Swordbones looked on in sheer horror, his whole skeletal frame trembling.
What in the heavens is this little ancestor doing?!
The Myriad Demon Valley's sacred, revered ram skull… and he was just sitting on it like it was a stool?!
He's begging to be struck down by the heavens!
"I've got to get away from him—fast. If this little ancestor keeps challenging the heavens like this and ends up getting struck by divine lightning, I'll get caught in the blast just by proximity!"
Swordbones fretted anxiously.
But Mo Hua didn't care at all.
The ram skull wasn't very comfortable—cold, hard, and radiating eerie Yin energy. But it was at least smooth. It'd do in a pinch.
When resources are limited, beggars can't be choosers.
So Mo Hua continued sitting on the Myriad Demon Valley's sacred ram skull, eavesdropping on the black-cloaked leader and Jin Gui.
At that moment, Jin Gui was respectfully reporting:
"Forgive me, Chief... That old artifact forger suddenly went mad, killed the demon cultivator guarding him, detonated the Evil Weapon Chamber, and committed self-destruction. Fortunately, that Ouyang family brat was unharmed."
"But now that the forger's dead, we no longer have anyone to teach the forging of evil swords. The Young Master's plan will likely be delayed…"
"Additionally, several demon cultivators have suddenly gone berserk and died violently outside the Myriad Demon Prison."
"This is already the seventh incident."
"And for some reason, I keep getting the feeling that… something is watching me. Watching all of the Myriad Demon Prison."
"I suspect…"
Jin Gui paused, hesitant to speak further.
The black-robed leader narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice:
"You suspect… someone may have infiltrated?"
"Not necessarily someone," Jin Gui replied. "It could be… something from within the Demon Refining Mural that escaped…"
The black-robed leader's gaze darkened.
Jin Gui quickly explained:
"I've thought it through. These incidents are too unnatural. The odds of them happening naturally are too small. Blaming a saboteur doesn't add up either."
"Myriad Demon Valley is heavily guarded. Even if someone did sneak in, there's no way they could cause so much chaos under our noses without leaving a trace."
"Especially triggering demon cultivators to lose control—that's not something ordinary means can accomplish."
"The only plausible explanation is… the Demon Refining Mural!"
Jin Gui looked up at the black-robed leader, expression serious.
"So I suspect some terrifying entity from inside the mural escaped. Since it's formless and intangible, it can stir up chaos without being noticed."
The black-robed leader's pupils contracted slightly. He gave a slow nod.
Mo Hua, hiding behind the horned statue, couldn't help but nod too.
This Jin Gui… not bad. Pretty clever.
His reasoning actually seemed quite plausible.
After a moment of silence, the black-robed leader said:
"Enough. I'll handle this matter—you don't need to worry about it. Since it involves the Demon Refining Mural, it's beyond your capabilities."
Jin Gui bowed deeply.
"Understood."
Outwardly calm, he let out a huge sigh of relief inside.
That scapegoat has been passed off... finally.
The Myriad Demon Prison had been a mess all day. As steward, he couldn't dodge responsibility forever.
If he kept covering it up, the problem would only snowball. Eventually, when the truth came out, he'd be the one punished by the Young Master.
But if he didn't cover it up, he needed someone—or something—to blame.
And that's where the art of scapegoating came in.
He couldn't blame the other demon cultivators—they were under the control of demon patterns, incapable of disobedience. Plus, they were constantly monitored. Lying wouldn't work.
Claiming "an outsider broke in" wasn't viable either.
Everyone knew that since the construction of the Myriad Demon Valley, in all its centuries, no one from outside had ever gotten in.
How could it just so happen that the moment he became steward, an outsider slipped in?
Too suspicious. Too easy to disprove.
That left only one believable excuse:
Something from the Demon Refining Mural.
He'd spent a lot of thought crafting that theory.
If it was true—great, he nailed it.
If not—well, it was still unprovable either way. No one could definitively say otherwise.
Whatever the outcome, he wouldn't be blamed.
Demonic entities are intangible. Disasters strike without warning.
The mural was eerie and unpredictable—far beyond his pay grade.
The blame slipped away, naturally.
The leader wouldn't punish him—in fact, he might even praise him for being observant and cautious.
In times like these—whether you were a sect disciple or a demonic cultivator—knowing how to report matters was as important as having actual ability.
And indeed, the black-robed leader no longer dwelled on Jin Gui's responsibilities. His mind now turned fully to the Demon Refining Mural.
Jin Gui might've been shirking responsibility, but his reasoning wasn't entirely baseless. The mural was the core of the entire valley—any mistake there could be catastrophic.
The black-robed leader frowned in thought.
Just then, Jin Gui's eyes lit up and he added:
"Sir, didn't the Myriad Demon Prison used to have surveillance formations? If we reactivate them, couldn't we learn what's really going on?"
The black-robed leader shook his head.
"No. Those formations can no longer be used."
Jin Gui was puzzled.
"Why not?"
The leader said grimly:
"You weren't here when it happened… About two years ago, in a second-grade prefecture, in Bìshān City, a demonic stronghold was nearly completed—but then it was wiped out by the Dao Court. One of our Venerables even died in the incident."
"Afterwards, we learned that the 'spiritual surveillance compound array'—meant to keep watch—had been infiltrated and used against us. That's how the Dao Court's dogs got the opening they needed."
"Sir Tu feared the same thing might happen here in Myriad Demon Valley, so he dismantled the entire Primordial Magnetic Compound Array and sealed it permanently to prevent future risk."
"He didn't want our own 'eyes'… being used by others to spy on us."
Mo Hua froze.
So that's why…!
He'd always wondered why such a powerful surveillance array like the Primordial Magnetic Spirit Vision Compound Array had been completely dismantled and sealed.
Turns out… it was because of the "chaos" he himself caused back then!
Jin Gui still looked confused.
"But the Primordial Magnetic Array is so obscure… The advanced compound array version is even more niche. No sect teaches it. The Dao Court is bloated and inefficient—they shouldn't have anyone capable of using such an array. So who infiltrated it and turned it against us?"
The black-robed leader's tone grew heavier:
"I don't know. But according to Sir Tu, the culprit must be someone with incredibly deep knowledge and mastery of formation arts."
Mo Hua gave a subtle nod in hiding.
Sir Tu, you're absolutely right!
The black-robed leader then said:
"Be careful. Watch those three brats closely…"
"That Ouyang boy—find a way to get him forging evil swords. Once we have him working for us, his self-righteous older brother will have no choice but to submit."
"The sword genius from the Chongxu Sect—the Young Master has high hopes for him. Bring him aboard. After a taste of debauchery and pleasure, he'll become our kind of person."
"As for that one from the Song family… depends on how obedient his parents are. If not… just sacrifice him. He's useless otherwise."
The black-robed leader finished his instructions.
"Yes, sir," Jin Gui said, bowing again.
"You may leave," the black-robed leader said with a wave.
Jin Gui gave another bow and took his leave.
Now only the black-robed leader remained in the grand hall.
He sat down in the center, pulled out several scrolls of demon-hide parchment, and began studying them intently.
Mo Hua really wanted to know what he was reading—but he was too far away to see clearly.
"Could it be… the Divine Dao Formation?!"
Mo Hua felt his curiosity spike.
About half an hour later, there was a new sound from outside.
The black-robed leader closed the demon-hide scrolls and said calmly:
"Come in."
A figure cloaked in black stepped into the hall. Compared to the black-cloaked leader, Jin Gui, or the other demon cultivators, this person looked much smaller in stature.
More than a demon cultivator, he looked like an ordinary "human."
Mo Hua frowned in confusion.
Just then, the black-robed figure walked fully into the grand hall, pulled back his hood, and complained:
"What a damn place—so damp and stinking with rot. Cousin, I don't know how you stand staying here…"
Cousin?!
Mo Hua's brows furrowed. He looked carefully—and then froze.
He knew this person too.
Jin Yicai!
A highborn scion of the Jin Clan within the Broken Gold Sect.
Mo Hua remembered clearly: Jin Yicai's forefather had been sect master of the Broken Gold Sect eight hundred years ago. Now, his grandfather was the sect's Grand Elder, his father the Vice Sect Master, and his mother a Core Elder.
His entire family sat at the top of the sect.
A true golden spoon brat.
Last time at the Yanshui River, this very Jin Yicai had been caught trafficking cultivators and smuggling forbidden pills—practically caught red-handed—yet the incident was forcibly suppressed from above.
After that, he kept a low profile in public.
But clearly, in secret… he was still up to no good.
The black-cloaked leader glanced at Jin Yicai.
"Did anyone notice your movements?"
Jin Yicai waved him off.
"Relax. My father grounded me, sure, but the ones assigned to watch me are all guest elders—they follow my lead. Even if I vanish for a while, they won't dare question me. If they do, I'll complain to my mother and say they're insubordinate. Then they can forget having a future in the Broken Gold Sect."
He smirked coldly.
"That's the principle of 'blood over strangers.'"
"If I treat them with respect, they're honored elders. If I don't, they're just dogs raised by the Jin Clan."
As he spoke, Jin Yicai sauntered right into the center of the hall and sat down arrogantly.
The black-robed leader frowned.
"Watch your mouth. Be courteous to the guest elders—even if you don't mean it, at least put on a polite face."
"I can't be bothered to pretend," Jin Yicai waved it off, then brightened and asked,
"Cousin, the reason you called me here… don't tell me you've figured out how that thing works?"
Mo Hua's ears perked up.
That thing? What thing?
As he wondered, the black-robed leader replied,
"We've made some progress. You can try it out now."
Jin Yicai's face lit up.
"Great!"
The black-robed leader hesitated for a moment, then unrolled a piece of demon-hide parchment and began explaining:
"Originally, as a core descendant like you—constantly under the eyes of your forefather and the clan head—you wouldn't have been marked with demon sigils. Too risky if discovered."
"But the upcoming Sword Debate is too important. We can't afford delays. Even if there's a risk of exposure, we'll have to take the gamble."
Jin Yicai tensed slightly, a trace of unease flickering across his face—clearly, he still feared his elders.
"But if I get caught…"
The black-robed leader cut him off.
"The situation is special now. Even if you're exposed—it doesn't matter."
Jin Yicai looked surprised.
"Cousin, I don't understand…"
The black-robed leader gave him a meaningful look and asked:
"Are you doing all this… for yourself?"
Well, duh.
If a man doesn't look out for himself, heaven and earth will annihilate him.
Jin Yicai nodded instinctively—but then paused, thinking deeper.
"No… not just for myself…"
The black-robed leader nodded in approval.
"Exactly. With the Sword Debate looming, what you're doing is for the sect, for the clan—not just for your own benefit."
"No matter what means you use, as long as you achieve a top rank at the Sword Debate, bringing glory to the sect and contributing to the upcoming restructuring, even if your elders find out, they'll turn a blind eye."
"In fact, they won't blame you—they'll think you're capable and worthy of greater responsibility."
"Whether the methods are dirty or not doesn't matter. If they work, they're good. The rule of this world is simple: winners take all, by any means necessary."
"As long as you win—no matter how many dirty deeds, no matter how vile or depraved—there will always be fools who worship you."
"But if you lose—no matter how noble you are—you'll only be mocked and spat on."
Jin Yicai still looked uneasy.
"But what if it all comes to light…"
The black-robed leader's gaze darkened.
"If you win, even if it does come to light, your elders will still cover for you."
"Don't forget—you're a Jin Clan direct descendant. You rise and fall with the clan and the Broken Gold Sect. Your elders know this."
Jin Yicai's expression cleared.
"Alright, cousin. I'll do whatever you say."
The black-robed leader nodded, then opened the parchment fully.
"This thing still needs a base—either a demonic art or a magic technique to graft onto."
"I recommend using demon sigils. This is the Myriad Demon Valley—we have a full supply of sigils and top-tier blood and bone materials."
"This scroll contains demon sigils based on powerful beasts: bears, tigers, leopards—or fierce birds like golden eagles and falcons. Pick one, and I'll inscribe it on you."
He unfurled the array diagram made of demon-hide.
Jin Yicai looked through it, but none really caught his interest.
Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up. He pointed to a sigil:
"Cousin, give me this dog sigil."
The black-robed leader visibly flinched.
"What?"
"The dog sigil."
Jin Yicai repeated with a grin—one that oozed a sinister charm.
"Cousin, truth is… lately there've been far too many female cultivators sneaking into my residence late at night. All those cheap sluts—so annoying, yet so fresh and juicy, it's hard to resist."
"I need to teach them a lesson."
"They say dog demons…"
Jin Yicai gave a look that only the perverse would understand.
The black-robed leader froze in place, momentarily stunned.
Then his face darkened like storm clouds—his heart filled with both disgust and fury.
Coddling truly does ruin sons.
In this world, even a mangy dog dares to dream of being a wolf.
And this boy—born with a golden spoon—was nothing more than a rutting stray dog in his bones!
Veins pulsed at the black-robed leader's temple. He held back his anger and asked through clenched teeth:
"Are you sure about this?"
Jin Yicai remained oblivious to the contempt in his cousin's tone, still basking in his own smugness.
"Of course I'm sure. In this world, there are plenty of fools willing to throw their lives away on the frontlines. I don't need to be one of them. All I care about… is living comfortably and enjoying myself."
The black-robed leader remained silent for a long time before finally saying, expressionless:
"Alright."
Jin Yicai's face lit up with delight.
"Thank you, Cousin!"
The black-cloaked leader showed no hint of emotion, simply said in a low voice:
"This was your choice."
"Of course."
Jin Yicai looked excited—he could already imagine himself spending every night in debauchery, waging endless carnal conquest.
"Let's do it!"
The black-cloaked leader replied coldly, without expression.
He silently took out brush and ink. Using the demon-hide scroll as reference, he began drawing a Four Symbols Dog Sigil Array on Jin Yicai's back.
He used a bone brush, dipped in human blood, to draw demonic sigils.
This was the process of a heretical formation—and it came with twisted, searing pain.
Jin Yicai clenched his teeth, grimacing in agony. Several times he struggled to rise, screaming hoarsely.
But the black-cloaked leader paid no heed, pinning him down like a pig to be slaughtered, pressing him onto the table. His strokes were steady as knives, and in a mess of blood and pain, he completed the entire Four Symbols Dog Sigil Array.
By the time it was done, Jin Yicai was drenched in cold sweat, collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath.
"Cousin… it's just a formation… why does it hurt so much?" he stammered.
"It felt like the sigils were being sewn straight into my flesh…"
The black-cloaked leader's expression didn't change, but the contempt in his eyes grew deeper.
Can't even endure this little pain—what kind of cultivator are you?
You expect to achieve anything like this?
But he didn't say those words out loud. He simply explained:
"This Four Symbols Formation is a special one. It requires fusion with the flesh and blood. You've neglected body cultivation far too long—of course it hurts. It'll ease up soon."
Jin Yicai's face was pale.
"Cousin… we're only doing this once, right?"
He definitely didn't want to go through this torment again.
The black-cloaked leader nodded.
"Yes."
Jin Yicai finally let out a sigh of relief.
As he recalled the pleasures that would soon be within reach—parading his newfound strength and enjoying the spoils—his pain quickly evaporated.
A bit of suffering? Worth it.
Then he asked,
"When can I leave the valley?"
Mo Hua, still eavesdropping nearby, perked up at this.
Leave the valley?
But the black-cloaked leader shook his head.
"Not yet. Wait until the next valley opening."
Jin Yicai nodded.
Though he was eager to return to his cave dwelling in the Broken Gold Sect—no matter how cramped it was, it beat this Myriad Demon Valley—he still understood priorities. He wasn't that stupid.
The black-cloaked leader continued:
"Return for now. Once the Four Symbols Formation has fully merged with your flesh, come back. The next step is the true key."
Jin Yicai hesitated.
"But…"
The black-cloaked leader immediately understood his worry, sneered coldly in his heart, and said indifferently:
"The next formations don't involve pain like this. No more blood and agony."
Jin Yicai was relieved.
"Then I'll leave you to your work, Cousin. I won't disturb you."
With that, he turned and left.
After Jin Yicai's departure, the black-cloaked leader stared at his retreating back for a long time. Then he let out a faint, icy laugh:
"If the Broken Gold Sect doesn't fall into decline with trash like that, it'd be a miracle…"
"Always chasing fame and fortune, drowning in luxury, fed with the rarest spiritual treasures… yet generation after generation, they raise nothing but useless worms."
His gaze turned cold.
He walked to the center of the hall and resumed studying the demon-hide formation diagrams, appearing deeply engrossed.
The hall fell into silence.
Under the flickering torchlight, only the rustling of parchment could be heard.
With no one talking, there was nothing left for Mo Hua to eavesdrop on.
Hiding behind the statue, unable to act, he was starting to feel pretty bored.
He didn't know how much time had passed, when suddenly—the black-cloaked leader moved again.
He glanced at the sundial on the table, then closed the demon-hide scroll and whispered:
"The time has come…"
Mo Hua blinked.
The time for what?
While he was still puzzled, he saw the black-cloaked leader walking straight toward him.
Mo Hua tensed—but quickly realized, the man wasn't walking toward him, but toward the goat-horned demon statue in front of him.
The man slowly knelt down.
He knelt with sincere reverence.
At the same time, he began chanting in a low tone:
"Boundless Great Wilderness, Supreme Divine Lord…"
"May Your life be eternal, Your existence endless…"
"Grant me Your divine blessing, bestow upon me a mighty divine will…"
"Guide me, O Master, through the maze—grant me the secrets of the Dao of Arrays…"
…
As Mo Hua listened, an ominous feeling rose in his chest.
Just then, the black-cloaked leader kowtowed three times before the statue.
With the third kowtow, a strange, eerie aura of divine will began to rise from his body.
And then, above his shoulders and crown—a crimson figure slowly took shape.
This blood-red figure exuded a twisted, terrifying energy. It had the vague shape of a scholarly man, but its features were blurred by bloodlight.
Mo Hua's pupils constricted sharply.
A familiar name rose unbidden in his mind:
"Mister Tu!" (屠先生)
(End of this Chapter)