Cao Chengyu could not simply turn a blind eye.

Ancient demons devoured humans because their ultimate goal was transformation. By consuming human flesh, they gained mysterious substances from human blood that aided their metamorphosis.