I, a Demonic Nascent Soul Patriarch, Begin by Snatching a Cheat

On Yuqing Island, moonlight flowed like water, reflecting across the vast sea.

A full forty-odd Nascent Soul cultivators had gathered here, their killing intent surging to the heavens.

Over half of the Righteous Path Alliance’s top combatants were now assembled atop these ruins. Who could have imagined that the one forcing so many Nascent Soul mighty figures to stand in strict formation, laying down layer upon layer of arrays, was a young man who looked completely harmless?

Yet for a time, as the multitude of experts faced this defenseless figure in green, not a single one dared to strike first.

The devil had not yet reached the end of his rope. Despite being heavily surrounded, everyone feared his dying counterattack.

Furthermore, if this man still had some hidden trump card that allowed his Nascent Soul to escape, they would have to spend every day and night dreading the revenge of a late-stage Nascent Soul Grand Cultivator. Who could bear such a price?

Even with over forty Nascent Soul cultivators—including quite a few at the Middle Nascent Soul Stage and even a Grand Cultivator like Wei Tianhe holding the line—Jiuyou’s hopes of escaping under everyone’s watchful eyes seemed slim. But what they needed was a clean kill with no future troubles. They could not afford even the slightest mistake.

The moon crested the mountain peaks, casting down a clear radiance that made the bluestone slabs of the ruins shimmer with a faint glow.

The moonlight flickered across Jiuyou’s face in alternating light and shadow. That youthful countenance remained pale and calm, without a hint of panic.

His gaze slowly swept across the crowd, memorizing their faces one by one.Though he had now reached the Nascent Soul Late Stage and was confident his strength rivaled any cultivator of the same tier in a one-on-one fight, facing so many Nascent Soul cultivators meant that no matter how many trump cards he held, he would eventually run out of tricks and spill his blood across the sky.

But who said he had to fight?

The bloody light in the green-robed figure’s eyes deepened. Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed.

The laughter echoed in the night wind, carrying an undisguised mockery, as if he were laughing at everyone present.

”Devil, death is upon you. What are you laughing at?”

”Old Devil Jiuyou, no matter what trump cards you still have, you can’t fly away today even if you sprout wings!”

”Hand over Fellow Daoist Yuzhen’s Nascent Soul at once, and we might leave you with an intact corpse!”

Angry rebukes rose and fell, yet not a single person dared to take half a step forward.

Jiuyou looked at them impassively. Aside from Wei Tianhe, almost every Nascent Soul cultivator who met his gaze subconsciously stepped back, terrified of being targeted by this devil, terrified of becoming the breakthrough point for his dying strike.

”You think a pack of rats like you can keep me here?”

Jiuyou’s voice was not loud, but it reached everyone’s ears with absolute clarity.

The corners of his mouth tilted up into a faint, mocking curve.

”Let alone a mere forty-some Nascent Soul cultivators of the Righteous Path, even if every Nascent Soul cultivator in the Heavenly Abyss Sea were here, as long as I want to leave, no one can stop me.”

Before his voice faded, Wei Tianhe struck ruthlessly.

”Arrogant!”

With a loud shout, that Small Golden Cauldron from earlier transformed into a lightning-fast streak of golden light. It tore through the void, reaching Jiuyou’s face in the blink of an eye.

The crowd’s eyes tracked it tightly, waiting for that fatal blow.

Suddenly, a crisp breeze swept past their eyes.

The Small Golden Cauldron struck nothing but air. Jiuyou was nowhere to be seen.

He left behind only a burst of uninhibited laughter that echoed endlessly in the night wind:

”Blood stains Yuqing, the chill yet to wane; alone I laugh, scorning ten thousand foes.

A green robe vanishes into the vast sky, leaving the mortal world to wonder where I go.”

”Damn it! Where is he?”

”How could he vanish into thin air?”

”What kind of Escape Art is this? Even the legendary lightning escape couldn’t be this fast!”

The crowd erupted in an uproar. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, that blood-colored figure had vanished into thin air.

”Look! Over there!”

Following the shout, all the cultivators shifted their gazes in unison. They saw that the blood-colored figure had somehow appeared three hundred li to the south of the Yuqing Sect. He hovered above the sea with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at them from afar.

”Chase him! Don’t let him get away!”

Dozens of variously colored streaks of Escape Light tore through the sky simultaneously, dyeing half the heavens in brilliant hues. Every Nascent Soul cultivator flew out in full force, chasing rapidly after that figure.

Yet before the cultivators could chase him for more than a few li, Jiuyou’s figure—locked onto by dozens of streams of Divine Sense—was suddenly enveloped by a bizarre blood-red light. In the blink of an eye, he vanished into the void once more.

Without a trace.

Nowhere to be found.

”What... what kind of grand divine ability is this?”

”The devil definitely can’t use such a powerful Escape Art many times! Hurry, don’t lose him!”

No one dared to stop. But when they reached that stretch of the sea, the waters were completely empty. Only the moonlight spilled across the waves, gleaming with the cold luster of shattered silver.

The man was long gone.

...

In just over ten days, the news of the Yuqing Sect’s annihilation spread like wildfire across the entire Heavenly Abyss Sea.

Everyone learned that the one responsible for this was the exact same person who had previously wiped out the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect, Black Fiend Island, and Spiritual Cliff Cave.

What shocked the myriad cultivators even more was that this ”Number One Person in the Middle Nascent Soul Stage”—who had been forgotten by the world for nearly a century—not only hadn’t died, but had actually broken through to the Nascent Soul Late Stage.

He had become the fourth late-stage Nascent Soul Grand Cultivator to emerge in the Three Great Alliances of the Heavenly Abyss Sea over the past thousand years.

After a century of seclusion, he stirred up a storm the moment he emerged. He slaughtered his way through several great sects, single-handedly resisted over forty Nascent Soul cultivators of the Righteous Path Alliance, came and went as he pleased through layers of ambushes, and escaped effortlessly right under the noses of dozens of mighty figures.

Such courage, combat power, and heaven-defying methods were extremely rare throughout all of history.

As the news spread, the entire Cultivation World was shaken. Major sects held overnight meetings, the patriarchs of various factions urgently recalled their wandering disciples, and countless rogue cultivators ran to tell one another, turning pale at the mere mention of it.

Rumors ran wild in the streets, growing more mythical with every telling.

Some said that Jiuyou’s physical body, cultivation methods, and Escape Arts had all reached the absolute zenith of his realm, making him invincible among his peers. Others claimed he possessed several ancient exotic treasures, his hidden trump cards completely unfathomable.

Some were terrified, some were full of reverence, and some fell entirely silent. There were also those who secretly rejoiced, thankful that they hadn’t participated in the partitioning of Soul Wraith Island all those years ago.

As for the factions that had participated, they were now in a state of panic, unable to sleep day or night.

In an instant, the Heavenly Abyss Sea saw winds rise and clouds scud, with dark currents surging beneath.

...

On a subordinate island of Endless Island.

Even before getting close, one could hear the continuous roars of demonic beasts coming from within.

This was Endless Island’s beast enclosure for raising spirit beasts. Year-round, it was guarded by only a Peak Golden Core elder and a dozen or so Foundation Establishment disciples. The spirit beasts on the island were not of high grades, peaking at Level 5, so watching over them was considered a leisurely and comfortable job.

Deep within the island, inside a remote and simple courtyard.

An old man and a youth sat facing each other. The old man’s temples were white, and several old knife scars cut across his face. His eyes were filled with the vicissitudes of life as he lay quietly in a rattan chair, listening to the youth recount the major events that had recently occurred.

As he listened, the old man’s back unconsciously straightened, his face filled with disbelief.

”That’s roughly how it happened, Elder Demonic Wind.”

The youth grew more excited as he spoke, his eyes brimming with awe and yearning.

”That Grand Ancestor Jiuyou who disappeared a hundred years ago suddenly returned, and he even became a late-stage Nascent Soul Grand Cultivator! Not only did he wipe out the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect, Black Fiend Island, and Spiritual Cliff Cave, but he also charged single-handedly into the heart of the Righteous Path Alliance and directly annihilated a great orthodox sect, the Yuqing Sect! This is a true titan of the Demonic Path!”

The youth spoke until his mouth was dry before finally stopping. He turned to look at the old man and was instantly startled.

”Elder, what’s wrong? Why are your eyes wet?”

The old man known as Elder Demonic Wind hurriedly raised a hand to wipe the corners of his eyes, his voice a little hoarse.

”It’s the sea breeze. Yi’er, go out first. Let me have some peace and quiet alone.”

The youth nodded and didn’t linger. He jogged out of the courtyard, pulling the door shut behind him.

The courtyard fell silent.

The old man slowly stood up, his steps heavy with age, and his tears finally flowed unstoppably.

He tilted his head back, looking toward the azure horizon. He blinked, trying to hold his tears back, but it was in vain. Murky tears slid down his deeply wrinkled cheeks, dripping onto his washed-out collar.

He murmured softly, his voice full of sorrow and choked with sobs.

”Grand Ancestor... your grandson knew it. You’re still alive, you’re still alive...”

The setting sun slanted down, stretching his aged silhouette long across the ground. He closed his eyes, and it was as if he had returned to those past years—that spirited, youthful young master who followed behind the grand ancestor, running rampant without restraint.

Now, things remain the same but people have changed.

Only that back clad in dark robes remained carved in the depths of his heart, never fading.

The setting sun cast a slanted light, dyeing the courtyard in a warm yellow hue.

The old man closed his eyes. His tears had dried, leaving only a face full of deep lines. He lay on the rattan chair, motionless, as if asleep, or perhaps waiting for something.

He had waited for many years.

Ever since the day he burned his lifespan to fight desperately and Soul Wraith Island was destroyed, he had been waiting. Waiting for the sect to be rebuilt, waiting for their enemies to be executed, waiting for the figure he had followed since childhood to suddenly descend from the sky one day.

He had waited year after year, until his hair turned white at the temples, until his heart turned to dead ashes.

He thought he would never see the day...

Outside the door, a green-robed figure had quietly appeared in the courtyard at some unknown moment.

Dusk closed in from all sides. The evening breeze swept past, bringing a faint, familiar aura. It felt like the lingering chill that had shrouded Soul Wraith Island a hundred years ago, or like an old memory preserved in some distant dream.

In the rattan chair, Canfeng abruptly opened his eyes.

He felt a slight weight in his hand. Looking down, a jade box now lay quietly in his palm, placed there at some unknown time. The box felt warm and smooth, still holding a trace of residual heat. His fingertips trembled slightly as he gently opened it. A Soul Coagulation Pill rested silently inside, its spiritual light swirling and reflecting in his murky old eyes.

He suddenly broke into tears.

It was not a loud wail, and there were no choking sobs.

Just the tears, rolling one by one from his dry eye sockets, falling silently and winding their way down his knife-deep wrinkles.

He raised his head and looked around. The courtyard was empty, save for the setting sun that stretched the shadow of the bamboo chair long across the ground. The twilight wind blew through the broken fence with a soft whine, like the sigh of passing years.

”Grand Ancestor...”

He murmured. His voice was hoarse, as if he had swallowed back a hundred years of hardship, a hundred years of humiliation, and a hundred years of waiting.

The dusk deepened. That green robe was long gone. Only the jade box in his palm still retained a hint of lingering warmth.