Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon
The waves of the East Sea finally tamed their last raging torrent, retreating back into the blue expanse with fine foam. As the crests of the waves licked the beach, the sand they stirred up still carried a few strands of lingering golden light. This golden light fell on the seashells, causing the closed shells to slowly open, revealing the iridescent reflections of the pearls inside.
The last wisp of Black Tide was filtered into transparent water vapor by the Spirit Vein Grand Network, rising and transforming into a seven-colored rainbow. The arc of the rainbow perfectly covered the rooftops of the fishing village, dyeing the fishing nets drying on the bamboo poles into a colorful brocade. Water droplets hanging between the meshes reflected off the bamboo house windows, and the seaweed drying on the windowsills was oozing salty juice, dripping onto the bluestone slabs and leaving dark spots. The edges of the spots even shimmered with a faint golden light, echoing the aura of the Spirit Vein.
The instant the light particles merged into the vast net, a subtle hum resounded throughout the Tianyan Continent —on the light screen of the Southern Region's Spirit Vein Tree, cyan-gold runes flowed like water over every new leaf, dewdrops falling from the leaf tips into the swamp, causing ancient Ancient Lotus that had slumbered for millennia to bloom simultaneously. Layer upon layer of petals cradled golden lotus pods, and within the lotus seeds, the figure of a woman in a bamboo house turning herbs was reflected; even the wooden hairpin with a Mortar Pestle and pestle tucked in her hair was clearly visible, the carved patterns on the hairpin still carrying the fragrance of herbs dried last year; the Ancient Dragon of the Far North Ice Plains slowly closed its eyes, its Ice Crystals armor transforming into a sky full of frost flowers, falling on the frozen earth to spur forth tiny green shoots, their tips topped with fine ice shards, yet exuding a stubborn, tender yellow, even the year-round Even the unmelting ice caps cracked, seeping out warm, clear springs. Transparent fish swam in the water, their bones bearing the teeth marks of High Antiquity Ice Silkworm, the spacing of which perfectly matched the patterns of the icefield's rock strata. In the cracks of the Floating Island, Clover unfurled its four leaves, the golden light at the tips intertwining with the reflection of the clear spring, mirroring the smoke rising from a fishing village under a clear blue sky. Even the patterns of the smoke were so clear that one could count the fractions of a second, as if one could follow those patterns to the stove, smell the aroma of fish roasting over firewood, mixed with the scent of freshly steamed corn buns. That aroma, flowing along the Spirit Vein, drifted to the icefield thousands of miles away, softening even the Ancient Dragon's breath.
Ren Xiaoyao gazed at the receding tide marks of the East Sea. The gullies carved by the Black Tide tide still remained on the sand, but now they were being filled in by the golden light of the Spirit Vein, and fine green grass was growing. The downy hairs on the grass leaves were covered with morning dew, reflecting the blue-gold light on the hem of his clothes. Wherever the light passed, even the air rippled, and in the ripples, the phantoms of countless living beings could be seen nodding.
As the Heaven and Earth Dharma Body slowly receded, it brought with it azure-gold fireflies. The fireflies landed on the sea surface, causing the leaping silver fish to grow translucent wings. The wing membranes were covered with fine patterns, exactly like the runes on the Spirit Vein Grand Network. They swept past his fingertips in groups, and the tips of their wings brushed against his skin with a cool, itchy sensation. The touch contained the whispers of the ocean currents, telling of the peace after the Black Tide receded.
The Life and Death Vortex in his palm transformed into pale blue patterns of light, disappearing beneath his skin like veins, leaving a slightly cool sensation. This was the lingering warmth from the resonance with his Spirit Vein. The warm current flowed through his blood, and when it passed his heart, it caused the frequency of his heartbeat to coincide with the humming of his Spirit Vein. Each beat carried a power that soothed the heavens and earth.
The fishermen awoke from their hallucinations. The old fisherman's hand, gripping the oar, froze in mid-air. Sunlight filtered through his fingers, illuminating a group of silver fish leaping from the water. The light reflected off their scales made him squint—the blackened hand of his son in the hallucination now matched the warmth of his fingers as a child holding his. His rough fingertips unconsciously rubbed the oar handle, where the Safety Knot knot he had tied when sending his son off to sea still remained. The fine sand embedded in the knot was from years ago when he and his son had built sandcastles on the beach. The sand made his fingertips slightly warm, like holding a warm stone that had been baking in the sun all day, still bearing the warmth of his son's palm.
Just then, the light patterns on the Spirit Vein Grand Network suddenly rippled.
The ripples did not originate from Ren Xiaoyao's power, but rather from the point of convergence of light particles deep within the East Sea. Like a pebble thrown into still water, they spread out in concentric circles of cyan-gold ripples. Wherever the ripples passed, the white birds on the sea surface suddenly stopped in mid-air, their wings remaining in a flapping posture, as if a pause mechanism had been pressed. Even the small fish held in their beaks froze in the instant of opening and closing.
Where the demonic energy and Spirit Vein light particles should have dissipated, a wisp of Gray Mist suddenly rose. The mist was so faint as to be almost invisible, yet it carried a bone-chilling cold, causing the surrounding air to condense into tiny ice particles. These ice particles landed on the ship's deck and eroded holes the size of pinheads. Faint black energy seeped from these holes, emitting a faint "sizzling" sound when it came into contact with the golden light of the Spirit Vein.
The Gray Mist landed silently, but exploded the moment it touched the seawater—the waves within a hundred feet instantly froze into Ink Black Ice Crystals. The fish and shrimp encased in the Ice Crystals maintained their swimming posture, but their eyes transformed into pitch-black vortexes. Within the vortexes flowed the last trace of resentment of the Primordial Demon Lord before his dissipation. Upon closer inspection, one could discern that it was the unwillingness of being purified by the Spirit Vein runes. Even the charred smell of the runes burning flesh emanated from the ice patterns, mixing with the salty smell of the seawater to create a nauseating odor.
Even more bizarrely, the sunlight refracted by the Ice Crystals fell on the deck and condensed into countless tiny Demonic Script. These runes twisted like snakes, crawling along the wood grain and into the cracks of the fishing boat. This made the old fisherman's heart, which had just calmed down, skip a beat again. Suddenly, he heard the wailing of his son in his hallucination, overlapping with the crying sound of his baby in his memory. Startled, he gripped the oar tightly. Tiny wood chips seeped from the crack in the oar handle, piercing his palm without him noticing. The drops of blood from his palm fell onto the deck and were instantly swallowed by the Demonic Script, turning into an even thicker black mist.
"Tsk, just finished dealing with one, and another one comes along to pick up the scraps?" Ren Xiaoyao raised an eyebrow slightly, the life and death light patterns on his fingertips trembled gently, emanating a defensive halo. Within the halo, tiny runes appeared, which were the Origin Imprint of the Spirit Vein. As the marks flowed, they quietly purified the surrounding air that had been polluted by the Demonic Script.
As he turned to look at the Gray Mist, the Clover on the Floating Island suddenly turned in unison, the golden light at the tips of the leaves weaving a semi-transparent magic circle beneath his feet. Within the magic circle, the outline of the Gray Mist emerged—the figure was not enveloped by ordinary demonic energy, but by the undifferentiated Void at the Beginning of Chaos, capable of swallowing even light. When the golden light at the edge of the magic circle touched the Gray Mist, it vanished silently, like water droplets merging into a mud pit, leaving not even a ripple.
A figure slowly emerged from the Gray Mist.
He wore a gray robe, the fabric so rough it seemed woven from Black Stone fibers from the abyss, its texture surely prickly to the touch. Embroidered at the hem was a half-circle of broken Star Orbit, with a jagged gap at the position of the Seventh Star of the Big Dipper, as if a piece had been bitten off. The threads at the gap gleamed with a cold metallic light, and upon closer inspection, they were found to be spun from meteorite fragments, with stardust fragments wrapped within them.
Faint black mist seeped from the Breaking Point of the Star Orbit, carving out tiny Black Hole upon landing. Inside the Black Hole, one could see shattered Star Remains and half-eaten Star Fragments. The tooth marks on the edges of the fragments were exactly the same as the teeth marks of the legendary Primordial Chaos beast. Pale purple star blood flowed in the grooves of the tooth marks, turning into Void upon landing.
His face was covered by a hood, only his jawline was taut and hard, and his skin was a pale, jade-like color, as if he had never seen the sun. Even the veins in his skin had a faint gray tint, and the gray color seemed to move under his skin as if countless tiny insects were crawling.
Three jet-black copper coins were held between his fingers. The edges of the coins were worn smooth, and Twisted Runes were engraved on both sides. When they were turned, they made a soft "click" sound. Each sound made the surrounding air tremble, as if it were plucking some invisible Principle. Suddenly, the fishing nets drying in the fishing village moved on their own without any wind. The mesh of the nets widened and narrowed with the "click" sound, and they locked the shadows of seagulls flying by. The shadows fluttered in the nets, and even the seagulls in the sky tilted their wings and almost fell into the sea. The feathers that fell when their wings flapped turned into tiny black butterflies in the air, and the frightened faces of the fishing village children were imprinted on the butterfly wings.
"The lingering echo of the Primordial Demon Lord, quite a good stepping stone." The voice was neither male nor female, like countless whispers at once, yet also like a single person murmuring in an empty cave. Each word resonated, creating tiny black circles on the sea's surface. Within these circles, countless pained faces surfaced, only to be swallowed by the sea in an instant. "My name Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon, I came from the Chaos Rift, just in time for this good show."
As he raised his hand, his sleeve slipped down, revealing half of his arm. Silver-gray patterns crawled across his arm, which upon closer inspection turned out to be countless miniature vortexes. Each vortex contained a miniature starry sky, where stars were being born and annihilated at a visible speed. The burst of light at birth and the shrinking darkness at annihilation solidified into an eternal cycle within the vortex, the rhythm of which was perfectly synchronized with the "click" sound of the copper coin spinning at his fingertips.
Before he could finish speaking, black flames suddenly erupted around him.
Those flames were not ordinary demonic energy, but rather the original malevolent energy stripped from the dissipated particles of light of the Primordial Demon Lord. They carried the burning pain of purification and were now drawn by the copper coin in his palm, swimming like fish into his sleeves, leaving winding black marks. Wherever the marks passed, the fibers of the fabric silently melted away, and the melting fragments transformed into smaller flames in the air, like countless dancing will-o'-the-wisps.
The moment the light surged in, the sky darkened abruptly, the clouds churning as if stained with ink, and countless stars shattered with a sharp, piercing sound. Seven purplish-black lightning bolts struck down from the depths of the clouds, each bolt over ten feet thick, its shaft enveloped in countless twisted demonic shadows—the vengeful spirits of fishermen devoured by Whale Demon, their throats still lodged in fragments of boat planks, the wood grain on the fragments clearly discernible, even revealing the number of tree rings; the remnants of Merfolk from the Abyss of Return Ruins, their fish tails torn off, turning into black mist, within which floated fragments of pearls, the light refracted by the fragments reflecting the Merfolk's despair before death; even the shadow of High Antiquity dragon severed by the Dragon-Locking Chain, its scales still bearing the marks of the chains, the rust of the chains embedded with fragments of cultivators' bones—all the most ferocious beings of the Calamity of the Heavenly Demons, descended specifically to Devouring Origin Demonic Baleful Energy energy.
The Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon neither dodged nor avoided.
He made a strange Method Formula with his left hand, his thumb and forefinger interlocked, the other three fingers pointing diagonally to the sky. His gray robe suddenly billowed up like a sail filled with wind, and from within the robe came the roars of countless Demonic Thought Demonic Thought. Those roars condensed into a giant black hand, with sharp bone spikes protruding from its knuckles. Fragments of broken souls hung on the bone spikes, and in the fragments, one could see blurry human faces, the last expressions of beings devoured by demonic thoughts. He forcefully gripped the seven lightning pillars in his palm, and the moment the lightning pillars touched the giant hand, they emitted a groan like twisted metal.
"This little commotion, dares to call it a calamity?" He chuckled, his laughter laced with the crackling sound of thunder, causing the ice on the sea surface to split open. The seawater seeping through the cracks froze upon contact with the air. Simultaneously, the three copper coins in his right hand shattered, transforming into three Demonic Runes that stretched across the heavens and earth. These Demonic Runes writhed like living beings, forcibly dismantling the purplish-black lightning as it swept past the lightning pillars, becoming nourishment for his Devil Cultivation Method arts. They followed the runes into his sleeves, and wherever they passed, the Star Orbit trails on the fabric glowed with a dim light, revealing the trajectories of countless falling stars. The vengeful spirits within the lightning pillars were crushed into golden powder by the Demonic Runes, falling softly onto his shoulders like a strange rain. The moment the powder touched his clothes, it transformed into tiny demonic shadows, seeping into the gaps in the fabric, leaving black spots on his gray robe, like ink splattered on rice paper, the edges of which gleamed with a faint silver light.
Ren Xiaoyao's pupils contracted slightly.
The path of this Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon is completely different from that of the Primordial Demon Lord — the Primordial Demon Lord's demonic energy carries resentment and obsession, burning everything like a raging fire, yet it is ultimately traceable, its source can be found by the Power of Life and Death, just as a prairie fire always has its initial Mars, that Mars being his resentment towards the injustice of heaven and earth; but the power of this figure before him is like an all-pervasive Primordial Chaos, both Devouring Laws and distorting the Principle. Just now, when the copper coin spun, even the birth and death patterns on his fingertips were almost disordered, as if even the boundary between "birth" and "death" was blurred, causing "existence" and "Void" to overlap, and even his perception of his own aura was momentarily dazed.
"Ren Xiaoyao," Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon raised his head, and two scarlet lights flashed in the shadows beneath his hood. The light was not like demonic fire, but rather like two bottomless ancient wells, filled with the remnants of countless stars, still stained with the ash of Primordial Chaos. Within the ash particles lay the deathly stillness before the birth of the universe. "You can purify Demonic Thought with the Power of Life and Death, but can you purify Primordial Chaos itself?"
He suddenly raised his hand, and a black wall of water thousands of feet high suddenly rose from the surface of the East Sea. The wall was so thick that the outline of the reefs on the opposite shore could be seen, yet it was distorted beyond recognition, as if looking through a broken and barely pieced-together mirror. The world in the mirror was both familiar and eerie, with countless distorted human figures hidden in the shadows of the reefs.
Embedded within the wall are countless distorted Space-time Fragments: there is the peach grove of the Primordial Demon Lord in his youth, now blooming with blood-red flowers, the petals falling and transforming into the severed Severed Fingers of cultivators, with fragments of scriptures still caught between the fingers, the words on the fragments soaked in blood, yet still recognizable as the two characters "compassion," the characters twisted and struggling as if trying to break free from the paper; there is the sail of a fisherman's son, burning with an inextinguishable demonic fire, with fragments of his daughter-in-law's unfinished fishing net floating in the flames, the mesh of which still holds a baby's swaddling clothes, the Safety Lock pattern embroidered on the swaddling clothes charred black, black tears seeping from the keyhole; there is even the phantom of Ren Xiaoyao meditating on the Floating Island, black tears flowing from the phantom's eyes, the teardrops falling into the cracks, causing the leaves of the Clover to wither one by one, the golden light at the tips of the leaves turning into black smoke, and the sound of the leaves curling could be heard in the smoke, a sound very much like the sigh of the dying.
"The very order of this world is the greatest shackle." The wall of water crashed down towards the Floating Island with a ferocious power capable of crushing all Principle. Black mist seeping from the cracks in the wall fell onto the sea, causing the water to flow backward. Schools of fish swam frantically, head down and tail up, their scales falling off against their instincts. The fallen scales transformed into tiny black butterflies in the air, their wings imprinted with distorted human faces—the final expressions of creatures swallowed by the Black Tide. "These creatures you protect are nothing but puppets trapped in the cage of order—the old fisherman's longing for his son is folly, the woman's medicine-making is obsession, and even that Clover cannot escape the predetermined fate of birth and death."
The Life and Death Vortex behind Ren Xiaoyao shone brightly once more. Within the azure-gold light, the Primordial Chaos gray-white ring became even clearer, like a wisp of undissolved mist enveloping the flames. It was the mark he left when he touched the origin of heaven and earth. Within the mist, one could see countless miniature scenes of Life-Death Cycle: flowers blooming and withering, tides rising and falling, people living and dying. Every moment exuded the solemnity of order. "Primordial Chaos begets order, and order can also transform Primordial Chaos."
As he gazed at the approaching wall of water, he suddenly recalled the look in the eyes of the Primordial Demon Lord before he vanished—that sense of relief perhaps held another answer to the question of order, an answer that was not destruction, but acceptance.
The boy under the peach tree once asked his master, "If Heaven and Earth are inhumane, why protect them?" The master replied, "Precisely because they are inhumane, we must cultivate benevolence within the framework of order."
The master's voice, warm with the aroma of tea, brushed past his ear, overlapping with the warmth emanating from the Spirit Vein Grand Network. Within that warmth lay the prayers of countless beings, like countless fine threads tightly connecting him to the world.
"Primordial Chaos begets order, and order can also transform Primordial Chaos." He took a step forward, his figure already standing before the wall of water. Ripples of cyan and gold spread across the sea beneath his feet, and from these ripples emerged the auras of countless living beings: the sweat of fishermen, the fragrance of herbs, the milky scent of children—each aura brimming with vibrant life. The light patterns on his palm connected with the Spirit Vein Grand Network, instantly tightening the net. In the light flowing through the mesh, silhouettes of countless beings appeared: the focused old fisherman carving Safety Knot, each Dao Marks left by the knife on the wood gleaming, the light concealing his prayers for his son; the gentle woman drying herbs, her fingertips brushing the leaves as lightly as caressing a baby's face, her movements filled with compassion for the sick; the children chasing seagulls, their laughter falling on the sea, stirring up tiny golden waves, the waves brimming with pure joy. "You say order is a shackle, but you don't know how many willing attachments are hidden within those shackles."
The moment the water wall collided with the light net, it burst forth with blinding light. Within the light, tiny Black Hole appeared, only to be instantly filled with golden light. As the Black Hole vanished, a crisp sound like a baby's first cry rang out—the sound of a new order being born.
Where the Black Tide and golden light intertwine, time and space begin to fold—the fisherman's son's sail suddenly breaks free from the demonic fire, transforming into a white bird that skims across the water, its wings still stained with the ashes of the extinguished flames. The ashes fall to the sea, transforming into tiny fish fry, which wag their tails and swim towards the deep sea with the vitality of new life; new buds sprout in the blood-red peach grove, pushing open the Severed Fingers to grow pale pink flowers, the petals still bearing the traces of scriptures, which gleam in the sunlight, and within the golden light emerge the phantom of a cultivator chanting scriptures; Ren Xiaoyao raises its head, the black tears in its eyes turning into clear spring water, nourishing the withered Clover, allowing the leaves to unfold again, radiating a verdant light, with a dewdrop still on the tip of the leaf, reflecting the clear sky of the Floating Island, beneath which children chase and play.
"If you want war, then let's fight." Ren Xiaoyao's voice came through the light net, carrying the unique composure of the Laws of Life and Death, as if it could freeze the churning spacetime. Wherever the sound waves reached, the distorted Space-time Fragments rippled with orderly waves, and runes intertwined with "life" and "death" emerged in the ripples. "Let me show you what kind of power is hidden in the Heaven and Earth Order."
The collision of light and darkness stirred up towering waves on the East Sea. The roar of the waves crashing against the net of light shook the clouds, revealing a vast sky beyond. In the depths of the sky, fragments of stars were falling, only to be lifted up by some force. The trajectory of the falling fragments drew runes of birth and death in the air. As the runes flickered, they restored order to the chaotic Principle around them.
This time, it was the ultimate showdown between the Laws of Life and Death and death and the Primordial Chaos Demonic Thought, a collision between order and Void. Even the remnants of consciousness of the Whale Demon hiding in the deep sea trembled under the impact of this power, cowering in the deepest part of the trench, not daring to reveal even a trace of its breath. In its remaining soul core, countless purified vengeful souls were reflected flying towards the light net, like moths flying towards the dawn.
The struggle between the light net and the water wall intensified. The cyan-gold light and the inky surge constantly collided, tore, and merged. Each tremor caused the seabed of the East Sea to crack with fine lines. The Earth Fire surging from the lines met the seawater, stirring up a large white mist. The white mist transformed into countless tiny Light Cocoon amidst the interplay of light and darkness. Within the cocoons were distorted Space-time Fragments, which were being repaired at a visible speed—the blood-red peach blossoms returned to their original pink color, Severed Fingers turned into falling petals; the burning sails lost their flames, revealing white canvas, on which the half-embroidered fish pattern by the daughter-in-law still remained; Ren Xiaoyao's phantom wiped away his black tears, revealing a peaceful face. The clear spring water dripping from his fingertips caused the Clover to sprout new buds, and the four leaves respectively displayed the runes "Life," "Death," "Order," and "Emptiness."
Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon, the Star Orbit on the corner of the Heavenly Freedom Demon Robe lit up, and thick black mist seeped from the location of the incomplete Seventh Star of the Big Dipper. The black mist condensed in the air into a serrated Demon Blade, its blade flowing with Primordial Chaos gray light, slashing towards the weakest point of the light network. "The restoration of order is nothing but self-deception!" he roared, his voice tinged with anger for the first time. The repaired fragments pierced his obsession with Primordial Chaos like needles. "Look at the nature of these beings—the old fisherman's concerns will decay with time, the woman's pity cannot save everyone, the child's joy will eventually be worn down by the world, and even the Spirit Vein you protect will one day dry up!"
The instant the Demon Blade struck the net of light, the Life and Death Vortex behind Ren Xiaoyao suddenly surged. Countless tiny points of light emerged from the azure-golden light, each a "thought" of all living beings in the world—a fisherman's anticipation of a bountiful harvest, a cultivator's pursuit of the Great Dao, plants' yearning for sunlight, and even the tenacity of ants carrying food. These thoughts converged into a river, flowing into the net of light along the patterns of light, instantly healing the cracks inflicted by the Demon Blade. It even propelled back an even more intense golden light, forcing Tongtian Zizai Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon. Several holes were scorched in his gray robe by the golden light, revealing burnt Star Orbit marks on his exposed skin.
"The decay, limitations, and extinction you speak of are all part of the order." Ren Xiaoyao's voice pierced through the roar, clearly reaching the ears of every living being, including the uncultivated fish and shrimp. "It is precisely because there is an end that attachment is all the more precious; it is precisely because there are limitations that compassion is all the more necessary to practice; it is precisely because it will perish that joy is worth fighting to hold onto." He raised his hand, pointing Heaven-Reaching Carefree Demon, the life-and-death patterns in his palm transforming into a cyan-gold longsword, its blade flowing with the runes of Spirit Vein and the willpower of living beings. "Primordial Chaos gives rise to order, yet you do not understand the vitality hidden within that order—this is the power you will never comprehend."
The longsword pierced through the air with a sharp whistling sound that tore through the Primordial Chaos. Wherever the sword wind swept, the Ink Black Ice Crystals shattered inch by inch, turning into clear water that nourished the seaweed; the Demonic Script runes were burned to ashes by the golden light, scattering into harmless dust in the wind; even the wood chips stuck in the old fisherman's palm were shaken out, and a faint golden light emanated from the wound, which surprisingly overlapped with the scent of the herbs that his son had applied to his palm years ago.