The Demon Immortals Are Obsessed

Sprawled out in lazy comfort, snacking on spirit fruit — for me, that was simply daily life.

"So what even is this thing? I thought it was supposed to be just a watery peach?"

Granted, every time I ate one, I did feel some vague surge of vitality.

The reaction was anything but ordinary. Was this thing really so precious? ...Come to think of it, what realm was this one at again?

"Tch."

Damn meritocracy. In any case, Demon Immortal Sunlight's realm was evidently leagues above mine.

The answer came instantly.

Purple Heart Grass Fruit?

Judging by the thread, it was a fruit the others had at least heard tell of. After a short wait, Sunlight replied.

It was that rare?

I kept right on munching. If it was that good, then it belonged in my stomach. There was plenty of spirit fruit to go around anyway, and the trees grew them back almost as soon as I finished them off. There was nothing to ration.

Just as 178.1 said, that was the very thing I wanted to know. Fine — rare, got it. But what did it actually do?

Slaughter poison?

Why on earth were they all so desperate? On reflection, though, they had every reason to be.

Demon immortals and cultivators who walk the Dao cannot avoid taking lives, willing or not. Beast or human makes little difference: the more you kill, the hotter your killing intent burns, and that intent soon curdles into slaughter poison, layering itself through the body.

By then, I understood them perfectly.

Come to think of it, didn't the archetypal xianxia protagonist once have an arc where his killing intent ran so wild he went hunting for some technique to suppress it?

It was a plot point straight out of the work they call the textbook of the genre, so I could be sure of it.

Anyway.

"So what happens when the poison piles up and there's nothing to be done about it?"

A search for slaughter poison on Yoseonbang turned up a whole crop of posts.

"And what on earth is a Grand Heavenly Extermination Tribulation?"

I looked it up: a heavenly tribulation of ascension so unspeakably, absurdly powerful that — going by the record — not one demon beast had ever been known to survive it.

For most beasts, far more die beneath a tribulation than ever die of old age.

Humans and beasts were never the same to begin with.

The tribulations aimed at them were of another caliber altogether. A demon beast may live without fearing a thing in this world — save exactly one: the tribulation that guards ascension. Unlike humans, a beast throws ascension itself into disarray by its mere existence. Simply staying alive draws down ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heaven's wrath.

"Talk about getting a raw deal."

Which meant that even an ordinary tribulation might kill a beast outright — and with slaughter poison on the books, ascension would take one look and go: Oh? You've been killing? Adding a charge of insolence, then. — before dropping a Grand Extermination that would tear you limb from limb. The end.

Just imagining it made my haunches prickle and my scales rattle.

You could always ask: then simply don't kill —

"A demon beast's life doesn't allow that."

Human cultivators will pick a fight with you for the crime of standing still. That's a beast's life. And it isn't only humans, either — beast hunts beast just the same. If anything, a beast has less mercy in it than any human ever would.

When humans kill one another, they watch their step and scheme for the backstab; a beast, upon meeting you, simply opens with its fists. Who are you? What are you supposed to be? — and the first sucker-punch flies. Evenly matched? Okay, you're decently strong. — and each goes their way. Weaker? This idiot's lost its damn mind. — and it eats you.

On Yoseonbang they look gentle only because all you ever see is text. Meet one in the flesh and you'd be skinned before hello — eyes gouged out, inner core harvested, bones sorted into dharma implements and elixir stock. A foregone conclusion.

Not one soul in this world worth trusting. That is the life of a demon beast.

"Anyway. So this is a fruit that scrubs away that slaughter poison?"

The immortals, already running hot, began burying my post beneath a monstrous heap of replies.

For them, the Purple Heart Grass Fruit was a lifeline — a rope thrown to the half-drowned. Refining it into an elixir beat eating it raw, of course, but no one drowning worries about form.

Sprawled where I lay, I turned my head, taking stock of my home.

Every spirit tree in my eastern region bore a different fruit — and one of them had turned out to be the Purple Heart Grass Fruit. Sweeter than a peach and twice as good, so I'd eaten through most of them; only five remained. There were other fruits too, true... but better to space out my little reveals.

One post, and the whole forum was in an uproar over it. Even I could take a hint at this point.

This place was my home — and every spirit tree in the eastern region where I hatched was no ordinary thing. Post them all to Yoseonbang, one by one, and the immortals' appetites would start to wake. What is that creature, that it's sitting on treasures like that? Where do you live? My divination says you're off that way — shall we drop in? — and then they might well come calling to roast a certain gyo-dragon over a fire.

"Going by all the inter-realm chatter, odds are it's a different lower realm... but you never know. Right. Right! Absolutely not."

The world of xianxia held three thousand Great Daos. The paths branching from them were endless, and it was a world overrun with arts that defied reason. Who was to say no one could hunt me down with some secret art or demon sorcery I'd never heard of? Who was to say no one would spend a slice of their own life to fuel a forbidden technique? Advertising that you carried something precious was a habit to avoid.

"Still... I'll try selling just the one, for now."

I'd struck the spark already; parting with one or two had to fall within the margins of safety.

The replies came at once.

The response burned hotter than I'd ever imagined — overwhelming, honestly. Hot enough that a stray thought kept needling me: what if one of these worked-up elders decided to come and find me?

"Oh, forget it... when in doubt, an auction is the answer."

So long as I had spirit stones, I could see to my own cultivation well enough on my own.

Ding.

With the registration chime, I set to browsing the Pavilion. Why didn't I know Yoseonbang had an exchange? I poked around and found it was a section that only unlocked once you reached the Demon Realm. Not that demon transformation was on the table regardless — my divine sense and demonic energy could never have backed it, so I'd never have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠managed it in person anyway.

"Well, that explains that. Guess I'll just browse, then."

Window-shopping cost nothing. It burned only divine sense and demonic energy — and since rising to the Demon Realm, my divine sense had long since swelled past forty sheets' worth.

Swipe, swipe. I browsed on, but nothing really grabbed me. Grand as all the wares were, none of them quite fit me.

The Thousand-Li Wind-Thunder Wing I could probably handle at Third Realm — the flaw was the essence blood. Unlike demonic energy, essence blood did not replenish easily; drain it deep and your vitality withered along with it, and if it never came back, the aftereffects could shadow you for life.

Think of it as a spare life held in reserve and it's not a bad buy... but let me look around more.

Still, however long I looked, nothing suitable turned up. The honest answer was that I lacked the eye to tell treasure from trinket. I shut the Pavilion, flopped flat, and set to brooding.

"So... going outside is the right call, first thing."

My eastern region was safe, and stocked with spirit fruit and food enough to eat for a century without tiring — but I had hit a bottleneck on it. With cultivation stalled, this was the moment to step out, broaden my horizons, and stock up on knowledge of the wider world.

Buying demon arts off Yoseonbang to train isn't a bad plan either... but I can't hole up in this place forever. Frightened as I was, cultivation demanded I go out eventually. And oddly enough, though no tribulation had come even after I rose to the Demon Realm, a feeling was creeping over me — call it a premonition. Soon, I would face the demon beast's very first heavenly tribulation. The First Tribulation.

Take a tribulation unprepared, and not just this body but my inner core would suffer for it. A beast with a damaged inner core can die on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spot — and if that happened, with my current skill there would be no surviving it.

However well-versed I might be in xianxia, I hardly knew a thing about demon beasts themselves.

A path of cultivation unlike any human's. I had become a creature with a wholly different physiology, so this was homework I genuinely had to do. Yoseonbang didn't cover those basics. Even with help on hand, there would be parts I had to dig out on my own. In the end, leaving the eastern region was unavoidable — and on that point, there was no twist in the tale.

"Then I'd better prepare."

I opened the Pavilion again. The moment I fed it divine sense, I could watch the auction I'd listed slowly winding down.

"Even if the immortals tripped over themselves, it can't have climbed that high. I opened the bidding at one high-grade stone, so... at least fifty. No — thirty, maybe."

Huh?

That thought of mine was sheer arrogance.

So this HateHumans creature... just how many people had it slaughtered?

But three hundred and thirty high-grade spirit stones! The corners of my mouth kept creeping upward, entirely without my permission.