Between the cultivation realm and the mortal world stands a firm and ancient barrier. The Demon Court lies between the two.
Ten thousand years ago—
Humankind and the Xianghuo Gods fell into chaotic war. The demon race stood aside at first, only to be dragged into the divine conflict. That single campaign ended with every Demon Great Sage fallen, the Royal Court shattered, cast down from the cultivation realm, its vitality grievously wounded.
From that day forth, no demon has been able to ascend to Golden Immortal, let alone break through and soar beyond. However astonishing their talent, however unparalleled their brilliance, all are halted at the Selfless Realm, unable to take a further step, condemned to exhaust their lifespan and die.
Ten thousand years. How many prodigies can ten thousand years produce?
Yet all are stopped by a single word. Dao.
The demon race’s Great Dao, like the Dao of the Xianghuo Gods, lies fractured and broken, incapable of sheltering its people. The demons have declined utterly.
Perhaps in another ten thousand years they will vanish entirely from the cultivation realm and fall into the mortal dust. Perhaps they will not even have that long. When the coming Great Calamity descends, they may simply become its ash.
And in such peril, should not the demon race stand united? Should they not act as one, at any cost, for the future of their kind?
“Do you understand what I am saying?”
The speaker was the White Snake Elder, renowned throughout demonkind. The nobility of his bloodline could be traced back to the era of the ancient Soaring Serpent.
Before him stood a demon of no illustrious lineage, no ancestral inheritance… merely an ordinary white tiger. Yet his cultivation was formidable, and his mastery of the blade exceptional.
Silver-haired, clad in black armour, bearing himself with effortless nobility, a plain black sabre resting across his back. He was none other than the rising star of demonkind, Lord of Tiandu: Yin Feixue.
Behind him stretched ranks of Tiandu Guards, dark as storm-clouds.
Yin Feixue spoke without haste.
“The Elder speaks truly. Yet the lesser demons of the mortal world were long ago cast out by the Court. Their bloodlines are thin, their strength meagre. They can scarcely shoulder such a burden. I have not come to debate grand matters. I am here only for the young demons taken from my city.”
The White Snake Elder’s gaze turned glacial. “It seems Lord Yin refuses the wine of courtesy and prefers the wine of punishment.”
Yin Feixue replied coolly, “I know the Royal Court’s foundations run deep. But if you would imitate humankind and rule by coercion, then I shall use against you the same methods I use against them.”
The Elder’s pupils narrowed to vertical slits.
At that moment, a clear cry split the sky. Emerald feathers flashed. A peacock descended from the clouds, alighting between them.
The White Snake Elder withdrew his treasure and bowed. “Your Highness.”
Kong Yun gave a sharp snort, fine brows drawn tight.
“Have the serpents of the Court all died out?” he demanded coldly. “Or are you merely too cowardly to spill your own blood, that you seize our scattered kin from outside, slaughter them, and steal their essence? And you dare speak of reviving the Serpent Great Sage?”
The White Snake Elder’s face darkened, yet he said nothing.
Kong Yun turned to Yin Feixue. After a pause, he spoke quietly: “From the first moment I saw you, I knew you would one day stand against me.”
Yin Feixue smiled faintly. “Is that so? Why?”
Kong Yun stepped forward lightly, the iridescent feathers at his temples framing a face cold and luminous as frost.
“Your Dao is not mine. You feel no belonging to demonkind. There is no kinship in your gaze, no reverence for the Court.”
Yin Feixue answered without embarrassment.
“When I built Tiandu City, the Court offered not a single brick. When I resisted cultivators, the Court urged me to die for the clan’s honour. They have never brought coal in winter, only pushed me into the well.”
He looked steadily at the Elder.
“A Court that shoulders no responsibility and offers no example. A Court that issues a single decree and seizes the demons of my city. You would call that upright?”
“This place is neither yin nor yang, neither demon nor human. If I bow, I fear my head would be severed before I could rise.”
Kong Yun’s gaze flicked, frost gathering within it.
“The Royal Court exists so that you have not yet been exterminated. Yin Feixue, merely because you do not see its worth does not make it worthless.”
Yin Feixue laughed softly.
“If humankind sought our extermination, at least we could flee. But if we destroy ourselves from within, it will be our own hands that finish the task.”
“Yin Feixue!” Kong Yun’s voice rang sharp. “Mind your words!”
“Was it not the Court that captured demons? The Court that killed them? The Court that took their blood?”
Kong Yun’s feathers bristled.
“Fourteen thousand years! For fourteen thousand years we have had no Great Sage! Do you know how many insults we have endured? How many of our kind have died? The world descends into chaos. The Great Calamity is upon us. If we do not save ourselves now, we will be erased. No demon will cultivate again. We will become witless beasts, swine and dogs enslaved by humans. Do you understand?”
“I do not,” Yin Feixue answered, eyes burning cold. “Reviving a Great Sage. How noble, how dignified. So you slaughter demons and drain their blood. How many will suffice? Ten thousand? Twenty? Is such a price acceptable?”
“The Great Sage has been dead for ten thousand years. Why not shoulder that mantle yourself? Are you afraid or simply weak?”
For a heartbeat, fury flared in Kong Yun’s eyes. Then, he forced it down.
“Yes,” he said evenly. “We are incapable. For ten thousand years, no one has become Great Sage. The Dao of demonkind is shattered. Even attaining Golden Immortal is near impossible, let alone sainthood.”
“Afraid?” Yin Feixue pressed. “You believe you cannot succeed?”
Cannot?
He built his Dao foundation in a century. Reached Illusory Divinity in twenty years. He was the greatest prodigy the Court had ever seen.
He revived a cultivation lineage. Elevated the Feather Clan into the Court’s dominant force.
There was nothing Kong Yun could not accomplish.
Given a thousand years, he could reach Golden Immortal. Given ten thousand, he could ascend to sagehood and reopen the path of demon cultivation.
But did demonkind have that time? No.
A single truth remained: Those of royal blood must lead from the front.
Kong Yun fell silent. At last he said quietly,
“Yes. I cannot. Therefore I will serve as the stepping stone.”
Yin Feixue’s voice hardened. “Xue Cuo’s Dao has already been annihilated beyond trace. How are you any different?”
After a moment, Kong Yun answered, “No one is Xue Cuo. With the calamity approaching, reviving the Great Sage is the surest way to preserve our race.”
“You are wrong,” Yin Feixue said steadily. “If Xue Cuo knew, he would stop you. You will disappoint him.”
Kong Yun drew a breath. “Our words do not meet. Go. We each have our path and our fate. This is my burden to bear.”
“I will never walk your road,” Yin Feixue replied.
“Nor I yours.”
They departed in opposite directions, leaving the White Snake Elder behind, a cold, covetous light flickering in his eyes.
…
Kong Yun returned to the Royal Court heavy-hearted and met the White Tiger Elder.
“The demon race stands at the brink.”
“When the nest is overturned, how can eggs remain unbroken?” the Elder replied calmly. “Without hide, where can fur attach? Surely the Peacock Clan understands this best.”
At three thousand seven hundred years old, he was the prime of demon life. The White Tiger oversaw the Court’s affairs, half a demon emperor in all but name.
Kong Yun’s tone was cool. “You need not test me. I am of the Peacock royal blood. I will not retreat.”
The Elder smiled. “Good. Your bloodline is pure, your power vast. Even without serving as vessel, you would have achieved greatness. But you were born in this age. You are the one most likely to revive the Southern Peacock Great Sage, and is thus our greatest hope.”
Kong Yun’s faint mockery faded into something darker. “Then there is nothing more to say.”
The White Tiger bowed deeply. “The elders of your clan will see you off. The demons of the Court are willing to serve you as king.”
Demons filed into the temple. They were mostly elders, the race’s remaining pillars. The Feather Clan stood foremost, those who had entered the Wheel of Purification with Kong Yun. Behind them gathered elites of every clan.
This was the strongest force demonkind still possessed.
The young were newly transformed, too fragile. The old were near the end of their span. Even without attack, the Court would wither beneath Heaven’s calamity. They knelt as one.
“Your Majesty.”
The cry rose cold and vast, echoing through the temple like wind across mountains.
Kong Yun stood alone at the front. No crown. No imperial robes. Too young to be a king, yet placed upon the throne.
Once, he might have retreated. Hesitated. Refused. Now he had no choice.
All living beings fear death, especially one as gifted, as resolute as he. And yet, he would die willingly. Without resentment. Because it was his responsibility.
“Your Majesty, you are the first hope of our demon race’s revival.”
“I shall remember Your Majesty for all eternity.”
“Your Majesty! You have saved the entire demon race!”
The Purifying Wheel radiated a pure, snow-white light.
Through tears, the gathered demons gazed at their young king. His eyes lingered upon the Wheel for a long while. At last, he let out a faint, self-mocking smile.
They saw his clenched fists, the slight tremor of his lashes. His struggle, his hesitation… it surfaced only for an instant before being drowned beneath the swelling cries of “Your Majesty.”
He looked up at the long flight of steps and said quietly, “There is but one road to the Purifying Wheel. I hope that my people need not walk the same path.”
The White Tiger Elder called after him, “Your Majesty… your human friend. Will you not see him one last time?”
Kong Yun’s stern expression faltered, just slightly. His lashes lowered. It was as though he had thought of something faintly amusing; a soft scoff escaped him.
His fine, beautiful features softened. Facing the statue of the Peacock Great Sage before him, he smiled faintly.
“He will likely become… the foremost figure of the Xianghuo Divine Dao,” he said. “A pity I shall not witness it.”
“I searched for him in the mortal world for twelve years. Yet when we met, we had only a few days.”
“A pity.”
“In this world, all people and all things are tedious. Only he was somewhat interesting, and I have no next life.”
He fell silent for a moment, then smiled lightly.
“There is no need to tell him where I have gone. Since I will not return, let him repay me with twelve more years in the mortal realm.”
Kong Yun walked deeper into the great hall of the demon race. Time had worn down the grandeur of the saints, yet an awe-inspiring solemnity still lingered in the air.
Six statues of Demon Great Sages stood in silent vigil.
Above them rotated a divine artefact, ceaselessly turning. Its light was utterly pure, immaculate. It was the demon race’s final immortal treasure: the Purifying Wheel.
The White Tiger halted beneath it and asked, “Then have you nothing to say to your own kin?”
For the last time, Kong Yun turned his head.
His gaze passed over several young peacock demons behind him. Their bloodlines were thin; even now they could not assume human form. The Dao of demonkind had withered to the point that their very chance of true transformation was fading.
It seemed as though Kong Yun wished to speak. But in the end, he said nothing. The peacock plumes at his temples drooped beside his ears like strands of blue-green hair.
He had already seen the desolate future. He would be the one to clear the road ahead. Let those who came after enjoy the glory of the demon race’s revival.
Step by step, Kong Yun walked into the Purifying Wheel. Behind him, more than two hundred elders of the Feather Clan followed as one. The instant they entered, their bodies dissolved into pure, radiant blood.
The Feather Clan disdained the slaughter of weak young demons of their own kind. Their ideals were proud and unsullied. If a Great Sage must be revived, then let it begin with us.
So long as the Feather Clan’s Great Sage returned, their race would rise again. For that, nothing was too great a price.
Because of Kong Yun, the Feather Clan would likely be the first among demonkind to restore their Great Sage. Their names would be inscribed in demon history, sung and remembered for ten thousand years.
