Chapter 819: Inner Demon

Chapter 819: Inner Demon

Without Bōxún, the others might truly not even be able to defeat the two swords. Watching his subordinates turn into corpses in an instant, Xuěxiāo left without a word, and the illusion beast disguised as Sīsī vanished just as quickly.

Zhào Chánghé gazed thoughtfully at the pattern of the illusion beast’s disappearance but made no move to pursue.

Cuī Yuányāng sidled up to him: “Brother Zhào, are you really just letting them go? Wouldn’t it be better to pretend you’re about to kill them, so Bōxún would come to save them? That way we could lure him out…”

“Not necessarily. The cold-heartedness of ancient demon gods is beyond our understanding.”

“You’re insulting Piāomiǎo too—she’s also an ancient demon god.”

Zhào Chánghé turned his head: “She’s not exactly warm-hearted either.”

Cuī Yuányāng giggled: “Brother Zhào, how do you know if you’ve never felt Piāomiǎo’s warmth?”

Zhào Chánghé: “?”

What use is that kind of warmth? If you look at the flesh, it’s all pink everywhere—cut it open and it’s still black inside.

Piāomiǎo rebelled in his consciousness: “Cuī Yuányāng! Say one more word and I’ll shove you back in!”

Before she finished, Cuī Yuányāng’s eyes suddenly grew hazy, and she leaned against Zhào Chánghé: “Brother Zhào, I’m hot…”

Speechless, Zhào Chánghé caught her in his arms. It seemed Cuī Yuányāng couldn’t stay in this environment—after just a few words, the demonic illusions had already begun to confuse her.

“Back you go.” Piāomiǎo seized the chance to take over the body again, as if it were only natural. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t let that little vixen out—she’d given her the opportunity, but if she was too weak, whose fault was it?

But the moment she took over, she regretted it. Once again, she was firmly held in Zhào Chánghé’s arms, her body growing hot and weak. Piāomiǎo briefly wondered: had Cuī Yuányāng really been unable to withstand the demonic illusions here, or had she done it on purpose?

Embarrassed, she struggled out of Zhào Chánghé’s embrace and tried to get back to the main topic: “Killing Xuěxiāo and the others will weaken Bōxún’s forces, won’t it? Do you think he wouldn’t even try to save them?”

Zhào Chánghé looked at her flushed face, his feelings growing stranger.

If they kept getting this close, where would their relationship end up?

He could only clear his throat and force himself to respond to Piāomiǎo’s question: “Look, Ànmiè was absorbed by Xuěxiāo, Yīnkuí died by my hand, Huāngyāng was killed by you… by Piāomiǎo in an instant. All three were direct subordinates of Yè Jiǔyōu, and she didn’t even sigh—she still cooperates with us. Bōxún’s coldness is even more extreme than Yè Jiǔyōu’s. In their eyes, these so-called subordinates are just replaceable blades; if they die, they’re only called useless.”

Piāomiǎo said: “Is that how you see Jiǔyōu? She’ll be angry again when she finds out.”

“It seems to be the truth,” Zhào Chánghé sighed. “Though the more I interact with Yè Jiǔyōu, the more I realize she’s nothing like I imagined, I don’t think I’m wrong about this.”

Piāomiǎo also felt that Yè Jiǔyōu wasn’t as bad as the ancient impressions suggested… Anyway, Yīnkuí and Huāngyāng deserved to die, and it was better that Yè Jiǔyōu didn’t care. Given their current relationship, it wouldn’t be good to have a major grudge…

“So what does that have to do with you not killing Xuěxiāo? Are you really that careless?”

“Yeah, I just wanted more training… The ones before were too disappointing.”

As Zhào Chánghé spoke, he secretly transmitted his thoughts: “Actually, I don’t want to kill him. I need to find out Hán Wúbìng’s whereabouts from him. Wúbìng has been missing for too long—there’s been no news on the Chaos Rankings. That shouldn’t be… A swordsman with such resolve couldn’t have done nothing for so long. I suspect he’s connected to Xuěxiāo, maybe trapped here. And Xuěxiāo still has the sword aura that Yuè Hónglíng once planted in him—I can sense it. I’ll follow him quietly. I can’t show that, so I have to act arrogant and careless, letting them go.”

That encounter with Yuè Hónglíng in Xiāngyáng had seemed inconsequential, but now it all came to a head here… This great female protagonist’s luck was solid—Zhào Chánghé felt it was more real than his own luck, which seemed arranged by the blind woman.

Piāomiǎo understood and played along: “Then let’s continue training. This place is interesting.”

Zhào Chánghé transmitted again: “If you’re going to play Yuányāng’s role, don’t judge from such a lofty perspective—it’ll give you away…”

Piāomiǎo changed her tone reluctantly: “Brother Zhào, I can’t handle the illusions here anymore.”

Zhào Chánghé: “…”

Why are you so good at imitating Yuányāng? When did you practice?

As the thought crossed his mind, his hand was already on Piāomiǎo’s forehead: “I’ll help shield you a bit. The minor environmental interference shouldn’t be a problem.”

Piāomiǎo endured the strange sensation of being patted on the head and forced herself to keep up the act: “But if we really face Bōxún, will I be in trouble… Brother Zhào, am I holding you back…”

Cuī Yuányāng: “?”

Damn, why can you imitate me so well… And more importantly, why would you even say something like that?

Even Zhào Chánghé was momentarily dazed, almost unable to tell the difference between Piāomiǎo and Cuī Yuányāng anymore… If this continued, it seemed less about studying how to separate them and more about studying how to merge them…

But merging would mean one of their consciousnesses would inevitably disappear, turning into two different memories of one person combined. Originally, letting Piāomiǎo’s consciousness dissipate and having Cuī Yuányāng remember the past was the best reincarnation awakening method. But now, could he bear to let Piāomiǎo disappear?

He didn’t know… For now, Zhào Chánghé avoided thinking about it and forced himself to say: “Don’t worry, little fool. Brother Zhào will protect you even if it costs his life.”

Piāomiǎo got goosebumps all over, and so did Zhào Chánghé. Both were awkward, each looking down in silence.

Zhào Chánghé couldn’t deal with the increasingly strange atmosphere between him and Piāomiǎo anymore. He forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

He sensed the sword aura of Yuè Hónglíng inside Xuěxiāo and found that it hadn’t gone far—it was hiding somewhere, watching. But the illusion beast disguised as Sīsī was undetectable… This kind of illusion beast was strange. Even the ones he had cut down earlier and the ones Piāomiǎo had blasted apart might not be actual living beings, but rather combinations of different soul fragments, scattered in space as intangible thoughts.

Was it possible that when all such thoughts gathered, they became Bōxún?

If so, had he been putting on an act from the start? Bōxún had probably known all along that this was Piāomiǎo, so he might never show up… Hmm… If Piāomiǎo knew she had been treated like a monkey in a show, how would she feel…

Forget it, better not tell her for now. Zhào Chánghé pondered for a moment, then suddenly walked toward the stone wall.

This stone wall was certainly mysterious, but since even Yuè Hónglíng, who hadn’t yet broken through to the Imperial level, had managed to break free from it, its level probably wasn’t that high. Zhào Chánghé didn’t think he couldn’t handle it now.

But a momentary trance was probably unavoidable. Earlier, Xuěxiāo had assumed that if Zhào Chánghé looked at the stone wall, it would hinder his combat ability, so he had deliberately avoided looking. Now that Xuěxiāo and the others were hiding far away, it should be safe to study it.

The stone wall was indeed as smooth as a mirror, as Yuè Hónglíng had described. Standing before it, he could clearly see himself, but in an instant, the image changed.

Yuè Hónglíng had said, “I saw you”—she had seen all the tender moments of knowing and loving Zhào Chánghé. She said that if she indulged in those thoughts and followed the “Zhào Chánghé” in the mirror, her soul would be drawn into it. That was Yuè Hónglíng’s inner demon—the mirror had revealed the only flaw in her otherwise clear sword heart—but she had broken free.

It wasn’t that Yuè Hónglíng had conquered love; she had never transcended her feelings for Zhào Chánghé. It was just that at that time, she hadn’t wanted to be bound by love and had refused to follow him, preferring to wander the world on her own. So, as if by a cheat, she hadn’t fallen for the trap.

That was the Yuè Hónglíng of that time—the setting sun’s red feather, untamable. But if she looked at the mirror now, she might not perform as well as before. This thing didn’t care about your cultivation level…

What Zhào Chánghé saw now was also Yuè Hónglíng.

The first time he met her—when she had saved him at his most helpless, and he sat behind her, watching her slender, upright back, her ponytail brushing his cheek as they galloped toward Luò Manor in the setting sun.

That was his first sight of her in this martial world, and also the moment of his greatest helplessness, weakness, and dependence since crossing over—more severe than any other time. And now, that moment was magnified a thousandfold, flooding his mind unexpectedly, filling it entirely with weakness and dependence, leaving almost no other thoughts.

Inner demons surged, already affecting his consciousness.

If Zhào Chánghé were still clear-headed, he would have realized this was the most dangerous moment of his life—so sudden!

But when his consciousness was clouded, wisdom, ability, and will were all useless.

No one would have predicted that Zhào Chánghé’s inner demon would be something like this—everyone would have assumed it was love or lust, like Yuè Hónglíng’s. Even Bōxún, watching from the shadows, was surprised.

In his daze, he saw Yuè Hónglíng reaching out to him, as if to pull him onto her horse: “Come, sit with your sister.”

In his confusion, Zhào Chánghé slowly extended his hand.

If he touched it, at worst his soul would be drained, leaving only an empty shell; at best, his personality would change drastically, dominated by the inner demon, turning him into a weak-willed person.

Just as his trembling hand reached out, sword aura erupted behind him, and a formless ripple spread over his consciousness, stabbing his soul like a needle.

Xuěxiāo attacked! Bōxún appeared!

They aimed to ensure that even if Zhào Chánghé broke free from the stone wall’s illusion, they would finish him off.

From the very beginning, the greatest trap was the stone wall itself! Everything else was just a show of weakness, making Zhào Chánghé think Bōxún’s domain was nothing special, so he would let down his guard against a stone wall that everyone could see.

But just as their attacks were about to land, Zhào Chánghé, who had seemed dazed and trembling as he reached out, suddenly stopped. His eyes cleared, and he swung his left blade and right sword back in a furious slash.

Xuěxiāo rolled away awkwardly, a violent blade aura rushing past him, blasting a distant boulder into dust.

At the same time, Bōxún’s ripple dispersed, meeting no resistance.

A voice came from all directions: “You… full of inner demons, how did you break free?”

“Guess?”

No one could see that Zhào Chánghé’s consciousness was wrapped in layers of chains. Neither Bōxún nor the stone wall’s peculiar power could breach that defense.

——The Soul Chain given by Ying Wu, originally meant for the battle against the Cold Serpent, went unused there but found its purpose here.

Having long heard from Hong Ling about the stone wall's mode of manifestation, how could Zhao Changhe approach it without due caution? Before even looking at the wall, he bound himself in a tortoise-shell restraint—and indeed, it proved useful.

But what Zhao Changhe hadn't expected was that, as the stone wall's illusions assailed him, another vast and ethereal presence shielded his mind; even if the Soul Chain's effect proved insufficient, this presence granted him a sliver of clarity.

That sliver of clarity was enough to give him the willpower to break free from the hallucinations and suppress all inner demons. It was the protection bestowed upon the human king by the mountain and river's vital energy today... In concrete terms, it was Piaomiao protecting Zhao Changhe, and such protection only worked for a very few, like Xia Chichi and Zhao Changhe—even if Piaomiao died, it would activate passively.

Zhao Changhe had no time for sentiment. With a sudden roar, he thrust his sword into the void ahead.

Space split; dimensions shattered!

Whatever form the Demon Lord took, this attack should have some effect... If Piaomiao suddenly struck in a pincer move now, the Demon Lord would be in for a rough time!

But the phantom before him flickered, and the Star River Sword pierced empty air. The Demon Lord's existence seemed oddly intangible, as if completely unaffected... And Piaomiao, far from launching the anticipated coordinated strike, had Snow Owl's sword thrusting toward her back instead.

Zhao Changhe caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye and cursed inwardly... Piaomiao stood frozen, clearly ensnared by the stone wall's illusions.

How had he escaped the inner demons while she fell prey? She had just shielded him—how could she be caught? In cultivation, she was a supreme powerhouse at the third level of the Imperial Realm; in mind, she was desireless and utterly passive... No, that's wrong!

Today's Piaomiao bore heavier inner demons than anyone—she was no longer the desireless Piaomiao of old! This place was precisely her bane.

Zhao Changhe abandoned any thought of finishing off the Demon Lord. The Dragon Sparrow blade turned swiftly, deflecting Snow Owl's sword. Then he grabbed Piaomiao, trying to flee.

"Get away!" Piaomiao spun abruptly and slammed a palm into Zhao Changhe's chest.

The stone wall couldn't drain her soul, but it ignited her deep-seated inner demons, twisting her nature into a hatred-driven, demonized Piaomiao.

What he had feared two days ago had become a self-fulfilling prophecy!

Zhao Changhe instantly altered the muscle composition of his chest, taking the blow head-on. A crack sounded from his ribs—a slight fracture. With a grunt, he used the force of the palm to propel himself backward, dragging Piaomiao with him for several li.

"King Zhao, stay put!" The Demon Lord and Snow Owl, like thunder and lightning, gave chase and were upon him in an instant: "Didn't expect that King Zhao, who planned for everything, failed to account for those beside him, haha... Give up! If you flee alone, your spatial arts might give you a chance; dragging her along is pure suicide."

Zhao Changhe swung his blade in a Thousand Army Breaker, briefly stalling the pursuers, then flew forward in grim silence. Ahead, the phantom beast that had taken the form of Sisi blocked the path, while the Piaomiao he held turned ferocious, striking another palm at his vitals.

Dragging her along truly meant stabbing himself at every turn. Zhao Changhe had never imagined the trouble would come from Piaomiao... He had thought of her as a lethal weapon to ambush the Demon Lord, but she had become his own death warrant.

The situation, once firmly in his grasp, had suddenly reversed into a true pincer attack, with death looming.

After all, even Piaomiao alone was someone he couldn't defeat... And now, with her close at hand, he couldn't fight back, while behind him chased a demon god he might not overcome even with all his strength.

Zhao Changhe took a deep breath, his gaze utterly calm.

The more perilous the situation, the more it ignited his fighting spirit—even his joy.

He could never abandon Piaomiao; he had never chosen to leave a comrade behind. Besides, this body was still Yangyang's—how could he leave it here and flee alone?

But first, he had to solve the problem of Piaomiao... He couldn't beat her, but that was fine—he had her hand in his, and he had his ways.

With a flicker of thought, the Celestial Book leaped from his ring, directly intercepting the palm aimed at him.

The Celestial Book, indestructible by any force in heaven or earth, absorbed Piaomiao's blow without issue, the impact sending both of them drifting back. At the same time, the Soul Chain detached from Zhao Changhe's sea of consciousness, slipped through Piaomiao's wrist in his left hand, and burrowed into her body, swiftly invading her spiritual platform and binding her sea of consciousness tightly.

Piaomiao glared at Zhao Changhe with murderous eyes and struck again, but this time, the blow caused almost no damage.

—Piaomiao was originally a spirit; her cultivation lay in her soul. Her body was Cui Yuanyang's, its physical cultivation merely a pile of pure energy. Once her soul was locked, such attacks against Zhao Changhe's tempered physique were no different from a soft fist pounding his chest...

A surge of energy from Zhao Changhe's wrist shot into her meridians, sealing her acupoints. Piaomiao's body went limp, losing all strength.

The pursuing Demon Lord stared in shock. Who could have imagined that Piaomiao, far stronger than Zhao Changhe, would be captured in a single move? Even if her mind was clouded and she failed to dodge the Soul Chain, the sudden shift was too absurd.

Blood trickled from Zhao Changhe's lips. Ignoring the pain of his cracked ribs, he adjusted his stance, hoisted Piaomiao onto his back, and with a savage slash of his blade at the phantom beast blocking the way, fled for his life.

Within Piaomiao's sea of consciousness, Cui Yuanyang, caught in the crossfire and bound just as tightly, watched all this in silence. Though she was in the gravest danger, her eyes were filled only with nostalgia.