Feng Zhiming knew that in order to break Louba Tian, he had to first unbalance him mentally, creating cracks in his psyche that could be exploited. The more unstable Louba Tian became, the easier it would be to plant deeper and more insidious suggestions in his mind.
When he had first been captured and knelt before Louba Tian, Feng Zhiming could only implant small, subtle suggestions—amplifying Louba Tian’s greed just enough to secure his position as a hostage rather than being killed outright. But as the night progressed, he gradually undermined Louba Tian’s confidence, planting doubts about his own leadership and the loyalty of those around him. Feng Zhiming’s subtle manipulation played on Louba Tian’s insecurities, feeding into his paranoia.
When Louba Tian stormed off to his tent in a fit of anger, Feng Zhiming seized the opportunity to reach out to the imprisoned women, not in person but through the use of his spiritual sense. He discovered that many of them had already lost the will to fight, their spirits broken by the bandits. These women became his first targets, their weakened minds making them more susceptible to his influence.
Among the women was Anissa, who would later kneel before him after Louba Tian’s execution. Anissa had been captured while injured, explaining how an Ethereal Core cultivator had fallen into the hands of bandits in the first place. She was isolated from the other women, imprisoned with special restraints because she was meant to be sold to a dual cultivation sect—her fate, unlike the others, had been delayed.
Using his Demonic Phenomena, the Omen of Death, Feng Zhiming appeared to the women as the Forgotten One, a god of his own creation. He promised them that when the bandits brought them into the tents, they would be able to kill their captors without resistance. The idea that they could strike back against their oppressors, combined with the despair that had already taken root in their minds, made them fervent believers in this newfound god.
As the women executed the bandits in their sleep—a sleep induced by Feng Zhiming’s manipulation—they freed Anissa from her restraints. With her full cultivation power restored, Anissa easily dispatched Eli and tossed his head to Feng Zhiming as a token of her loyalty.
Of course, Feng Zhiming wasn’t truly a Dao Lord, nor did he possess the ability to make a severed head speak or a headless corpse attack Louba Tian. But by the time Louba Tian saw those things, he was so mentally shattered that Feng Zhiming’s suggestions became his reality. The headless man who terrified Louba Tian was actually Anissa, but in Louba Tian’s eyes, the truth had been completely distorted.
Feng Zhiming set the encampment ablaze, watching as the flames consumed everything. There was a certain poetry in it—an end fitting for bandits who had likely done the same to many innocent lives. As the fire roared, Feng Zhiming stood for a moment, admiring the beauty of the flames.
“Writhing, growing, and consuming as if it were alive,” he murmured to himself, lost in thought.
After he had his fill, he turned to the group of women who now stood before him, their eyes shining with a mix of gratitude and religious fervor. They truly believed that they had been saved by the Forgotten One, and that belief was cemented by the events of the night.
“The Forgotten One has shown us all mercy,” Feng Zhiming began, his voice commanding yet gentle. “I shall return to the Heavenly Divine Demon Sect to report back and spread his message. Junior sister, will you remain with the Circle of the Forgotten One, or will you return?”
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“I, Hera, shall remain within this Circle and vow to expand it, letting everyone bask in the lord’s glory. I beseech the Forgotten Vessel to take Anissa with you. The lord has instructed that your safety is paramount,” Hera replied, her voice filled with reverence.
Feng Zhiming had hoped for this outcome but couldn’t directly suggest it. He had carefully planted the idea that he was a high priest within this newly-formed religion, now known as the Forgotten Vessel.
“I shall comply with the will of the lord always. Let us all make an oath to the Great Dao to commemorate our loyalty,” Feng Zhiming said, cupping his hands and bowing slightly.
“Upon my Dao heart, I swear to abide by the Forgotten One’s wishes. If I ever break this oath, may I be struck by lightning,” the women chanted in unison, their voices resolute.
Anissa stepped forward, cleaning her stained blade. She was close in age to Feng Zhiming, with the makings of a mature woman. In the world of cultivation, age was often deceptive, as cultivators could maintain their youth or even enhance their appearance through cultivation. Anissa, who had undergone Spiritual Awakening, embodied the beauty that came with such a transformation.
In the narrative Feng Zhiming had woven about the Forgotten One, he had stated that only when enough people basked in the god’s light would he truly return to the world. This would motivate the Circle to expand as quickly as possible, driven by the belief that they were hastening the return of their divine savior.
“Take all the spoils of the bandits and this core with you. All is for the Circle,” Feng Zhiming instructed, tossing the ring and the core that Eli had coveted to the women.
The ring contained a considerable sum of spirit stones and gold, and the core, though impressive at first glance, was merely a fourth-order beast core that had been seventy percent depleted. Feng Zhiming’s Demonic Suppression Art, combined with the power of suggestion, had made it appear far more valuable than it was.
Hera knelt on one knee, her expression solemn. “I shall do my utmost to ensure that the teachings of the Forgotten One spread throughout the land. Please report back to the sect that I was killed in the battle.”
“The one who was forgotten and the one who was lost will be found in the vestiges of eternity,” Feng Zhiming intoned one last time before departing with Anissa.
…
As they flew back to the Heavenly Divine Demon Sect, Feng Zhiming took a closer look at the scroll they had retrieved. The artifact appeared ancient, its golden material radiating a faint aura of power.
“What do you think, Anissa?” Feng Zhiming asked, turning to his companion.
“My lord, judging by the age of the material, it seems to be at least a thousand years old,” Anissa replied, her eyes examining the scroll with a critical gaze.
The scroll was indeed ancient, its durability rivaling that of a Foundation Establishment cultivator. However, despite its impressive exterior, the scroll itself was empty—completely devoid of any writing or inscriptions.
“That would be far too boring,” Feng Zhiming said with a smirk. “Let’s make this more interesting.”
He made a few modifications to the scroll. Turning to Anissa, he considered his next move. Although he didn’t fully trust her, it didn’t matter. She had sworn an oath to the Great Dao, and any betrayal would mean her death.
“Do you know why Louba Tian fell apart so quickly despite being so powerful?” Feng Zhiming asked, slipping the scroll back into his storage ring.
“Receiving your wisdom would be my pleasure, my lord,” Anissa replied, her tone deferential.
Feng Zhiming’s eyes narrowed as he reflected on Louba Tian’s downfall. “Cultivators have one fatal flaw,” he began. “No matter what they cultivate, they all pursue longevity. Yet they often forget that and die on a hill of their own making.”
He clenched his fist, his mind replaying the scenes of Louba Tian’s final moments. “Louba Tian knew that the artifact would attract the attention of factions far more powerful than him, yet he still let the information leak and kept the artifact. He was more greedy for wealth than he was for life, and that greed cost him everything.”