Record of a Demon's Cultivation Chapter 1527: Self-Inflicted Ruin

Song Wen remained composed, paying little attention to the guards or the stall owner.

His expression unchanged, he walked past the guards and entered the ghost market.

Yet inwardly, he held no hope for this place.

It was clear this ghost market was also under the Lin Clan's control.

And for some unknown reason, the stall owner had betrayed him to the Lin Clan.

Fortunately, he had altered his appearance and aura before arriving, preventing them from recognizing him.

Otherwise, he would have been like a lamb walking into a tiger's den, trapped like a turtle in a jar.

Though the guards at the entrance posed no immediate threat, all the guards in the ghost market were at the Void Refinement stage. It was unlikely there weren't Body Integration Stage cultivators lurking in the shadows.

If trapped in a formation, especially with Tianshan City only ten thousand li away, the Lin Clan's Great Ascension Stage cultivators could arrive at any moment to reinforce their forces. The situation was truly perilous.

To avoid revealing his identity, Song Wen didn't inquire about intelligence shops within the ghost market. In any case, he doubted he would have learned anything even if he had.

To avoid raising suspicion, he browsed casually before finding a shop. After selling a few non-essential spiritual materials, he left the ghost market without incident.

Emerging from the swirling mist, Song Wen soared upward, piercing the darkness as he sped away.

Yet he didn't flee into the distance. After flying thousands of miles, he concealed his aura and descended into the dense forest below. Weaving through the trees, he circled back toward the entrance of the ghost market.

He casually found a mountain cave to hide in, then used his divine sense to keep a constant watch on the market entrance.

As the third-quarter yin hour approached, the person he was waiting for finally appeared.

The stall owner followed closely behind a late-stage void refinement male cultivator as they emerged from the mist.

Song Wen immediately recognized the male cultivator as one of the ghost market's guards, likely its leader.

The stall owner's face was plastered with a fawning smile, his demeanor both respectful and humble.

"Steward Lin Mu, it seems that person is quite cautious. After learning of the ghost market's location, they didn't come here immediately."

The male cultivator, addressed as Lin Mu, glanced back at the stall owner behind him, his eyes showing a hint of approval but failing to conceal the ingrained arrogance in his posture.

"You've done well. This outsider with an unknown identity arrived in Tianshan City and immediately began probing for information. They are likely targeting our Lin Clan. Continue monitoring the night market every night. If you find that person, this steward will reward you handsomely."

"Many thanks, Master Steward."

The stall owner, already slightly hunched over, bowed even lower.

The two didn't linger and were about to part ways when, in that instant, two transparent blades, less than an inch long, slashed through the darkness like the shadows of night owls, streaking straight for their foreheads.

The attack came too suddenly, without the slightest warning.

Even Lin Mu, a Void Refinement Stage cultivator, only realized the danger when the transparent blades were less than a hundred feet away, but it was too late.

His pupils constricted sharply. Before he could react, the blades pierced his forehead.

The stall owner fared even worse.

The ingratiating smile hadn't fully faded from his face, and a flicker of horror had only just appeared in his eyes when he was struck.

Both men froze, their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed to the ground.

Song Wen shot out a strand of spiritual power, levitating the two bodies and rapidly ascending into the air.

After flying over three hundred thousand li, Song Wen casually tossed the two bodies to the ground.

He raised his hand and struck the air twice.

Crack! Crack!

Their faces were mangled, blood gushing from their mouths, but they immediately regained consciousness.

Song Wen had controlled the two God-Slaying Thorns with extreme precision, temporarily clouding their divine souls without causing lasting damage.

Lin Mu instantly sprang to his feet, his eyes darting around before settling on Song Wen.

"You captured us. What is your purpose?" he asked, knowing he was no match for his opponent and choosing not to act rashly.

"Weren't you the ones looking for me? Why are you asking about my intentions now? I should be the one asking: why were you searching for me?"

"Looking for you!" Lin Mu suddenly understood. He turned to the stall owner beside him.

The stall owner had also risen to his feet, but his divine soul seemed more severely injured. He clutched his head with one hand, his face contorted in pain.

"You... could you be the person from this evening?" the stall owner asked, his eyes wide with suspicion and his voice uncertain.

"You're quite clever," Song Wen said with a smile.

Lin Mu's gaze sharpened with vigilance. "So... you really came for the Lin Clan."

"You're Lin Mu, aren't you? Answer a few questions truthfully, and I'll let you go unharmed. What do you say?" Song Wen offered.

"How can we trust you? What if you break your word later? We'd be at your mercy," Lin Mu countered.

"You don't seem to have any other choice but to trust me."

Song Wen's smile remained unchanged, but against the pitch-black night, it took on a sinister gleam.

Lin Mu fell silent for a moment, seemingly weighing the pros and cons.

Song Wen, however, had no patience for waiting.

With a flick of his finger, a bolt of spiritual power shot out.

"Ah—"

The stall owner collapsed, letting out a low groan.

His right leg, struck by the spiritual power, shattered at the knee, revealing mangled flesh and jagged bone fragments.

"Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you everything truthfully," Lin Mu said urgently.

Song Wen's earlier demonstration of killing the chicken to warn the monkeys had made it clear that the man cared nothing for his life, nor for the trouble that might arise from killing a member of the Lin Clan. If he didn't comply, he feared he would be dead in the next breath.

"Good. That was a wise decision," Song Wen said. "Who manages your Lin Clan's Talisman Hall?"

"The Hall Master is Kong Ling. He's an outsider by blood, but he was recruited by the Lin Clan a thousand years ago because of his mastery of talisman crafting," Lin Mu replied.

"And who oversees the Lin Clan's Treasure Vault?" Song Wen asked.

"The steward is Elder Lin Haocang," Lin Mu said.

Song Wen then pressed for details about the relationship between Lin Haocang and Kong Ling, and made Lin Mu use a jade slip to record their appearances, along with those of their close associates.

"You've gotten what you wanted. Now release me," Lin Mu said.

"Release you? So you can go back and report to your superiors?" Song Wen asked with a smile.

"You... you can't break your word!" Lin Mu roared in fury, his voice hoarse with rage.

Spiritual power surged through his body as he prepared for a desperate final stand.

Song Wen flickered forward, instantly closing the distance to Lin Mu. His right hand clamped around Lin Mu's neck like an iron vise.

A chilling wave of corpse qi poured from Song Wen's hand into Lin Mu's body.

The spiritual power coursing through Lin Mu's meridians was instantly scattered, making it impossible to gather again.

Song Wen tightened his grip slightly.

Lin Mu's neck snapped.

Song Wen's hooked fingers dug into the flesh.

In an instant, Lin Mu's body withered visibly, shrinking at an alarming rate.

The stall owner, half-seated on the ground, stared wide-eyed at the scene, his face a mask of terror and disbelief.

"Senior, I beg you, spare my life."

"I only wanted to gather some information. But you insisted on seeking death. Don't blame me."

Crimson flames erupted from Song Wen's hand, reducing the mummified corpse of Lin Mu to ashes. Then he turned toward the stall owner and advanced.