Sword Sect Outer Sect

Chapter 216 The Path to Seeking the Demon, The Vast Night (6k words, 55 out of 10,000 chapters)

"laugh……"

With a slight exhale, Song Yan slowly opened his eyes, revealing a pair of golden sword-like pupils devoid of any emotion.

The skeletal remains slowly raised their heads.

However, before Song Yan could fully experience it, the sword energy and spiritual power within his body were completely exhausted, and a feeling of extreme emptiness and fatigue surged from all directions.

He casually dispersed his Dharma body.

The cost of ethereal bone shaping is truly enormous.

However, now that it is complete, the energy consumption for using this Dharma body in the future will be greatly reduced.

Looking back, for some reason, when the ethereal bone-shaping stage was finally completed, he inexplicably entered a state of emotionless indifference.

It was as if something had been drawn from his body, and was now looking at the world with a scrutinizing gaze.

Is this the Dharmakaya?

Although it consumed a great deal of energy, one could indeed feel its overwhelming power.

Song Yan's mind started to wander.

The bones of this Dharma body originally required relatively stable spiritual energy to be formed, but now it has been verified that one's own sword energy can replace spiritual energy.

So, what about sword essence?

Now that the bone has been formed, I can try to integrate sword energy into it when I have nothing else to do.

The old saying goes that there are no years in the path of immortality, and that's no exaggeration.

Let alone proper Qi cultivation, even casually studying some secret techniques and methods, time can easily slip by without you noticing.

Sheng Nian initially said to wait a few days, but in reality, half a month has already passed.

On this day, Song Yan was sitting cross-legged in the mountains, with the Unmoored Boat lying across his lap, contemplating the way of the sword.

After his battle with Li Yi, Song Yan realized that he had previously underestimated the importance of sword intent.

Actually, you can't blame him. He used to seek the essence of swordsmanship but couldn't get it. He was single-mindedly focused on comprehending the essence of swordsmanship and quickly condensing it into his natal flying sword.

This led him to focus all his attention on his natal flying sword after he grasped the essence of swordsmanship.

Therefore, the development of sword intent is far too limited.

However, sword intent is a mysterious and profound thing, and it's impossible to expect him to go through another brush with death.

He had no choice but to diligently practice swordsmanship and comprehend the way of the sword.

Just then, Sheng Nian came to him with the corpse puppet A Yuan: "Master Song, it's been a few days since I last saw you. You're still as charming as ever."

Song Yan raised his eyelids slightly: "Have you finally recovered from your injury?"

"It's probably close to ten."

Sheng Nian didn't say he was fully recovered.

That way, when you show off your skills to your best buddies later, you can say, "It's a pity my injury isn't fully healed yet," and brag about it.

A jade slip flew towards him, which he caught casually.

Song Yan calmly said, "What we found in those three Qiankun bags seems to be a Buddhist cultivation technique related to evil energy. If you want it, I'll give it to you."

Raising an eyebrow, Sheng Nian immediately immersed his consciousness into it.

After a cursory glance, a hint of surprise appeared on his face: "Oh?"

Song Yan raised his eyes: "What, you actually find this Buddhist technique useful?"

“Hmm…” Sheng Nian pondered for a moment: “It can’t be used directly, but it has given me an idea.”

"A line of thought?" Song Yan raised an eyebrow.

He was indeed very intelligent in his prime.

That was true in ordinary times, and it is true now.

Looking at his childhood friend, Song Yan felt that many things had changed, but many things remained the same.

But this only made him more curious. This kid clearly doesn't do evil, so why does he insist on taking the path of demons?
There was nothing to hide, so I asked: "Before coming here, your maid called you 'Young Master Xinshan.' What is your relationship with Xinshan Sanren?"

Sheng Nian was taken aback, but then he didn't hide anything: "Xin Shan Sanren is now considered my 'master'."

"He is a demonic cultivator at the Pseudo-Core Formation Realm, and has some connection with the Demonic Cultivation Path and the Yellow Springs Path within the Demonic Ruins."

"You've become a disciple of Xinshan Sanren?" Song Yan frowned slightly. "What exactly are you doing right now?"

Admittedly, out of absolute trust in Sheng Nian, he rarely inquired about the other party's affairs, even now that he calls himself a demonic cultivator.

However, anyone would feel baffled when faced with such a situation.

Sheng Nian's expression remained calm, his gaze subtly sweeping over the corpse puppet A Yuan beside him.

He took a deep breath and smiled, "You'll see when the time comes."

Perhaps sensing the other person's confusion, he dropped his nonchalant demeanor.

He absolutely did not want Song Yan to become suspicious.

"Ayan." Sheng Nian looked at Song Yan very seriously, but did not offer any explanation. Instead, he asked him a very mysterious question.

"What do you think demonic cultivators are like?"

Song Yan was taken aback; he hadn't really investigated this issue in depth.

However, the common understanding of the demonic path is probably quite popular.

He pondered for a moment and said, "It's nothing more than devouring souls and seizing spirits, sacrificing living beings with blood, and reversing the balance of Yin and Yang..."

Sheng Nian shook his head.

“Those who use insidious methods and regard all living beings as resources for seeking the Dao are not worthy of being called demonic cultivators.”

"Even... don't those so-called righteous cultivators often do the same thing?"

Song Yan nodded, but did not speak.

Sheng Nian is absolutely right; that is indeed the case.

"The original demonic path was merely a branch that evolved from traditional Taoist practices. The demonic path and the immortal path originally led to the same goal."

"The path to immortality follows the natural way and the unity of heaven and man."

"The path to Buddhahood leads to transcendence of reincarnation and the salvation of all sentient beings."

"And the path to seeking the demon..."

His expression was calm, but his tone was firm.

"Be free and at ease, and distinguish truth from falsehood."

"It's just that far too many people have gone astray on the path of demonic cultivation, generation after generation, which is why it has evolved into the way that cultivators around the world despise it today."

"Slaughtering mortals for blood sacrifice, killing cultivators to seize their spirits—you think you can obtain the true demonic path that way? Hah, how laughable."

Sheng Nian sneered: "Cultivating demonic arts? It's not that easy."

"Those who pursue the demonic path need more than just the courage to plunge into the unknown abyss and the scorn and incomprehension of the world..."

He looked at Song Yan meaningfully: "What you need even more is the wisdom and determination to contend with the darkness in your heart."

After listening to Sheng Nian's account, Song Yan fell into a brief silence.

His so-called "freedom and self-control, eliminating falsehood and preserving truth" sounds like he's trying to excuse demonic cultivators.

But this sounds...

How does it subtly align with my own way of the sword?

Sword cultivators are meant to sever all ties and pursue the ultimate and pure, which seems to have no fundamental difference from the true self pursued by the demonic path.

"True demonic cultivators are not the mad and disorderly figures that the world perceives them to be, but rather seekers of the Dao on another path."

"The desires and obsessions in people's hearts are like fierce tigers in the eyes of ordinary cultivators. But there is never an absolute distinction between good and bad in all things in this world."

"For true demonic cultivators, these are actually aids on their path."

For some reason, Song Yan recalled the ghostly figure in the Ink Pool of the Yin-Yang Realm, and the demonic energy emanating from his body.

He recalled the increasingly cold-blooded killing intent he now felt when facing his mortal enemy.

According to what Sheng Nian said, these changes are not a sign of degeneration, but rather a search for the "true self".

A strange sense of relief washed over him, but he shook his head: "Such a 'great path' is only a hair's breadth away from going mad."

"That's why extraordinary willpower is required."

"It's like wielding an incomparably sharp sword; a slight misstep can injure yourself. But if you can hold it firmly, it becomes an unparalleled weapon."

"Your words sound like you're trying to gild the licentious path," Song Yan said, but there was no hint of sarcasm in them.

According to him, isn't the Sword Sect's lineage inherently on such a "demonic path"?

"Let's go."

Song Yan stood up: "Instead of giving me a passionate speech about your path to demonic cultivation, you should resolve these matters here as soon as possible."

"I have to travel around the world, I don't have time to play around with you here."

A carefree smile in the prime of life.

"As you wish."

……

Qingfeng Gorge, Niubeijian Peak.

This place was originally a small mountain gate called "Qingsong Temple", but the original cultivators had long been slaughtered by the demonic cultivators.

The Taoist priests among them are all cultivators from the Demon Ruins.

In the main hall.

The three demonic cultivators sat in their chairs, their expressions shifting between light and shadow.

"Senior Brother Zhao has been missing for more than half a month, and we can't contact him with the communication talisman either." A tall, thin cultivator with purple markings on his face spoke first, his voice hoarse: "Tell me, what should we do now?"

"Leaving this place is not an option, nor is returning to the Demon Ruins. Are we really just going to wait here idly?"

A fat, pig-like demonic cultivator opposite him mumbled, "Senior Brother Zhao, could it be true, as rumored, that you've lost your mind after suffering a qi deviation?"

"The secret technique that Senior Brother Ziyang practices is indeed dangerous. When I saw him last time, he was often talking to himself..."

"Be careful what you say." The remaining person was a handsome young man: "Senior Brother Ziyang is a rare genius in the demonic path, one in a hundred years. Do not make unfounded speculations."

The hall fell silent for a moment, with only the sound of a few people breathing.

The obese demonic cultivator sheepishly changed the subject, saying, "I wonder if that kid from Xinshan is dead or not."

Speaking of this, the tall, thin cultivator frowned: "Fourth brother went with those local cultivators to besiege that kid, why hasn't he returned yet?"

"I'll have to go check it out in a bit."

The fat demon cultivator chuckled: "Could it be that you just came from the Demon Ruins and are so happy you've lost your bearings?"

The tall, thin monk frowned, somewhat displeased: "You really think you've come here to be carefree?"

"This matter with Senior Brother Zhao is difficult enough. Originally, I also wanted to find that Song Yan, kill him, and bring him back with me..."

"Brother, what benefits did Elder Liu of the Underworld Path promise?"

The tall, thin cultivator held out one hand: "Five hundred spirit stones."

The fat cultivator's eyes darted around, and he guessed that it should be around eight hundred spirit stones.

However, that person was at the seventh level of Qi Refining, and at most he could only reach the eighth level now.

Killing someone at the eighth level of Qi Refining yields eight hundred spirit stones, and considering the person's wealth, it's indeed a very tempting deal.

Leaving aside the other mid-stage Qi Refining demonic cultivators here, let's just talk about these four late-stage Qi Refining cultivators.

One is at the peak of Qi Refining, two are at the eighth level of Qi Refining, and one is at the seventh level of Qi Refining.

Perhaps realizing that no amount of chatter would lead to a conclusion, the tall, thin cultivator grew somewhat annoyed and got up to leave.

"I'll go and bring the fourth brother back."

After leaving behind a single sentence, the tall, thin monk departed from the Taoist temple.

We descended Niubeijian via the winding mountain road.

"That scoundrel Zhao Ziyang, the title of Daozi candidate is really giving him a way out."

He thought to himself that he had a great deal of disdain for Zhao Ziyang.

"This piece of trash doesn't even deserve to keep us waiting here..."

My pace slowed, and my thoughts shifted.

"If you ask me, the most important thing here is actually to find that Song Yan, kill him, and bring him back to the Demon Ruins..." "Hmm?"

As he was pondering this, he walked down the mountainside and saw a black bird fluttering and landing on a flowering tree not far in front of him by the roadside.

The tall, thin monk looked up and saw a crow.

The crow shook its head, its golden eyes staring intently at him.

He paused, then squinted.

The crow's wings were a glossy blackish-purple, and one could faintly sense the sharpness and spiritual energy flowing within them.

A sudden sense of unease arose in his mind, and his fingers were already forming a hand seal in his sleeve.

He was about to use his magic to shoot the crow dead.

Suddenly, everything around them began to darken.

In a short while, they were plunged into darkness.

It's not the darkness of nightfall, but an absolute blackness where all light has been forcibly stripped away by some force.

The tall, thin cultivator felt a chill run down his spine. He suddenly made a hand seal, and a blue light shield appeared around him, allowing him to see a little bit.

At this moment, a figure slowly emerged from the darkness, unhurried and relaxed.

The man was dressed in a black robe, the hem of which swayed slightly. His hand rested casually on the hilt of a horizontal sword, and his deep eyes held a hint of indifference.

"It's you?"

The tall, thin cultivator was slightly taken aback, then found it somewhat absurd.

This person is only at the ninth level of Qi Refining, slightly weaker than me, yet he dares to come here and attack me?
However, upon further reflection, he found it somewhat amusing that the local cultivators and the fourth brother combined hadn't managed to kill him.

What a waste.

Narrowing his eyes, the tall, thin cultivator sneered, "Xin Shan boy, what brings you here alone?"

"Of course, I'll kill you."

Contrary to his usual behavior, Sheng Nian did not make a move directly, nor did he draw his sword. He merely pushed the hilt of the sword with his thumb, revealing a dark red glint of light.

The tall, thin monk's cold smile froze on his face.

"Insanity!"

He stopped pretending and unleashed a burst of purple spiritual energy from his palms, from which two purple-black chains emerged from his sleeves and swiftly attacked Sheng Nian.

In his prime, he strolled leisurely.

The scabbard touched the ground, and a monstrous wave of demonic energy surged from beneath its feet, scattering the two black-purple chains.

He then drew his sword, lunged forward, and slashed out.

hum-

A violent yet refined sword aura swept across the area. The tall, thin cultivator hurriedly formed hand seals, dodging while simultaneously protecting himself with the chains.

“You’re not practicing some kind of demonic cultivation method. The Xinshan lineage is indeed not orthodox,” the tall, thin cultivator said.

In the prime of life, one remains silent.

After several exchanges, the tall, thin cultivator began to feel something was amiss.

The opponent's sword strikes appeared fierce and violent, but they always lacked power at crucial moments.

Could it be that he was injured and unable to exert his full strength?
But with his injuries, why would he come alone to die...?

A sinister smile crept onto his lips, and he slammed his Qiankun bag, unleashing a beam of dark light.

It turned out to be a small banner.

The small banner suddenly grew larger and then plunged straight into the ground in front of the demonic cultivator.

"I don't care where you came from. If you die under my ghost banner, it's a good thing you didn't waste your cultivation."

The ghost banner fluttered in the wind, and countless twisted demonic energies, some grayish-white and some pitch-black, surged forth from within it.

The moment the flagpole sank into the ground, faint demonic sounds began to echo in the previously silent darkness.

A demon head emerged from the top of the banner, with a blue face and fangs, and ghostly blue flames flickering in its eye sockets.

Even from a distance, one can clearly sense the terrifying demonic energy contained within.

Upon seeing this, Sheng Nian's lips suddenly curled into a dangerous smile.

The demon leader, filled with overwhelming killing intent, charged straight at him.

Sheng Nian did not draw his sword, but instead took half a step back, as if giving someone a little space.

Right now.

A massive, snow-white hand bone emerged from the darkness, its five fingers deeply embedded in the demonic energy, and seized the demon's head!

The tall, thin monk's pupils contracted.

A sharp sword light flashed in the palm of the giant hand bone, and at the same time, the giant hand bone suddenly exerted force.

boom!
He crushed the demon's head with a bang.

"puff--"

The sudden turn of events left no time for anyone to react. The tall, thin cultivator was shaken to his core and spat out a mouthful of foul blood.

The demonic energy that filled the sky paused for a moment, then collapsed with a roar.

A vortex of eerie light shone from the palm of the white bone finger, and the scattered demonic energy, like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea, was drawn into the depths of the vortex.

On the originally pale hand bones, strands of black, vein-like lines gradually appeared.

A gigantic, pitch-black hand gradually took shape as wisps of demonic energy flowed in.

Then, the entire pale white skeleton stepped out of the boundless darkness, like a demon crawling out of hell.

At the same time, two more figures emerged from the darkness.

Beneath the white bone avatar, the young man wore a black-gold Taoist robe, carried a dark blue sword box on his back, and looked at him with a pair of golden eyes that were somewhat indifferent.

The other one, wearing a mask and with a slender figure, was none other than the corpse puppet A Yuan.

The moment he saw Song Yan, the tall, thin cultivator who had collapsed to the ground widened his pupils: "You..."

“You are…” He slightly raised a finger, trembling.

Unfortunately, neither of them seemed to be in the mood to play around with him anymore; at this point, he had lost his usefulness.

"The night is deep."

Sheng Nian stood beside the tall, thin cultivator, looking down at him, and slowly drew his sword: "Brother Lei, you should rest early..."

The deep voice seemed to come from all directions. Every word struck my heart like a heavy hammer.

The tall, thin cultivator was horrified to discover that the protective light shield he had summoned was almost instantly swallowed up by the boundless darkness.

He understood perfectly well.

Both Sheng Nian and Song Yan were far stronger than they had imagined.

I held back initially, just so I could use my own demonic arts to refine my techniques!

The most crucial question is, why would these two join forces?

One is a disciple of one of the six major sects, and the target of the Yellow Springs Path's pursuit.

One of them is a disciple of the demonic cultivator Xinshan Sanren...

These are two completely unrelated people!
At this moment, fear finally surfaced in his eyes, and he screamed hoarsely, "Spare me..."

The blade, carrying the darkness of night, instantly filled his entire field of vision.

hum-

With a flash of light, the tall, thin demonic cultivator's corpse fell to the ground, the severed neck marked with a gruesome knife wound, blood gushing out.

It was immersed in the darkness of this place.

Sheng Nian casually flicked the blood droplets off his sword, a smile playing on his lips: "This sword you gave me is really nice. Where did you get it?"

“I killed a demon cultivator from the Corpse Abyss and took it from his body.”

Song Yan glanced at it and said sarcastically, "He says he's some kind of young master... but his status is about the same as yours."

Sheng Nian was taken aback, wondering if those demon cultivators from Corpse Bone Abyss would seek revenge on him...

The conversation between the two young masters did not affect the progress of the corpse puppet A Yuan's work in the slightest.

At this moment, he had properly disposed of the tall, thin cultivator's remains and had taken the Qiankun bag with him.

There are still many people who are going to die on the mountain. We might as well gather them together and take them out one by one when the young master asks.

The three of them walked up the mountain path, with the corpse puppet A Yuan following silently behind, his steps firm yet quiet.

……

Qingsong Temple, a side hall.

The candlelight in the hall was dim, and the air was filled with a strong, foul odor.

On a huge, round, warm jade bed, there were layers of velvet blankets and messy, torn undergarments.

Heavy breathing echoed inside the side hall.

Three alluring mortal women were seen clinging to the fat Taoist priest, their eyes lifeless, like walking corpses.

The fat Taoist priest lay on his back, stretching out one hand and roughly pressing down on the mortal woman's head.

Hearing her unconscious struggles, he smiled with satisfaction.

He turned his head to look at the other side of the huge jade bed.

Beneath that handsome young demonic cultivator was a mortal woman, but he was not enjoying himself like the fat Taoist was. He closed his eyes slightly, his internal energy circulating.

It seems they are practicing some kind of martial art.

The fat Taoist priest felt heartbroken as he watched the young woman's life force gradually fade away.

"Third brother, you should stop worrying about cultivation at a time like this. How much cultivation can a few mere mortals possibly increase..."

"It's just a few scraps I got from the Hehuan Sect; it won't increase my cultivation much."

The handsome demonic cultivator slowly finished his practice: "However, it's still quite good for honing one's foundation and refining one's magical power."

Looking at the withered skin of the body in front of him, resembling that of an old woman, a hint of disgust flashed in his eyes.

He then tossed it into a corner like trash.

The fat Taoist priest thought it was a pity.

The handsome demonic cultivator casually draped a cloak over his shoulders, then got up from the couch and sat down in a chair.

The fat Taoist stretched his hands to both sides and rubbed them vigorously.

Suddenly, interest flared in his eyes, and he made a hand seal.

The three women were momentarily dazed, but then suddenly came to their senses.

Seeing the scene before them, they all burst into heart-wrenching screams.

"Ha ha ha ha……"

The fat Taoist laughed loudly, grabbed one at random, hugged it to his chest, and then turned it over.

The side hall was filled with tragic wails and lewd sounds.

"Boom, boom, boom."

There was a knock on the door.

"Ok?"

The handsome demonic cultivator frowned and looked towards the door.

Somewhat puzzled, he asked, "Has my older brother returned?"

"It shouldn't be that fast." The fat Taoist priest, panting, continued working with his hands and body, saying, "Which blind fool is coming to find us at this time?"

The handsome demonic cultivator stood up, walked to the door, and opened the door to the side hall.

What came into view were three unfamiliar figures under the moonlight.

The three people stood at the door and looked up at the person who had come in.

Almost instantly, an endless darkness surged in, completely engulfing his vision.

In the boundless darkness of night.

Only a bright, clear moon remained.

(End of this chapter)