Chapter Five: Demonic Nature

Shi Qi was sent flying by the massive swipe of the White Tiger’s paw and landed heavily on the ground.

Bai Qiu, having taken a Water Spirit Pill head-on, was not in much better shape. The force of water element surged recklessly within the White Tiger, and soon, the beast vanished completely. Bai Qiu too collapsed, lying sprawled on the earth.

Gasping for breath, Bai Qiu shouted, “Ha! That was incredible! I haven’t fought like this in ages!”

Shi Qi, lying nearby, was also breathing hard. “Heh… heh…”

Bai Qiu remarked, “That last Water Spirit Pill—you held back, didn’t you?” It was clear the final shot had been aimed at Shi Qi’s leg, not a vital spot.

Shi Qi replied, “And your last strike didn’t aim for my weak point either.” He knew that if the Tiger’s paw had struck his head, he would likely have lost consciousness.

“Brother Shi, that was exhilarating! Hahaha!” Bai Qiu called out, then pulled a jug of wine from his storage pouch, gulped down a few mouthfuls, and tossed the jug onto Shi Qi’s chest.

“Ouch! Watch where you’re throwing!” Shi Qi coughed, but grabbed the jug and drank deeply.

“Good wine! …Hm?”

Suddenly, Shi Qi sensed something within. Suppressing his pain, he sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and turned his awareness inward. He discovered his demon core was spinning wildly of its own accord.

Taking a deep breath, Shi Qi sank into meditation.

“Is he about to break through?” Bai Qiu wondered, seeing Shi Qi sitting motionless on the ground.

“A talent just like me!” Bai Qiu grinned. Despite his aches, he stood, rummaged through his belongings, and produced three talismans. Reciting an incantation and forming a hand seal, he shouted, “Rise!” The talismans shot toward Shi Qi, circling above his head and forming a thin shroud of light that enveloped him.

His task complete, Bai Qiu rubbed his still-aching thigh, then slumped to the ground and fell asleep.

Shi Qi remained deep in meditation. Within him, the crimson demon core spun, radiating surging true energy. He carefully guided the energy through his meridians, feeling its intensity grow. The crimson glow of the core gradually shifted toward orange, and the power flooding his meridians grew wilder, swelling them until a searing ache stabbed through his mind.

Steeling himself, Shi Qi endured the pain and continued to guide the flow. When the core had entirely turned golden orange, its spinning slowed.

If Bai Qiu had been awake, he would have seen Shi Qi’s entire body bathed in orange light—a stark contrast to the human process of Foundation Establishment ascending to Golden Core, which radiated gold, and then only faintly so in the earliest moments. For humans, forming the Golden Core was a gradual, almost imperceptible process. But for demonkind, the inner core was innate, making their cultivation easier than humans, yet it seemed higher existences did not acknowledge their path.

For from ancient times to the present, no demon had ever ascended to immortality. The tribulations they faced in advancing from Blue Core to Violet Core—from minor to major mastery—were many times fiercer than those of humans. After achieving minor mastery, a demon gained tens of thousands of years of life, yet none had ever survived the tribulation to major mastery. The fate of the ancient demons was lost to time, but at least in the past several millennia across the Twelve Continents, no demon had ever survived the tribulation to major mastery—all were reduced to ashes.

Demonkind’s numbers had always been few, in part because of their low reproductive capacity—unlike beasts. Demons were born with inner cores and independent consciousness, capable of cultivation. Beasts lacked both; only a rare few, blessed by nature, might develop a core, but their spiritual progress was sluggish. Only a handful ever refined a complete core and ascended to demonhood.

Thus, demonkind remained sparse. Below minor mastery, experts were many, but above, there was no ceiling—no one had ever broken through.

During the great war between humans and demons tens of thousands of years ago, the demons suffered devastating losses and withdrew into the Vast Ten-Thousand Mountains. Since then, demonkind within the Twelve Continents had been few and peaceful. The rare malevolent ones were hunted down by the major sects, used as training for their disciples or kept as guardians of mountain forests.

Demonkind was marked by one greatest trait: their inherent nature, which varied with their lineage—for better or worse. For instance, serpents were innately lustful, foxes cunning, wolves warlike, cranes benevolent, and so on. As their cultivation deepened, these traits only intensified, becoming ever harder to restrain. To break free, there were only two methods.

The first: self-destruction of the inner core. As the source of their being, once destroyed, a demon would not live beyond twenty years. Even if they cultivated the foundational arts of humanity, their lifespan would not exceed a hundred years, and they would remain at the Foundation Establishment stage forever, for without the core, a Golden Core would never form.

The second: on the outskirts of the Vast Ten-Thousand Mountains was a sect, neither righteous, demonic, nor wicked, known as the Poison Dragon Sect. Over twelve thousand years ago, a thousand-year-old spider demon used the secret art of the Poison Dragon Sect to purge her demonic nature and has since served as a protector for over ten millennia. Ten thousand years ago, a snake demon likewise succeeded under guidance. The method is known throughout the world: deep within the Poison Dragon Sect’s sacred woods, transformed from the ancient World Tree, is the Cloud-Deep Corridor. No flying is possible there; the walk takes about an hour. Only humans may pass through unharmed. Any demon who enters alone will be bound by the World Tree until their spirit is destroyed. Only by holding hands with a human may a demon cross, and upon passing through, their demonic nature is cleansed. The process, however, is agony beyond words. There are degrees: physical pain, said to rival childbirth, and for cultivators, soul-pain. When the soul endures torment, there is no fainting, no escape in death—only ever-increasing agony, as though one’s very spirit were being flayed. For humans, it is torment enough; for demons, it is tenfold worse. Over the years, some have tried, but all ultimately shattered their cores to escape, unable to withstand such pain.

Thus, few ever seek to rid themselves of their nature, and fewer succeed. In all these years, only two demons have ever succeeded.

…

Shi Qi succeeded in advancing to the Orange Core stage, his inner strength more abundant than ever. He opened his eyes, glanced at the still-sleeping Bai Qiu across from him, and up at the protective triple talisman array above. A feeling of gratitude warmed him.

Since childhood, Shi Qi had no friends, only the intrigues of the streets and the guidance of his master. Seeing the boy sleeping peacefully across from him—a companion he’d met only a day before, yet with whom he’d just fought so fiercely—Shi Qi thought, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to have a true friend.