Chapter 104: Achieving Demonic Sorcery

The moment Chu Youcai finished speaking, countless stars suddenly flashed in the sky above. The entire firmament seemed to boil, and then a beam of starlight descended from the heavens, landing directly upon his head.

The dim underworld was instantly illuminated with brilliant radiance.

At that moment, Chu Youcai felt the energy within him rising like a surging tide. Countless waves of mental power pulsed in his mind, and a dragon-serpent spirit slithered through his meridians, rendering his thoughts exceptionally clear. This power was tangibly real; Chu Youcai felt he could manifest it into the form of a dragon-serpent to coil around him, granting him an invincible sense of defense and offense.

"So, this is the demonic art I have yearned for!"

He realized that once this demonic power permeated his entire body, it would be several times stronger than his own physical form. It even granted him the ability to levitate. With this demonic art, he finally possessed the foundation to stand firmly in this world.

Because of this newfound power, his lifespan instantly increased from eight years to thirteen. This sudden gain of five years of vital energy filled him with irrepressible joy. He became desperately eager to test the limits of his current strength.

In the distance, Feng Xiangru sighed, "Do you not see? The waters of the Yellow River descend from the sky, rushing to the sea, never to return. How magnificent!"

"When life is at its peak, one should indulge in joy, never letting the golden goblet face the moon in vain. Heaven has given me talents that must have their purpose; when a thousand gold coins are spent, they will return. What a carefree and spirited outlook! Who does not believe that their natural talents are meant for a purpose? Who does not yearn for such heroic spirit, trusting that what is spent will surely be regained?"

This was the deeper, more profound meaning of "Heaven’s creation of talent," expressed with such unrestrained poetic fervor!

Hongyu smiled. Back at Guiyuan Temple, when Chu Youcai was suppressed by Chu Yuwei and nearly unable to protect the remains of the Willow Deity, she had been filled with immense agony. The difference now was that Chu Youcai had finally mastered the Daoist arts. How difficult were these arts? Hongyu knew that despite her long cultivation, she had never made a breakthrough, and Miss Wen Ji could not master the demonic arts either. It was a relief that her dear Brother Chu had finally succeeded.

The Judge stood stunned, his eyes filled with bewilderment. He recited Chu Youcai’s verses over and over, trying to find a flaw to refute, but he realized he could not. The poetry was refined to the limit; how could he possibly challenge it? He realized that Chu Youcai was not lacking in talent, but merely obscure in fame. Regret washed over him. He could not fathom why someone with such poetic genius would choose to cultivate demonic arts instead of literary spirit. Why?

He looked toward the sky, murmuring, "How can this be? A mere human, how could he resonate with the stars of heaven and earth? How could a human possess such demonic power? Even King Zhuanlun, when he first became a demon, did not cause such a stir!" The more he thought, the more frustrated he became, his expression twisting into one of malice.

Meanwhile, King Zhuanlun smiled slightly. A possessor of such demonic arts, provided he did not perish early, would soon reach the fifty-year bottleneck, and within the same realm, he would be far more powerful than those with ordinary arts. How far would this human grow in the future?

At that moment, Chu Youcai felt an indescribable sense of ease in both body and mind. When he noticed the Judge’s cold, murderous gaze, he did not flinch. Even though his opponent had twenty years of demonic power, Chu Youcai felt the courage to face him in battle, even without using the Tuo-Dragon Mountain-River Pearl.

At that moment, the starlight above him blazed brighter. In response, a candle flame ignited within his body, resonating with the stars in the sky. Everyone was stunned, for the star shining above Chu Youcai’s head was none other than Ziwei—the North Star.

Ziwei is known as the Master of Numerology, governed by the element of Earth, and in charge of official rank and authority. Since ancient times, many have regarded the Ziwei star as the Emperor Star; one whose life palace is governed by it possesses the aura of a monarch. Such a person is rarely seen in the mortal world; their birth heralds the prosperity of humanity and the decline of the netherworld.

The Judge flew into a rage, his voice dark and sinister. "The Ziwei star will weaken the netherworld! How can I allow someone like you to exist? Today, I must kill you to rid the netherworld of this scourge!"

The Judge unleashed his cursed treasure, the Judge’s Robe. Using his demonic art, he transformed into a demonic dragon, howling as he lunged. The robe bled forth countless streams of gore, staining the earth crimson. Within its sleeves lay the power of "Heaven and Earth in a Sleeve," intending to suck Chu Youcai completely into the garment.

Chu Youcai’s eyes flashed. His hand was already clenched around the Fish-Scale Blade tucked in his robes. Seeing the Judge charge, he prepared to draw it. But suddenly, a blast of energy, faster and more powerful, descended from the sky and slammed into the Judge.

The Judge, along with his cursed treasure, was hammered deep into the earth, several feet down. The force of this strike came from King Zhuanlun. It was so powerful that the Judge’s twenty years of demonic cultivation and his cursed treasure were easily suppressed. The Judge felt his meridians shatter. He coughed up blood, realizing all his demonic power had been stripped away.

His face turned the color of ash. In a state of despair, he muttered to himself, "Now that my demonic power is gone, what do I have left to live for?" He abruptly shattered his own primordial spirit, forcing the Judge’s Robe to unleash its full power. In his madness, he sought to self-detonate the cursed treasure and collapse the entire thirteenth level of hell.

King Zhuanlun let out a cold snort. "Seeking your own death!" With a wave of his hand, a massive golden wheel roared through the air—another cursed treasure—and with a single rotation, it shredded the Judge’s Robe into pieces.

The Judge, having exhausted his primordial spirit, died in agony. Even in his final moment, he stared viciously at Chu Youcai, as if unable to close his eyes in death.

Watching this, a sense of vigilance arose in Chu Youcai’s heart. The Judge had been far stronger than him; although he now possessed demonic arts, his strength was still too shallow. He needed to raise his cultivation level to ten or twenty years as quickly as possible. A sense of urgency gripped him. Time waits for no one!

At the same time, Chu Youcai noticed that as the Judge died, a wisp of mist drifted from his body and entered his own. It increased his vital energy by another inch, bringing his total to fourteen. Chu Youcai was pleasantly surprised; the death of the Judge had granted him an unexpected gain.

After killing the Judge, King Zhuanlun looked at Chu Youcai and said indifferently, "While the Judge brought this upon himself, his words held some truth. You are not of our realm, yet as a human, you possess a superior demonic art—a sight I have never seen before. Your path ahead will be exceptionally arduous."

Chu Youcai bowed respectfully. "I humbly accept your guidance."

King Zhuanlun continued, "However, I see that while your demonic art is superior, it is incomplete. You can cultivate it to at most fifty years before hitting a bottleneck. Govern yourself accordingly." With that, he vanished in a flash.

Chu Youcai’s heart trembled. He remembered that when the Willow Deity taught him this art, she had mentioned it was incomplete after fifty years. King Zhuanlun had seen it at a glance. Yet, he immediately steeled his resolve. Mastering this art was already a great leap; fifty years of power was a distant ambition. His immediate priority was to return to the mortal realm and save Shangguan Wanru.

Just as he turned to leave the thirteenth level of hell, countless flaming red lotus flowers suddenly ignited all around him. The world dimmed, as if surrounded by a vast, dead sea. Upon the sea of death lay countless corpses, and in the distance, many flickering soul-lanterns rose and fell.

What was this?