Immortality Through Array Formations

Chapter 670: Chapter 550 Who is the Taoist_3

Within the Dali Mountain State boundary, bound by the constraints of Heavenly Dao.

The late-stage Golden Core Old Demon in a blood robe, wielding these three Demon Path treasures, approached the pinnacle of a Cultivator’s combat power under the restrictions of Heavenly Dao!

The Old Demon in the blood robe gazed at the Taoist with an authoritative voice:

“He who offends the Saint Heir shall be killed without mercy!”

Such might seemed to subdue the Taoist.

The Taoist stopped in his tracks, dark eyes shifting from the Old Demon in the blood robe to the Saint Heir, uttering a cold and indifferent sentence:

“Are you protecting him?”

His voice was hoarse, like dry wood, as if leaking air through his throat, sounding somewhat distorted.

“Naturally…” said the Old Demon in the blood robe.

“Why?”

“Is he worthy?”

Emotions flickered across the Taoist’s face as he began to speak more…

Though coming from a single individual, the voices seemed different, as if multiple people, with distinct tones, spoke through one mouth in unison.

The intonation was nonchalant, yet intermixed with the world’s spectrum of sorrow and rage.

Anger, resentment, hatred, ridicule, contempt—such intense emotions, thick as liquor, dense as ink, all fermenting together:

“You are a Golden Core, a grand Demon Cultivator!”

“Why would you risk your life to protect this junior?”

“Just because he’s the Saint Heir?”

“He’s the Saint Heir?”

“What makes him the Saint Heir?”

“What gives him the right to order you around, to make you bend the knee, to make you grovel and call him master?”

“Just because of his Saint Heir bloodline?”

“What’s so special about bloodline?”

“After death, isn’t it just a pool of blood, a heap of decomposing flesh, what’s so special about bloodline?”

“Why, some people are born as Saint Heirs?”

“And others born to be slaves and servants?”

“Just because of that decayed skin, that dried-up pool of blood?”

“Why is that?”

All the voices from the Taoist coalesced, cacophonous and piercing, and yet they seeped into the heart to question:

“Why can’t the Saint Heir be you?”

“Why can’t the Demon Monarch be you?”

“Does the Demon Monarch Holy Master have true nobility?”

“Nothing but a pool of flesh and blood…”

“Living is the same, and so is dying…”

…

As the enchanting voice of the Taoist entered his ears, the Old Demon in the blood robe trembled, shuddering all over, desperately trying to steady his mind:

“No, it’s not right, he’s the Saint Heir, he has the Saint Heir’s bloodline…”

The voice of the Taoist slowed again, but maintained an otherworldly coldness and endless seduction:

“Then eat him…”

“Eat his flesh, drink his blood!”

“Devour his bloodline!”

“You will become the Holy Master!”

The Old Demon in the blood robe’s legs went weak; he could not help but stagger backward, his eyes wild, his conviction wavering.

No!

That’s not right!

This Taoist is deceiving me!

Yet…

He clearly knew, the Taoist was deceiving him!

But in his heart, a boundless desire and impulse still surged forth.

Yes, the Taoist was deceiving him…

But… was he really deceiving him?

Was he wrong in what he said?

Why?

Why must I, a grand Golden Core Demon Cultivator, be a lowly old servant, bend the knee, grovel for mercy?

Aren’t practitioners of the Demon Path supposed to be lawless and act as they please?

What’s the big deal about eating a person?

Eating a Saint Heir… what’s the big deal about that?!

With a “clang,” the Soul Protecting Bell shattered.

The Old Demon in the blood robe had lost his soul’s defense…

Fear flashed in his eyes.

He felt his Divine Sense split in two, one part “sanity” remained, knowing what he must not do, the other part filled with terrible instincts and desires.

This instinct drove him, eyes greedy, step by step towards the Saint Heir, as if he really wanted to…

Devour the Saint Heir alive!

“No!”

The Old Demon in the blood robe struggled with his rationality.

He must not harm the Saint Heir!

The Old Demon in the blood robe’s expression twisted from the struggle, his face reflecting great fissures of pain, but eventually, sanity returned slightly, and he began to control his body again.

But it was only partial control.

He controlled his left leg while his right leg still moved toward the Saint Heir, he fell to the ground, controlling his left arm, but his right arm scraped the earth, crawling toward the Saint Heir.

No matter how grotesquely the Old Demon in the blood robe struggled, he could not control himself, step by step, he closed in on the Saint Heir.

And the closer he got to the Saint Heir, the stronger the murderous intent in his heart, the deeper the hunger.

And the Saint Heir had been scared into foolishness, standing there motionless.

“I must not harm the Saint Heir!”

“The Saint Heir is noble and must not suffer harm!”

With a hardened heart, the Old Demon in the blood robe angrily severed his meridians, crippling his hands and feet.

But as a Golden Core, even with severed meridians, and crippled limbs, he still had Blood Qi, Demonic Qi, his own Magical Treasure…

As long as he lived, the Saint Heir would surely die.

Despair appeared on the face of the Old Demon in the blood robe.

“Is this… the work of Gui Tao’s people…”

He glanced at the Saint Heir, let out a mournful smile, and then with a fierce look, he formed claws with his fingers, severed his heart meridian, while reversing his Spiritual Power, destroying his Golden Core!

The Golden Core exploded with great force.

In a flash, Demonic Qi surged and a blood fog filled the sky.

The Old Demon in the blood robe contained the force of self-destruction within his own flesh, all to avoid harming the Saint Heir. Thus, the blood fog was thick and the momentum enormous, but the unleashed force was not strong.

The Old Demon in the blood robe passed away.

All present were utterly shocked.

Gui Tao’s people remained unaffected, showing disdain for the death of the Old Demon in the blood robe:

“Brave enough to die, but not to rebel, enslaved by nature…”

Having said that, he walked towards the Saint Heir, his gaze indifferent, as if looking at dregs.

As if someone as exalted as the Saint Heir were nothing more than a pile of decayed bones and rotten flesh.

The terrified Saint Heir finally came to his senses, stumbled to the ground, and began to scramble backward.

More than twenty Golden Core Demon Cultivators, all dead at the hands of Gui Tao’s people!