Great Wilderness Demon Lord

Back in his room, Xiao Yunlan closed the doors and windows. He sat cross-legged on the bed again and, following the method of focusing his mind inward in the "Nourishing Qi Technique," tried to slowly sink his consciousness into his body, directing it towards the mysterious place near his dantian.

Gradually, a hazy "inner scene" emerged from the depths of consciousness.

Eight orbs of light, each a different color, like imprisoned stars, floated on fixed trajectories, slowly rotating. Fiery red, deep and cold crimson, wise and profound blue, enigmatic and secretive green, warm and steadfast gold, alluring and seductive pink, vibrant cyan, and deathly and decaying gray… They were linked and imprisoned by even brighter and more complex chains of runes, forming a stable and imposing whole—the Eight Demon-Binding Formations.

As Xiao Yunlan's consciousness tentatively approached, the eight orbs of light trembled slightly at the same time.

A chaotic, cacophony of whispers surged into the depths of his consciousness like a tidal wave, intertwining and overlapping, indistinguishable from one another. It was not sound, but a pure scourge of thoughts—war intent, murderous intent, scheming, cunning, loyalty, desire, vitality, and deathly stillness… eight extreme emotions and concepts, like eight venomous snakes, attempted to burrow into the cracks of his soul.

Despite the stinging pain and dizziness emanating from his mind, Xiao Yunlan focused his will and carefully directed it towards the brightest, most vibrant red orb of light, pulsating with indomitable fighting spirit, uttering a silent question: "Who... are you?"

A brief silence.

Immediately, a torrent of intent as hot as magma surged forth like a burst dam!

It wasn't just sound; it was a fragment of battlefield memory, a mixture of clashing metal, neighing warhorses, and fluttering banners! Xiao Yunlan's consciousness was instantly dragged into a blood-red world—he "saw" endless military formations, heard deafening war drums, felt the tremors of spears piercing flesh, and tasted the salty, metallic flavor of sand and blood on his lips…

"I am the spirit of battle." A hoarse, rough thought, like the friction of metal, mixed with the scent of a thousand years of wind and sand and gunpowder smoke, roared in this blood-red illusion, "The undying will to fight."

Xiao Yunlan gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain clear-headed on the verge of losing consciousness: "Do you have a name?"

"A name?" The thought paused slightly, carrying the bewilderment of someone awakening from a long slumber, before erupting with a resolute sharpness, "I am the pinnacle of courage, the ultimate master of battle. My name—Huo Piao Yao!"

Huo Biao Yao!

The name struck Xiao Yunlan like a thunderbolt. The name of the young war god in his past life's history books, who had sealed the wolf's lair and whose ambition could swallow ten thousand miles, had transformed into a demonic thought that was imprisoned.

Along with this name came an even stronger surge of fighting spirit and memories—battlefields that didn't belong to him, yet felt as if he had personally experienced them; the battle instincts he had honed through countless trials; and the almost obsessive thirst for victory and glory…

"What about the other seven?" Xiao Yunlan tried to ask, suppressing the throbbing pain in his mind caused by the surge of fighting spirit.

"The others?" Huo Biaoyao, the valiant demon, revealed a clear sense of estrangement and wariness, even a hint of barely perceptible contempt. "Just prisoners. Some are my adversaries, others... not on the same path as me."

Xiao Yunlan wanted to ask more, but he sensed the mental channel connecting him to the red light suddenly tighten—eight rune chains lit up simultaneously, restricting further communication. He stopped pressuring and slowly withdrew his consciousness.

When he opened his eyes, the room was already dimly lit. Xiao Yunlan's back was soaked with cold sweat, his temples throbbed, and a burning sensation from the battle raging lingered in his mind.

But at the same time, a strange feeling spread through his body—his five senses became unusually sharp. The swaying of bamboo leaves outside the window, the hushed conversations of servants in the distance, and even the movement of dust particles floating in the air were all as clear as if magnified several times over.

When he clenched his fist, the power surging in his muscles was more than 30% stronger than before he lost consciousness!

Is this the "benefit" brought about by demonic thoughts?

Xiao Yunlan looked down at his palm, his fingers clearly defined and his palm lines distinct. His brief encounter with Yongjue Mo had not only taught him the name of one of the demonic thoughts, but also allowed him to "taste" the power boost and enhanced perception brought by battle intent.

But the price was equally clear—just as he was experiencing this strange change, deep within his dantian, the dark red, blood-like ball of light was pulsating slightly, conveying a chilling, bone-deep hunger. That was the will of the Killing Demon, which had begun to awaken after "smelling" the aura of battle intent.

Xuan Chengzi's warning echoed in his ears: "When you use your strength, you must maintain balance."

Xiao Yunlan took a deep breath, suppressing the tremor in his heart caused by the increase in power. Eight demonic thoughts, eight names, eight desires. He had only glimpsed one of them, yet he could already sense the double-edged sword nature of this power system—it grants you extraordinary acumen and potential, but it also constantly covets your soul.

He rose and walked to the window, gazing at the bamboo shadows swaying in the twilight of the courtyard. A month later, the Great Wilderness was in sight. On that perilous wasteland, these eight demonic thoughts might become his only reliance—provided he could control them, rather than be devoured by them.

The ironclad law of balance is clear: to conquer with overwhelming force, one must pay with bloodshed. To strategize with wisdom, one must tolerate deceit and trickery. Every instance of borrowing power is a deal with the devil.

The road ahead is fraught with thorns, and every step must be carefully considered.

But the feeling of increased power... is like the strongest liquor, burning the throat when you drink it, but leaving an unforgettable aftertaste.

Xiao Yunlan closed his eyes, once again feeling the power within his body, which had increased by 30%. He knew he was standing on a dangerous edge—one step back meant the shackles of mediocrity and security, one step forward meant the abyss of power and loss of control.

He opened his eyes, a resolute glint in them.

Taking a deep breath of the slightly cool air, Xiao Yunlan turned around and returned to the edge of the bed, sitting cross-legged again and closing his eyes.

This time, his consciousness cautiously and resolutely probed the dark red light that exuded a cold, deathly aura.

Since we are destined to coexist with them, we might as well take the initiative to understand them—understand the desires of each "prisoner," understand their power, and also understand... how to control them.

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On the afternoon of the third day after Xiao Yunlan moved into Tingzhuxuan, his elder brother Xiao Yunyuan came to visit him.

Xiao Yunyuan was two years older than Xiao Yunlan. He inherited Liu's delicate features, but with an added touch of refined elegance cultivated by his scholarly background. Today, he wore a moon-white brocade robe with cloud patterns, a jade belt around his waist, and a crystal-clear jade pendant hanging from it. He moved silently, displaying the demeanor of a legitimate son carefully nurtured by a noble family.

He sat down on a pearwood chair in the hall, his demeanor composed. After the maidservant served him tea, she quietly withdrew, leaving only the two brothers in the hall.

"Second brother," Xiao Yunyuan said gently, "are you feeling much better?"

"I'm fine now, thank you for your concern, brother," Xiao Yunlan replied, while subtly observing the other. Thanks to his enhanced perception after contact with Yongjue Mo, he could clearly "see" a layer of clear and peaceful light blue aura surrounding Xiao Yunyuan—that was the "Qi field" that naturally manifested after cultivating the orthodox Taoist spirit-cultivation technique to a certain level, indicating that his elder brother's cultivation was already among the best of his generation.

"My mother asked me to come and take a look." Xiao Yunyuan took a delicate sandalwood box from the servant, placed it on the table, and pushed it in front of Xiao Yunlan. "This is a box of 'Red Ginseng Blood-Strengthening Ointment,' an external medicine that can strengthen muscles and bones and nourish blood and qi. The borderlands are harsh and cold, and martial arts are paramount, so this might come in handy."

Xiao Yunlan opened the box, revealing ten neatly arranged dark brown pastes, emitting a rich aroma of ginseng mixed with other medicinal herbs. These weren't particularly rare elixirs, but they were the most practical and common aids for low-level martial artists to solidify their foundations; their value was moderate, but their purpose was genuine.

"Thank you, brother." He closed the lid, his fingertips brushing against the cool surface of the sandalwood box. At the same time, deep within his dantian, the blue light representing "medicine" stirred slightly, conveying a vague sense of "recognition"—as if instinctively knowing the age and compatibility of the main ingredients in the ointment.

This is yet another strange ability brought about by demonic thoughts.

Xiao Yunyuan remained silent for a moment, his fingertips lightly tracing the rim of the teacup, before looking up at Xiao Yunlan, his tone more solemn than before: "Thank you... this time."

He was referring to the act of using himself as bait.

"It's just a transaction, each getting what they need." Xiao Yunlan shook his head, his tone calm. "Since I've already gotten what I wanted, there's no question of owing anything."

Xiao Yunyuan gazed at him for a moment, then finally sighed softly, "In any case, thank you. The Great Wilderness... is no safe place; be cautious in all things." He said no more, rose to take his leave. The figure in moon-white robes passed through the courtyard and disappeared beyond the bamboo shadows, appearing noble and distant.

Xiao Yunlan withdrew his gaze and placed the sandalwood box aside. This gift was perhaps the greatest expression of goodwill that his gentle elder brother could convey amidst the strict rules and complex interpersonal relationships of the aristocratic family.