Several days later.
After sweeping over vast stretches of land, the enormous Demon Mountain finally settled deep in the desert. Zhao Changfeng, who had been sitting motionless at the cave entrance, opened his eyes.
Dressed in the Crippled Demon Sect's signature crimson robe, he gazed at the dusky yellow glow in the distant sky and the boundless sands.
"Second Senior Brother..."
Lu Tao looked with awe at the black character for "demon" on the back of his crimson robe. After a moment's hesitation, he pleaded, "Could you ask Senior Teng for us? Let us join the Crippled Demon Sect too?"
Xu Yifei hurriedly chimed in, "Master must have abducted us both too. If we'd had a choice, we wouldn't have wanted to cultivate some Lingxiao Qi-Controlling Art!"
In times like these, who wouldn't want to become a demonic cultivator with a legitimate standing, free to walk the world openly?
Disciples of sects like the Lingxiao Sect trembled with fear even when showing their faces in the mortal cities of the Demon Kingdom. They constantly had to guard against having their identities exposed and being hunted down or captured, eking out a bitter existence with no assurance of tomorrow.
Once they became members of the Crippled Demon Sect, their status would change as dramatically as heaven and earth turning upside down. All they had to do was wear a crimson robe embroidered with the words "Incomplete Demon" when visiting mortal kingdoms, and who wouldn't treat them courteously as honored guests?
Without turning around, Zhao Changfeng said indifferently, "The Lingxiao Sect is gone, and I'm no longer your second senior brother. This is where we part."
"Ah."
The two sighed dejectedly, gathered all their belongings-including the Spiritglow Sword-and helplessly left the outward-facing cave assigned to Zhao Changfeng.
"Be careful to conceal your identities. The Crippled Demon Sect won't attack you again, but watch out for other Devil Dao Sects."
Zhao Changfeng offered one final warning, having done all that kindness and duty demanded.
"Understood."
After answering, the two stepped onto the cracked sand, where waves of heat rolled over them.
After walking some distance, they turned to gaze enviously at the towering, pitch-black Demon Mountain. They knew that from this point onward, they and Zhao Changfeng belonged to two different worlds.
Zhao Changfeng had ascended to heaven in a single stride.
"We misjudged him. Who would have thought Second Senior Brother was the most formidable of them all? No wonder he was the only one allowed to join the demonic sect."
"The world is harsh. Perhaps only someone like Second Senior Brother can survive in it. The two of us... really aren't worthy."
The two muttered quietly as they walked.
Their extraordinarily gifted youngest junior brother, their beautiful and clever junior sister, their socially adept eldest senior brother, and even their meticulous, far-sighted master and his wife had all become corpses in the catastrophe that annihilated their sect.
The two of them had escaped certain death only because they had made the right choice at the critical moment and become Zhao Changfeng's accomplices.
Recalling Zhao Changfeng's usual conduct and his ruthless decisiveness in peril, they felt awe rise within them. They were certain he would navigate life in the Crippled Demon Sect with ease.
Elsewhere.
Zhao Changfeng held the Black Iron Demon Token that marked him as a nominal disciple. Worry gradually clouded his brow as he sighed. "Getting by in a demonic sect isn't nearly as easy as you two imagine."
The Demon Token was cold and heavy, with the characters for "incomplete" and "demon" engraved on opposite sides. It served as proof of his identity.
Old Devil Teng was now his new master, but he had nearly a hundred nominal disciples like Zhao Changfeng. Perhaps even Old Devil Teng himself didn't know the exact number.
Even knowing would have been meaningless, because the number kept changing. Every so often, someone died.
The man who had died from a backlash while cultivating the Corpse Demon Art several days earlier had been one of his nominal disciples.
Just recently, another senior brother who cultivated the Essence-Devouring Demon Art had also died horribly during cultivation. Before his death, he had wailed for six full hours.
Demonic cultivators were highly likely to die suddenly, yet theirs remained the dominant path in this world, simply because their cultivation advanced quickly enough.
Human lifespans had limits. For ordinary mortals who had never embarked on cultivation, a hundred years was the utmost limit. The same was true of cultivators like Zhao Changfeng, who stood at the lowest level, the Yuanjing Stage.
After that, each breakthrough into a major realm added a hundred years to their lifespan, up through the Heaven-Opening Realm.
Only those who could breach the seemingly impassable barrier of the Heaven-Opening Realm and were fortunate enough to enter the ultimate Creation Realm could instantly gain another nine thousand years of life.
Although the theoretical maximum lifespan of a human cultivator was nine thousand eight hundred years, there might not be even one in ten million who could actually reach it.
Whether for the demonic cultivators of today or the righteous cultivators of the past, eight hundred years was the true limit.
Mortals who muddled through life without accomplishing anything might peacefully enjoy their brief lives. Cultivators fought heaven for their lives, thirsting for higher realms and longer lifespans, but most perished along the way.
Teng Kun's disciples were a case in point. He had nearly a hundred nominal disciples under him, but all were at the Yuanjing or Yuanqi Stage, cultivating in caves on the lowest two levels of this demonic mountain.
Every so often, one of them died. Only some died from other causes; most succumbed to backlash from their demonic arts.
Regardless of a nominal disciple's temperament, talent, or background, only by advancing to the Primordial Spirit realm could they become his formal disciple and earn the right to move into a cave on the third level.
Only his formal disciples received other generous benefits, could ask him to resolve difficulties with their cultivation methods, and were granted higher-level demonic arts.
Yet he currently had only four formal disciples.
Even at his peak, he had possessed a mere nine formal disciples. Most of those who were no longer there had succumbed to backlash from their demonic arts.
It was the same for him, for the other elders of the Crippled Demon Sect, for the other demonic sects of the Lingyao Realm, and for every demonic cultivation sect throughout the world.
Those with low cultivation would forever remain nominal disciples. Restricted by resources, cultivation methods, and... lifespan, they also occupied the lowest rung of the hierarchy.
To obtain more, attain higher status, and become formal disciples, they had to advance to the Primordial Spirit realm.
Thus, nominal disciples cultivated desperately, forgetting everything else, only to die from backlash one after another. Eventually, a lucky few broke through to the Primordial Spirit realm and changed their status, only to face even greater dangers in cultivation.
-Breakthroughs into subsequent realms were just as difficult, and the likelihood of death was even higher.
"It's hard."
Zhao Changfeng sighed again.
Over the past few days, he had not caught another glimpse of the enormous bronze cauldron suspended beyond the heavens, nor had he recovered any memories from before his transmigration.
He only vaguely sensed that, in his original world, he had not been an entirely good person, and that he had been somewhat at odds with that world and its countless restrictive rules.
As for why his soul and body had separated after his transmigration, or why his true body lay at the bottom of an enormous cauldron, he had no way of knowing.
The original owner had been far too dull-witted, living entirely in his own world. His understanding of the world beyond had been woefully inadequate, leaving Zhao Changfeng little useful information.
For now, all he could do was adapt to this new world and use his position as a nominal disciple of the Crippled Demon Sect to understand his current situation as quickly as possible. He would make further plans as his circumstances changed.
"Junior Brother Zhao."
A cloyingly sweet voice suddenly rang out. A young woman wrapped in the same crimson robe stood smiling before his cultivation cave.
She was tall and voluptuous, her crimson robe hugging her body. Her shapely curves invited wandering thoughts.
Her beautiful face shone with a jade-like luster, and her long, bright eyes were enchanting. An air of mature seductiveness radiated from her, drawing Zhao Changfeng out of his thoughts.
"Senior Sister Ruan."
Zhao Changfeng's gaze lingered almost imperceptibly on her empty left sleeve. A pity. She's missing an arm.
Ruan Meizhen handled the various affairs of the nominal disciples. Her cultivation was at the peak of the Yuanqi Stage, only one step away from the Primordial Spirit realm.
If she successfully broke through, she would become Old Devil Teng's fifth formal disciple, entitled to move to the third level of the demonic mountain and cultivate higher-level demonic arts.
Yet that single step had held her back for five full years, during which she had nearly died from demonic-art backlash several times.
"Those two junior brothers of yours have left, haven't they?"
Ruan Meizhen glanced into the cave with her lovely eyes. A radiant smile bloomed on her face as she said in a soft, melting voice, "I was rather busy these past few days and forgot to bring you the demonic cultivation manuals you're entitled to inspect. I've come to make up for that."
Zhao Changfeng nodded. "Sorry for the trouble, Senior Sister. Please come in."
With his permission, Ruan Meizhen stepped gracefully and unhurriedly into the cave, her long, lovely legs swaying. She casually placed three Demonic Cultivation Art manuals on the square stone table.
"The Corpse Demon Art, the Essence-Devouring Demon Art, and the Ten Thousand Poisons Art. You can only choose one to cultivate."
Her vivid red lips curled slightly upward as she explained with a charming smile, "You used to be a disciple of the Lingxiao Sect, so you should know the characteristics of our cultivation methods. The Corpse Demon Art lets us gather corpse qi from the bodies of living creatures to accelerate our cultivation. That includes spirit birds, beasts, insects, ordinary mortals, and even cultivators like you and me."
"Once corpse qi enters your dantian, your Spirit Sea becomes contaminated with foreign matter. If you suffer a backlash, you'll develop a craving to eat corpses."
"The Essence-Devouring Demon Art and the Ten Thousand Poisons Art are similar. One absorbs the blood of living creatures to advance your cultivation, while the other absorbs toxins from highly poisonous substances to strengthen you."
"Whether it's the blood of spirit beasts and other people or the toxins within poisonous creatures, none of it originates in your own body. They likewise carry an enormous risk of backlash."
"Junior Brother Zhao, which demonic art do you intend to choose?"
An unusual gleam rippled through her lovely eyes as she smiled at Zhao Changfeng's sharply defined, resolute face, recalling what this junior brother had done a few days earlier.
A disciple of the righteous Lingxiao Sect had not only betrayed his master and his master's wife to stay alive, but had also slaughtered his fellow disciples.
He truly is a great talent for our demonic path. He's worth keeping a closer eye on.
Admiration stirred within Ruan Meizhen.
"May I ask... which demonic art you chose, Senior Sister?"
Zhao Changfeng asked hesitantly.
He still vividly remembered the horrifying state of the senior brother who had cultivated the Corpse Demon Art before those black iron bars. Another cultivator of the Essence-Devouring Demon Art had died just two days earlier, leaving him unable to decide.
"I cultivate the Ten Thousand Poisons Art."
As Ruan Meizhen spoke, wisps of brilliantly colored energy suddenly seeped from her alluring body. They intertwined over her skin, transforming into the shapes of scorpions, venomous snakes, toads, and other poisonous creatures.
A strange, sour, rotten odor also quietly spread through Zhao Changfeng's cave.
Zhao Changfeng hastily held his breath and naturally put some distance between them, moving to the cave entrance where he could flee into the desert at any moment. His voice, however, remained exceptionally calm. "Do you have any recommendations, Senior Sister?"
Ruan Meizhen bent slightly at the waist. Her heavy breasts and the black character for "incomplete" on her crimson robe pressed against the stone table before she put away two of the manuals. She said softly, "Choose the Essence-Devouring Demon Art. At least its cultivation method won't be too disgusting."
Zhao Changfeng broke into a broad grin and nodded. "All right. I'll take your advice, Senior Sister."