Worship of Ten Thousand Devils

Worship of Ten Thousand Devils . . .

Qin Wentian ventured ever deeper into the ominous heart of the Devil Statue Cliff. The relentless onslaught of devil statues showed no sign of abating, their attacks escalating into a frenzied barrage. With an unwavering resolve, Qin Wentian deflected every assault, pressing forward through the ceaseless storm of malevolence.

At last, he reached a sealed valley, guarded by an army of vigilant devil statues. Gazing upward, he found no glimpse of sky in this otherworldly dimension. It was as though even the heavens dared not impose their dominion upon the realm of devilry. Suspended in the air, a colossal and menacing devil statue loomed like an omnipotent sentinel, its malevolence casting an oppressive pall over the land.

"BOOM!"

Qin Wentian's heart thundered, overwhelmed by the surging tide of devilish qi in the air. Suddenly, the sinister melody that had haunted his thoughts grew louder, and a figure bathed in a bloody, devilish radiance materialized on the stone walls before him. It was a dread-inspiring devil phantom, its eyes fixed on Qin Wentian as if beckoning him to delve into their depths.

As this phantom emerged, the sealed pathway before him unfurled, offering the only route to continue his journey.

The reverberations of the haunting melody persisted, casting an eerie glow upon the towering devil statue. From its visage, a monstrous entity appeared to crawl forth, transforming into a streak of light that hurtled straight at Qin Wentian. As it drew near, a devastating punch was unleashed, piercing through the very fabric of reality.

This punch exuded an unassailable devilish aura capable of subduing and shattering anything in its path.

Astral energy surged fiercely within Qin Wentian's body. His form expanded, spawning numerous incarnations that all unleashed thunderous palm strikes, each imbued with enough power to wrest constellations from the heavens.

Explosions resonated through the air, yet the monster's fist continued its inexorable approach, impervious to any impediment.

Radiant light enveloped Qin Wentian as he clashed fists with the monstrous entity. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming tide of devilish might seeking to ravage his very organs, seeping into his being.

"BOOM!"

The thunderous impact sent Qin Wentian hurtling backward, coughing up blood. He wiped the traces of crimson from his mouth and reached for the sword sheathed behind him. With a swift, fluid motion, the blade gleamed to life as he grazed his fingers across its surface, staining it crimson. The sword resonated with an eerie hum, and a terrifying tempest of sword qi surged forth as it expanded to its full thousand-meter size. The unleashed power reduced the devil entity before him to naught but dust.

With the demon sword in hand, Qin Wentian pressed on, his eyes fixed on the entrance ahead. A boundless sword intent descended from the heavens, annihilating the devil statues in his path. The devilish melody swelled in intensity, but Qin Wentian's anguished roar cut through the darkness as he swung the gargantuan sword horizontally. A profound force bore down upon everything, reducing every obstacle to fragments. The colossal devil statue raised its massive palms in futile defense, but the demon sword cleaved it into oblivion.

Qin Wentian continued his relentless march, his gaze now fixed on the entrance before him. Within it, he sensed a malevolent presence so potent that it caused his heart to tremble with anticipation. The devil statue here bore an unsettling resemblance to a human, its humanoid features disturbingly lifelike. It was as if this devil had dwelled here for tens of thousands of years, gradually morphing into a statue while retaining its eerie semblance to humanity.

The demon sword shrank to its smaller form once more, and Qin Wentian brandished it as he advanced toward the entrance, crossing the threshold into yet another enigmatic dimension. In that very instant, his gaze locked onto an ominous revelation, and his heart raced with trepidation.

Amidst the Devil Statue Cliff's shadowy abyss, an endless, malevolent melody reverberated through the air, evoking shivers that traveled down one's very soul. A colossal devilish light, a fusion of inky black and crimson hues, cast an eerie illumination upon this central core of the Devil Statue Cliff. Millions of statues adorned the surroundings, each radiating ethereal beams of light that converged upon a central sacrificial altar.

"...!" Qin Wentian's heart pounded with intensity. It was as if these statues embarked on a sacred pilgrimage, paying homage to a devil king. In the heart of it all, a crimson beam surged skyward, piercing through the celestial dome and summoning dark rays to descend upon the sacrificial altar.

The altar became entirely ensconced in the crimson radiance, and within it, a vague silhouette of a devil king statue materialized. Surrounding it, countless blood-colored devil phantoms stood sentry, their haunting melody a hymn to the devil king.

In a sudden twist, one of the blood-hued phantoms turned its gaze, seizing control over Qin Wentian's very being. A malevolent devilish might bore into his sea of consciousness.

"Bzzz!"

As the devil phantom made its move, Qin Wentian found himself trapped in a nightmarish reverie. This blood-soaked realm was saturated with nothing but devilish intent. A formidable blood-colored palm imprint slammed into him, sending him sprawling and causing blood to gush from his lips.

"Is this a celestial phenomenon?" Qin Wentian pondered, his sense of helplessness palpable. Deep within the Devil Statue Cliff, an unfathomable force lay concealed. The statues, it seemed, were all contributing sacrificial offerings in an attempt to summon something of great power.

Lying on the ground, Qin Wentian's gaze fixed upon the blood-hued light in the heavens. Its radiance bore a resemblance to the glow of a Celestial Phenomenon Ascendant's constellation. In this moment, a bloodied blade materialized, hurtling with blinding speed and devastating force toward his heart. Qin Wentian could only resign himself, lacking the ability to evade the fatal strike.

"Puchi..." The devil blade plunged into him, his life essence spilling forth. Qin Wentian's pallor drained, his earlier ambitions and hopes of finding Bai Qing or seeking vengeance suddenly dwarfed by the realization that he was not as powerful as he had believed. In this world, he was confronted by forces far mightier than himself.

A fiery determination ignited within Qin Wentian, growing ever more resolute. Yet, he knew that his death was imminent. He could only entrust his unfulfilled aspirations to Di Tian.

His lifeblood painted the ground beneath him, crimson against the dark backdrop. As his consciousness waned and his vision blurred, he couldn't help but notice that the blood staining the earth refused to dry. Instead, it seemed to possess a life of its own, flowing back into his body, nourishing his heart, and preserving his tenuous lifeforce.

"Why am I still alive?" Amidst the haze of his consciousness, Qin Wentian pondered this question. The white flame within his heart flared anew, and it possessed the miraculous ability to safeguard his life, even against a direct assault on his heart.

But these were different wounds. The devil blade embedded within him unleashed a corrosive force, threatening to devour his heart and extinguish his life. The white flame battled against the sword's malevolence, a fierce confrontation that endured for what seemed like an eternity. Strangely, no one at the sacrificial altar appeared to notice him, as if they remained engrossed in an ancient rite.

Several days passed, marked by the gradual dissipation of the haunting melody. Silence reclaimed the space, and Qin Wentian sensed that he was still alive. In fact, someone seemed to have removed the blade from his heart.

He struggled to regain consciousness, yearning to gain a clear view of his surroundings. Faintly, he discerned a blurry figure by his side.

A figure shrouded in sinister black devil armor loomed over Qin Wentian, her aura radiating sheer terror. Her countenance bore an eerie mix of familiarity and beauty, yet beneath her visage lurked traces of malevolent intent, as if she were the direct descendant of a devil king.

Next, Qin Wentian experienced the sensation of her lithe form against his own as she effortlessly raised him up and whisked him away. Her black devil armor melded seamlessly with her body, creating a sensation as though there were no barriers between their flesh. Despite its slim profile, the armor exuded an overwhelming sense of grandeur.

Suddenly, Qin Wentian found himself airborne, the world around him resembling a dream—ethereal and surreal.

As he gradually roused from this enigmatic reverie, Qin Wentian struggled to pry open his heavy eyelids. Blinded by the brilliant sunlight, he squinted and blinked repeatedly in an attempt to adjust to the radiance.

Above, the azure skies stretched out, adorned by beautiful white clouds, and the haunting devilish melody had ceased.

Whispers and laughter reached his ears, and someone jestingly remarked, "Did this guy get so frightened that he knocked himself out before even setting foot in the Devil Statue Cliff?"

"The Devil Statue Cliff!" Qin Wentian bolted upright, his heart hammering violently. He scanned his own battered form, his robes torn and frayed, bearing the evidence of numerous wounds. Yet, the wound that had pierced his heart had miraculously healed. Qin Wentian understood that his formidable bloodline harbored an incredible regenerative power.

Turning his attention to his side, he beheld the demon sword lying in repose. It now appeared as an ordinary sword, devoid of any peculiarities.

"What transpired?" Qin Wentian murmured, struggling to distinguish between reality and the dreamlike state that had enveloped him. Nevertheless, he knew with certainty that what had occurred within the Devil Statue Cliff was no mere dream.

Who was that elusive silhouette that had come to his aid? Had it been her?

Gently, Qin Wentian reached up to touch his face, as though he could still feel the traces of tears that had been shed... perhaps by that mysterious woman who had intervened.

With determination, Qin Wentian lifted the demon sword and rose to his feet, his gaze fixed upon the path before him. He stood at the entrance of the Devil Statue Cliff, having seemingly been expelled from within.

In this desolate realm, a harsh wind swept through, billowing what remained of his tattered robes. He stared up at the white clouds that floated above the Devil Statue Cliff, their tranquil appearance in stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions surging within him. His thoughts returned to the events before he had lost consciousness.

A towering devil statue suspended in mid-air, emitting a radiant beam that pierced the heavens. Whence had this phenomenon arisen?

"Little Qing, was it you?"

Qin Wentian's voice trembled, his mind still awash with the hazy image of that black-robed figure—so gentle, so tender. The warmth that emanated from those eyes, though obscured by the fog of his fading memories, felt unmistakably familiar. Could it be Bai Qing? His heart ached at the uncertainty.

But dwelling on this was futile; he lacked the strength for another attempt at breaching the ominous threshold of the Devil Statue Cliff. The sacrificial altar's vicinity was a realm he couldn't contend with; the devil phantoms there were beyond his power to resist.

"You must know what transpired," Qin Wentian muttered, addressing the silent demon sword resting before him.

The demon sword remained mute, its lusterless blade reflecting its unyielding promise not to offer its strength willingly. It would stand as a witness, only intervening if Qin Wentian achieved what he had vowed.

"Is this guy speaking to his sword?" A young woman quizzically glanced at the man standing next to her. She regarded Qin Wentian with an odd mix of curiosity and amusement.

"He might be too terrified to think straight," a young man quipped, a smirk dancing on his lips. The group of youthful onlookers exchanged mocking glances, taking pity on the disheveled figure before them and treating him like a befuddled fool.

Unperturbed, Qin Wentian seemed deaf to their taunts. Suddenly, a dazzling radiance erupted from his body, soaring into the heavens. Within moments, the brilliance enveloped him completely, and he swiftly changed into a fresh set of clothing. His gaze, however, remained fixed on the foreboding Devil Statue Cliff. A sigh escaped his lips as he could do nothing more than hope that Bai Qing remained safe and unharmed.

Then, as if summoned by his will, a void boat materialized before him. Stepping onto it, Qin Wentian soared through the air, disappearing into the void.

The bystanders watched in stunned silence, their mouths agape. The terrifying aura that had briefly enveloped him sent shivers down their spines. They realized that, in that fleeting moment, he could have effortlessly extinguished their lives with a mere thought. The inexplicable power he had exhibited left them pale and drenched in cold sweat, and they watched his departure with a newfound respect for the enigmatic young man.