In some unknown underground deep within a mountain, a viscous Blood Pool bubbled incessantly. The Blood Demon, clad in a black robe, sat quietly on one side, while countless Demon Dao cultivators soaked in the pool.
There were over a hundred similar Blood Pools. This was a unique method he had developed to enhance others’ cultivation. To outsiders, he called this method the Holy Sacrifice, but its true name was the Blood Puppet.
Simply put, it involved using blood infused with spirit to craft Blood Puppets under the Blood Demon’s control. The Demon Dao practitioners had no idea they were being turned into puppets; they only knew that soaking in the pool allowed their cultivation to grow rapidly. The Demon Dao always walks the extreme path—being able to advance quickly was all that mattered to them.
As for the source of the blood? The Demon Sect wasn’t so naive as to consider themselves allies just because they were from the same sect. Everyone was merely a resource for cultivation.
The Blood Demon didn’t even need to issue orders—new Blood Pools of various sizes were being built daily.
At that moment, a middle-aged man with a commanding presence strode in with tiger-like steps.
"My dear son-in-law, the Demon Sect forces in East Mountain have been completely eradicated, and three new Blood Pools have been established. What do you think..."
The corner of the Blood Demon’s mouth curled into a slight smile beneath his black robe. His voice was calm as always.
"You are Ah Yao’s father. Speak freely about whatever is on your mind."
The middle-aged man sighed deeply. "The decisive battle with the Righteous Dao on the eighth day of the eighth month is fast approaching. You’ve been running around constantly—it’s delaying your cultivation. Why not..."
The Blood Demon understood the man’s implication. He then pulled out a secret book from his sleeve and casually tossed it to the man, saying, "You’re right; I do need to enter seclusion for a while. During this time, you’ll take charge of the Demon Sect, and the construction of the Blood Pools will also be your responsibility."
The middle-aged man suppressed the joy in his heart as he thought of his deceased wife and daughter. He solemnly responded, "Don’t worry, my dear son-in-law. When the time comes, we will annihilate the Righteous Dao and avenge Ah Yao!" Fresh chapters posted on NoveI-Fire.ɴet
With that, he took the secret book and prepared to leave. Just then, the Blood Demon’s voice sounded from behind him. "Handle things however you see fit, but the orders I’ve given before—don’t you dare change a single word."
The middle-aged man’s face froze for a moment, his steps pausing briefly. "Rest assured," he replied.
The Blood Demon left the Blood Pool and returned to his secret chamber. However, he did not embark on any cultivation as he claimed. Instead, he collapsed casually onto his bed, toying with a small bell in his hand.
Beneath the God Slaying Spear, all that remained of Ah Yao were charred bones. Sometimes, Zhang Xiaofan would wonder: What is right? What is wrong?
Ah Yao had approached him to break through the Qingyun Formation and steal the God Slaying Spear. Yet, in the end, she had perished utterly, her soul scattered, all for his sake. Was that right or wrong?
Perhaps in this world, there is no such thing as right or wrong. Ah Yao was merely a tool of her father’s ambition.
The constant struggle between the Righteous Dao and the Demon Dao could only lead to more tragedies. But how could it all be ended? How could such tragedies cease to repeat?
This was a question that even someone as enlightened as Zhang Xiaofan had no answer to. Perhaps in this world, there was no end to conflict. Only the Heavenly Gods and Buddhas, high above, could enjoy true freedom and happiness.
Through the Heavenly Patrol Mirror, Nezha watched the Blood Demon immersed in a sage-like contemplation and couldn’t help but feel amused. Indeed, falling in love too early was inadvisable—you see, such a good child was now pondering the meaning of life.
Gods and Buddhas freely enjoying life?
No, no, no, silly child. The bigger your fists, the freer you are.
...
In the blink of an eye, more than three months had passed. Time had finally reached August. Nezha, having recuperated at Lishan for almost five to six years, had finally returned to peak condition.
This so-called battle between Dao and Demon was deeply connected to him. So, he decided to witness it in person. At his current cultivation, the journey from Lishan to Emei Mountain took only half a day. Once at the battlefield, he realized he wasn’t the only spectator.
"I greet the Great Strength Venerable King Buddha," he said.
"Puxian Senior Brother, you’re too kind," came the reply.
The two hovered in the skies, overlooking the sprawling plains. Below, hordes of Demon Sect forces poured forth, repeatedly spilling foul-smelling blood across the land. The once-lush green grasslands were now eerily tainted with crimson.
With one glance, Nezha immediately recognized this as a severely weakened version of the Blood Sea Formation. For someone at Nezha’s level, the Blood Demon’s intentions were entirely transparent.
On the Righteous Dao’s side, Bai Mei couldn’t discern the Blood Demon’s ultimate plan, but he had already begun countermeasures. One team was assigned to purify the spilled blood, while another deployed a formation. Though he couldn’t directly move the Taiqing God Talisman, his years of study had allowed him to grasp a faint trace of its essence.
Within the ranks of the Demon Dao, the current supreme leader was none other than Ah Yao’s father. Watching the ant-like movements of both the Righteous Dao and Demon Dao forces, he couldn’t suppress a derisive sneer. Righteous Dao? Demon Dao? As long as anyone stronger than him was eliminated, his would be the true path to kingship!
On the third day of August, he decisively activated his prior arrangements, silently commanding a faction of his loyalists to launch a sneak attack on the Righteous Dao forces. Bai Mei, on the Righteous side, reacted without surprise—there was no use expecting someone from the Demon Dao to abide by any sort of covenant, after all.
What began as a small-scale skirmish quickly escalated into a full-blown battle of spells. Sword light, gun light, and the radiance of various techniques erupted all across the plains. The two great formations on either side also activated in succession.
In the face of the collective power of tens of thousands, individual strength began to pale in comparison. Even the likes of Bai Mei, the Chang’an Trio, and the Xuantian Sect—whether equipped with profound cultivation or Immortal Artifacts—dared not recklessly reveal themselves. To do so would mean certain death.
Observing this, the Heavenly Demon Sect leader revealed a satisfied expression. On the seventh day of August, he suddenly activated a trap he had long planted within the formations. The defensive formation of the Demon Dao inexplicably crumbled. The Heavenly Demon Sect leader’s plan was simple—if both sides could suffer mutual destruction, it would be ideal. At worst, if the Blood Demon were killed and the Righteous Dao crippled, it would still be a satisfactory outcome.