Volume One: The Sword of the Son of Heaven Chapter 9: Humans Are More Frightening Than Demons

In the Hall of the Apothecary, under Yun Que’s command, all the Daoists gathered in the courtyard.

There were just over a dozen of them, all quite young, their eyes dull and lifeless like puppets whose strings had been cut. Only one, slightly older than the rest, kept his head bowed, his gaze flickering with unease.

After instructing the others to disperse, Yun Que approached the older Daoist and said, “Where’s the woman you abducted? Lead the way.”

Panic flashed across the Daoist’s face. He glanced furtively at the alchemist Daoist, and seeing no objection—almost as if tacitly permitted Yun Que’s questioning—he nodded repeatedly and led the way to a rockery in the rear courtyard.

The Daoist groped for a hidden mechanism. With a muffled thud, a secret door swung open.

So, this rockery was in fact a concealed passage.

“You go first,” Yun Que commanded.

The Daoist kept his head lowered as he led the way, soon bringing them before a stone door. When it opened, a stench of rot and blood assaulted them.

The Daoist darted inside ahead of them, stuffing something into his mouth and swallowing it before rolling to the side, curling up in the corner and moving no more.

It was a spacious secret chamber, sparsely furnished with only a stone bed and a stone table. On the table, an oil lamp flickered, casting weak light.

In the dim glow, one could make out a withered skeleton seated cross-legged upon the stone bed.

It was the alchemist Daoist’s true body!

Yun Que’s suspicions were confirmed—the Daoist’s true body had long since perished.

Hiss—hiss—hiss.

A sinister sound slithered forth as hideous, monstrous serpents crawled out from the shadows of the chamber.

Their scales were silver, their eyes blood-red, exuding a chilling, decayed aura.

As the snakes emerged, the heaps of white bones piled in the corners were crushed and shifted, creaking under the weight.

So the women abducted to the Apothecary Hall had already become these monsters’ food!

“These aren’t ordinary snakes,” Old He muttered, gripping his blade and bracing himself for battle, his expression grim.

Though he’d taken over the alchemist Daoist’s body, he had no way of commanding these monstrous serpents.

“Demonic beasts…” Yun Que could feel the dreadful aura radiating from the snakes.

With so many demonic beasts surrounding them, a low-level cultivator had no hope of survival.

These demonic serpents had been bred specifically to guard the skeleton of the alchemist Daoist’s true body.

Any living being that entered would be devoured.

The secret chamber beneath the Apothecary Hall had become a deathtrap!

“It seems whatever you swallowed can conceal your aura. You knew there were serpent demons here,” Yun Que remarked, glancing at the Daoist curled up in the corner.

“No matter who you are, don’t think you’ll get out alive,” the Daoist whispered, his tone thick with malicious satisfaction.

The serpent demons, though numerous, encircled only Yun Que, ignoring the Daoist in the corner entirely.

Old He’s body was nothing but a corpse—the serpent demons had no interest in the dead.

Yun Que, however, was very much alive, and immediately became their favored prey.

Old He stepped in front, ready to fight to the death.

As the monstrous beasts closed in, Yun Que gathered the power of the Sword Vein.

“I may not know how to hide my aura, but I doubt these serpent demons will care for mine.”

As sword energy radiated from him, the serpents that had slithered to his feet abruptly recoiled as if shocked, shrinking back and fleeing.

Faced with the deadly power contained in his sword energy, they’d sooner starve than taste it.

The serpents’ strange reaction left the Daoist in the corner thunderstruck.

He had swallowed a pill to suppress his aura, so as not to provoke the demonic snakes. Yet the young man before him, having taken nothing, actually frightened the monsters into retreat!

Could he not be alive at all?

Still reeling from shock, the Daoist found Yun Que standing before him, sword slowly raised.

“Tell me everything you know.”

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” the Daoist sputtered, immediately confessing.

He was, in fact, the true master of the Apothecary Hall. Several years ago, the alchemist Daoist had seized the place, relegating him to the role of servant, responsible for feeding the serpent demons.

As for the alchemist Daoist’s origins, he knew nothing.

Kicking at a skull by his foot, Yun Que said with a half-smile, “Feeding snakes, and you use only young women? Seems the master here isn’t particularly fond of women.”

The alchemist Daoist was only a projection, lacking organs and gender, so the pleasures of the flesh were clearly meaningless to him.

The Daoist stammered awkwardly, “Young women… their flesh is more tender. The serpent demons prefer it.”

“No, it’s you who prefers it.”

Yun Que picked up a skull and, still smiling, asked, “Well? How do they taste—sour, sweet, bitter, or spicy?”

“This…” The Daoist fell silent, guilt written all over his face.

With a crack, Yun Que broke off a fragment of the skull and thrust it into the Daoist’s mouth.

“Eat it all, and then tell me how it tastes.”

His chilling words, like a ghost’s whisper, made the Daoist tremble from head to toe. Daring not to spit it out, he chewed the bone, blood dribbling from his mouth.

Yun Que then turned his attention to the remains on the stone bed.

He rummaged through and found several objects:

A wooden box, a small vial, and a token.

Inside the box lay ten miniature swords, each the length of a finger—clearly of high quality.

The token was small, exceedingly sturdy, with a snake carved on the front and the twelve signs of the zodiac on the back.

The vial was heavy; Yun Que did not open it immediately.

Aside from these, there was nothing else near the remains.

After searching thoroughly, Yun Que frowned.

Given the alchemist Daoist’s level, these couldn’t be all.

The miniature swords in the wooden box were merely magical implements—more like bait to ensnare the greedy.

Such a meager hoard, along with the surrounding serpent demons, might satisfy others, who would leave content with their prize.

But Yun Que was different!

As a marquis, he’d seen wealth and treasure since childhood. Even faced with the riches of the cultivation world, he remained unfazed.

And now, with the serpent demons fearing him rather than threatening him, he had all the time he needed to search for the true treasure.

He turned the chamber inside out but found nothing more.

At last, Yun Que’s gaze settled on the remains themselves.

He gripped the skeleton and channeled sword energy through his palm, enveloping the bones.

“Sword energy perception! Master, you truly are a genius in the sword,” Old He murmured approvingly.

In a single day, this young marquis, novice in the sword, had already mastered such a profound technique—how could Old He not be pleased?

Soon, Yun Que detected something amiss.

He seized a section of the spine and wrenched it loose.

Opening his palm, he found within the splintered bone a tiny sword, pulsing with life.

A magical implement would never move on its own.

Only a true spiritual treasure, brimming with energy, would resonate and tremble like a living thing.

On the sword was inscribed the character “Serpent.”

The cunning alchemist Daoist had hidden his true treasure inside the vertebrae.

“Splendid!” Yun Que was elated.

Certain there was nothing left to find, he returned to the Daoist in the corner.

“How does it taste?” Yun Que asked with a frosty smile.

Blood smeared across his lips, the Daoist shook his head in terror, unable to speak.

With a casual slash, Yun Que carved several shallow wounds on the man, watching the fresh blood drip as he stated coldly:

“There is a taste—it is the taste of death.”

Boom.

The stone door slammed shut.

With blood pouring from his wounds, the Daoist’s aura of life returned, rendering the pill he had swallowed useless. The serpent demons in the chamber raised their heads, tongues flickering.

Soon, agonized screams and the sounds of hideous devouring echoed from within the stone chamber.

“Scum like you deserve a fate worse than death!” Old He spat. “Such filth should be flayed alive and made a warning to all!”

Yun Que walked on through the dark passage. His face could not be seen in the gloom—only a distant, somber whisper reached the ear.

“Man will always be more terrifying than monster.”