Chapter Eleven: Official Duties

Yang Nan returned to the heart of Black Cloud Peak. As soon as he arrived, Commander Xia hurried over to greet him, saying, “Young master, you’ve been away for several days. During your absence, a senior brother came from the main hall seeking you.”

Yang Nan looked surprised. “Senior brother? What did he want with me?”

Commander Xia shrank his neck, his tone hesitant. “I’m not sure, but it sounded like something about duty assignments. Oh, right—he said you should visit Purple Qi Peak in the next few days.”

Duty assignments? At the mention of this, Yang Nan immediately understood. After a year at Kunlun, it was time for him, as an inner disciple, to be given an official post. No matter what the sect leader intended, they couldn’t just leave an inner disciple of his standing languishing in obscurity on a remote mountain, could they?

Even if he was deemed an unworthy inner disciple, he was still one in name. To leave him idle like this—what would others think?

The warning from the White Crane Child had barely faded from his ears, and now he was being summoned for duty? A cold smile flickered across Yang Nan’s lips, and a chill glinted in his eyes as he gazed upon the towering peaks of Kunlun.

He briefly examined the newly acquired Underworld Soldier Devouring Heaven Manual, then turned his attention to the Threefold Divine Sword Technique. This supreme art was indeed formidable but extremely difficult to master; even condensing the sword spirit was a struggle, let alone forging the sword body itself. As yet, he possessed neither—so no matter how powerful the technique, it was like a silver-plated spear: impressive to behold, but useless in battle.

A few days later, Yang Nan rode his Yin-Eroding Chariot to Purple Qi Peak. After three years apart, the bearded senior brother greeted him with hearty enthusiasm. “Junior brother, you’ve been secluded in your cave for three years and haven’t even come to visit me. Pity my monkey wine—it’s been aging untouched all this time!” The big-bearded man reeked of wine, as if he spent his days soaking in a vat.

His words were so warm that Yang Nan couldn’t help but smile. “Forgive me, senior brother. My cultivation is shallow. When I first entered the sect, I could only focus on diligent practice. If I spent my days at leisure, I’d bring shame upon us inner disciples.”

The bearded man looked at him meaningfully. “I suppose you’ve already heard some things, haven’t you?”

Yang Nan sensed he had something to say, so he nodded. “I’m new to the sect and unfamiliar with its ways. I must rely on senior brother’s guidance.”

The bearded man sighed. “This time, the rotating elder has issued an order: you are to take charge of the affairs of the Seventy-Two Demon Valleys. Do you know why?”

To be put in charge of a region was a great honor and authority, yet there was no trace of happiness on Hu Yuan’s face.

Yang Nan’s heart skipped a beat—so the White Crane Child’s news was spot on. He replied coolly, “Is there some trouble with the Seventy-Two Demon Valleys?”

A cold sneer played at the bearded man’s lips. “You offended the lineage of Master Changxu when you joined. This time, it was Master Changxu who proposed to the current rotating elder, Yuanxu, that you be sent to quell the Demon Kings of the Seventy-Two Valleys! You must realize, inner disciples are usually at least at the Grandmaster realm, yet you entered with the strength of a mere Soldier. How could the ambitious among us not seize upon this?”

Only now did Yang Nan understand—a single Xuan Flame Sword could not solve every problem. His current standing owed less to the sword and more to Bu Xu’s reputation. Now that they had discovered he had no real connection to Bu Xu, how could they not move to suppress him?

The bearded man continued, “Thus, Masters Changxu, Wangxu, and Taixu jointly petitioned the inner door’s rotating elder, Yuanxu, to send you to the Demon Valleys for tempering. If you can subdue the Seventy-Two Demon Kings, you’ll remain an inner disciple of Kunlun. If you can’t…”

Before he finished, Yang Nan already understood his meaning.

In the Kunlun Sect, senior disciples wielded power; both outer and inner sects had their own senior brothers and sisters, and true successors were assisted by rotating elders in handling major affairs. A command from a rotating elder was as binding as the sect master’s own order.

In other words, many in Kunlun still resented Yang Nan’s entry into the inner sect with such meager strength. The so-called joint petition from the three masters was nothing more than a pretext stirred up by those below.

If he could suppress the Seventy-Two Demon Kings, nothing more would be said. If he failed, he would have to leave the inner sect, return all granted techniques and his cultivation cave, and even the arts he had learned could be retracted—his status would plummet, and his very life might not be spared.

“I never bullied others, but now others dare to bully me!” Fury surged in Yang Nan’s heart; his face turned as cold as ice.

Seeing the fierce light in Yang Nan’s eyes, the bearded man tried to console him. “You need not worry, junior brother. If you’re unwilling, you can go up to White Cloud Peak and ask Master Bu Xu to intervene. Even Master Changxu would not dare truly trouble Bu Xu’s kin.”

The suggestion made Yang Nan smile bitterly to himself. Go beg Bu Xu? Would she even come? The Xuan Flame Sword had already bought him the status of inner disciple, and he had helped her recover with the Rivers and Mountains Ring, the Universe Circlet, the Supreme Demon Body Art, and the Heavenly Origin Clear Void Talisman.

What did Bu Xu still owe him? Nothing! She’d said as much herself—they owed each other nothing now. If he went to her every time he encountered trouble, why should she help? He was nothing to her.

Remembering Bu Xu’s cold and aloof nature, Yang Nan shook his head inwardly. Since entering the sect, Bu Xu’s jade token had long since been taken away by Ren An—if he still had it, perhaps he could ask for help. But now, empty-handed, what could he possibly use to face her?

Whether he wanted to or not, he would have to go to the Demon Valleys.

The vast power of the Li family was bearing down on him—he was no match for them alone.

“Senior brother, I’ll accept this duty. Tell me more about these Seventy-Two Demon Kings.” Countless thoughts raced through Yang Nan’s mind, but in the end, he decided to take on the challenge. Since he was an inner disciple, he must accomplish what the others could, or he would only be handing his enemies a weapon to use against him.

Hu Yuan was puzzled by Yang Nan’s refusal to seek Bu Xu’s help and his willingness to take the risk. But he couldn’t help much in any case—their friendship was not deep enough for confidences. He simply nodded. “Junior brother, come with me. I’ll explain things in detail.”

Yang Nan followed the bearded man into the Hall of Purple Qi, listening as he began to recount all there was to know about the Demon Kings.

The Kunlun Mountains stretched for thousands of miles. Two thousand years ago, the region was crowded with sects and mountain strongholds, and monsters thronged the peaks. Kunlun was but one of many Daoist sects then.

Later, the Demon Star, which appeared once every eight hundred years, streaked across the sky. The Demon Sect took advantage of the chaos in the world’s vital energies and, using an unparalleled demonic formation, summoned thousands of divine demons from the Demon Realm. These beings tore through the seals and invaded the mortal world, launching a full-scale assault on the various sects with the help of the Demon Sect’s top cultivators. The power of the demons was terrifying; many smaller sects were exterminated, and countless common people perished. The cultivation world united to resist them.

The battle raged for centuries, leaving the heavens and earth in turmoil. Many sects were wiped out, and even Kunlun, as one of the main battlefields, suffered terrible losses. But Kunlun’s leader at the time, Patriarch Qingya, was an unparalleled genius—within three hundred years, he had forged the legendary Sword of Forgetting Love and achieved the rank of Saint of Arms, his skills shaking the heavens. In the war between the human and demon realms, he slew countless demons with his sword, earning everlasting renown.

The war between realms dragged on for centuries, leaving the human world’s experts all but extinct, and the demon invaders likewise decimated. In the end, all the demons were slain, the Demon Sect’s strength crippled, and it would not recover for over two thousand years.

Patriarch Qingya’s exploits during this war were unmatched, his fame echoing across the world. Atop Kunlun’s highest peak, he unleashed his supreme powers, merging the three swords of spirit, soul, and essence into one peerless blade. He carved out a territory spanning thousands of miles and declared to all the cultivators of the world: “With this sword, I stake out Kunlun’s domain. If any have objections, face my Sword of Forgetting Love!”

The Sword of Forgetting Love was Qingya’s own soul weapon. Coupled with his unrivaled cultivation, who would dare oppose him?

At these words, no one in the world dared object. They yielded Kunlun, the land where spiritual energy converged, without a murmur.

Hearing these tales of his sect’s forebears, Yang Nan could not help but sigh in admiration. “What divine powers! To settle Kunlun with a sword and benefit future generations—his spirit and ambition are truly awe-inspiring.”

Such was the world of cultivation: strength was everything. If one had the power, even claiming all under heaven would meet no opposition. Though Qingya was domineering, was it not for the sake of his sect’s survival?

Anyone else with his power would have done the same.

The bearded man nodded, his face full of reverence. “Once Qingya had become the world’s foremost cultivator, who would defy him? Thus began Kunlun’s two thousand years of dominance. With the other sects retreating, Kunlun, seat of the ancestral dragon’s land, became the greatest sect under heaven!”

Yang Nan frowned. “But what does this have to do with the Seventy-Two Demon Valleys?”

Hu Yuan sighed. “Patriarch Qingya was not only a Sage of Arms but also the founder of the Beast-Taming Sect. He was passionate about rearing rare beasts and skilled at subduing monsters. The Kunlun Mountains were always home to myriad monsters and spirit beasts. With Qingya’s protection, these creatures took root in the nearby spiritual ranges. Over thousands of years, they absorbed the essence of sun and moon, growing ever stronger. In time, those ranges became the Seventy-Two Demon Valleys.”

The Beast-Taming Sect, a renowned force in the northern lands, was famed for using spirit insects and strange beasts in battle—their power increased with the strength of their companions.

Yang Nan was astounded. So that was the origin of the Demon Valleys? From the bearded man’s tone, it seemed that what had once been closely tied to Kunlun had become a troublesome burden.

The bearded man unfurled a map and pointed to the westernmost, coastal mountain range. “Here is Spirit Beast Mountain, thousands of miles from here—this is where the Demon Valleys lie, at the edge of the Eastern Sea. It’s not truly part of Kunlun’s ley lines. Back then, Patriarch Qingya had a fancy to breed powerful demon soldiers there, hoping to create beasts that could be bound by special arts to serve Kunlun’s disciples for generations, thereby strengthening the sect. He also intended it as a source of spiritual stones and herbs for the disciples.

“It was a wonderful plan. But after Patriarch Qingya’s mysterious disappearance, the technique to control the demon beasts was never completed. Over the next thousand years, the Demon Valleys grew ever more unruly—tributes dwindled year by year, and disputes with the inner disciple in charge became frequent. Were it not for the many experts of Kunlun, those Demon Kings would have rebelled long ago!”