Chapter Thirty-Three: On the Edge of Life and Death

[Seal Master: Yang Fan]
[Fate: Mountain Patrol Envoy]
[Awakening Level: 27.3%]
[Awakened Divine Abilities: Qi Consumption, Earth Sense, Intimidation, Qi Lock, Swift Movement, Earth Surge, Night Vision]
[Earth Essence: 0]
[Cultivation: Martial Path, Eighth Rank]

As Yang Fan cried out in his heart, streams of energy materialized from nothing, merging into his limbs and bones, rapidly healing his injuries. Skin, muscles, bones, organs, blood—all seemed to be undergoing countless refinements in this moment, strengthening at a remarkable pace. His vital energy surged, and his divine abilities silently grew more potent. Some of the power poured into his mind, banishing every negative emotion and countless strange visions.

At this instant, the red gleam in Yang Fan's eyes faded. Agitation, murderous intent, endless malice—all dissipated like mist.

“Intimidate!”

Yang Fan turned his gaze once more to the wooden statue’s eyes, knowing how crucial this moment was, and acted without hesitation. His rationality kept the effect confined to the secret chamber.

Liu Kaizong was struck first, his steps halting; this time, the impact on him was noticeably greater.

The greatest effect, however, was on the wooden statue. For reasons unknown, the red light in its eyes was instantly scattered by more than half; Yang Fan did not notice, but the crimson in Liu Kaizong’s eyes waned significantly as well.

Clang!

Raising the Black Cloud Blade, Yang Fan brought it down. The red glow in the wooden statue’s eyes suddenly burst forth, and an invisible force rang in his ears, seeping into his heart.

“Do you desire supreme power over the mortal world?”
“Do you long for three thousand beautiful concubines?”
“Do you wish for wealth that rivals nations?”
“Do you crave the strength to overturn seas and mountains?”
“Do you seek immortality?”
“If you wish it, I—the Demon God—can grant you all.”
“Kneel sincerely before me, and I shall bestow upon you everything you desire.”

The nightmare-like murmurs lulled the mind, magnifying desires without end, pulling one toward ruin.

But at this moment, Yang Fan’s awakening had just advanced, his body suffused with supreme power, rendering the demonic whispers nearly powerless against him.

“Slash!”

In that brief pause, the Black Cloud Blade descended, splitting the wooden statue in two. The crimson glow swiftly faded and vanished.

“Human, I will remember you.”

A cold, indifferent voice echoed in his ears, then dissipated. Yang Fan relaxed, but remained vigilant. Through his Earth Sense, he confirmed the red wooden statue held no further abnormalities.

Turning to look at Liu Kaizong, he saw the red in his eyes had mostly receded, his previously raging aura greatly diminished. The markings that had crept down from his forehead rapidly faded, but the horns on his head and his goat-like hooves remained unchanged. His shriveled body was just as before.

“What… what happened to me?” Liu Kaizong’s voice was hoarse. He took a step, staggered, and collapsed to sit on the ground.

“You were seduced by a demon, and bore its power,” Yang Fan replied, now fully restored—no, stronger than ever before. Gripping the Black Cloud Blade, he approached.

Liu Kaizong was dazed.

“How did you obtain the wooden statue?” Yang Fan asked, curiosity rising within him.

A demon—an evil, terrifying power on one hand, but also a symbol of something else: longevity.

“How did I get it? Let me think!” Liu Kaizong had lost his edge, feeling the power within him draining at an alarming rate, his life force diminishing. He knew he would not live long, especially with a living reaper at his side.

“It was about six or seven years ago. A band of wanted thieves fled into the mountains, and I led men in pursuit. As soon as we entered the mountains, a torrential rain began to fall.”

Perhaps sensing his end, or perhaps under the lingering influence of Intimidation, Liu Kaizong began to recount everything.

With rain pouring down, they sought shelter, only to be nearly buried by a sudden flash flood. Once the danger passed, Liu Kaizong found an exquisitely carved wooden statue, which he inexplicably picked up and brought home.

From that day on, he found himself subtly influenced, tempted and ensnared; gradually, he became a devotee.

And gained power.

At that time, he was only a ninth-rank martial artist, his potential exhausted, with little hope of further advancement. Even with connections higher up, his strength was too meager.

But from the wooden statue, Liu Kaizong gained power. It merged with his heart, leaving a mark, allowing him to break through his limits and reach the eighth rank.

He fell deeper and deeper, secretly seeking out sacrifices for the statue—always children. With each offering, the statue’s power grew, granting him even greater strength. By activating the mark in his heart, his power would surge. Through the statue, he could even transform, raising his combat ability to the sixth rank. The strength filled him with boundless arrogance; he even dreamed of destroying the city’s Skywatch Tower.

“I remember a time when children went missing in great numbers. That was your doing?” Yang Fan recalled a memory from years past.

Several children had vanished from the town in quick succession.

“Yes,” Liu Kaizong sighed, his face ashen, his aura even fainter. “I remember one day in particular. That day, my concubine gave birth to twins. I was overjoyed, even dancing with happiness. But the statue declared them ‘the finest offerings.’ If I sacrificed them, I’d gain supreme glory and power. But they were my own flesh and blood, my children!”

Yet one night, without even realizing it, he led his children to the basement and offered them to the Demon God.

When he awoke, he nearly lost his mind. Only then did he truly understand that consorting with demons could bring nothing but nightmares. From then on, Liu Kaizong seldom entered the basement.

“If not for you killing my sons, if not for the jealousy I felt at your strength at such a young age, I would never have turned to the demon,” Liu Kaizong said through gritted teeth, before regret filled his expression. “Only now do I finally see it clearly. The ‘power’ he gave me was only to control me, subtly shaping me, exhausting my potential, draining my life force ahead of time. Now the statue is destroyed, the demon vanished, I’ve lost my source of power and reverted to my true form. The force I borrowed has left me at death’s door. Ha, ha ha! To think, I named myself Kaizong—to found a new lineage, to be the ancestor of a new family.”

“When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back. Benefits gained from nothing always demand a greater price,” Yang Fan mused, his gaze sharpening as he pressed on with the crucial question. “Why were you so determined to seize South Mountain Town?”

“You really want to know?” Liu Kaizong paused, then laughed. “I refuse to tell you. Today, I die. My wives and concubines die. My sons and grandsons die. Everyone who followed me dies. But you too will die, and most of South Mountain Town as well.”

“I have lost the demon’s power, spent my life, exhausted my years, and yet these damned horns and hooves remain!”

“If this is exposed, who else but me should die?”

“Let me die, then!”

“If I cannot found a true lineage, I will bring them all with me!”

“I’ll found my lineage anew in hell!”

“And you, Yang Fan—I’ll go on ahead. On the Road to the Yellow Springs, I’ll be waiting for you. When you arrive, I’ll make you my adopted son, for I truly admire you!”

With that, Liu Kaizong summoned the last of his power and struck his own chest, shattering his heart.

He looked at Yang Fan with a strange expression, then fell, lifeless.

“I will die? Most of South Mountain Town will die? That means there’s someone behind you, and it’s all for the treasure?” Yang Fan felt not the slightest sympathy, only furrowed his brow in deep thought.

But he knew this was no place to linger. Sensing his surroundings, he found many people gathered around the bedroom, trembling, awaiting the outcome.

No powerful foes were present, which brought him some relief.

Whoosh—

Yang Fan leaped up, charging out and landing in the courtyard. He was considering whether to collect the spiritual treasures within the Liu residence when suddenly he sensed an ordinary aura flaring up like a volcano, erupting with force.

It was like a furnace, with blazing yang energy surging in waves—denser even than the demonized Liu Kaizong’s.

He spun around to see, in a shadowy corner behind the assembled servants, a figure had already drawn a sword and was charging at him.

The sword gleamed like a shooting star, crossing dozens of meters in an instant, thrusting for his heart.

“How did I not sense this?”
“Who is this?”
“Why are they attacking me?”

Yang Fan’s pupils contracted, shock flooding his face. Countless thoughts raced through his mind in a split second, but he responded without hesitation, unleashing the full force of his Intimidation.