Chapter 237: The Birth Of Demon Emperor Li Ling! - End
Chapter 237: The Birth Of Demon Emperor Li Ling! - End
Of those called forth, the first was a man who looked about thirty, with Seventh Realm late-stage cultivation that Li Ling could not properly read, long black hair tied behind him, calm golden eyes, and customized white-and-black robes whose six-path wheel was surrounded by sword-like rays of light.He had a noble bearing that did not need to announce itself, the kind of person who could stand quietly in a room and make others instinctively lower their voices.
Ming Yue introduced him first.
"My first disciple, Jun Wusheng, Daoist title Silent Heaven."
Jun Wusheng cupped his fists toward Li Ling with a calm expression.
"Fifth Junior Brother."
Li Ling returned the gesture. "First Senior Brother."
The second was a woman who looked about twenty-eight, with Seventh Realm middle-stage cultivation, long crimson hair braided with black-gold thread, sharp eyes, and customized robes of white, red, and dark gold that carried the image of a six-winged Asura queen across the back.
She smiled at Li Ling in a way that was neither friendly nor hostile, but unmistakably interested.
"My second disciple, Xue Jiuling, Daoist title Blood Empress," Ming Yue said.
Xue Jiuling’s gaze moved over Li Ling’s new robes and lingered on the Asura motif.
"Fifth Junior Brother, it seems Master has finally brought in someone who understands the value of making a mess."
Li Ling smiled. "Second Senior Sister, I only make messes when they are profitable."
Her smile widened. "Even better."
The third was a man who looked about twenty-five, with Seventh Realm early-stage cultivation, pale skin, silver hair, lazy eyes, and customized robes of white, violet, and ghostly blue, with the six-path wheel half-hidden behind patterns of clouds and underworld mist.
He looked like someone who had just woken up from a nap and was already tired of being alive.
"My third disciple, Gu Qingsi, Daoist title Dream Ghost."
Gu Qingsi yawned lightly, then cupped his fists.
"Fifth Junior Brother. Try not to die too soon. Master’s disciples are troublesome to replace."
Li Ling chuckled. "Third Senior Brother, I will do my best to inconvenience everyone for a long time."
Gu Qingsi nodded with faint approval. "Good attitude."
The fourth was a young woman who looked no older than twenty, with Sixth Realm peak cultivation, bright green eyes, hair that shifted between black and emerald depending on the light, and customized robes of white, green, and silver that seemed partly woven from living vines, beast fur, and spider silk.
She was the youngest-looking among the four, but her aura was strangely complete, as if several different lifeforms were sleeping inside her body.
"My fourth disciple, Mu Qingya, Daoist title Myriad Beast Saintess."
Mu Qingya looked at Li Ling with open curiosity.
"So you’re the new junior brother who made the lower layer so noisy. I watched the recording of your final attack. It was very rude, very excessive, and very entertaining."
Li Ling cupped his fists. "Fourth Senior Sister flatters me."
"I wasn’t flattering you. I was criticizing you," Mu Qingya said seriously.
Li Ling paused, then smiled. "Then your criticism has been duly received."
"Hmm, I should hope so, for your sake," she replied dismissively.
The greetings were simple and formal, but Li Ling could sense it.
Each of them had their own thoughts.
Jun Wusheng’s gaze was calm, but within that calm was measurement, as if he was weighing whether Li Ling would become a useful junior brother or a future demonic calamity.
Xue Jiuling clearly liked his cruelty, but liking a person’s cruelty in a demonic sect did not mean affection. It could just as easily mean she wanted to see whether that cruelty could one day be aimed for her benefit.
Gu Qingsi seemed lazy, but his eyes were too still. That kind of stillness usually belonged either to corpses or to people who had already dreamed through too many killing methods to be surprised by ordinary madness.
As for Mu Qingya, her antagonization was the most direct, but also perhaps the most dangerous, because such hostility often led to fatal outcomes.
Still, Li Ling did not dislike them.
At least they were all interesting.
Ming Yue watched the brief exchange with satisfaction.
"From today onward, Li Ling is your fifth junior brother. Whether you like him, dislike him, fear him, envy him, or wish to use him, remember one thing."
His golden eyes swept over the four.
"He is mine."
The words were soft, but the meaning was not.
The four personal disciples cupped their fists at once.
"Yes, Master."
Li Ling’s eyes flickered slightly.
Well well, this master of his was quite direct.
The atmosphere seemed to relax slightly after this.
The ceremony had been completed, the token had been replaced, the robes had been bestowed, and the senior siblings had been introduced.
By all logic, this grand formal scene should have ended here.
Of course, in Li Ling’s experience, the moment one thought a scene should end was usually when some nonsense would appear.
And indeed, nonsense appeared.
Without warning, the space above Li Ling’s head collapsed inward.
There was no buildup, no killing intent, no formation alarm, nor any thunderous roar from afar.
One moment, the Ancestral Hall was calm, and the next moment, an enormous palm emerged from the void and struck downward.
It was a noble, radiant, flawless palm that seemed carved from immortal jade and wrapped in resplendent light, descending toward Li Ling with such casual indifference that it felt less like an attack and more like someone swatting a fly.
Along with it came a cold harrumph.
"Hmph!"
That was all, just that one sound.
Yet the moment it echoed through the hall, the faces of the True Inheritors changed as the Grand Elders shot to their feet.
Zhen Xueren’s scarlet river erupted beneath her throne.
Ming Yue’s four disciples all moved at once, their expressions changing greatly.
As for Li Ling, his pupils constricted.
For the first time in a long time, death arrived so quickly that even his thoughts could not fully form before it was already above him.
There was no dodging, no resisting, no Void Step, no Restoration Spell, no Chaos Barrier... nothing.
The gap was too large.
It was like asking a drawing on paper to resist the hand of the artist tearing the page.
At that instant, Ming Yue moved.
The Sect Master’s smile vanished.
His golden eyes became cold, and the six-colored wheel behind his throne exploded with light as he raised one hand and pressed upward.
BOOOOOOM!
The entire Ancestral Hall shook.
The collision between Ming Yue’s power and the descending palm did not spread outward as a normal shockwave, because if it had, Li Ling suspected that everyone beneath the seventh realm in the surrounding planes would have turned into spiritual mist.
Instead, the impact folded into the space above him, twisting reality into layers upon layers of compressed force.
For one instant, Li Ling saw six paths rotating.
Then he saw nothing but white.
When his vision returned, the palm had been stopped, but barely.
Ming Yue stood before his throne with one hand raised, his robes fluttering violently, golden eyes cold and focused.
The huge palm in the void pressed down for another breath, as if testing whether it could crush through him.
Then, with another cold harrumph, it withdrew.
The void sealed itself and silence fell.
It was a silence so heavy that even breathing felt like an offense.
Then, Li Ling saw it.
Ming Yue’s face had turned pale, pale enough that everyone in the hall understood one thing.
That casual strike had not been easy to block.
The Sect Master of the Six Paths Demon Sect, a peak eighth-realm existence who sat above seventy-one high-level monsters, had actually been forced into visible strain by a casual palm.
What kind of monster was this?
The answer came in the next breath.
The space in front of the central throne distorted, and a figure slowly stepped out.
He was an elder, but not in the decayed sense.
Rather, he looked like the idealized image of an immortal patriarch, with long silver-white hair flowing behind him, sharp golden-red eyes, skin as smooth as jade despite the ancient aura around him, and a bearing so noble and resplendent that even Ming Yue’s grandeur seemed younger in his presence.
He wore robes of white, gold, red, black, green, and violet, but unlike the sect’s usual colors where one path dominated and the rest supported it, all six colors existed in perfect harmony around him.
The six paths were not rotating behind him, they seemed to be rotating within him.
The moment he appeared, every formation in the Ancestral Hall froze.
Then, seemingly bowed obediently, their light lowered, their pressure vanished, and their structure bent inward as if acknowledging a higher authority.
For half a breath, no one spoke.
Then a shocked voice rang out from somewhere among the True Inheritors.
"It’s the Ancestor!"
The entire hall erupted with shock.
True Inheritors quickly lowered their heads while the Grand Elders rose to their feet and hurriedly cupped their fists.
Ming Yue himself lowered his raised hand and turned toward the elder, his pale face settling into a complicated expression.
"Ancestor."
Li Ling stood where he was, heart calm only because the crisis had already passed.
But inside, he could not help but feel a strange amusement.
Good.
Very good.
He had just become a personal disciple, changed tokens, received new robes, met his senior siblings, and before he could even enjoy the status properly, an old monster who could make Ming Yue go pale had tried to swat him to death.
Indeed, the upper layer was already becoming interesting.
The Ancestor’s golden-red eyes shifted slowly and landed on Li Ling.
He only looked at him, yet in that one gaze, Li Ling felt as if his body, soul, spirit, blood, cultivation, karma, past, present, and future had all been placed upon a table.
The elder’s expression remained noble and cold.
Then, he spoke.
"So this is the boy you dared to name Demon Emperor?!"
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