From a Martial Arts Sect to an Immortal Cultivation Sect Chapter 71
“What? The Demonic Cult has that kind of power?”
Zhang Yuchun widened his eyes and lowered his voice to ask.
The state prefecture was the greatest seat of authority within an entire province.
In chaotic times, it would be the royal city of a regional lord.
Each state’s prefecture under the Great Li Dynasty possessed immense authority—they could even conscript troops, so long as they reported it to the court.
This rule had been left by the Imperial Ancestor, for the Great Li’s territory was vast, and the Emperor could not possibly exert total control over every province.
For a martial sect to besiege and conquer a state prefecture was simply absurd.
Within the prefecture were one hundred thousand elite troops—an impossible obstacle.
Liu Fanzhou said helplessly, “I’m confused too. I heard the prefecture army’s rebellion was due to being bewitched by a heretic. There’s a Daoist in the Demonic Cult who played a key role in it. The exact details—I’m still waiting for word.”
A heretic Daoist!
Zhang Yuchun frowned.
Ever since following Li Qingqiu on the path of cultivation, he had grown to believe more and more in matters of spirits and ghosts.
He feared no martial experts, but these mysterious, unpredictable Daoists and sorcerers—those, he dreaded.
“Brother Liu, you still have connections in the state prefecture?” Li Qingqiu asked curiously.
The prefecture was already sealed off by the Demonic Cult, and yet Liu Fanzhou could still await news from within—this merchant was anything but simple.
Liu Fanzhou wiped his sweat once more and said, “I’ve traded across the Guzhou region for many years; naturally, I have some connections. Among the officials of the orthodox paths in the prefecture, quite a few are my sworn brothers.”
At the word brothers, Zhang Yuchun couldn’t help the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Li Qingqiu said, “As for the prefecture’s matter, the imperial court must already have its own plans. Let’s observe for now. This kind of worldly upheaval isn’t something we few can interfere in. Brother Liu, you should go see your daughter.”
Liu Fanzhou nodded. Li Qingqiu turned to leave.
The moment his back faced Liu Fanzhou, Li Qingqiu’s expression turned cold.
This matter might seem unrelated to the Clear Sky Sect, yet in Li Qingqiu’s eyes, the Demonic Cult was clearly setting a trap to draw them in.
The Demonic Cult’s Protectors and the Seven Fiends had all died within the Clear Sky Sect—those men had been major figures.
The hatred between the two sides could no longer be resolved.
The Demonic Cult might have attacked the prefecture to aid the Emperor, but once they gathered their strength, they would never spare the Clear Sky Sect.
Li Qingqiu had developed the Clear Sky Sect without ever provoking others—yet trouble always came knocking.
He was in no hurry to act.
He wanted first to see what information Liu Fanzhou could obtain—and how the imperial court intended to stage this drama.
……
Within the Guzhou State Prefecture’s military encampment.
A tall platform stood upon a barren field. Before it, rows of bound soldiers knelt, hands and feet tied.
Around them, masked experts of the Demonic Cult—each wearing a ferocious ghost-faced mask—kept vigilant guard. The soldiers all stared in terror at the figure standing upon the high platform.
Upon that platform stood a lone man. He wore a bamboo hat, white hair streaming, his face too hidden beneath an evil ghost mask.
Dressed in a deep violet robe, a sword at his waist, the wind and sand whipped violently around him—but his stance remained as steady as Mount Tai.
Hands clasped behind his back, he looked down upon the hundreds of soldiers below—his eyes, behind the mask, as cold as death itself.
The setting sun hung on the horizon. Dusk neared, and the shadows of those soldiers stretched long.
From the distance, a Demonic Cult warrior came rushing forward, his lightfoot technique covering several zhang with each step.
He landed upon the platform, bowed with cupped fists, and reported, “Sect Master, Daoist Wei claims that the pursuit of immortality has drained his spirit. He’s too fatigued, and he won’t be participating tonight.”
The white-haired man upon the platform—the very Master of the Demonic Cult, known throughout the martial world as the Demon Emperor—did not change expression. His eyes beneath the mask remained cold as ice as he rasped, “This seat understands.”
His voice was hoarse, ageless.
The subordinate immediately withdrew.
The Demon Emperor raised his right hand.
In an instant, all the Demonic Cult experts surrounding the bound soldiers unsheathed their blades.
The ringing of hundreds of weapons drawn at once sent chills down the spine.
The soldiers below panicked—some wept and begged, others roared curses.
“Spare me! I was wrong! I won’t run anymore—I swear I won’t!”
“Demon Emperor, you’ll die a terrible death! The court will never forgive you!”
“You’ve slaughtered so many—aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?”
“I’ll wait for you in the Yellow Springs! I’ll curse you forever, never to know peace!”
“The Demonic Cult will only meet a worse end than us!”
As the shouts and pleas rose, the Demon Emperor lowered his hand. The Demonic Cult warriors moved instantly—massacre began.
The sounds of blades slicing flesh and scraping bone echoed again and again, while the Demon Emperor watched coldly, unmoved.
When the last soldier fell into the sea of blood, the Demonic Cult experts began to clean the corpses. A gaunt cultist approached the platform, waiting silently.
“Spread the word,” the Demon Emperor ordered. “The Demonic Cult invites every martial sect of Guzhou to gather and discuss the grand destiny of the world. Any sect—large or small—that fails to arrive within two months shall face the combined hunt of the Demonic Cult and the state army.”
Upon hearing the command, the cultist immediately departed.
The Demon Emperor glanced over the corpses below, a look of disgust flashing in his eyes. Then he raised his head toward the dusky heavens and murmured, “It seems the Heavens do not exist after all.”
……
Seven days after Liu Fanzhou’s return to the mountain, the news of the prefecture’s fall spread completely.
The people of Guzhou were panic-stricken, and the martial world was shaken to its core.
The threat of the Demonic Cult hung like a blade over every sect’s head.
The disciples of the Clear Sky Sect, too, were stunned by the Demonic Cult’s brutality.
They questioned their masters, but all were told the same—maintain order and await command.
This was a calamity that would engulf all of Guzhou’s martial world. Some were enraged, some terrified, and some simply fled, hoping to escape Guzhou entirely.
No disciple of the Clear Sky Sect fled, though private murmurs spread.
Zhang Yuchun sent disciples down the mountain to gather intelligence.
Liu Fanzhou’s reports continued to arrive—confirming the Demonic Cult’s threat and its summons to all sects.
The entire martial world of Guzhou was cast into a shadow.
Days passed.
Though the Demonic Cult had not yet invaded Clear Sky Mountain, everyone felt the oppressive tension—no one lingered about idly anymore.
Inside a guest courtyard.
Su Xiling entered, approaching Zhu Yan, who was playing the zither. She gritted her teeth and said, “All the rumors are true. Every day, heaps of corpses are dumped outside the city—the bones form mountains. The Demonic Cult’s beasts are unimaginably cruel. I suspect they’re not human at all—but monsters wearing human skin.”
Zhu Yan’s hands stopped. She looked up and asked, “And the imperial court? Still no word?”
“None. It’s as though Guzhou has been abandoned…”
Su Xiling’s face was grave. In all her years, she had never seen such a human tragedy. What chilled her most was the utter absence of imperial troops to destroy the Demonic Cult.
Fear blanketed the land—even children were being locked indoors.
Zhu Yan’s eyes turned cold, her tone strange and distant. “The greatest power beneath Heaven is the throne. When Heaven abandons the people, the people shall never again know peace.”
Su Xiling asked, “My lady, should we leave? Guzhou is no longer a pure land. Even if this calamity passes, it will take years to recover.”
Zhu Yan shook her head lightly. “No. Let’s stay on this mountain and watch the world fall to ruin.”
Su Xiling fell silent. Her heart was heavy—just thinking of the stories from below filled her with rage.
In another courtyard, Zhao Linglong relayed what she had heard to Li Yang.
After the setbacks he had faced, Li Yang was no longer impulsive. Hearing of the chaos below, he simply stayed silent.
“My family wrote,” Zhao Linglong said softly, “they urge you not to interfere in this matter.”
The Li Family of Linchuan had influence throughout the realm.
They had eyes and ears in every county of Guzhou—it was easy for them to send word.
Li Yang did not reply. His eyes only rested upon the spear in his hands. He murmured, “Who am I fighting for, in the end?”
Zhao Linglong sighed and rose to leave.
Each day now brought new reports from below, and she too worried about Guzhou’s prefectural situation.
Days passed again—until noon of one particular day.
Inside Lingxiao Courtyard, Li Qingqiu and his junior brothers and sisters sat around a table, waiting for their meal while exchanging cultivation insights.
Qin Ye hurried into the courtyard and went straight to the long table. Looking at Li Qingqiu, he said, “Master, news from below—The Heavenly Blade Sect gathered all its disciples and launched an attack on the prefecture. After half a day of battle, they were annihilated.”
At this, everyone was stunned.
The Heavenly Blade Sect’s former master had once poisoned Jiang Zhaoxia and Li Sifeng, earning the Clear Sky Sect’s hatred.
Later, Jiang Zhaoxia had gone to avenge himself, forcing a change in leadership.
Because of that history, they had long looked down on the Heavenly Blade Sect.
Who would have thought that now, it would be the first sect to stand against the Demonic Cult?
Perhaps, being rooted in the mundane world, the Heavenly Blade Sect cared more for the common people than those secluded upon the mountains.
“Mm, sit down and tell us more,” Li Qingqiu said calmly, his face unreadable.
Everyone began to question Qin Ye further.
He recounted what he had heard from below—only tales of the Demonic Cult’s atrocities and the horror around the prefecture’s walls.
Corpses everywhere, bones forming forests.
Each day, more bodies of commoners were dumped outside the city.
They said the prefecture was shrouded in a ghostly gloom, as if cursed by endless resentment.
“How long has it been, and the court still hasn’t sent troops? Is this truly the doing of that Dog Emperor?” Li Sifeng snarled. He had never seen himself as righteous, but hearing of such things filled him with fury nonetheless.
No one could answer him—they could only curse alongside him. Yet here, cursing the Emperor or the Demonic Cult meant nothing.
Li Qingqiu said nothing. When the meal was served, he ate in silence.
The Heavenly Blade Sect’s sacrifice quickly spread through the Clear Sky Sect. Most disciples were still young—hot-blooded—and they all admired the sect’s act of valor.
Some even wanted to descend the mountain to fight. Increasingly, they went to Zhang Yuchun, asking for the Sect Master’s decision. All were persuaded to wait.
Even the impulsive and chivalrous Yang Jueding, for once, did not confront Li Qingqiu. He merely trained alone in the forest.
Five days later—
The Thief King, Cheng Canghai, returned to the Clear Sky Sect.
He met privately with Li Qingqiu, and after their talk that very day, the mountain bell tolled.
This bell system, modeled after that of the Seven Peaks Alliance, stretched from the summit to the foot of the mountain with twelve bells in total.
In times of crisis, the tolls would echo upward from the base to the peak. But this time, the toll came from the peak—and every disciple knew what that meant.
An assembly in the Profound Heart Hall!
All disciples across Clear Sky Mountain rushed toward the hall.
Those who arrived early whispered among themselves—they all knew the discussion would be about the prefecture, and they were eager to hear the Sect Master’s stance.
“Never in any dynasty has such horror been seen—what prosperity? This is worse than chaos itself!”
“I heard the Demonic Cult has started abducting children from other towns! How many of them are there—to both guard the prefecture and raid other places? Were they not wiped out by the court before?”
“If you ask me, the Demonic Cult must be the Emperor’s lapdogs! Why else has no army been sent?”
“Don’t speak recklessly. The Great Li realm is vast—reinforcements may be delayed. The prefecture’s fall was too swift; there must’ve been traitors within, working with the cult.”
“Then why hasn’t the neighboring province sent troops either?”
The discussion grew heated.
Many disciples had families below, and fear for them made emotions boil.
Half an hour later, Li Qingqiu, Zhang Yuchun, Jiang Zhaoxia, and the others entered the hall. The disciples quickly lined up, all eyes on them.
The grand hall fell silent, the only sound being the footsteps of Li Qingqiu and the elders.
Li Qingqiu ascended the steps while the elders stood below, facing the crowd of over three hundred disciples.
Standing above, Li Qingqiu swept his gaze across them, expressionless. Then, he spoke slowly—
“No more retreat. No more endurance. The entire sect descends the mountain—acting for the will of Heaven.”
Boom!
The blood of every disciple ignited at once.
Li Qingqiu had spoken no florid speech, yet those sixteen words alone set all their hearts ablaze.