A pallid, ethereal fire flickered within his eyes, an unholy luminescence that danced with an unsettling rhythm. His garments billowed and writhed, though no breeze stirred, and a palpable aura of corruption seeped from his form, tainting the very air around him.

Ouyang Hua, witness to this transformation, stood transfixed, his eyes wide with dread. A gasp escaped his lips as he stumbled backwards, muttering, “The legends speak true… those outsiders, upon their first embrace of demonic essence, are consumed by an unholy aura. It is as they foretold!”

A wave of profound pleasure washed over the figure as the demonic energy, radiating from the crystal within, coursed through his veins, its siren call intoxicatingly seductive.

With a sharp, focused will, Wang Lin quenched the spectral flames in his eyes, and the insidious aura surrounding him dissipated into nothingness. He appeared once more as an ordinary man, though forever changed.

“This demonic energy, akin to the celestial power of Immortals, yet steeped in the unsettling, possesses a unique lineage,” Wang Lin mused. “When absorbed, it offers an alternative path. Perhaps, in time, it might be melded with celestial energy to amplify one’s cultivation, yet for now, the meager offering is insufficient for experimentation.” After a moment’s contemplation, he gestured toward his storage pouch, from which a dozen jade vials emerged and, with a flick of his sleeve, descended to rest at Ouyang Hua’s feet.

Ouyang Hua’s countenance brightened with renewed hope. He hastily retrieved the vials, examining each with reverence before securing them within his cloak, his heart thrumming with anticipation.

“Withdraw,” Wang Lin commanded, his voice devoid of emotion. “I shall meditate here. At dawn, I will depart.” He offered no further acknowledgement of Ouyang Hua, instead settling into a meditative posture, closing his eyes to commune with the demonic crystal nestled within his dantian.

Ouyang Hua, with a subservient nod, bowed deeply and retreated into the shadows, leaving Wang Lin to his solitary vigil.

Soon, the area was consumed by silence, broken only by the distant echoes of merriment and laughter from the encampment around the communal fire.

Wang Lin plunged into the depths of his own being, focusing all his attention on the demonic crystal.

“Should this substance be gathered in greater quantity, even if it resists fusion, it will undoubtedly possess potent abilities. The Eastern Sea of Demonic Spirits has drawn no less than a thousand souls, each with the singular purpose of acquiring these crystals. Their conflicts are naught but a desperate scramble for demonic essence. Yet, what other purpose might these crystals serve? Surely, there must be more to this, or else why would it have fueled such bloodshed for countless years, as Ouyang Hua claims?”

“There are secrets here, veiled in shadow. Only by unveiling them can I truly chart my course. Fifty, or even five hundred years… in the grand scheme of things, it is but a fleeting moment. If I can leverage this demonic energy to accelerate my cultivation, then I shall unleash the same ruthless ambition I once embraced in the Sea of Devils.”

A glint of cold resolve flickered in Wang Lin’s eyes, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

As the hours waned, the veil of night descended, shrouding the world in darkness. The communal fire in the valley persisted, though the villagers had retreated to their huts for respite.

Yet, it was only the women and children who sought true slumber. The men, one by one, emerged from their dwellings, brandishing an array of crude weapons as they converged at the valley’s entrance.

Among them was Ouyang Hua, his gaze heavy with apprehension as he scrutinized the landscape beyond the valley.

After a tense moment, his gaze shifted toward the depths of the valley, in the direction of Calabash Hollow, where Wang Lin was immersed in meditation.

“May this barrier hold against the demonic spirits, and may the Ascended One deign to intervene,” Ouyang Hua sighed inwardly. His decision to invite the stranger into the valley was driven by more than just an inability to resist. The barrier, weakened by ages of neglect, might not withstand the nightly onslaught of the demonic predators. Thus, he had reluctantly convinced Wang Lin to remain, divulging hidden truths and, finally, offering the valley’s sole demonic crystal as payment.

All of this was part of Ouyang Hua’s grand scheme. He hoped that, in the face of imminent danger, the stranger would feel compelled to assist them.

He scanned the faces of his fellow villagers, took a deep breath, and announced in a somber tone, “On this night of the demonic hunt, I need not remind you of your duties. Survive this night, and we shall see peace again.”

From his meditative trance, Wang Lin snapped his eyes open, his gaze piercing the heavens. Though shrouded in darkness, his vision saw beyond the mortal realm.

A subtle violet hue tinged the blackness, and tendrils of demonic energy, both potent and weak, surged across the horizon like an encroaching tide.

This valley was but a fleeting stop, a mere waypoint on his journey.

With unwavering resolve, Wang Lin reached to his brow and touched it. A sliver of his primordial spirit, transmuted into a wisp of divine consciousness, instantly detached from his body. It pierced through the valley’s barrier and ascended into the night sky.

This ethereal projection sped like smoke toward the looming wave of demonic energy.

The closer it drew, the more palpable became the impact of that demonic tide, its scope so vast that the horizon itself failed to contain it.

As the demonic energies swept over the land, life withered in its wake. Wild beasts, caught in its embrace, howled in agony before their flesh dissolved, leaving only skeletal remains.

Wang Lin’s brow furrowed at the sight of this devastation.

From a celestial vantage point, the Eastern Sea of Demonic Spirits revealed its true form: a violet surge, emanating from a central locus and rippling outwards in an ever-expanding sphere, encompassing the entire domain.

Wang Lin’s ethereal probe recoiled for a moment, then resolutely surged forward, tearing through the outer layers of demonic energy and plunging into its heart.

Deep within the surging tide, wreathed in violet light, stood a solitary figure.

He was cloaked in black, his expression cold and unyielding, his lips thin and cruel. In his hand, he wielded a slender, obsidian sword, which shimmered with the surrounding violet essence. As he swung his blade, he greedily drew in the surrounding demonic energies.

As Wang Lin’s consciousness reached him, the black-clad man slowly raised his head, meeting his gaze with a chilling smile that spoke of utter contempt.
“Your cultivation is not insignificant,” the dark-clad figure murmured, his voice a silken threat. A slender blade traced a pattern in the air before him. “I had hoped to surprise you, but no matter. Meeting me is your misfortune. Hand over your demon crystal, or don’t – you are my prey regardless.”

Wang Lin, in his spirit form, cast a chilling glance upon the man and swiftly retreated back to the valley. The dark figure did not pursue, a contemptuous smile playing on his lips.

“A mere Core Formation cultivator,” he muttered, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “Regardless of your sect, you will die here. His demon crystal should suffice for my entry into Sky Demon City.” A flicker of murderous intent blazed in his eyes.

Within the valley, Wang Lin’s spirit returned to his body, his eyes like chips of ice.

“He is the first Sky Fortune Star cultivator I have encountered here, his cultivation at the very peak of Core Formation… But to think he can kill me so easily is a grave mistake.”

Outside the valley, a tempest of demonic energy raged, a furious tide battering against the land. It crashed against the valley itself, and in that instant, the ancient array guarding the valley flared to life. Waves of emerald light pulsed, desperately holding back the monstrous onslaught.

But the assault was relentless, unending. The emerald light flickered and dimmed, the array groaning under the strain.

Within the valley, an unnerving quiet had fallen, heavy with anticipation.

At the valley entrance, the able-bodied men clutched their crude weapons, their palms slick with sweat. Their eyes were fixed upon the mouth of the valley, their breaths shallow and ragged.

Ouyang Hua stood before them, his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air. He chanted ancient words, tirelessly fueling the weakening array.

These nights of demon predation came every three months. Ouyang Hua usually trusted in the warding magic. But today, a deep unease gnawed at him. Wang Lin had drained much of the array’s power. Whether it could withstand this night’s onslaught, he couldn’t say.

If the array failed, the denizens of the valley would be devoured by the unseen horrors lurking within the demonic tide.

With each wave of demonic energy, the array trembled, its protective glow faltering. Cracks began to spiderweb across its surface.

Then, a thunderous impact reverberated through the air. Something immense was hurling itself against the barrier, and the array groaned, the cracks widening.

The force of the blows were felt within the valley, rousing the women and children from their sleep.

Far outside, amidst the writhing demonic tide, the dark-clad figure casually flicked his sword. A creature formed of pure shadow, a single horn protruding from its head, materialized from the swirling chaos. Before it could utter a sound, the figure cleaved it in two with a single stroke.

He inhaled deeply, drawing a stream of pure demonic energy from the creature’s lifeless husk. A wave of intoxicating power washed over him. He smiled, his gaze turning to the distant valley. With a flick of his wrist, his sword transformed into a streak of lightning, hurtling towards its destination.

The dark figure himself rose into the air, light as thistledown. He landed upon the flying blade, speeding towards the valley.

Inside, Wang Lin rose to his feet. With a single step, he dissolved into a wisp of emerald smoke, reappearing beside Ouyang Hua and the others at the valley entrance.

His silent arrival startled the villagers, who recoiled instinctively.

Ouyang Hua’s face lit up with desperate hope. “Immortal savior!” he cried.

Before the words were fully uttered, the flying sword screamed through the air, carrying with it the dark-clad figure and his chilling proclamation: “The hunt begins!”