Eternal Sacred King Chapter 3 - Supreme Demon Classic
Previously on Eternal Sacred King...
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Only after Zhou Dingyun’s silhouette had vanished did Su Zimo finally release a heavy breath, his complexion appearing sickly pale.
Though their confrontation was fleeting, it had been fraught with peril. Fortunately, everything had transpired exactly as he had anticipated.
During his earlier talk with Shen Mengqi, Su Zimo had picked up a vital detail: she and Zhou Dingyun were scheduled to depart Ping Yang Town with Perfected Cang Lang the following day.
Su Zimo guessed that Zhou Dingyun would undoubtedly hunt for vengeance this very night!
He had considered turning to the Su family for protection. However, doing so would achieve nothing except dragging the Su family into his mess without altering the final result.
The reality was that Zhou Dingyun was currently untouchable.
He was no longer a mere street thug; he was on the verge of entering an immortal Sect. Should he be killed, Perfected Cang Lang would surely investigate. If that happened, who could possibly withstand him?
Su Zimo had never taken a life before. Yet, when his blade pressed against Zhou Dingyun’s neck, he felt neither hesitation nor dread. On the contrary, he felt a surge of adrenaline and a strange eagerness to act.
He didn't care about the consequences of tomorrow. Even if the heavens crumbled or the earth split open, slaying that tyrant would have purged his bottled-up resentment. It would have been truly satisfying!
Su Zimo’s killing intent and cold aura had been genuine. He wasn't faking it; he had nearly lost his restraint and plunged the knife home!
For the first time, Su Zimo realized that the blood in his veins wasn't that of a refined scholar. Instead, it was the blood of a battlefield general accustomed to slaughter, or perhaps a savage who lived by the law of retaliation.
He might have once held scholarly prestige, but such honors could not halt the wicked. Ultimately, it was his keen blade that drove them away.
“Years of diligent study are worth less than a sharp edge.”
Su Zimo chuckled at himself with a hint of self-mockery. “A scholar is truly helpless. This is the limit of what he can do.”
Returning to his quarters, Su Zimo tossed the knife aside and collapsed onto his bed, though sleep eluded him.
One particular thought plagued his mind.
Knowing Zhou Dingyun's character, the man would surely return to Ping Yang Town once he had mastered Cultivation to settle the score for tonight’s humiliation!
That would be his day of reckoning.
It might happen in a month, a year, or even a decade.
Regardless of the time, Zhou Dingyun would certainly come back!
Su Zimo understood this clearly, yet he had been forced to endure the man's malice today.
If he had slain Zhou Dingyun, his own death would have been guaranteed tomorrow. By sparing him, he at least preserved a sliver of hope.
That hope relied on him gaining the power to defend himself before Zhou Dingyun finished his training and returned.
But was such a thing even possible?
What exactly was a spirit root?
Why was he born without one?
Why was Cultivation impossible for those lacking a spirit root?
Why...
Su Zimo’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion. He felt a mix of fascination regarding the immortal Sects and dread regarding his future.
Eventually, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted into a slumber.
Su Zimo entered a peculiar dream.
In this dream, an immortal whispered into his ear, “Do you wish to cultivate?”
Yes, Su Zimo desperately wanted to.
He had never craved strength as intensely as he did now.
Then, Su Zimo sensed something was amiss.
He suddenly jerked awake and sat upright. His eyes were filled with doubt, and his back was soaked in a cold sweat.
He finally grasped what was wrong.
It hadn't been a dream!
Someone had actually been asking him if he wanted to pursue Cultivation.
Su Zimo climbed out of bed and swung the door open, encountering a sight he would remember for the rest of his days.
Standing beside the peach blossom tree in the garden was a woman of ethereal beauty. She wore a robe as red as blood. Her eyes sparkled as she watched him in silence.
The clouds had parted, leaving the moonlight as clear as a stream. Peach petals drifted through the air around her. Surrounded by the evening mist and falling blossoms, she looked like a being from beyond the mortal realm.
“Do you wish to cultivate?”
Die Yue repeated her question. Her voice was melodic and soothing, carrying a hint of laziness.
Su Zimo inhaled deeply, slowly regaining his composure. Though he had a thousand questions, he managed only a single word: “Yes.”
“Then I shall teach you,” Die Yue answered casually, as if mentoring Su Zimo was a task as mundane as eating or dressing.
Su Zimo stepped down the stone stairs and halted before Die Yue, peering into her deep, limpid eyes.
Die Yue returned his gaze.
After a moment, Su Zimo realized that the woman before him was an enigma. He couldn't fathom her at all.
Conversely, he felt as though Die Yue could see right through him, leaving him with no secrets to hide.
A sudden thought crossed his mind: Die Yue knew exactly what had happened to him tonight.
She was aware of everything he was thinking!
“I do not possess a spirit root,” Su Zimo eventually confessed.
“There exists a Cultivation technique that requires no spirit root.”
“What kind of technique is it?” Su Zimo asked instinctively.
“The Cultivation technique of the demon clan!” Die Yue’s eyes widened, and a profound aura radiated from her.
Su Zimo’s expression shifted, and he couldn't help but stumble back half a step.
Even with his limited knowledge, he knew that humans and demons walked different paths. Legends were filled with tales of malevolent demons preyed upon humanity.
Did he really want to practice demonic arts and become a bloodthirsty monster?
It didn't take long for Su Zimo to reach a decision.
“I will learn.”
Su Zimo wasn't sure what he would become, but he knew that if he let this chance slip, he would surely die when Zhou Dingyun returned. The future didn't matter if he didn't survive the present.
Die Yue showed no surprise; she seemed to have expected his answer. She continued, “If you wish to learn the demon clan’s way, you must agree to two terms. First, never ask about my origin or identity; I will instruct, and you will study. Second, you must never reveal this Cultivation technique to anyone else.”
“Understood,” Su Zimo nodded.
Die Yue added, “Furthermore, following this path will expose you to unimaginable risks. You could lose your life at any moment. Do not count on me to rescue you.”
Su Zimo gave a faint smile. “Life and death are determined by fate.”
“If you have questions, ask them now.” Die Yue smiled softly.
This was the first time in two years Su Zimo had seen her smile. He was momentarily captivated by her beauty, nearly losing himself in it.
However, he quickly cleared his head and asked in a low tone, “What is a spirit root? What is Cultivation? Why did Perfected Cang Lang insist I cannot cultivate without a spirit root?”
“Cultivation can also be called the pursuit of the Dao. There are three ancient major paths for humans: Immortal, Buddha, and Fiend. The term 'spirit root' is used by the immortal Sects. In Buddhism, it is called the root of wisdom, while the fiend Sects call it the fiend seed. They are essentially the same thing. Without a spirit root, a human cannot enter any of those Sects.”
Su Zimo followed her explanation. Die Yue was saying that demon Cultivation functioned differently.
Die Yue went on, “Humans possess five senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. The spirit root is basically a sixth sense. It is the vital key needed to perceive the Qi between Heaven and Earth.”
Everything suddenly clicked for Su Zimo.
Without that spirit root, one couldn't "see" the Qi of the world and therefore couldn't cultivate.
Su Zimo then asked, “Are there different levels of power? Which rank does Perfected Cang Lang hold?”
“The immortal Sects are categorized into Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul... He is a Golden Core cultivator. Whether it is demon, immortal, fiend, or Buddha Cultivation, there are various realms. They are simply different roads leading to the same destination. However, the Golden Core stage is a massive hurdle for everyone. Many cultivate, but half are stopped by the Golden Core barrier, never to succeed.”
“Cultivation is an act of defying the natural order to seize the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Reaching the Golden Core stage means shattering the chains of the world for the first time. One's life expectancy can grow to five hundred years. As the saying goes: once the elixir is swallowed, one's fate is no longer governed by nature!”
Die Yue continued, “The technique you will learn consists of nine parts. The first is Body Tempering, the second is Tendons Transformation, the third is Bones Strengthening, the fourth is Marrow Cleansing, the fifth is Organs Refinement, the sixth is Orifice Clearing, and the seventh is Core Formation. If you seek vengeance, you must at least reach the seventh section.”
“What is the title of this technique?” Su Zimo inquired.
“The Mystic Classic of the Twelve Demon Kings of the Great Wilderness.”
Su Zimo was stunned. Just hearing the name made him feel a terrifying, suffocating pressure washing over him.
“Body Tempering, the opening section of The Mystic Classic of the Twelve Demon Kings of the Great Wilderness, is split into two phases: refining the skin and the flesh. There are specific breathing patterns and physical movements that go with it.”
A demonic light flickered in Die Yue’s eyes. Suddenly, several complex and ancient incantations appeared in Su Zimo’s mind.
There were no mystical mountains, sacred waters, or jade palaces. Su Zimo’s journey into Cultivation began right there in that humble courtyard, beneath the blooming peach tree!
It seemed accidental and random, yet it also felt like destiny.
Before long, under Die Yue’s supervision, Su Zimo’s breathing began to change.
It was nothing like the way a normal human breathed.
After many corrections and endless repetitions, Su Zimo finally began to grasp the rhythm.
As he practiced this breathing method, his internal temperature rose. His blood and flesh felt as though they were boiling, transforming into a massive amount of energy that surged toward the surface of his skin.
Su Zimo felt a strange itching sensation all over his body.
“This skin-tempering breath comes from the Wild Bovine Demon King. You can practice it while moving, sitting, or even sleeping. It requires no specific pose. The bovine is incredibly durable and possesses hide so tough that blades cannot pierce it. You must learn to feel its essence.”
Seeing that Su Zimo’s breathing was finally correct, Die Yue retreated to her room, leaving him to his practice.
Su Zimo was completely absorbed in the rhythmic breathing. He could feel his skin becoming denser and more resilient with every cycle.
The night passed.
Su Zimo lost all track of time and surroundings. His entire focus was on the incantations and his breath.
As the first light of dawn touched the sky, Su Zimo was shocked to feel something hard and powerful seemingly protruding from his head toward the heavens! There were two of them!
In that moment, Su Zimo felt as if he had transformed into a peerless bovine demon, inhaling and exhaling the very essence of the world!
“Mmm?”
Die Yue, who was meditating inside, was startled. Her vision seemed to pierce the walls to look at Su Zimo.
“He grasped the core essence so quickly? I see... he truly is a natural talent for demon Cultivation. My effort in giving him this chance wasn't wasted.” A look of approval appeared in her eyes. Without a sound, she suddenly appeared in the courtyard before him.
Bang!
Su Zimo, still deep in his trance, was suddenly struck by a force. He was sent flying a short distance, breaking his concentration and stopping his exercise.
He scrambled up, feeling lightheaded. He looked around and saw Die Yue standing nearby.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Die Yue asked, her earlier approval replaced by a cold tone.
“What?” Su Zimo was confused.
Die Yue flicked her sleeve, and a shimmering mirror of water materialized in front of Su Zimo.
Su Zimo stared in shock. This was beyond anything he had ever seen.
But when he saw his reflection, his amazement turned to horror!
“How is this possible?”
Su Zimo had always been lean, but the man in the mirror was skeletal. He looked completely wasted away.
If not for his familiar features, he wouldn't have believed the reflection was his own.
“No matter the method, power does not come from nothing. Human cultivators draw Qi from the world, while powerful demons use the essence of the sun and moon to temper themselves. You haven't reached that level yet. Therefore, every breath you took consumed the essence of your own blood and flesh. If you continued, you would have died within three days.”
“What should I do?” Su Zimo asked, panicked.
“You must consume massive amounts of meat and blood to replenish your energy before you continue.”
At the mention of food, Su Zimo’s stomach roared. A ravenous hunger hit him, nearly driving him mad.
He sprinted to the kitchen with incredible speed. In minutes, he devoured everything edible he could find, only stopping when the hunger finally began to fade.
Only then did he realize he hadn't slept all night. Instead of feeling exhausted, he felt brimming with vitality and strength.
Su Zimo grabbed a thin iron basin and gave it a squeeze.
To his amazement, his fingerprints were clearly pressed into the metal!
“Hiss! That much power?”
Su Zimo was stunned by his own transformation.
A single night of Cultivation had changed him profoundly. He now felt a deep confidence about the days ahead.
“I believe that even if Zhou Dingyun returns from his Sect, I will have the strength to face him.”
At this moment, Su Zimo still didn't realize the true terror of The Mystic Classic of the Twelve Demon Kings of the Great Wilderness. This technique was a supreme demonic scripture that could disrupt the balance of Yin and Yang, seize the Qi of the world, and alter the very fabric of the universe. It was something that did not belong to this world.