“Yes,” King Mu said flatly. “I granted you the ability to absorb ‘Baleful’ and wield ‘Baleful’. From now on, wherever there is ‘Baleful’, you can cast the spells of the Heavenly Demon Palace lineage, and your body will be strengthened—no longer a frail mortal.”
“What is ‘Baleful’?” Sa Luan spread his five fingers and was surprised to see black qi coiling around his body.
“One of the primal forces of Shenzhou, clashing with ‘Spirit’.” King Mu offered no further explanation. “You will understand soon enough.”
They passed through the Heavenly Demon Palace, and Sa Luan saw a small Ink Cauldron with black flames rising from it. There were five such flames in total, and distant cries of agony emanated from them. For some reason, hearing those desperate pleas for salvation excited him once more.
He had been violent and bloodthirsty since childhood. During his years growing up in the Liao Kingdom, he had been admonished and restrained, unable to fully unleash his nature. Now, the black qi, the black flames, and the deeds of the “Heavenly Sovereign” before him had awakened his true self.
Kill… kill… A voice echoed endlessly in his mind.
“What is this?”
“This is the manifestation of ‘Baleful’,” King Mu said. “Demonic Qi—the source of our current power.”
The black flames surged higher upon sensing King Mu’s approach. Sa Luan also noticed a groove at the base of the cauldron, like a channel for a magic array, which directed the black qi like flowing water toward the massive black tree at the center of the Heavenly Demon Palace.
“One thousand two hundred years ago, I brought it back to the Heavenly Demon Palace from Shenzhou,” King Mu said. “This is the palace’s earliest Ink Cauldron. The Baleful Fire comes from what you call the Warring States era: Qin and Wei at Hexi, Qin and Zhao at Changping, Yan and Zhao at Handan, Qin and Chu at Pingyu—four great battles that released the ‘Baleful’ from the deaths of millions.”
Sa Luan listened in half-understanding. He knew nothing of Han history and had never cared, spending his days hunting and raising dogs in the palace. But this spectacle made him realize that King Mu was an extraordinary figure.
“This one comes from the Wei-Jin period, the near ten million deaths from the Three Kingdoms vying for Shenzhou. But I only obtained a small portion.”
Sa Luan nodded and followed King Mu past many more Ink Cauldrons. King Mu continued, “This one is precious Baleful Fire I collected first from the War of the Eight Princes at the end of Jin. Further on are from a chaotic battle in Sui-Tang, the An-Shi Rebellion during Tang, and the slaughters and struggles of various warlords after Tang’s fall…”
Agonized screams, pleas for help, and wails emanated from every Ink Cauldron. Sa Luan found the sounds exhilarating, his blood racing through his veins, even boiling.
Soon, Sa Luan stopped. In the central courtyard stood a black pool of water that formed the face of a man, startling him.
“Mr. Ying?!” Sa Luan exclaimed. “What happened to you?”
“He was injured while carrying out a mission,” King Mu said. “Struck down by your guardian. The Regeneration Pool is repairing his body.”
Sa Luan nodded and watched for a moment longer. King Mu said, “Once you enter the Heavenly Demon Palace, death will no longer concern you. You will have eternal life. As long as this ‘Seed’ is not destroyed, the Demonic Phoenix can resurrect you at any time.”
Sa Luan was stunned, then revealed joy.
King Mu turned from the pool and headed toward the central great tree.
“Why is the Baleful Fire so weak there, unlike the others?” Sa Luan pointed to the final Ink Cauldron in the distance.
“That is the last one,” King Mu said, “the one I have always awaited. Two years ago, the Song and Jin of the mortal world destroyed the Khitan Liao Kingdom, releasing some ‘Baleful’ for me, but the power is still far from sufficient.”
At the news of the Liao Kingdom’s fall, Sa Luan’s expression grew complicated.
“Wait another year and a half,” King Mu said. “In the second year of Jingkang, Baleful Fire will rise on the final Ink Cauldron. And then…”
Sa Luan hurried to catch up, gazing at King Mu expectantly.
But King Mu fell silent, merely glancing at him.
“Do you wish to return to the mortal world and avenge your kingdom’s destruction?” King Mu asked.
“Yes!” Sa Luan replied without hesitation. “What must I do?”
“Bring more Baleful Fire to me,” King Mu said. “Burn Shenzhou with the flames of war. The more deaths, the brighter the flames in the cauldrons. The greater the agony before death, the purer the flames.”
They stopped before the final cauldron.
Flames faintly flickered in Sa Luan’s pupils as they reflected the cauldron’s fire. King Mu said, “You must harvest at least a million lives for me.”
“I will!” Sa Luan declared. “I want to kill the Song People and the Jin People! I want to slaughter them all!”
King Mu turned sideways, gesturing for him to look at the groove at the cauldron’s base and the deep channel leading to the giant tree.
Sa Luan thought for a moment and asked, “What is this tree for?”
“This is the new World Tree,” King Mu said. “It connects to Shenzhou’s fate. Two thousand years ago, I brought a Jumang’s Fruit back from Kunlun Mountain and established the Heavenly Demon Palace here, nourishing and irrigating it with ‘Baleful’. Now it has grown into a towering form.”
King Mu turned and left, with Sa Luan following closely.
“What next?” Sa Luan asked.
“When this tree fully matures,” King Mu said offhandedly, “it will bear billions of new fruits, forging for you a brand-new world—one you cannot yet imagine, where you can build as you desire. I will grant you a portion of the mortal world. In your domain, you will be a god—a true god for ten thousand generations.”
Aspiration gleamed in Sa Luan’s eyes. He pointed to the radiant golden giant wheel in the sky and asked, “And what is that?”
