Chapter Ninety-One: Demon General—Beiling

The art of talisman-making was a realm entirely foreign to Nan Luo. Perhaps his cultivation was not yet sufficient, preventing him from constructing a single talisman pattern from his comprehension and forming something truly unique. Yet, ever since stepping into the divine realm, he gradually began to grasp some of its underlying principles.

Bei Ling, too, received the Celestial Emperor’s talisman, though she merely regarded it with indifference.

When Nan Luo was enveloped in starlight, he sensed a connection to the distant heavens, as if the stars above responded to him in some mysterious way. A single thought summoned the power of the stars, gathering around him, ebbing and flowing at his will, their light hazy and ethereal.

Heaven and earth are boundless, but in the hearts of cultivators, Buzhou Mountain is the very center of creation, upon which the celestial court was built.

In the first year of the Celestial Emperor’s reign, he summoned all beings to the court for worship, but few answered the call.

In the second year, Bai Ze entered the court and was named the Demon God.

In the third year, the court formed its first army, known simply as the Heavenly Soldiers.

Within a thousand miles of Buzhou Mountain, the surrounding area belonged to its domain. The cultivators dwelling in the nearby hills felt the mounting pressure, sensing the brewing storm. Most had already fled or joined the celestial court, becoming soldiers in its ranks.

This campaign began at the foot of Buzhou Mountain, expanding outward in an overwhelming tide.

Nan Luo never expected the celestial court’s first outward campaign would be a war against the Hou Tu tribe of the Wu clan, with himself as the leader of the expedition.

Bei Ling was delighted, declaring that the celestial court was indeed the right place to be. She could now lead so many to battle against the Wu clan, and gleefully promised Nan Luo that he could simply watch from the rear as she wiped out their enemies.

She spoke with an air of triumph, paying no mind to the murderous glares behind her.

Siming was among them. That day in the mountains, he ultimately refrained from intervening. Though he, too, dwelled in the divine realm, seeing the sword in Nan Luo’s hand had inexplicably chilled his heart, and after much contemplation, he could not muster the resolve to act.

This time, he brought the elite of the Wolf clan from his tribe, expecting, like the others, to lead his own people in the campaign. He never imagined the forces would be combined and led by Nan Luo against the greatest power in the world—the Wu clan.

The Wu clan, scattered across the world, had never been seen with two or more ancestral Wu residing together. Some even witnessed battles among the ancestors. Yet, they remained the undisputed greatest power in the hearts of all.

The celestial court now boasted a peerless figure—Taiyi. Anyone of sufficient cultivation knew he had already stepped onto the Path of Sages, making him the foremost person under heaven. Thus far, no one had demonstrated power beyond that of Eastern Emperor Taiyi.

There was also the enigmatic Di Jun. If Taiyi was like Buzhou Mountain, towering and awe-inspiring, Di Jun was as unfathomable as the starry sky—profound and mysterious. To date, the only widely known fact was the ruin of the Immortal Palace of Phoenix Mountain: the phoenix, already half a step into the Path of Sages, fell to Di Jun’s machinations.

Then there was the Dragon King, revered throughout the world, who constructed the Dragon Gate to give all living beings a chance at transcendence. He, too, perished in that great battle.

The Qilin Cliff remained mysterious; its denizens could sometimes be glimpsed, but after the battle, observers saw endless blood flowing across its heights.

All this stemmed from that sudden war—the destruction of three clans and the rise of the celestial court.

Inevitably, all thoughts turned to Di Jun.

Nan Luo had little direct contact with the Wu clan: one encounter with Zhu Rong, to whom he owed his life but had not exchanged a single word; Xuan Ming, whose memory for Nan Luo was of endless snowfall, a cold and peerless beauty, and eyes disdainful of all things; Hou Tu, whose gentle and loving gaze left him uneasy; Xing Tian, whom he had met three times, each time with the latter seeking to sever his own head; Hou Yi, clad in white robes stained with killing intent.

Nan Luo closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and called out softly, “Let’s go!” His voice was quiet, but the tense atmosphere between Bei Ling and the others dissipated immediately.

Some wished to speak, but at a glance from Nan Luo, they thought better of it.

Siming narrowed his eyes, recalling the mountains, the soul-shaking murderous intent, the cold, emotionless gaze. When Nan Luo turned away, Siming quickly lowered his head and strode forward, hiding his own murderous intent deep within, afraid Nan Luo might sense it.

Others avoided Nan Luo’s gaze, but Bei Ling walked over with a strange expression, scrutinizing him from head to toe.

Nan Luo ignored her, letting her observe him. Sure enough, before long, Bei Ling took her waist-length black hair in hand, stroking it as she asked in confusion, “How is it that you’ve changed so much in an instant? You’re even more unpredictable than I am.”

Nan Luo thought to himself, So you know you’re capricious. He smiled lightly, “How have I changed?”

“I can't say exactly, but you seem different, more murderous. I like it.” Bei Ling, who in Nan Luo’s memory always had a hint of mischievousness in her eyes, suddenly became alluring.

He laughed softly, “Is that so? I just suddenly understood a few things.” Nan Luo replied with a gentle smile, paying no heed to Bei Ling’s changing expression. Even if he noticed, it would not surprise him, for she was always mercurial—quiet one moment, bloodthirsty the next, ever unpredictable.

“Tell me, what did you understand?” Bei Ling was like a curious girl probing a secret, her eyes alight with excitement.

Nan Luo gazed at the celestial court’s first army rising into the air, his tone somewhat dreamlike, “Nothing much. I just realized there’s no causeless love, nor causeless hatred in this world. If others show you kindness, you must remember it deeply. But if they seek your life, then only a life can repay it…”

Bei Ling, twirling a lock of black hair beneath her sharp, snow-white chin, tilted her head in thought and replied with dissatisfaction, “So if someone trades lives with you, you’d agree? Tomorrow I’ll catch an ant to trade with you—your life will be mine.” She seemed very pleased with her idea, tossing her hair with delight.

Nan Luo chuckled, “It’s not that simple. My life is a gift from my parents, cherished by my loved ones, priceless. I won’t trade it for anyone.” His smile was gentle, but his final words were resolute, like a figure standing steadfast on a cliff, unmoved by wind and rain. After he spoke, a strange inner voice echoed, “Not for anyone…”

Bei Ling’s brows arched, and she laughed, “I like that. Not for anyone—not even Di Jun.”

She spoke Di Jun’s name openly, utterly unconcerned, drawing astonished looks from those nearby. She raised her snowy neck in defiance, her murderous gaze sweeping back, her waist-length black hair flying wildly in the wind.

Regarding the Hou Tu tribe, Nan Luo had no desire for war. There were human beings among them, and Hou Tu herself and Kuafu always treated Nan Luo with respect.

Yet he could not abstain; even if he did not go, the celestial court would surely attack. The Hou Tu tribe lay at the foot of Buzhou Mountain—if left unchallenged, where would the court’s reputation stand?

He sometimes wondered what would happen if he simply left. Would Di Jun drag him back? Nan Luo could not say. And Taiyi? If Nan Luo departed, would Taiyi destroy him with the Chaos Bell, now renamed Eastern Emperor Bell? Or perhaps wipe out the human race as well? Of this, Nan Luo was certain.

Staying in the court, he was insignificant; leaving would surely provoke its wrath.

The Hou Tu tribe remained peaceful as ever, living up to its name and reputation. The two characters for Hou Tu were still clear on the great green stone at the entrance, but Nan Luo no longer felt the need to look up in awe.

From afar, he could see Kuafu standing in the air above the tribe, his stature imposing. The celestial army, thousands strong and brimming with murderous intent, had clearly alerted him.

Nan Luo and his companions never expected to surprise a tribe guarded by ancestral Wu with a sneak attack.

The star talisman’s main purpose was to ward off an attack, borrow the power of the stars, and form a stellar formation.

“Have you all come for my Hou Tu tribe of the Wu clan?”

Kuafu stood alone in the void, holding a black wooden staff like a coiling dragon. His black robes fitted his towering frame, lending him a calm and steady presence. Yet, faced with so many hostile visitors, he showed not a trace of fear.

His gaze swept over everyone, seeming not to notice Nan Luo at the forefront.

Before Nan Luo could answer, Bei Ling stepped forward into the void and spoke coldly, “The Wu clan disregards the celestial court. By order of the Celestial Emperor, we come to subjugate you. This is your last chance: pledge allegiance or face annihilation.”

She wore blood-red robes that seemed to drip with blood, her waist-length hair billowing as she spoke. Her words, her exquisite features, and her murderous aura made her appear almost demonic.

Kuafu’s expression did not change, his voice as calm and gentle as ever: “Who are you?”

Bei Ling laughed, raising her head arrogantly and declared, “Listen well—I am the Grand Marshal of this campaign, the First Demon General under the First Star Lord of the celestial court: Bei Ling…”

A flash of light shone in Kuafu’s eyes. Bei Ling was suddenly enveloped by a radiance, her face growing even colder. Clearly, she was furious at being scrutinized so closely.

Nan Luo had no wish to face Kuafu; it was a relief that Bei Ling took over, though her ostentation inevitably brought him back into the confrontation.

Kuafu neither discerned Bei Ling’s true form nor cared. He had ancestral Wu behind him—twelve in all. Anyone wishing to challenge that would have to weigh their own strength.

“Such is the unpredictability of the world. Who would have thought this day would come? Leave the celestial court, and my Wu clan will still protect the human race.” Kuafu’s steady voice carried great weight.

The scene fell silent. Everyone looked to Nan Luo; even Bei Ling paused.

They had come to subjugate, but suddenly they were being asked to defect. Faces took on an amused, spectator’s expression.

Nan Luo lowered his head, silent as blue stone.

No one knew his thoughts. After a while, he sighed and said, “I cannot represent the human race, and you cannot represent the Wu clan. Forgive me.”

He had barely finished when Bei Ling loudly declared, “The Hou Tu tribe disregards the celestial court, stubborn and unyielding. Take them down!” Her hair flew, her blood-red garments billowed, her murderous aura surged.

Everyone was surprised, not expecting such a turn. Hearing Bei Ling’s command, they remained motionless, all glancing at Nan Luo. Despite their reluctance, having joined the celestial court, they were bound to obey the Celestial Emperor’s orders.

Nan Luo remained silent. Bei Ling, full of murderous intent, turned back and said coldly, “What, do you all plan to defy the Celestial Emperor’s command? He said that those who disobey will be killed. Now the Wu clan treats the court as nothing—if you’re just here to watch, we might as well return and see whether you or we are held accountable.”

Her words placed them in a difficult position. Nan Luo was only nominally the commander; everyone knew the real authority lay with themselves. Whoever was made commander would face the same situation as Nan Luo, except he had only Bei Ling behind him.

Perhaps this was Di Jun’s deliberate arrangement. Only now did everyone realize why Di Jun had appointed Nan Luo. If anyone else commanded, their subordinates would act at their order, and those who refused would suffer heavy losses. Nan Luo, with only Bei Ling behind him, was the perfect choice.

The others exchanged glances and nodded. Bei Ling, once again, pointed at Kuafu standing in the void and said coldly, “Kill him.”

“Who dares—who dares touch the Wu clan?” Kuafu’s brows furrowed, and his staff struck the void. Instantly, wind and clouds surged, murderous energy gathered beneath his feet as black clouds.

“I…” Bei Ling’s cold voice answered him, accompanied by a blood-red shadow.

At Bei Ling’s movement, the army behind her surged forward like a tide.

Demonic energy, spells, and treasures flashed in the void.

Few had ever seen Kuafu fight in the ancient wilderness, but many had witnessed Xing Tian’s battles. Kuafu, however, was recognized as the first among the Wu clan after the ancestors, mainly because he was the first to ascend to the rank of Great Wu. His strength was judged by other Great Wu’s attitudes toward him, and he was believed to be among the top three.

Kuafu struck his staff in the void, summoning wind and clouds. With a loud shout, his form transformed into a giant towering to the heavens, reaching for Bei Ling, whose blood-red shadow wound through the void.

The void froze, and for a moment Bei Ling was still, but as Kuafu’s giant hand was about to grasp her, she trembled and vanished.

Kuafu’s hand did not pause, grabbing toward the Heavenly Soldiers. His immense black hand descended, seizing two people tightly.

They struggled fiercely, but it was like ants shaking a tree—there was no escape.

Countless spells exploded on Kuafu’s body like fireworks, but did not harm him in the slightest.

Before anyone could rescue them, Kuafu opened his mouth and swallowed the two whole, devouring them in just a few bites.

Ferocious and brutal, Kuafu—once reliable and gentle—became something else entirely, leaving Nan Luo feeling as if he were dreaming.

Nan Luo knew this was the manifestation of the laws of heaven and earth, and that Kuafu’s devouring was a technique to consume the world itself. Witnessing Kuafu’s manifestation, Nan Luo understood just how far his own abilities lagged behind.

This was the true law of manifestation: that enormous body was untouched by spells and treasures, as if buffeted only by a gentle breeze, entirely unharmed.

Since hearing about the realms of Immortal, Divine, and Dao from Di Jun, Nan Luo had wondered why Hou Yi and Xing Tian—also in the divine realm—were so much more formidable than others. He realized that even within the same realm, power varied enormously.

Nan Luo was certain Kuafu had not yet entered the Dao realm, likely at the pinnacle of the divine realm, yet he left everyone feeling powerless.

The Wu clan’s divine arts truly were formidable.

Kuafu’s black staff, growing with his body, swept across the field. Those once agile and elusive stood rooted beneath it, unable to dodge, as if stripped of all resistance.

A green glow rose from their bodies, holding the staff aloft. Kuafu was surprised, then struck again. This time, many were obliterated beneath the staff, reduced to dust.

Thousands faced Kuafu alone, powerless to resist. Was this what it meant to have perfected a powerful divine art? Nan Luo could not help but wonder.