Chapter Forty-One: The Punishment of the Lash!

Yang Nan selected these three peerless formations, each designed for cunning and sinister stratagems, and at last a faint smile appeared on his face. Not far away, Cheng Yang was still poring over a pile of ancient tomes, searching with all his might. Suddenly, he raised a scroll high and shouted, “Martial Uncle, Martial Uncle, come quickly and look at these two formations—they’re special formations as well!”

Seeing Cheng Yang working so earnestly, Yang Nan felt a twinge of sympathy for the hardships of outer sect disciples. To curry favor with their elders, they would exhaust every possible effort. He walked over, received the two special formations from Cheng Yang, and his eyes immediately lit up.

The Myriad Demons Convergence Formation and the Dark Nether Yin Fiend Array! Remarkably, these two were the rarest formations that drew upon the power of demons and spirits. “Such formations exist even in the Sutra Repository?” Yang Nan wondered as he read the descriptions. Only then did he understand the considerable flaws behind their intimidating power.

The Myriad Demons Convergence Formation cloaks the land in demonic clouds, harnessing the strength of ten thousand demons to empower a single person. The formation is fierce and domineering, but after their power is drawn, most demon soldiers are drained and perish. Though its might is immense, where would a cultivator find an endless supply of demon soldiers? And what demon would willingly die for their master?

This formation, therefore, was a thankless tool. Neither cultivator nor demon soldier would wish to use it.

The Dark Nether Yin Fiend Array requires countless ghost soldiers to be refined into one hundred and eight Yin Spirits, which serve as formation flags. Once arranged, the formation greatly augments the cultivator’s power—the stronger the Yin Spirits, the greater the support. However, refining one hundred and eight Yin Spirits demands innumerable vengeful souls, and the longer the array is maintained, the more powerful the heart demons become. Should the master lose control over the Yin Spirits, they would be devoured in turn, with consequences too dire to contemplate.

Though the Myriad Demons Convergence Formation was more effective than the Supreme Demon Body technique, it was also more bloody and cruel—Yang Nan would never use it. The Dark Nether Yin Fiend Array, for all its power, was nearly impossible for him to complete, for he had not yet reached the Grandmaster realm, and could not control such formidable Yin Spirits. Even with the Soul-Condensing and Spirit-Turning Technique, it would be useless.

These two formations might be of no immediate use, but Yang Nan committed them to memory nonetheless. He looked up at Cheng Yang, who was beaming, and said, “Thank you. I may not be able to use these formations now, but it’s worth collecting them—perhaps one day they’ll be of use.”

Cheng Yang was overjoyed and pointed ahead. “Martial Uncle, let’s go look at the Artifact Refining section as well. There you’ll find the Kunlun Compendium of Wonders and the Thirty-Six True Methods of Ritual Refinement—the finest manuals on artifact forging and the rarest treasures of the world. Even on the Skill Repository Peak, their texts are much the same.”

Yang Nan nodded. Artifact refining depended on cultivation and experience—the techniques were largely similar, but differing powers and materials produced vastly different results. These two books were universally useful. The Kunlun Compendium of Wonders catalogued every kind of spiritual stone, iron, herb, and rare treasure known to the world. If it existed, it would be found in that compendium—a veritable encyclopedia of all things.

Following Cheng Yang’s suggestion, Yang Nan used his spiritual sense to memorize both texts. The Thirty-Six True Methods of Ritual Refinement were simply thirty-six techniques of artifact forging, but the Kunlun Compendium of Wonders was so vast he expended considerable energy to commit it to memory.

With everything finished, there was nothing else here that could catch Yang Nan’s eye. He stepped outside, grateful for Cheng Yang’s familiarity with this place. Smiling faintly, Yang Nan said, “If you ever choose to leave your post here, come to work at my Spirit Beast Mountain. I’ll take my leave now—until we meet again.” Cheng Yang had been so industrious, it would be remiss not to reward him.

Cheng Yang was thrilled. This Martial Uncle was now famous throughout Kunlun, not only the steward of a peak, but also the youngest inner sect disciple. Following him would surely open up a world of opportunities. All his efforts had been for this very moment...

Yang Nan mounted his artifact weapon and flew to where the disciples practiced. On Azure Luan Peak, some concocted pills, others honed their martial skills; in every hall, disciples came and went in lively throngs. Yang Nan landed outside a martial hall, where a group of disciples were diligently practicing with sabers, spears, and swords—some fierce and forceful, others nimble and graceful, some with swirling gales, others with roars like dragons and tigers.

Here, one could become accomplished in alchemy, formations, talismans, or martial arts. The martial skills taught to Kunlun disciples were all of the highest order, and though different from Daoist arts, possessed their own unique charm.

Watching the imposing figure of the disciples at their drills, Yang Nan nodded inwardly. Kunlun had countless registered disciples, and even becoming one required a steadfast heart—otherwise, they’d never pass the Immortal-Seeking Path. After training in martial skills at Kunlun, even those who entered the mundane world could serve the court and earn a position, no wonder so many sought to learn here. There were few who entered the Dao through martial arts, but they existed—though martial skills still paled before Daoist arts.

Thousands of registered disciples had passed through Kunlun over the ages—making it a formidable force in the world.

Most would never advance beyond registered disciple; becoming an outer sect disciple required not only Dao bones, but also great fortune.

Yang Nan wandered through the various halls and came upon a crowd outside the Pill Hall. There, Hun Yuan was arguing hotly with someone, seemingly on the verge of a fight. Yang Nan frowned, stepped forward, and barked, “Hun Yuan! I ordered you to select men—what are you doing, quarreling here?”

When the crowd saw a Martial Uncle approach, they quickly stepped aside. Hun Yuan brushed off the man’s hand and bowed to Yang Nan. “Martial Uncle, I was simply selecting men, when this fellow began spouting nonsense—saying things like, ‘Yang Nan will soon have to give up his position,’ and ‘He’s just a snot-nosed brat, unfit to be in charge’—such wild talk! I was so enraged that I started to fight him.”

Hun Yuan’s clothes were askew and his hair disheveled—he truly looked ready for a brawl. However, he was wrestling with several men at once and had evidently come off worse.

Seeing Hun Yuan had not truly fought, only wrestled in anger, Yang Nan nodded and turned a cold smile on the young outer sect disciple. “Who are you? Daring to speak such insolence—did your senior sister teach you to show no respect for your elders?”

The youth saw the killing intent in this Martial Uncle’s eyes and shrank back, wordless, wanting only to flee. Yang Nan flicked a finger and a chain of blue water shot out, binding the disciple’s legs fast. He struggled with all his might, but his power was nothing compared to Yang Nan’s—there was no escape.

Yang Nan waved his hand, and delivered several slaps across the young man’s face from a distance, splitting his lips and drawing blood. Then, he lifted him into the air and lashed him several times with a whip formed of water. The outer disciple dared not resist; Yang Nan’s power was too great—after a few blows, the disciple howled and wailed in agony.

His flesh split open in bloody patches, like the mouths of infants.

The crowd of disciples were shaken by the ferocity of this Martial Uncle, their hearts filled with dread. Yang Nan turned and grinned grimly at them. “Who else said such things just now?”

His murderous intent surged. Since entering Kunlun, he had been constantly suppressed—even these outer sect disciples dared to slander him. If he did not assert himself, how would he ever establish a foothold here?

Be kind, and others will ride you; be fierce, and they will fear you. Better to be infamous than to bear a useless reputation for benevolence.

Hun Yuan, seeing his Martial Uncle’s anger, pointed out several of the disciples from the crowd. The rest retreated hastily, leaving the accused standing alone.

Yang Nan glanced over and saw that among the seven or eight, there were Fang Sheng, Li Guo, and three others—so it was the Li clan’s doing once again! He had no intention of tolerating them any longer; now that things had come to this, he would be ruthless. With his current status, the Kunlun sect leader would hardly let some Elder Changxu bully him.

If even the likes of Li Yun and other inner disciples came, Yang Nan would not be afraid.

“So, it’s you lot? Did your parents not teach you respect for your elders? Is Kunlun a place where hierarchy means nothing?” Yang Nan’s tone grew ever more frigid, almost to the point of freezing.

Li Guo’s face flushed red, then pale. He had only meant to humiliate Yang Nan a little, never expecting the man himself to appear. If he spoke up, he’d be confirming his own guilt; if he stayed silent, he’d feel utterly humiliated.

There was no way to deny it; so many disciples had heard it clearly—how could he silence all those mouths?

Yang Nan observed Li Guo’s inner turmoil. Although the youth’s character had improved, his nature was unchanged—proud as ever, he would not submit to humiliation.

“Brave enough to speak, but not to own up? No wonder you can only slander your elders behind their backs. Useless weaklings—how dare you boast? Hun Yuan, let’s go!” Yang Nan laughed coldly. Hun Yuan, adding fuel to the fire, spat, “Spineless wretches, only daring to scheme in the shadows! Such people aren’t worthy of being Kunlun disciples—they should go home and mind the babies! Bah!”

With Hun Yuan’s goading, Li Guo’s face turned crimson. He roared, “Yang Nan, who do you think you are? You only rose because of the Xuan Yan Divine Sword! I said what I said—so what? You’re not fit to lead Spirit Beast Mountain, or to be an inner sect disciple!”

At this, Yang Nan turned with a smile, nodding. “Ah, now that’s a man. I didn’t expect the Li family to produce someone with backbone—I must look at you in a new light.”

Though he smiled, the expression sent chills down everyone’s spine.

Fang Sheng and the other disciples groaned inwardly. Li Guo’s outburst hadn’t just doomed himself, but them as well…

Buzz—!

Yang Nan’s Black Serpent artifact shot forth like a monstrous serpent poised to devour. Its scales flared and gleamed with a cold, menacing light.

“Li Guo, since you say I am unfit, let’s see how much you’ve improved since the mountain gate test. If you defeat me, I’ll destroy my own cultivation and leave Kunlun at once—how about it?” Weapon in hand, Yang Nan looked at Li Guo with undisguised disdain.

“Li Guo, don’t you dare fight back! Not if you value your life!” Fang Sheng was no fool; seeing Yang Nan draw his weapon but not attack, he immediately understood the trap. Disrespecting one’s elders was a minor offense—at worst, a few slaps as punishment. But to draw weapons in response was to challenge and attempt to harm one’s master—a crime so grave that even Elder Changxu could only see Li Guo’s soul destroyed.

Insulting an elder was a minor transgression.

Attempting to kill one’s master was an unforgivable crime.

The difference between the two was as vast as heaven and earth.

Li Guo was no fool, only too proud for his own good. At Fang Sheng’s warning, his fury faded, replaced by regret. “If I’d known Yang Nan was so cunning, I’d never have fallen into his trap so easily…”

Yang Nan was disappointed. The power of seniority was suffocating; he’d hoped Li Guo would strike first, giving him an excuse to destroy the Li disciples one by one. With his Supreme Demon Body and the Roc King’s help, what difficulty would that be?

If Li Guo dared attack, today would be his last.

“So, the Li family isn’t entirely witless,” Yang Nan thought. Still, he did not relent, and his hands moved through the air.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“For disrespecting elders, ten slaps!”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“For slandering your superiors, ten lashes!” Yang Nan gave each disciple ten resounding slaps, and lashed them ten times with his water whip.

Ten slaps left their faces swollen and bloodied; ten lashes tore their flesh and left them bleeding.

Their faces puffed grotesquely, bodies battered and bloodied—a terrifying sight. After the punishment, Yang Nan withdrew his hand, sneered, and said, “Well? Do you submit now?”