Chapter 84: The Heavenly Demon Cult Serial Murder Case #5 – No Chinese Allowed, Absolutely Not.

Qing had learned a new internal energy cultivation technique.

Her internal qi remained still, lying in wait as it assessed this new, unknown resident that had just entered her system.

Lately, all she’d been absorbing were sinister techniques.

Even her Bliss Palace’s Qi, which was supposed to repel demonic energies, had given up the fight and had been reduced to a pathetic, overworked laborer, panting and wheezing from the sheer burden of chasing after survival rather than purifying her.

Meanwhile, the Zhu Xiang's Nourishing True Soul Sutra was struggling to hold its ground.

It had been completely occupied erasing the Heavenly Slaughtering Star’s corruption from her upper dantian (brain) and had no room to maintain order.

And the Yue Maiden Cultivation Technique?

Well, what can you do? Demonic energy is still energy.

It had resigned itself to watching the chaos unfold, mumbling about the sanctity of all life.

On the other hand, the demonic faction inside her was thriving.

After all, demonic energy was naturally drawn to bloodshed and flourished when its wielder was ruthless.

Her upper dantian had already been steeped in killing intent, and she was one step away from fully succumbing to it.

She just needed one more powerful demonic art to push her over the edge.

At this point, it was almost inevitable.

And then—

As her first breath guided the new energy through her meridians, her dantian’s gate swung open.

The new tenant made its grand entrance.

With a benevolent smile, a holy radiance flared behind it—burning away the darkness and illuminating the truth.

Buddha has entered the chat.

"Buddha appeared! Just as expected!"

The Daoist energies inside her burst into cheers.

Grand Purity Sutra—one of the two **greatest teachings of Buddhist cultivation—had just descended upon her.

In Buddhism, the word Purity (靜, 정) wasn’t just about silence.

It referred to a state where one's mind was completely free from distractions—as still and serene as an undisturbed lake.

And when a Buddhist cultivator meditated to unify their spirit, they honed their mind into that same state of stillness to pursue enlightenment.

Grand Purity Sutra was a divine internal energy cultivation technique that embodied this enlightenment.

It wasn’t just internal cultivation.

It was a spiritual practice that controlled both the body and the mind.

It was also the signature technique of Emei Sect.[^Referenced in Chapter 64!]

In the martial arts world, all of the Nine Great Orthodox Sects had at least one legendary martial art that defined them.

• Shaolin had Reversal Tendon Marrow Sutra.
• Mount Hua had Purple Cloud Divine Art.
• Wudang had the Supreme Tai Chi Sword.
• And Emei? Anyone who knew the name Emei immediately thought of Grand Purity Sutra.

And yet—

Here, in the most godforsaken den of villains—

In the hands of a deranged, bloodthirsty slaughter demon—

One of the greatest Buddhist teachings had just descended.

And all thanks to an incredibly shady, underhanded method.

Meanwhile, in Emei Sect, their grandmaster—known in the Central Plains as the Venerable Abbess—[^Surin is good friends with the Abbess, head of a monastery. Basicly the leader]

If she found out about this, she’d probably vomit blood.

Losing their sect’s most sacred martial art would be devastating enough.

But knowing it had been stolen by an unhinged mass murderer?

Sixty years of spiritual cultivation—down the drain.

What use was inner peace after a humiliation like that?

For all their piety, Emei Sect was still a martial arts sect first and foremost.

Even their Buddhist nuns were trained warriors.

Shaolin and Emei were notorious for producing monks and nuns who were more "martial" than they were "Buddhist."

Honestly?

For a bunch of fraudulent martial monks, they were some of the most respectable people in the martial world.

But regardless—

Qing just completely devoured Emei’s sacred art in one go.

Since her cultivation had been stuck lately, she funneled enough energy into it to immediately boost it to Six Stars—the most efficient breaking point for maximizing her gains.

She left some room to push it further later, just in case she needed an ace up her sleeve.

Even at Six Stars, the impact was immense.

All the inner demons that had been accumulating inside her were instantly purged, and for the first time in a while, a soft, tranquil energy settled in her gaze.

Her lifeless, dead fish eyes regained their brightness—

A miracle.

Of course, even if she had regained some sanity, this had been a near-death experience—

She had fallen straight off a cliff, only to ride the updraft like a dragon soaring into the heavens.

Still—

As the Heavenly Slaughtering Star, she had managed to hold her ground rather well.

Meanwhile, in the vast sky above—

An ominous, foreboding star flickered with uneasy light.

But that was all.

For now.

The lonely ominous star, which had existed for an eternity as if a single day, shone above. Compared to it, human will was as fleeting as a spark.

No mere insect of a human could defy the will of the stars.

This was nothing more than a brief tantrum.

In the end, blood and tears would rain across the world.

The famed Daoists of the Central Plains saw the light of that star.

In that moment, they realized—a fully matured Heavenly Slaughtering Star had emerged somewhere in the world.

It was like when Fan Zeng and Xiang Bo gazed at the heavens and divined Xiang Yu’s fate during the Chu-Han Contention.

Or when their brilliant successor, Zhuge Liang[^Zhuge Liang (诸葛亮, 181–234 AD) was a legendary military strategist, statesman, and scholar of the Three Kingdoms period. Serving as the chancellor of Shu Han, he was renowned for his tactical brilliance, foresight, and ability to interpret celestial omens. Often likened to a living sage, he was said to read the will of the heavens, much like Fan Zeng and Xiang Bo, who divined Xiang Yu’s fate during the Chu-Han Contention. In the martial world, being able to read celestial signs was a mark of profound wisdom—hence why the Daoists in this passage, despite their insight, are left feeling powerless as they recognize the presence of the Heavenly Slaughtering Star.], read the decree of the heavens.

To be able to read the flow of fate was the mark of intelligence.

With martial knowledge far more advanced than in those ancient times, people had developed many interpretations of celestial omens.

Anyone who thought they had even a little worldly experience could at least recognize fragments of heavenly signs.

But what could these Daoists actually do?

The owner of the Heavenly Slaughtering Star was currently unconscious, dead to the world in some godforsaken place.

Meanwhile, those Daoists would be writing letters back and forth:

"My, this seems like a catastrophe. What do you think?"
"When did you see it? My cultivation allowed me to witness it at the early hour of Chou(1 AM – 3 AM)."
"Ah, you’re still lacking. I saw it at the tail end of Zi.(11 PM – 1 AM)"

Nothing but a thinly veiled competition of self-importance.[^Essentially, it’s a subtle flex, with one Daoist implying his cultivation is superior because he saw the sign before the other.]

Not because they had nothing better to do, but because they were preparing.

They were setting up their networks so that when the owner of the Heavenly Slaughtering Star revealed themselves, they could strike as one.

Ximen Surin also saw the star’s light.

From the unsettling hue of the ominous star, she knew her beloved disciple had narrowly survived a great crisis.

She let out a quiet sigh of relief.

That night, she lit a candle and left her quarters, climbing the mountain peak.

She would offer a ritual of gratitude at the temple dedicated to the Yan Emperor.

Even within the lands of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, there was one other person capable of witnessing this.

Ji Seungju, Vice Pavilion Lord of the Secret Pavilion.

Ji Seungju smiled as he gazed at the ominous star.

The Heavenly Slaughtering Star had finally descended upon the Central Plains.

And soon, the long-lost ambition of the Divine Cult would be realized.

When the Central Plains was drowned in the Heavenly Slaughtering Star’s bloodbath, the Divine Cult would soar.

This was a revelation granted by both the celestial gods and the demonic lords.

If those so-called celestial gods and demonic lords had actually seen this, they would be clutching their chests in agony, their ribs shattering from despair.

For the Divine Cult was sitting back, watching gleefully, completely oblivious to the fact that their own house was burning down.

Qing’s eyes fluttered open.

“Wow. This… this really is something else.”

Qing’s eyes opened naturally, her body feeling refreshed and completely free from any lingering drowsiness. A surge of vitality coursed through her, as if every cell had been reinvigorated.

The moment she had mastered Grand Purity Sutra, she had immediately blacked out.

It had felt like someone was kneading her brain, her body shuddering from the sensation—until she completely passed out.

In reality, it was the Buddhist divine art purging the corruption of the Heavenly Slaughtering Star, which had overwhelmed her system, causing an explosive fatigue crash.

But Qing didn’t know that—not that it really mattered.

The room was spotless, meaning that whatever disastrous eruption had taken place was now completely gone.

She hadn’t even realized that a group of lackeys, acting under Crutch No. 2’s orders, had completely torn the place apart and restored it.

Yeah, things had been seriously dangerous back there.

She had been seconds away from unleashing a White Hand Demonic Arts attack—even if it was just at a half of its full power.

Why only half?

Because it was just insignificant Gyeon Pohee.

She had thought it would be funny to see her twitching on the ground, coughing up blood, dying slowly.

A fitting end for someone whose entire career was about performing obscene dances—to become a spectacle herself in the end.

Recalling exactly what she had been thinking yesterday, Qing shuddered.

“Holy shit. So this is why people call them demonic arts. That was some seriously evil shit.”

Qing, who revered the strategy guide as her savior, still had no idea that her overwhelming bloodlust wasn’t coming from her demonic arts—but from her own Heavenly Slaughtering Star instincts.

Instead, she blamed the poor, beaten-down demonic arts in her system, which were currently being mercilessly strangled by her purified qi.

Alright.

From now on, she should start being nicer to her useless, incompetent junior sister.

She’d even teach her Maiden’s Blissful Art—after all, that was a Bliss Palace technique to begin with, so returning it to one of its own disciples was only natural.

Besides, they had already agreed to train together.

…Wait.

That training… was that training…?

Qing’s expression twisted.

Shit.

…Shit. Technically, a verbal agreement made while mentally incapacitated shouldn’t hold up in court, right?

Too bad laws protecting the mentally unsound had been abolished ages ago.

And Central Plains? Please. They didn’t have such laws to begin with.

If you failed to control a family lunatic, your entire household could get wiped out.

It was such a common occurrence that people didn’t even bat an eye.

Between territorial jurisdiction and personal jurisdiction, Qing’s promise was as legally binding as it got.

Qing glanced outside.

It was still dark.

After spending ten nights straight wandering around, her body had gotten used to it, instinctively adjusting her vision to the dim light.

She stood up and walked over to the window.

After ten gruesome nights of serial killings, even the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had no choice but to start patrolling at night.

The killer didn’t discriminate between masters and weaklings.

Nor did they care about status—whether noble or beggar.

So naturally, the cult’s patrolmen had to step up and safeguard Tianshan Divine City through the night.

Of course, the fact that their patrol routes were conveniently concentrated around the residences of high-ranking guests was nothing more than a coincidence.

After all, Tianshan Divine City was an equal society—where everyone was treated the same… except for those who mattered.

But none of this posed a problem for Qing.

For one, Furnace Street was the heretics’ district—where night patrols were rare.

Second, the patrolmen weren’t exactly motivated to put in overtime—especially when they weren’t getting paid for it.

And most importantly?

Qing’s Black Shadow Submersion Steps had already reached four stars.

She had spent nearly ten nights training religiously, so it was only natural that her progress had skyrocketed.

Black Shadow Submersion Steps was a red-grade movement art—a reward for her dedicated act of charity.

By which she meant:

She had personally peeled the entire skin off some nameless ninja bastard, then thoroughly bathed him in alternating poisons and antidotes.

And for all her efforts, he had generously gifted her his secret manual.

As the name suggested, Black Shadow Submersion Steps allowed her to dive into shadows and disappear.

Of course, it wasn’t some bullshit ninja technique where she could ride shadows like a teleporting ghost.

It was simply a high-level stealth technique that let her blend in with the darkness.

But the name wasn’t too exaggerated.

Because martial arts techniques needed grandiose names.

After all, who the hell would want to learn a technique called "Somewhat Similar to Buddha Palm" instead of just "Buddha Palm"?

Thanks to her new skill, Qing made it to Furnace Street without incident.

Upon arrival, she casually tugged at the thin tripwire beneath her feet—once, twice.

Then, she sprawled across the small guest room, stretching like a cat.

By now, she knew the routine.

Soon, from the even smaller inner room, Seol Ganom would appear—right on schedule.

A man with a unique habit of washing his hair in the middle of the night.

And sure enough, the door creaked open, and Seol Ganom shot her a look before speaking.

“Do you really have nothing better to do at night?”

Qing grinned. “Ah, I missed you too. Been a whole week, huh?”

“I can’t say the same.”

He shook his head, sighing.

Qing narrowed her eyes.

The hell?

She had gifted this bastard a priceless martial art—practically handed it to him for free.

And now that he had learned it, he was acting like he didn’t need her anymore?

Tch. People, man.

“Actually, thanks to you, I no longer need a bucket of water to wake up properly. But do you know why I still keep that bottle there?”

Qing smirked. “Because you’ve gotten used to it? Kinda refreshing, isn’t it?”

“No.”

Seol Ganom's expression darkened.

“It’s because I’m afraid of you.”

Qing raised an eyebrow.

“The next time I wake up, I’m scared it won’t be you, but some thing—a specter in human shape, choking the life out of me. I told you to stop your killing spree for just a week… and yet, here we are.”

His rant was cut off mid-sentence.

“Hmm?”

Seol Ganom suddenly frowned.

“…Something’s different.”

“What?”

But before she could question him further, Seol Ganom tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.

“No, no, not me—you. You’ve changed.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. You, on the other hand—damn, did you start wearing makeup or something? Why do you look prettier?”

Seol Ganom ignored her and kept staring.

“Your eyes.”

“…What about them?”

“They used to be like dead fish eyes—but now? They actually look human.”

Then, without another word, he turned away.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“To throw out the damn water bottle.”

Seol Ganom waved a hand dismissively.

From now on, just shake me awake instead. Or better yet—just show up during the day like a normal person, instead of sneaking in here every damn night