Nameless Region Arc Chapter 81: Master of the Game (VI)

Sometimes fate is nothing more than such a simple thing. Had the Black Demon Taoist not chosen to ally himself with Zhou Xuanhong in the beginning, none of this series of events would have unfolded. The Fierce Ghost Sect would never have had such a legitimate opportunity, nor would it have gained today’s chance to break through the Nascent Soul stage.

Both Xuanqizi and Liu Xiang were at the peak of the Golden Core, their talents no less than the Black Demon Taoist’s. Yet they failed to make choices beneficial to themselves—or, in Liu Xiang’s case, he did not regret his decision.

Xuanqizi, who perished within the Fusion Array, died without ever realizing how far his disciple’s secret plotting and machinations had surpassed his own imagination. Perhaps, in the flash of clarity before his death, he recalled how Zhou Xuanhong always addressed him as “Master,” never as “Teacher.” The former carried more respect, the latter warmth and intimacy.

Now, Zhou Xuanhong's actions reveal that all his previous conduct was but a façade. Yet, even in pretense, he never chose the warmer title of “Teacher.” Such a person is both pitiable and hateful.

Had Xuanqizi ever harbored even the slightest thought of helping his disciple, Zhou Xuanhong would have sought to turn him. But he did not. All his actions only pushed Zhou Xuanhong deeper into the abyss, making his death inevitable.

To break through from the Golden Core to the Nascent Soul, one must endure the ordeal of heavenly tribulation. The Black Demon Taoist worried the thunder tribulation might affect the Fusion Array, so he sped away diagonally, avoiding the area.

He was well prepared for this breakthrough. Before arriving at Xingyan Sect, he had meticulously readied everything needed for the tribulation. Although ghost cultivators were at a natural disadvantage when facing heavenly tribulations, success was not impossible.

“It’s here, at last! After twelve hundred years of cultivation, today I finally face the Nascent Soul thunder tribulation. Even if I perish beneath it, I will die without regret!”

At this moment, all thoughts of the Fierce Ghost Sect, the future of the sect, and schemes and plots were cast aside. His heart surged with excitement, his body trembled with exhilaration—rare for one so steady-minded and old.

From a distance, the Corpse Immortal watched with immense eyes, observing the Black Demon Taoist, lost in thought.

Among the crowd behind him, the disciples of the Fierce Ghost Sect showed excitement. Some, who had become ghost cultivators only after the merger, had come to know the grand elder in recent days. Yet their feelings were not as intense; they were simply moved to witness a Golden Core master breaking through to the Nascent Soul.

This was what troubled the Black Demon Taoist. With time, the old disciples of the Fierce Ghost Sect would dwindle, while new disciples practicing ghost arts came to see themselves as members of the Corpse Sect, their numbers ever increasing. Sooner or later, the Fierce Ghost Sect would fade into obscurity.

Even before the merger, the Corpse Sect had decided not to allow the Black Demon Taoist into their ranks. Otherwise, with his wits and mastery of the Fierce Ghost Sect’s secret techniques, the fate of Xingyan Sect would surely become their own future.

Now, as the Black Demon Taoist faced heavenly tribulation, their previous decision seemed all the more correct. Even if he succeeded, the Corpse Sect would not acknowledge his status. Even if he tried to take the remaining disciples and reestablish the Fierce Ghost Sect, the roots were already sown within the Corpse Sect; in time, they would sprout again.

Before reaching the Nascent Soul stage, cultivators do not face heavenly tribulations. Their strength depends on absorbing spiritual energy and skillful use. But upon attempting the Nascent Soul breakthrough, their first trial is the test of the world’s laws—thunder tribulation.

There are many explanations for thunder tribulation. Some say it is heaven’s punishment for defying the natural order—if one survives, they may continue cultivating. Others say it is the Dao’s test; if one’s heart is weak or cultivation flawed, they will be reduced to ash. Some even believe thunder tribulation is the manifestation of “Heaven and Earth are merciless, treating all things as straw dogs,” as if sentient beings are livestock, rules set and boundaries drawn, all within the Dao’s calculations.

Yet no matter the interpretation, one must survive the tribulation; living is the only hope.

“Come, then!”

High in the sky, the Black Demon Taoist arranged the Thousand Ghost Yin Fiend Array and other preparations. All was ready. Under the gloomy heavens, torrential rain fell, winds howled, and countless thunder serpents gathered in the storm clouds, poised to strike.

A flash of lightning! Above the Black Demon Taoist’s head, a thick beam of thunder crashed down, pulling the rain into a dense web of lightning, spreading outward in a dazzling display, yet the aura was terrifying.

The Black Demon Taoist transformed into a mass of black mist, from which countless fierce ghosts erupted—some powerful enough to match late Golden Core cultivators—rushing to meet the thunder beam.

A shrill cry!

The fierce ghosts screamed, their voices piercing. One after another, they were annihilated by the thunder, their souls scattered like snow melting under the blazing sun.

Thunder is the natural nemesis of fierce ghosts, especially the purest, most powerful Yang thunder of heaven and earth.

“Array, rise!”

Countless fierce ghosts were destroyed, and the Black Demon Taoist suffered heavy injuries. He unleashed the Thousand Ghost Yin Fiend Array with all his might; black mist billowed, meeting the thunder once more.

The black mist rapidly dissipated, and the Black Demon Taoist himself became a cloud of darkness, from which two sinister claws emerged, reaching out to meet the thunder. Sizzling and smoke rose from his claws.

The Corpse Immortal watched, somewhat admiring: “To face thunder with a ghost’s body—such a sight I have only witnessed once, a thousand years ago, from the Wandering Ghost Immortal!”

Thunder continued to rain down, thunder serpents surging, turning the area into a storm of lightning. Each contact with the Thousand Ghost Yin Fiend Array produced sizzling, dissolving sounds.

At last, as the thunder serpents in the clouds dwindled, the thunder beam lost its force and was nearing its end.

“Break for me!”

Though seriously injured, the Black Demon Taoist was exhilarated. Ghostly power surged from within, reinforcing the black mist, rising along the thunder beam to withstand the final assault.

“Hahaha! I’ve passed! My lifespan, cultivation, strength—Nascent Soul Immortal!”

At the same time, the golden core in his dantian cracked apart with a “ka ka” sound. Two small black hands tore it open, rushed to his sea of consciousness, absorbed all his soul power, and then transformed into a tiny figure less than an inch tall, floating above his head.

Nascent Soul—achieved!

After the tribulation, pure spiritual energy and world laws gathered around him, and a profound spatial law merged into his body.

Suddenly, a figure attacked from behind, aiming straight for the newly formed Nascent Soul.

The black figure spun around, spitting out a cloud of black mist to meet the assailant, then returned to the sea of consciousness within the flesh.

“How can it be you? Weren’t you dead?”

The Black Demon Taoist was shocked. His attacker was none other than the senior brother he had personally killed centuries ago. For the sake of a secret technique, he had plotted against his own brother!

“Hehehe, you’re doing well, aren’t you? Even reached the Nascent Soul stage. But what about me? I was good to you, yet you dug out my heart for a technique and sold it to the Corpse Sect. Come, join me, my dear junior!”

The Black Demon Taoist snorted coldly, “Though I don’t know how you appear here, if I could kill you once, I can kill you again. Prepare to die!”

He struck with a palm, a vast black hand smashing his brother to pieces—no flesh, no remains.

“Nephew, now that you’re an immortal, when will you revive us?”

Behind him, a middle-aged man looked on affectionately—an ordinary man, a voice buried deep in the Black Demon Taoist’s heart. His own uncle, who had sold his possessions to help him afford the journey to the Corpse Sect selection. Yet when he returned home, he found his uncle and family had died at the hands of Fierce Ghost Sect members.

“Uncle... Uncle? Why are you here?”

The Black Demon Taoist gazed at the familiar yet strange face, reached out to touch it, only to find a kitchen knife stabbed into his body.

His uncle’s kindly face twisted in rage, roaring, “I regret it so much. If it weren’t for sending you to the selection, my wife and children wouldn’t have died. It’s your fault! Your fault! Give your life in exchange!”

Coming to his senses, the Black Demon Taoist struck his uncle into a plume of blue smoke, dissipating. Blood flowed from his chest; he was confused at what was happening.

“Demon, return my life!”

“You slaughtered my whole clan—today I come with them to demand yours!”

“Brother, why did you betray me?”

Suddenly, the Black Demon Taoist sensed countless figures from all directions. Many he recognized; others were strangers. But without exception, all had died by his hand.

“You... aren’t you all dead? Hmph, even if you appear here, so what? I’ve reached Nascent Soul, I can kill you a thousand times over!”

He waved his hand, dispersing all the figures. When he thought he could finally breathe easy, they all converged again, including his senior brother and uncle.

“What is this? What’s happening?”

And so, again and again, the Black Demon Taoist killed them all, thousands of times. A dense aura of evil gathered, his eyes growing wild, slaughtering everyone mechanically, over and over.

“Kill! Kill! Kill! I’ll kill you all!”

Suddenly, a different figure appeared before him—a young Taoist, ordinary in appearance, calmly looking at him.

The Black Demon Taoist stared, stunned, then asked, “Zhou Xuanhong? Did you die by my hand, too?”

Zhou Xuanhong shook his head, extended a finger to touch the Black Demon Taoist’s brow, and said, “You’ve disappointed me. It seems your nature made your Nascent Soul breakthrough too hasty. Well, you are my pawn after all.”

As the words fell, a powerful suction emanated from Zhou Xuanhong’s fingertip. The converged figures around them shattered, turning into crimson lightning, gathering at his fingertip, forming a thunder serpent that Zhou Xuanhong swallowed whole.

Immediately, the Black Demon Taoist felt the world around him collapse, as if a blurry window opened, revealing the outside world ever more clearly.