Nearly a month had elapsed since Feng Zhiming had declared his support for Raja. During this time, he had been personally instructing him, a mentorship that proved invaluable. Under Feng Zhiming’s guidance, Raja’s Qi control had skyrocketed in proficiency, allowing him to advance from the peak of Foundation Establishment to the Quasi Ethereal Core realm a remarkable feat in such a short span.
Of course this also had to do with the mysterious luck that Raja possessed, Feng Zhiming's guidance alone would not allow such explosive growth.
In making this commitment, Feng Zhiming had adjusted his ambitions, narrowing his focus from finding three worthy disciples to placing all his hopes on Raja. If Raja succeeded in the trials ahead, Feng Zhiming would secure the Seal of Beast Suppression from the sect’s armory.
Amidst a field of greenery, Feng Zhiming found himself back in his original body, engrossed in an experiment. Before him lay the tainted core he had recovered from the beast that had attacked him in the Wildlands. The core was unlike any other he had encountered. While most cores would remain in stasis, holding onto the last remnants of their host's Qi, this one writhed and pulsed in his hands, sprouting roots of flesh that sought something to latch onto.
Kura watched curiously from behind, her gaze fixed on the core.
“It seems like the work of the Lord of Viscera and Flesh,” she observed.
“Another being like your lord? Wonderful,” Feng Zhiming muttered sarcastically as he continued to examine the core.
Recognizing its uniqueness, he decided to test its potential. Raising his hand, he summoned a nearby rabbit, pulling it gently into his grip. With precision, he made an incision in the rabbit’s abdomen and carefully inserted the writhing core.
{You’re too curious for your own good,} the Scholar of Black cautioned, watching the scene unfold.
“Hush up and watch,” Feng Zhiming replied, his focus unwavering.
The rabbit, which had moments before appeared lifeless, began to twitch violently. Its once snow-white fur darkened to a deep crimson, and a palpable rage flickered in its eyes. But just as it seemed to regain awareness, its body imploded, sending a spray of blood across Feng Zhiming.
Unfazed, he wiped the blood from his face, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation. “I see,” he murmured, his voice calm and measured. He retrieved the core from the remains and placed it back into his storage ring, a strange idea beginning to form in his mind.
…
As night fell, Feng Zhiming found himself in Ryes’s abode, reading over the last entries in the Heavenly Demon’s book:
Archives of Truth: The Heavenly Demon and the Wisp of Rebellion
After his ascension, the Heavenly Demon was assailed from all sides. The primordials wished him dead. The Abyssals sought his demise. The Ancient Beasts born of chaos wanted to swallow him whole. The Heaven Born Giants sought to crush him beneath their feet. Even the fairies of the Laplace Domain desired his annihilation.
Yet, the Heavenly Demon lived. In the Epoch of Equilibrium, he was utterly unmatched, an existence beyond the confines of strength, of combat, of battle. His power was so immense that none could contest him.
He was the truest of demons, a butcher of the greatest degree. Wherever he set foot, death followed, as if by law.
His motivations were unclear, as though his sole purpose for living was the extermination of all life in the higher realms.
And then, his sudden disappearance was as haunting as his presence had been terrifying. The primordials summoned their godly monarch in a desperate effort to end his reign. In a final act of sacrifice, the godly monarch sealed the Heavenly Demon, trapping him in a rapture of space unknown.
But I believe the Heavenly Demon was not one to fall so easily. He was an existence born to dominate. Tactics alone could not have brought about his downfall. Yet, he did fall. In his final moments, he left behind a riddle that has baffled even the wisest among us:
"Die once, live thrice; die thrice, live true."
These words elude my understanding. I know not what he meant.
Feng Zhiming meditated on these cryptic words. "Die once, live thrice; die thrice, live true," he repeated to himself as he bit down on an apple, trying to comprehend their meaning.
{Forget it, even I am at a loss,} the Scholar of Black confessed.
“Old man, this Heavenly Demon. He clearly said ‘live thrice,’ did he not?”
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
{Hmm.}
“If you count the Dual Divine Demon as a second life, that only adds up to living twice. So what did he mean by ‘live thrice’?”
{....} The Scholar of Black was speechless. This was a phrase even his Lord had not fully understood, so how could he answer?
{The Matriarch of the Heavenly Divine Demon Sect may know. Why don’t you ask her?}
“The Matriarch? I’ve never even seen her once. How could I talk to her?” Feng Zhiming sighed, feeling the weight of the mystery.
“Forget it. It’s something to think about in the future, I suppose.”
He tapped his fingers on his bed, his mind still turning over the riddle. “Still… He had the Throne at his fingertips. Why would he lay down and die? It doesn’t make sense.”
{An enigma if there ever was one,} the Scholar of Black agreed.
…
Madam Hua’s brows furrowed with concern as she read Feng Zhiming's message.
“I underestimated this man,” she muttered, her voice laced with unease as she mulled over the contents of his request.
Ellia and Lyra sat beside her, their expressions tense as they watched her read.
“What does it say?” Lyra asked, her voice edged with worry.
“He’s asking for several methods to heal those who have had their cultivation paths severed. It seems he’s planning to recruit allies,” Madam Hua explained, her tone heavy with realization.
Ellia’s eyes narrowed. “He’s a disciple of the Heavenly Divine Demon Sect, yet he’s amassing a force of his own. This borders on treason, does it not?”
Madam Hua crushed the messenger crow in her hand, the enchanted paper dissolving into nothingness under her grasp. “It’s clear he cares little for his sect. His focus is on the upcoming war,” Lyra added, her voice tinged with suspicion.
Madam Hua absentmindedly curled a lock of hair around her finger, deep in thought. “We have no choice but to comply with his requests. The higher-ups would have my head if I didn’t,” she said grimly, her expression growing darker.
“He already has one Dao Lord at his side, and now he seeks to gather more. His ambitions far exceed his current strength,” Ellia remarked with a tone of resignation. “We should have dealt with him when we had the chance.”
Lyra remained silent, her hands clenched in frustration, her knuckles white. “Our Elysium Guild has always remained neutral, avoiding entanglements with the major forces on this continent,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Madam Hua stood up, her resolve hardening. “We’ll have to watch the flow of events and act accordingly. I hope you both understand.”
Ellia and Lyra exchanged glances before nodding in agreement, fully aware of the precarious position they were in.
As Madam Hua left the room, a sense of unease gnawed at her. Feng Zhiming, just what is it that you truly want? she wondered, heading toward the items he had requested, her mind racing with possibilities.
…
The Second Elder received Feng Zhiming’s message and nodded thoughtfully as he read its contents.
“Orthodox bastards, always courting their own destruction,” he murmured under his breath, before summoning the First Elder.
When the First Elder arrived, the Second Elder wasted no time in briefing him on the message.
“Dao Lord Vitalis... Is he losing his wits in his old age?” the First Elder sighed, rubbing his temples. The thought of war was supposed to be a last resort, yet this old man seemed eager to rush into it.
“He seeks to bring the wrath of the Maiden down upon the entire continent. What does the Matriarch have to say about this?”
“She’s been in seclusion alongside the five Primal Demons for the past year. I have no knowledge of her plans,” the First Elder replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
The Second Elder’s expression darkened as he continued, “And then there’s the matter of Southaven Spire. The Dao Lord who governs that city has recently gone into seclusion as well. Something’s not right. His abode reeks of flesh, and the entire Evermore family was wiped out recently and in a completely overpowering manner, something only a Dao Lord could accomplish. That means there’s at least one Dao Lord unaccounted for.”
The First Elder’s eyes narrowed as he considered the implications. “We’ll need to meet with the Dual Divine Demon and Absolute Asura Sects to discuss our next steps. As for Southaven Spire, we’ll have to investigate it later,” he said, his voice resolute. Without further delay, he turned and departed in haste.
The Second Elder watched the First Elder depart, his gaze lingering for a moment before he settled back into his seat. His thoughts drifted to the last part of Feng Zhiming’s message, sending a scouting party into the Light Side of the Etheria Continent.
“Lunar Vigil,” he called out, his voice firm and commanding.
In an instant, a masked figure appeared before him, kneeling on one knee. “Yes, Elder?” the man replied, his voice low and respectful.
“Gather a small force,” the Second Elder instructed, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and intent. “I want to know exactly what the clans subordinated to the three righteous sects think about this decision.”
“It shall be done,” Lunar Vigil responded without hesitation, his form disappearing as swiftly as he had arrived.
The Second Elder sat back, his mind already turning to the potential outcomes of this new initiative. Information was power, and in these uncertain times, understanding the thoughts and intentions of their adversaries could make all the difference.
As the Second Elder sat in contemplation, the room around him fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the decisions and events yet to unfold pressing down like an unseen force. The flickering light of a single lantern cast long shadows on the walls, mirroring the darkness that loomed over the continent.
He knew that the coming days would be crucial. The information Lunar Vigil would bring back could either confirm their suspicions or reveal new, unforeseen dangers. The three righteous sects were powerful, their influence stretching far across the lands, but the Second Elder had learned long ago that power often bred overconfidence, a flaw that could be exploited.
The Light Side, with its clans and sects, had always been a place of tension, a land of order imposed by the righteous sects. Yet, there were always those who chafed under such strict control, and it was these discontented factions that he sought to uncover.
The Second Elder’s gaze shifted to the southern regions of the map, where Southaven Spire was marked. The recent developments there troubled him deeply. A Dao Lord going into seclusion was not unheard of, but the manner in which it had happened, along with the eerie reports of a flesh-reeking abode and the annihilation of the Evermore family, suggested something far more sinister at play.