Chapter 173: Revolving Yang Gift
"Father, actually, even if we can leave this place in one piece and offer our souls to the Demon Slaying Hall to prove our innocence, at best, we will suffer a meticulous investigation and lose our position as rulers of the Yanzhou Province. At worst, none of this matters, and we get killed for an 'abundance of precautions.' Neither of these are winning paths. Why not...reject Heaven to embrace the thigh of Hell?"
"In fact, the demon master doesn't even require us to surrender to him. Clearly, he is man of great principle, boundless kindness, and merely wishes to help our growth."
"Brother, I couldn't have said it better. Let's just cultivate." One after another, Yan Zhong's sons made their case—urging their father to capitulate. Younger scions didn't even bother to request permission, and directly dove into the Servant Sutra, getting enlightenment in mnemonics so seductive and profound that their eyes glazed over.
Trapped between the text's irresistible appeal, the Evil Qi Tide's corruptive properties, and their lingering apprehension, the Yan elders floundered. Yan Zhong too was at a loss—but for entirely different reasons. From the inside, Xinzi's Klesha Haze cooperated with the Heart Demon it'd created to take over the Yanzhou Hegemon's mind. The Servant Sutra only made the takeover easier, and as the corruptive atmosphere weighed on him, Yan Zhong surrendered to his Heart Demon.
"Yes...embrace...embrace!" The Yanzhou Hegemon's eyes became a full black. His lips curled up, and he joined his hands in a mudra, meditating on the mnemonics.
"All clansmen of the Yan Spirit clan, obey my order and cultivate the mnemonics. Those that refuse to will be considered traitors and executed to uphold clan laws!" Yan Zhong said, then fell into a trance. His words were the last straw. One after the other, the Yan clansmen joined their hands in mudras—entering meditation. Even the elders saw the wisdom of their patriarch's approach, and with no further hesitation, dedicated themselves to the Servant Sutra. In Xinzi's Klesha Heart, the Master Sutra flashed, almost as if animated by a will of its own, and established a connection to the Servant Sutras.
"Good. Now that this is settled, let's deal with the rest," Xinzi said, and shifted his attention to the trapped Poisonfeather Birds.
"Demon lord, Zhenniao is willing to surrender and bring the Poisonfeather Bird clan to your banner!" Barely had Xinzi towards them that Zhenniao pledged his loyalty, flapping his wings in an awkward mix of eagerness and anxiety.
"Don't let my current body's silky smooth hair deceive you. I am a temple abbot, a monk, not a demon lord. Having said that, Zhenniao, I don't mind adding you to my troops. After all, your Poisonfeather Bird clan might not be a prominent bloodline, but you're still fairly strong. Your mummifying poison, especially, is quite the ferocious toxin—for non-immune species, that is. And you, Zhenniao, have been at the peak of rank-five Beast Kings for centuries, stranded solely because you've not received a God, Devil or Saint's Ordinance." Xinzi's words kindled Zhenniao's hopes. But what followed made the Beast King's beak open wide in shock.
"Used well, you all could become formidable contributors to my infernal plans. I am willing to take you in. I am willing to help you. But first, you must do me a favor and destroy your altar to Wenshen."
"You...know?" Sheer Terror filled Zhenniao's heart. The Sovereign God of Plagues, Wenshen was the Divine Ancestor of the Plague Pantheon, including all related beasts and spirits. The ancestors of Poisonfeather Birds served as Wenshen's mounts, their bloodline urging their descendants to worship the Sovereign God of Plagues. To Zhenniao's knowledge, this was a clan secret known only to Poisonfeather Birds. How could this man know?
"I don't need to. I can feel it. After all, I am closer to Wenshen than you will ever be." On the day that Xinzi was born, Wenshen was among the Sovereign Gods and Primevals that came to offer their congratulations. High Gods waited outside Yongye's Heavenly Palace, and deities below that level didn't even have the qualifications to pay their respect. Xinzi could feel the faith energies gathering in a certain area of the gorge, and thus inferred who that faith was dedicated to. That and yes, he knew already.
"F...fine, FINE! I will destroy it! For thousands of years, my clan has devoted its prayers to Wenshen, yet that deity has never seen fit to grant me the Ordinance I need to become a rank-six beast and carry on with my cultivation! If not because I couldn't find a monk to teach me Lianist Precept, I'd have shifted to the Golden Lotus already! Of what use is a God that will not answer my prayers? Free me, and I will destroy the altar!" Zhenniao pledged.
Destroying a Sovereign God's altar—especially one filled with faith power—was no laughing matter. This sin would generate scourge and Evil Qi. But Zhenniao believed that with Xinzi to rely on, he had nothing to fear.
Satisfied by the bird's performance, Xinzi glanced at Tusha. The Infernal Nun clapped, freeing Zhenniao of his chains. Green light flashed in the Beast King's orange eyes, and in the deepest reaches of the gorge, a statuette at the effigy of a rotund and wrathful-looking Daoist rose from the ground, rushing towards Zhenniao. Lingering traces of vast faith power surrounded the statuette. Only Xinzi could sense that energy, and without even looking at it, Zhenniao smashed his left-wing into the statue—it shattered instantly, triggering a loud screeching cry that pierced through Zhenniao's ears.
The abominable Beast King raised his beak in defiance, and as dark-green fog surged out of the shattered Wenshen idol, Zhenniao cast eager and hopeful eyes at Xinzi. Zhenniao couldn't see it, but Xinzi flashed him a smile. Berserk forces rose alongside the dark-green fog, latching on Zhenniao who knew that, no matter where he ran to, he couldn't escape retribution.
Only Xinzi could save him. Xinzi didn't.
"Beautiful Tusha, I've saved the best for you. As a Sanguine Reincarnation, Blood Energy and Soul Force are the only two resources that you can use to increase your cultivation. I don't have the latter, but, we just so happen to have an unrivaled source of Blood Energy right here." Ignoring Zhenniao, Xinzi turned to Tusha, motioning towards the Red-Tongued Devil.
"You don't mean..." Tusha too ignored Zhenniao, her jaw falling as she failed to process Xinzi's words.
"Of course I do. Yes, it is a prime cultivation resource that I could make great use of, and without it, the corpse will lose a good chunk of its battle-prowess, but the Red-Tongued Devil's heart is yours. Refine it, and let your cultivation base erupt," as he spoke, Xinzi grabbed the reluctant Tusha's shoulders, gently pushing her towards the Red-Tongued Devil's corpse.
"Demon Lord! Why are you ignoring me?! Demon Lord, help!" The dark-green fog infested Zhenniao's body, and he panicked at last. His anti-poison abilities were of absolutely no use. His bloodline turned against him, and as scourge and Evil Qi surged from within the Beast King, his cultivation base faced imminent threats.
"Oh yes. Apologies," Xinzi said and aimed one hand at Zhenniao. The Swallowing Skill kicked in, ripping the Beast King's rank-five Revolving Yang Core from his chest.
"Huh?"
"Thank you for creating a new source of potent energy for me. I don't know to which one of my girls I will give your monster core, but I can guarantee that they will make good use of it. Your clan has more than enough birds for me to recreate another Zhenniao, and I don't like you. Your existence is therefore...worthless. That being the case, you can die in grief."
"AAAAAAAAARGH!" At first, it was stupor, then mournful cries upon mournful cries before Zhenniao....burst into a feast of blood and gore.