Sacred Gate Supreme Art: Fragment of the Heavenly Demon Art

Zhu Yingxiong ultimately did not ask the question.

"Deng Yin, come in."

As soon as Xie Guangran finished speaking, Deng Yin entered with a bow and stood to one side with his hands lowered.

Xie Guangran raised a hand and pointed at Zhu Yingxiong. The motion was slow, yet brooked no doubt.

"From this day onward, he is my personal disciple and the young master of the Yingui Sect."

Deng Yin bowed without the slightest hesitation or surprise.

"Yes. This subordinate pays respects to the young master."

Zhu Yingxiong hurriedly turned sideways and returned the salute, respectful without overstepping.

Seeing him like this, Xie Guangran gave a slight nod and spoke again.

"Little Nine, now that you are the young master of my Yingui Sect, you cannot go without a proper name. Are you willing to let me bestow one upon you?"

This was an opportunity to gain the sect master's favor. Accepting it would bring him nothing but benefits.

Yet he said, "I have already chosen a name for myself."

"This disciple has taken the liberty of choosing a name for himself."

"Oh?" Xie Guangran raised an eyebrow, his emotions unreadable as he asked blandly, "What name?"

"Zhu Yingxiong."

The moment those three words left his mouth, Xie Guangran froze.

Deng Yin froze as well.

Xie Guangran turned his gaze toward Deng Yin as though seeking confirmation, then asked instinctively, "What name?"

There was unmistakable surprise in his tone. "Why would you give yourself an imperial surname?"

So it was not that he had misheard.

Zhu Yingxiong's heart stirred—an imperial surname? He immediately realized that Xie Guangran had misunderstood him.

"Zhu, as in Zhuge," he explained calmly.

At those words, Xie Guangran's expression relaxed slightly. He savored the unfamiliar surname once more.

"Oh... Zhu Yingxiong. Zhu Yingxiong."

He nodded, and a trace of a smile unexpectedly appeared on his aged face.

"Good. It is a fine name."

He waved his hand, as though saying so much had already drained much of his strength. Weariness seeped into his voice.

"Deng Yin, I am tired. You handle the rest."

Zhu Yingxiong followed Deng Yin out of the waterside pavilion.

The night breeze met him head-on, carrying the cool scent of flowers and grass from the rear garden. It instantly scattered the stifling heat within the pavilion. He drew a deep breath, and the slight muddle in his mind brought on by the heat cleared somewhat in the night wind.

The two followed the narrow path by which they had come, passing through courtyard after courtyard toward the front compound. Deng Yin walked ahead in utter silence, saying nothing. Zhu Yingxiong followed behind without speaking either.

He was pondering everything that had just happened.

Becoming the young master of the Yingui Sect was a twist far too sudden, wholly beyond his expectations.

He had thought this meeting would merely be a routine inspection by the sect master, meant to confirm the value of this chess piece, perhaps with a few tasks assigned at most. He had never expected it to end like this.

What especially caught his attention was the strange reaction from Xie Guangran and Deng Yin when he had spoken the name "Zhu Yingxiong."

It was not mere surprise. It felt more like... an unexpected emotional jolt.

In the end, the sect master had given no instructions whatsoever regarding his undercover identity. Was it being set aside for now, or were there other arrangements? Or perhaps, in the sect master's eyes, the identity of young master was already enough, and nothing else mattered?

For the moment, he could not make sense of it.

Still, he had already made up his mind not to abandon his identity on the righteous path for the time being. After all, he had become a "seed expert" of the Eight Schools Alliance, with countless resources still waiting for him.

As for how he would maneuver between the two in the future...

He raised his head and looked at the pale moon in the night sky.

Naturally, he would strive toward surpassing that senior known as the "Evil King."

Just as he was lost in thought, Deng Yin abruptly stopped.

"Does the young master have any orders?"

Zhu Yingxiong withdrew his gaze and looked at the cold-faced elder. Then he suddenly smiled.

"Elder Deng, now that I am, at any rate, the young master of the Yingui Sect, surely it makes no sense for me to know not a single Sacred Gate martial art besides the Purple Blood Art?"

Deng Yin turned around and looked at him quietly.

"Please take me to see the Yingui Sect's collection of martial arts manuals, Elder Deng. Let me learn a move or two, so I might at least look the part of a young master," Zhu Yingxiong said with a smile, his tone carrying a touch of natural entitlement.

Deng Yin was not overly surprised upon hearing this. He merely nodded slightly.

"Very well."

After a pause, he added, "But after seeing the manuals, I hope the young master will not be too disappointed."

The words carried deeper meaning, but Zhu Yingxiong paid them no mind. He had long coveted the Sacred Gate's supreme arts—the various divine techniques recorded in the Heavenly Demon Manual, each renowned throughout the martial world. Now that he had a chance to see them for himself, he felt only anticipation.

Deng Yin led him through several courtyards to a secret chamber. When he pushed open the door, the inside was pitch-black. Familiar with the way, Deng Yin walked to the wall and lit several candles.

As the flames gradually brightened, they illuminated the room's furnishings—rows upon rows of neatly arranged bookshelves, packed with all kinds of manuals and scrolls.

"These are all the Sacred Gate's collected texts." Deng Yin pointed at the bookshelves, his tone flat.

Zhu Yingxiong stepped inside impatiently.

He went straight to the nearest shelf. With one sweep of his eyes, his gaze landed on the most conspicuous spot.

Heavenly Demon Art.

The Yingui Sect's treasured supreme art!

His heart heated up, and he hurriedly reached out to take it down. Yet the moment it fell into his hand, he sensed something was wrong. It was too thin. A foreboding feeling flashed through him, and he quickly opened it.

A few pages.

After turning only a few pages, he had reached the end.

He froze.

This was actually an incomplete copy. Of the full eighteen levels of the Heavenly Demon Art, only a few scattered pages remained. They were utterly unsystematic—let alone suitable for cultivation, they were difficult even to understand.

He set down the Heavenly Demon Art and went to the shelf beside it.

Twelve Flower-Interwoven Branches. He picked it up and opened it. It too was an incomplete copy.

Then he took up Phantom Sword Technique, Sword Force in Harmony, Illusory Demon Movement Technique...

He examined several books in succession. Every one had once been famous throughout the martial world, every one a legendary supreme art of the demonic sects, yet every one was reduced to fragmented chapters and incomplete passages.

The books lining the shelves looked dazzlingly abundant, but very few were truly complete.

The only texts that could be considered complete were ordinary demonic sect martial arts such as Blood Essence Finger and Eighteen Soul-Returning Claws. Though they would still be rare supreme arts outside, compared to those legendary techniques, they were hardly worth mentioning.

Standing amid the shelves and looking at the broken pages and scattered fragments before him, Zhu Yingxiong finally understood the true meaning of Deng Yin's words: "Do not be too disappointed."

He had expected some losses, but never imagined they would be so thorough.

He finally understood why, after Patriarch Li Gong, the last two generations of sect masters had obsessively focused on the Purple Blood Art.

It was not that they did not wish to cultivate anything else. There truly was nothing else left to cultivate.

The vast Yingui Sect, once a great demonic sect that had rivaled the Compassionate Voyage Sanctuary for centuries, now had only one reasonably complete sect-defending supreme art to show for itself: the Purple Blood Art.

And the Heavenly Demon Secret, once famed across the land, had long since been almost entirely lost, leaving behind only these remnants for later generations to mourn.

"Now that the young master has seen them, are you greatly disappointed?"

Deng Yin's voice came from behind him, carrying a hint of understanding.

"Most of the supreme arts recorded in the Sacred Gate's Heavenly Demon Manual were lost amid the upheavals of successive generations. All the sect masters of the past could collect were these fragments. Preserving them until now was no easy feat."

He paused, then asked again.

"Does the young master still wish to continue looking?"

Zhu Yingxiong did not answer. His gaze had fallen upon the incomplete volume of Illusory Demon Movement Technique in his hand.

Within his field of vision, a pale golden glow quietly unfolded.

Illusory Demon Movement Technique fragment, recording...

Attempting deduction...