Chapter Ten: Transformation and Cultivation of Demons

Xu Wenshan awoke in a tree. As he turned over, he nearly tumbled out. Glancing around, he found the air crisp and fresh, birds chirping in the canopy, layers of green leaves weaving a tapestry that allowed slender shafts of sunlight to pierce through. He slapped himself, hard; the sting assured him it was no dream.

It seemed he truly was in a forest.

With utmost care, Xu Wenshan climbed down. The grass, barely reaching his ankles, was soft with dew. Only upon touching the ground did he realize his shoes had vanished, and his clothing had been reduced to mere rags.

What on earth had happened last night? Staring at the remnants of his tattered clothes, a chill crept down his spine.

Xu Wenshan strained to recall, but his memory ended abruptly after persuading the temple maiden. Everything thereafter was a blank.

While he stood in the grass, lost and uncertain, a small figure emerged from the depths of the woods, carrying a wild pheasant in her hand.

It was a little girl, seven or eight years old, her delicate face still round with childhood, yet already hinting at beauty. She wore no proper clothes, only a skirt fashioned from vines, leaves, and animal hide.

"You’re awake?" she said, stopping before Xu Wenshan and placing the pheasant on the ground, as if they were old acquaintances.

But Xu Wenshan could not recall ever knowing such a child.

"Did you bring me here? What’s your name? Where are your parents?" he asked in quick succession.

She looked up at him and replied, "I’m Lu Ze."

"What?"

...

Taoist priests seek the Way of Heaven, absorbing the vital energy of heaven and earth to cultivate themselves in pursuit of immortality.

But demon cultivators are denied access to the Way of Heaven; on the path of cultivation, they have forged an alternative.

The method of demon cultivation is one of plunder.

Whereas Taoists draw from the world’s spiritual energy, demon cultivators steal the cultivation of other demons.

By forcing a demon to yield its very life-blood, one could enslave it as a servant.

The master’s control over the servant was absolute: with a mere thought, the master could draw upon the demon’s power at will, or wield the magic that only the demon could perform.

Yet the bodies of mortals could not withstand the invasion of demonic power. Thus, demon cultivators devised a way to temper their bones, transforming them into something akin to a demon’s, so that the demon’s energy could be stored within. This process was agonizing, a trial of both body and spirit.

Some, however, are born with bones naturally attuned to demons. For them, the ordeal is skipped; their progress in demonic arts is swift and sure.

In ancient times, there was a great demon cultivator named Ji Yu, said to have enslaved three thousand demons, earning the title Plague Ghost—wherever he went, not a blade of grass survived.

But after the great battle between good and evil three thousand years ago, demon cultivators vanished from the land, their techniques lost to time. Only a few ancient monsters retained knowledge of such arts.

Lu Ze had, by chance, learned of demon cultivation from one such ancient being.

To save Xu Wenshan’s life now, the only way was to become his servant. Once bound as master and servant, Xu Wenshan could draw as much yin energy as he pleased without risking death.

"So be it," thought Lu Ze. "From this moment on, I am your servant. Although this is not the fate I wished for, it will suffice."

A surge of dense yin energy swept over them, black as ink. When it receded, Xu Wenshan’s face was ghostly pale, and Lu Ze, collapsed in his arms, had shrunk to the size of a young girl.

The surplus of yin energy inside Xu Wenshan threatened to shatter Lu Ze’s spiritual body, forcing her to reduce her size for better control.

After his transformation, Xu Wenshan slipped into a coma lasting three days. To prevent discovery, Lu Ze had carried him deep into the forest near Deer-Crane Ravine. Thus, Xu Wenshan had awakened in a tree.

...

When Lu Ze finished her tale, Xu Wenshan was left stricken and speechless.

Fate had, as always, played him for a fool.

Becoming a demon cultivator was worse than becoming a demon.

Taoists rarely troubled themselves with ordinary demons, but a demon cultivator would be hunted to the ends of the earth.

Xu Wenshan had certainly wished for some kind of cheat or special talent, but not this—becoming a demon cultivator, a path long since erased from history.

Now, nearly nothing remained of demon cultivation in the records, for they had been eradicated in that ancient war. Yet hints could still be found, if one read closely.

It was said that long ago, the Taoist sects would, on certain days, mobilize all their members to hunt monsters. Xu Wenshan had puzzled over this before—monsters had never posed a threat to the sects, nor did they make a habit of hunting them. Why then did they search for monsters?

Now he understood: it was not demons they sought, but demon cultivators.

They scoured the land for hidden demon cultivators, carrying out systematic slaughter.

Now, with demon cultivators extinct, that practice had become merely a festival, the bloodstained execution platform displayed only as a grim relic.

To become a demon cultivator meant to have no allies, no protectors, and to stand against every Taoist sect in the world.

It took Xu Wenshan a full half hour to accept this new reality.

...

In the end, he reasoned that his enemies had been the peasants and warlords; now he simply had one more—the Taoist world.

To be hacked to death by peasants or slain by a Taoist’s sword—death was death; there was little difference.

One must look on the bright side. By wildly absorbing yin energy during his transformation, his body had already been infused and advanced a level, now standing at the Body Tempering stage of demon cultivation—equivalent to the Qi Refining stage for Taoists.

Demons could not learn spells by study; their magic was innate in their blood. Each time they ascended, they would awaken a new spell. Thus, Xu Wenshan had instinctively mastered the earth demon’s basic spell: Stone Skin.

He clenched his fists, feeling demonic power surging within him, channeled from Lu Ze. Their bond meant they were now linked, able to transfer power and even communicate across great distances.

The benefits of this power were many: his physical abilities were soaring. The world appeared before his eyes in minute detail—he could count the feathers on a bird atop a tree a kilometer away. Every book he’d read, every memory, arranged themselves obediently in his mind; at a thought, he could recall the dynasties of the Northern and Southern courts or the flags of two hundred nations of Earth.

He had no doubt that a single punch could kill two oxen.

Such was the power of a demon.

To survive, he must wield this strength well.

In the mountains, Xu Wenshan did not rush home, but devoted himself to learning the arts of cultivation.

Demon cultivation differed from Taoist practice; Taoists drew upon the spiritual energy of the world, while demon cultivators required yin energy.

Yin energy was much easier to find—wells, graveyards, even places with bad feng shui were filled with it. The only trouble was, as mortals, demon cultivators could not absorb yin energy directly; instead, their demon servant would absorb it, refine it into pure demon power, and then feed it to their master.

The servant was like an antenna, or a rice cooker—gathering yin energy, cooking it down, and serving it up for the master to feast upon.

Taoist cultivators had many ways to counteract evil and possessed powerful treasures and techniques. All things being equal, a demon cultivator could never best a Taoist. But their advantage was speed and scale: if one demon was no match, then gather two, ten, a hundred.

With a hundred demons, cultivation would advance at a staggering pace, and each demon meant more spells. A well-developed demon cultivator could stand toe to toe with any Taoist.

If Taoists were gods, demon cultivators were a swarm.

It was said that in ancient times, no demon cultivator would leave the mountains before gathering at least fifty demon servants.

But was that truly the only way? Xu Wenshan wondered.

At that moment, Lu Ze was demonstrating Stone Skin before him. Watching the plates of stone forming over her body, a new idea began to take shape within Xu Wenshan’s mind.