Why are all of us who transmigrated at the same time demons?

It was a tremor in the bone marrow, a sob of the earth's veins, a cold spark ignited by countless lingering obsessions in the eternal night.

The first thing that catches the ear is the chorus of "The Newly Deceased".

Their songs are thick and warm, still carrying the lingering echo of life.

Loran could hear the whispers of their flesh and blood: cells shutting down one by one, like millions of houses going out of order, emitting a faint, disintegrating lament; the still-warm blood flowing slowly, like an underground river about to freeze, singing a duet about warmth and end.

Though their hearts no longer beat the battle drums, deep within their marrow, millions of surviving people continue their final work. They release their last energy, like extinguished stars still casting their afterglow upon the universe—a whisper of biomass.

The "Soul Mark" still lingered on the corpse.

Intense thoughts, profound emotions, and unfulfilled obsessions—these "form fields" etched onto the body by life's full effort do not immediately dissipate with the cessation of breathing.

Like magnetic powder on a cassette tape, they stubbornly adhere to the remains.

Their songs still retain fragments of the world—an unspoken love word, the last agonizing pain from a hideous scar, transformed into the sharp high notes of the song; while the lingering attachment to the last glimpse of the mortal world settles into a long and empty sigh.

Then came the hymn of "The Decayers".

Their songs are deeper, having become one with the earth and the insects.

A feast for microorganisms resounds within them, a grand and bustling decomposition symphony: fat transforms into flowing rivers, muscle disintegrates into fertile soil, and bones are gently pulverized over time, each moment bursting forth with a subtle, dust-like tribute.

Their songs are no longer complaints, but celebrations, a grand ceremony marking the return from the "individual" to the "all things." The songs are filled with the earthy sweetness and the quiet madness of the spreading mycelium.

What ultimately shook Loran's soul was the battle song of the "fellow travelers" and the "call of the earth".

Those beings who, like Loran, broke free from the fate of pure extinction and walked the path of zombies.

When a corpse is placed in a specific environment—an extremely yin burial site, an ancient tomb where spirits gather, or a place where dragon veins converge—it begins to resonate with the earth on a geological level.

The immense energy flowing through the earth's veins will "re-tun" the corpse, much like re-tuning a musical instrument.

Its skeleton becomes a receiving antenna, and its meridians become energy channels.

At this moment, it no longer spoke, but began to chant—chanting ancient songs that the earth had taught it about “immortality” or “mutation.”

This is the true prelude to the emergence of zombies, the critical point at which corpses shift from passive decomposition to active "evolution".

Their songs are the roar of the law.

The song of the path of victory is a burning wasteland, a torrent of magma flowing beneath a cracked earth, every note steaming with moisture, calling for an eternal drought.

The song of the Scale Path is a whirlpool at the bottom of the Netherworld, a cold wave of the Yellow Springs River, its melody intertwined with the rust of sunken ships and the sighs of the dead.

Mao's songs are the heartbeat of towering mountains, the roar of metal striking stone, full of indomitable savagery and power enough to tear the sky apart.

The song of Yu Zhi Tu is a fierce wind that pierces through the bones of the heavens, a cold moonlight tainted by the aura of corpses, ethereal yet deadly, containing the ultimate nothingness within transcendence.

The song of Kun's Journey is the opening and closing of trillions of insect mandibles, the chaotic storm of insect wings vibrating, a will governing thousands of voices, jointly proclaiming the truth that "division is eternity".

Loran remained silent, fully activating the Yin Spirit's perception.

These countless songs surged towards Loran from all directions, from the depths of the underworld.

They are not a harmonious symphony, but rather a symphony filled with struggle, pain, anger, and icy longing. They converge into a silent, surging River Styx.

With decay as its prelude and immortality as its final chapter, in this eternal silence, a requiem is sung—a most poignant hymn dedicated to the living, one that only the dead can hear.

In the ruins of the tombs, all was silent. But for Loran, this silence was a different kind of thunder.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration, like a bolt of cold lightning cleaving through the chaos of the night, exploded in his mind.

It wasn't that he was listening to the ballad, but rather that the ballad, through his presence, was "listening" to itself.

All sounds, all forms, all movements and stillness have their own inherent "rules".

Naturally, an ancient and noble name emerged from the depths of his soul, as clear as if it had been engraved there since time imprinted.

"The Nine Netherworlds Listen to the Edict of the Dead"

Loran's mind stirred slightly, and he tried to "respond".

Thus, every tiny crack on the bones of the deceased began to tell him of the thousands of years of wind and frost it had endured; the countless slumbering souls of insects sleeping in the soil beneath his feet transformed their brief lives and deaths into a vast, murky epic about existence and extinction.

He heard the dust of history sighing, and the cold, ethereal sound of time itself slipping through his fingers. At that moment, nothing in the world held any secret from him.

He looked at a weathered giant rock not far away.

With a change of heart, I stopped listening to its solid appearance and instead delved into its interior to capture the faint connections and vibrations between the billions of mineral molecules.

He found it; it was a slow, heavy "structural sound," like the snoring of a sleeping giant.

So he focused his mind and gently sent a new note, representing "decomposition" and "dispersion," into the inherent "rhythm."

No loud noise, no smoke or dust.

In his "eyes," the giant rock's internal tight connections seemed to have been stripped of their bones, silently softening and collapsing from its core, eventually turning into a uniform layer of gravel, as if it had been weathered here for millennia.

He did not destroy it; he merely played another, accelerated "Chapter of Time" that belonged to it.

Loran raised his eyes and said.

"It feels pretty good! Unfortunately, it's not what I want!"

"The Nine Netherworld Edict of the Underworld" is indeed powerful, a first-class path to the underworld gods, but Loran only uses it as a reference and would never be completely immersed in it.

Because Loran realized that this was a way for Heaven and Earth to appease him.

Heaven and Earth were not recruiting him, a celestial demon from beyond the realm, but rather a monster unlike any seen before.

It's not impossible to recruit this pure and unparalleled demon into your ranks, pull him back from the path of demons and heretics to the path of the underworld gods, and make him the ruler of the netherworld from then on.

The position of the god of the underworld is never given for free; the way of the gods emphasizes the correspondence between power and responsibility.

Having received the benefits from the God of the Underworld, it was natural for him to begin cleaning up the mess in the world. For example, he would establish the Netherworld, separating the living from the dead, balancing the Yin and Yang energies of the world, and ensuring a clear order among humans, gods, ghosts, and demons, so that demons would no longer run rampant in the world.

Loran isn't stupid, why would he want to work for Heaven and Earth?

He's just a god of the underworld; the Lorans have all been gods before, it's nothing special.

On the contrary, being a carefree demon suits Loran's heart better.

Suddenly, he looked up at the mortal realm and saw the Divine Tiger Lord, who had been driven back to the Netherworld by the Flying Fairy, and heard His unrestrained and vicious laughter and declaration.

Loran's face showed no obvious emotional fluctuation, only a very subtle, almost imperceptible frown, as if he had seen a noisy insect disturbing some kind of tranquility.

He wasn't angry, nor did he think it was anything to worry about; he simply uttered two words, almost to himself, as if brushing away a speck of dust:

The Divine Tiger Lord, who had just returned and was about to vent his anger at the setbacks in the human world, suddenly froze. A primal fear, originating from the instinct of life, seized his entire mind!

It sensed an absolute will that transcended the netherworld and surpassed life and death, which had already locked onto it.

Then, a strange scene happened.

Above the dark and sunless underworld, there was no wind, no energy fluctuations, yet "ashes" began to fall silently.

It wasn't snow, nor dust, but rather the grayish-white ashes that filled the sky like after countless paper money and ingots were burned at a grand funeral, carrying lingering warmth and the aura of death! It also resembled the ashes of the deceased, scorched by a great fire and then swept up by a strong wind.

This grayish-white color is a complete, lifeless, deathly white, the color of the end of all things.

These white demons are not blown by the wind; they are the embodiment of the concept of "falling"—gentle, dense, and silent, yet carrying a suffocating sense of death and closure.

They ignored space and barriers, appearing out of thin air and then slowly and irresistibly covering the area where the Divine Tiger Venerable was.

The Divine Tiger Lord let out a horrified roar, attempting to activate the laws of the underworld and unleash a torrent of ghostly energy to scatter these "ashes".

However, when its power touched the seemingly light and airy white evil spirits, it was like burning joss paper, silently dimming and disintegrating, turning into more white evil spirits that joined the falling ranks!

The white demon landed on its indestructible Netherworld Armor, and the armor immediately lost all its luster, becoming gray and fragile, before peeling off piece by piece and crumbling into dust like burnt paper.

When the white demon touched its fur and flesh, which contained terrifying power, the flesh immediately withered, shrank, and faded, as if it had undergone a thousand years of decay in an instant, turning into the same gray-white dust.

Its powerful soul tried to break free from its dying body, but was instead enveloped and permeated by more white evil spirits. The spiritual light of its soul, like a dying ember extinguished by water, quickly dimmed and eventually returned to a deathly gray-white.

Throughout the entire process, there were no screams, and no room for struggle.

Only the silent, funeral-like white demons, with a solemn yet terrifying demeanor, gently and thoroughly covered, decomposed, and assimilated a powerful underground lord.

It was like a grand, silent funeral held just for it, and these white ghosts were the ashes of the funeral paper money, as well as the grave soil that buried it.

In a short while, the enormous figure of the Divine Tiger Lord could no longer be seen on the spot, leaving only a slightly raised "mound" made of grayish-white dust.

Then, even the "grave" quietly flattened itself and merged into the underworld, as if nothing had ever happened.

A powerful underworld lord, simply for uttering an extra word, was completely erased from existence by this inexplicably appearing white demon, imbued with ominous funeral imagery, leaving not even a trace behind.

Chapter 263 Demonic Chaos: Ten Capitals and Three Heavens

Flying Fairy led the disciples of Qingxiao Palace through the war-torn human world. What he faced was not only ordinary demons and ghosts, but also many strange beings that even this well-read celestial master found unfamiliar and unsettling.

He had encountered a red-haired monster similar to those described in the records of Qingxiao Palace in the ruins of the ancient immortal dynasty. Its madness and ominousness were so similar to his master's later years, but it seemed to be more aggressive and had a certain... "purpose".

He once saw countless white demons falling from the sky in a country shrouded in utter silence. Wherever they passed, everything fell silent, even the lingering echoes of souls were erased. That sight reminded him of some ancient, terrifying legends about ultimate nothingness.

He once fought a fierce battle with a demon whose body was covered in viscous black blood. That black blood was extremely filthy, capable of polluting spiritual energy, corroding magical artifacts, and even seemed to possess its own consciousness.

He also caught a glimpse of humanoid creatures with strange purple spots on their bodies in the distance. They moved like ghosts, could distort space, and spread maddening whispers.

What terrified Fei Xianzi even more was the way these bizarre beings enhanced their power—through sacrifice. They could rapidly absorb power by guiding or forcing living beings to perform bloody and twisted sacrificial rituals.

What's most chilling is that if they kill a powerful cultivator or demon, they can contaminate the corpse with their unique blood (red hair, black blood, etc.), and in a short time, bring the corpse back to life, giving birth to a brand new, yet absolutely loyal, powerful individual!

"These are definitely not demons born of nature!" After a cleanup operation, Fairy Fei looked at the ravaged land, her heart filled with exhaustion and chill. "They seem to be... weapons 'manufactured' by some kind of will, growing stronger with each battle!"

He began to seriously suspect that the "Transcending Tribulation Heavenly Skill" that Zu Qingxiaozi had obtained back then was by no means an isolated case.

Those ancient and seemingly glorious celestial dynasties and holy lands probably also contained similar "heavenly manuals" originating from indescribable sources within their core heritage.

When he fought against some particularly powerful monsters with traces of ancient supernatural powers, he vaguely sensed the shadows of some "familiar faces"—clearly some long-lost secret techniques belonging to some ancient holy land, but presented in such a distorted and filthy form!

"Could it be... that we cultivators who have been painstakingly pursuing the Great Dao have been on a carefully designed, misguided path leading to monsters from the very beginning?" This thought gnawed at his Dao heart like a venomous snake.

Has the foundation of everything he fought for and protected already rotted away? Were the "demons" he slayed, in some sense, merely "sacrifices" that had "matured" earlier than him?

The immense sense of emptiness and self-doubt nearly crushed this brilliant and ambitious Taoist master.

Just as Fairy Fei was exhausted and sighing at the moon atop Qingxiao Palace, nearly losing her Dao heart, a sudden change occurred.

High above, a dazzling celestial light of indescribable color pierced through the clouds, ignoring the palace's numerous restrictions, and fell directly into the hands of the flying fairy.

The celestial light receded, transforming into a **talisman** that was neither gold nor jade, and was engraved with countless profound celestial patterns. The talisman felt warm to the touch, yet it contained supreme majesty.

A grand yet gentle thought resounded directly within his primordial spirit: "Flying Fairy, a cultivator from the lower realm, cares deeply for all living beings and possesses a profound foundation in the Dao. She is worthy of the Mandate of Heaven. Quickly condense your primordial spirit and follow the imperial decree to ascend to Heaven!"

The fairy was greatly shaken and dared not be negligent. She immediately sat cross-legged and her primordial spirit left her body. The talisman transformed into a golden bridge, guiding her primordial spirit through the endless void barrier, and in an instant, she arrived at an indescribably glorious place—the Heavenly Palace.

Before him lay the Golden Palace of the Clouds, the Lingxiao Hall, paved with glazed tiles, adorned with precious jade, with celestial maidens holding fans and divine generals patrolling the court. On that supreme throne, a being shrouded in endless divine light, his face blurred yet his majesty filling heaven and earth—a certain emperor of the upper realm—looked down upon him.

The Emperor did not say much. He extended a finger, and a point of golden light containing infinite mysteries entered the immortal's primordial spirit.

In an instant, a vast sea of ​​information flooded into his senses—the "General Outline of the Three-Day Righteous Law," the "Proclamation to Punish the Ten Capitals," the "Secret Essentials of the Qingling Divine Talisman"... countless supreme secret texts concerning the origin of heaven and earth and the subjugation of demons by righteous energy were revealed to him.

Through the message conveyed by the Emperor, Fairy Fei finally understood what the terrifying shadow hanging over Qingxiao Palace and even the entire human cultivation world was.

The so-called "Ten Capitals" are not a specific force or location, but rather "ten strange sources" that permeate the world, a "collection of evil energy" that defies the laws of heaven and distorts the laws of nature.

Their origins are unknown, and their roots are deeply hidden, so much so that even the celestial immortals have long been unable to fully unravel them.

Their methods of growth are extremely covert and vicious—they take advantage of the ancient human traditions of "becoming an immortal after death through corpse dissolution" and "cultivating in the tomb" to quietly spread bizarre techniques like the "Transcending Tribulation Heavenly Skill," which seem to lead directly to immortality but actually contain hidden curses.

"The 'Heavenly Skills' you cultivate are actually bait for the 'Evil Qi of the Ten Capitals'." The Emperor's thoughts carried a heavy tone. "They use your bodies to cultivate, and you absorb spiritual energy, endure tribulations, and temper your Dao bodies and primordial spirits. In reality, you are merely cultivating 'fruits' for the 'Ten Capitals' to ripen! When your cultivation is profound, or when you are old, it will be time for them to harvest you. You will either transform into red-haired monsters or become other strange beings, and your entire cultivation and Dao fruits will become resources to nourish the 'Ten Capitals'. This is an evil art that steals the creation of heaven and earth and reverses Yin and Yang!"

Fei Xianzi felt a chill run down her spine. So this was the root of the tragic fate of the ancestors of Qingxiao Palace! They hadn't offended anyone; from the very beginning, they had been kept as "sacrifices"!

"I hereby bestow upon you the 'Three Heavens Righteous Law,' to establish the orthodoxy of the 'Celestial Master,' to destroy mountains and temples, and to punish the rebellious Ten Capitals! To establish the righteous spirit of the Three Heavens and sweep away the demonic influence throughout the world!" The Emperor's decree was like thunder, bestowing upon the Flying Fairy and her Azure Cloud Palace a brand new mission.

As her primordial spirit returned to her physical body, the Flying Fairy opened her eyes. Her eyes were no longer filled with confusion; instead, they held an unprecedented firmness and clarity.

Upon returning to Qingxiao Palace, he immediately began sweeping reforms.

With the divinely bestowed "Three Heavens Righteous Law," he reorganized the Taoist tradition, gradually peeling away and sealing the strange parts hidden in the "Azure Sky Righteous Path Scripture" passed down in the palace, which originated from the "Crossing Tribulation Heavenly Skill," and instead using the pure Three Heavens Righteous Qi as the core.

He widely distributed talismans and commanded spirits, establishing a complete new system of cultivation and duties centered on "exorcising evil, curing diseases, averting disasters, and saving lives."

From then on, the title of "Celestial Master" of Qingxiao Palace began to truly transform into the image of the "Celestial Master" in ancient legends, who acted on behalf of Heaven and ruled the righteous law.

They are no longer merely cultivators pursuing personal ascension, but also "executors" who maintain the order of heaven and earth and vanquish evil.

The Flying Fairy proclaimed to the world the scourge of the "Ten Capitals' Evil Qi" (of course, she concealed most of the heavenly secrets to avoid causing panic and greater turmoil), and called on the righteous path to unite and punish the strange phenomenon originating from the "Ten Capitals".

He personally led the transformed disciples of Qingxiao Palace, using the "Three Days of Righteous Law" as their foundation and the divine talismans bestowed by the Emperor as their weapons, to systematically and purposefully eliminate all kinds of bizarre monsters that rapidly grew stronger through sacrifices and polluted corpses to create soldiers.

The road ahead remains difficult. The infiltration of the "Ten Capitals" is far deeper than imagined. Many forces that have obtained strange techniques have become too powerful to control, and some even relish them.

But the Fairy has found her direction. Holding the Heavenly Scripture and bearing the mandate of Heaven, she vows to sever this evil chain that has stretched for eternity, and to carve out a peaceful world for the Azure Sky Palace and for this world!