Jiang Hu shook his head. The Nine Great Legends are famous far and wide, but if you ask who has actually seen them, there is no evidence.
But back when he was at Maoshan, his master once said that many Daoist skills and techniques within the Daoist Sect are all derived from those nine Chapters of Alchemy Technique.
After all, cultivating a single way, no one could succeed, so so had to settle for less, gaining insights from there, and drawing analogies to create various techniques.
"For example, Zhenwu Mountain has an extrely sinister skill called the Heart Demon Guide—it’s a technique that cultivates thoughts into demons and slays those who glimpse the Dao..."
"This technique is precisely a Great Skill passed down from the Divine Demon Holy Embryo among the Nine Great Legends." Jiang Hu whispered.
"Divine Demon Holy Embryo is one of the Nine Great Legends too?" Zhang Fan asked.
"That’s right." Jiang Hu nodded. "And the North and South Sect Origin you’re cultivating, though it’s already a top-tier Inner Core Dharma thod, it’s only a branch of the Five Elents Mistaken King."
Cultivating the North and South Sect Origin is already extrely difficult; in all Zhenwu Mountain, apart from Zhang Fan, no one else practices this thod. If one masters it, over the years, their body will inevitably undergo many strange changes.
But compared to the complete Five Elents Mistaken King, such mutations are nothing worth ntioning.
"If you et a fellow practitioner, stay away! Rember these words!"
Zhang Fan was thoughtful, his gaze subconsciously falling on the last line of that forum post.
"Thousand-Year-Old Demon? The last line is just nonsense—who could possibly encounter him? Who could master it?" Jiang Hu couldn’t help but complain.
The odds are lower than winning the lottery.
"Why did he suddenly post sothing like this at this ti?"
Zhang Fan thought for a mont. Ever since that ti the other had asked him if he’d dread of the Dragon and Tiger, Zhang Fan always felt that this Thousand-Year-Old Demon, though shrouded in mist, every word and deed seed deeply aningful.
"You know him?" Jiang Hu asked offhandedly.
"No."
Zhang Fan shook his head. "He even blocked ."
"Did you harass him? Maybe he’s a girl." Jiang Hu guessed.
"A girl?" Zhang Fan instinctively looked up, glancing at Jiang Lai not far away. Right now, she was sleeping face-down on the desk, seemingly not at all afraid of the boss docking her pay.
"It’s probably not her."
Zhang Fan shook his head. The Thousand-Year-Old Demon registered earlier than him, there’s no way it could be Jiang Lai.
"By the way..."
Just then, Jiang Hu’s voice pulled Zhang Fan back from his thoughts.
"In a few days, you might need to co with for a delivery."
"Where to?" Zhang Fan asked casually.
"Yin Mountain Xiong Family!"
...
Yujing City, Yin Mountain Xiong Family.
Candlelight flickered along the deep hallway, flas leaping, burning unwavering.
"Young Master Xing, why are you still so glum?"
At the end of the corridor, Xiong Qianxing’s face was icy as frost, glaring coldly into the darkness.
"Didn’t you get back at that kid through Xiong Ba yesterday?" Ming Chenxuan couldn’t help but say.
"Did you investigate what I asked you... did you find out?" Xiong Qianxing seed not to have heard him. His hand was wrapped in thick bandages, streaks of black blood showing through.
"Young Master Shan said... this matter ends here."
Ming Chenxuan looked uneasy. "Young Master Xing, don’t make things difficult for ."
"He’s too cautious." Xiong Qianxing gritted his teeth. "Even a strong dragon can’t suppress the local snake—no matter that brat..."
"Enough."
Thinking of the recent incident at the Ghost Pool, Xiong Qianxing shook his head.
"Who went into the ancestral hall?"
He suddenly changed the topic, eyes still burning with undiminished anger.
Right now, Xiong Qianxing really was furious.
"It’s still that unlucky bastard Xiong Ba..." Ming Chenxuan sneered.
Not a direct disciple of the Xiong Family; even Ming Chenxuan, an outsider by surna, looked down on him.
"Your family’s rules—non-direct disciples must enter the ancestral hall for ancestral worship every three years, lest they forget their place." Ming Chenxuan said with a light laugh.
"Co, let’s go give that cousin of mine a little lesson." Xiong Qianxing’s eyes darkened; right now, he desperately needed to vent his pent-up rage.
At that mont, inside the ancestral hall.
Xiong Ba, following tradition, burned three sticks of incense and respectfully bowed before the ancestral master.
Inside the quiet ancestral hall, fragrance curled upward, the faint firelight flickered, and he was all alone.
This was an important place for the Xiong Family, but usually, except for disciples worshipping, hardly anyone ca.
"You have arrived..."
Right then, a faint voice echoed inside Xiong Ba’s mind.
"Who?"
Xiong Ba’s face changed, suddenly standing up, looking around—there was nobody else in the empty ancestral hall.
"You’ve encountered your fate..."
The ghostly voice rang out again. Suddenly, his body trembled violently, his mind buzzed, and the scene before his eyes changed abruptly...
Black mist billowed and surged, with a dim light seeping through, like a fathomless abyss—nothing ahead could be seen clearly.
"Primordial Spirit Inner Scenery!?"
Xiong Ba’s heart stirred; he knew this was his own Primordial Spirit Inner Scenery. Many years ago, he had experienced it once before.
"We et again."
The eerie voice ca from within the fog.
"Evil God!?" Xiong Ba’s face changed again slightly.
Back then, the scene was just like this. That Evil God taught him the life-saving skill from the Taiyin Technique here, though at the ti Xiong Ba hadn’t seen his true form.
Now, the black mist surged, and a figure began to erge.
"You..."
Xiong Ba’s expression changed; his Primordial Spirit instinctively retreated.
He’d long heard that the Evil God suppressed in the clan was extraordinary—a dire fiend who turned into a ghost, prohibited from nothing.
A sense of fear arose within him.
Buzz...
At that mont, the black mist around him swelled furiously, ebbing away like a tide. The Evil God stepped right out, standing clearly before Xiong Ba.
"You!? How... how could it be you!?"
Xiong Ba stared at the figure before him, eyes wide—he was too shocked to speak.
"Zhang Fan?"
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