Chapter Thirty-Eight: Divine Weapon

Between heaven and earth, there are countless mystical arts and myriad cultivation methods, yet the paths pursued by most monsters ultimately converge upon mastery of the Thirty-six Heavenly Transformations and the Seventy-two Earthly Arts. Depending on the method, what is learned may differ in fullness. For example, should one master the Eighty-nine Profound Arts, one may acquire all seventy-two Earthly magical abilities; the Six Ren Mystical Techniques comprise the thirty-six Heavenly Transformations, and so on.

Yet there exist rare exceptions, such as the Ten Thousand Demon Codex bestowed by Lady Nuwa. Its upper volume of six chapters imparts the Earthly Arts, the lower six teach the Heavenly Transformations—a grand method encompassing all of creation. Among the demon clans, it is whispered that upon mastering all twelve volumes, one may comprehend the thirteenth, which is the Great Dao itself.

Alas, only the upper volume survives in the world; the lower volume is lost, and Lady Nuwa herself, along with the Five Saints, has ascended to the ninety-ninth heaven and shall not return. Thus, those seeking her tutelage are left without recourse.

Once one attains the second chapter, then the third, then the fourth, and so forth up to the sixth, a total of thirty-two new arts are gained. The six chapters together grant sixty-three transformations, and with fortune or insight, one may naturally grasp the final nine techniques, thus perfecting the upper volume.

This codex is widely known among demons, though few reach the sixth chapter—most falter at the third or fourth, eventually switching to other methods, settling for thirty or forty, perhaps fifty transformations, and resigning themselves.

Six Ugly once inquired about this from Master Deerveil, who laughed heartily and solemnly cautioned him never to shrink from difficulty nor to dabble in other arts. Only by mastering all six chapters would he reach fulfillment; grafting other methods would doom him to mediocrity, ensuring he’d forever be a third-rate monster, destined only for menial tasks even in the heavens, never to rise above.

So Six Ugly etched this into his heart, braving adversity and resisting temptation, until he finally mastered the transformations.

But that is another tale. For now, Six Ugly, having perfected the first chapter, acquired the demon art "Flying Sand." As its name suggests, by gathering sand and earth in his palm and scattering it with a breath, he could conjure a vast sandstorm, obscuring the sky—a formidable tool for escape or ambush.

Surveying the camp at Yanpeng, where many lesser demons dwelt, most still uninitiated, Six Ugly felt delight at his accomplishment. At dawn, he went to report to Master Deerveil, who instructed him to rest for a day, letting his body adjust before resuming, and meanwhile, he himself would visit Master Ghostvalley to reforge Six Ugly’s iron staff into a weapon more fitting.

Upon hearing this, Six Ugly recalled he still kept a black rod within his bottle realm. Now that his strength had greatly increased, the rod he had casually picked up felt light, and he was curious to try the black rod, though he dared not mention it, only offered thanks and bowed repeatedly to his master.

Master Deerveil wasted no time and departed swiftly.

Once Master Deerveil was gone, Six Ugly summoned the black rod from the bottle realm. With some effort, he truly lifted it, and though still heavy, he could now wield it and perform moves, albeit with exertion.

After a few swings, short of breath, he put the rod away and turned his gaze to the desiccated bones nearby. Since he had used the dead’s weapon, he decided to bury the remains in gratitude, thus left the camp. The guards, having received instructions from Corpse Walker Shade, no longer barred his way and let him go deep into the valley.

After some distance, Six Ugly came upon a small mountain with a cave in its side. He found the place suitable and entered, walking dozens of yards to the end, where he dug a pit and buried the bones from the bottle realm.

When finished, he adhered to later customs, bowing thrice to the remains and saying, "Senior, this place suits you well. I leave you here in thanks for gifting me the rod. If you return in another life and wish it back, seek me out."

No sooner had he risen than his ear twitched—he heard a faint sigh from below.

On the day he found the black rod, he had heard such a sound, but after retrieving it, he never heard it again, and was puzzled. Now hearing it once more, he wondered if the bones possessed a spirit unwilling to be buried.

As he pondered, a faint glow appeared on the burial spot, and a shadow emerged from the void, hovering before him.

The apparition resembled an ape, with a flat nose and protruding brow, white-headed and green-bodied, with an unusually long neck—just as ugly as Six Ugly himself. Yet it wore resplendent armor and a crown of primal chaos, exuding majesty, and held the black rod.

The apparition neither looked nor spoke to him, merely like a holographic projection in future tales, and said, "My name is Wu Zhiqi. I am the spirit of Mount Tongbo and the Huai River. After clashing with Great Yu and failing, the Human Emperor Fuxi relocated Mount Tongbo beyond the third heaven, separating me from water, and slaughtered me along with Chipi, Huanhu, Wood Sprite, Water Spirit, Mountain Demon, Stone Monster, and other spirits—a most hateful fate!

After death, my ten thousand demon soldiers’ souls were imprisoned beneath Turtle Mountain at Huaiyin, while I was bound in the Netherworld. I could only sever a wisp of soul, attach it to this weapon, and leave it for future generations.

Since you can hear my voice, you are a descendant of my clan. I bestow this weapon upon you as proof—go and awaken my demon soldiers, command ten thousand to aid my escape, and avenge the blood feud of our clan!"

"This rod is called the Iron Staff of the Heart, weighing thirteen thousand five hundred catties. It can slay gods and demons, obey your will, and assist your ascent to demon king. Come to the Netherworld... come to the Netherworld..."

As the words faded, the apparition gradually vanished.

Six Ugly now realized he had, by chance, acquired such a treasure—not merely a divine weapon but one capable of commanding countless demons. Yet to become a demon king, who knew how long he must wait.

Since the goal was distant, Six Ugly did not dwell on it. He took out the black rod again and found it fit his hand perfectly—not too heavy nor too light. It no longer appeared pitch-black, but gleamed like the night sky, dark yet brilliant, dazzling in its beauty.

Upon its shaft were the words: "Iron Staff of the Heart!"

An unexpected windfall!

Six Ugly practiced with the staff for a while, reluctant to put it away, but faithful to Master Deerveil’s instructions to rest, he refrained from overusing it. Wondering if there was anything to attend to, he decided to find Wu You and see how things stood.

Upon returning to the camp, he found the training ground deserted. Puzzled, he noticed lesser demon soldiers on guard and inquired, discovering that every day, only half a day was spent in instruction; the rest was free time for the lesser demons.

He was about to leave when suddenly a lesser demon called out anxiously, "Six Ugly, something terrible has happened!"

It was the female mouse from the dormitories, gold-nosed and white-furred, who named herself Half-servant. Usually, she followed Wu You as an attendant. Six Ugly, being male, avoided her, but was not unfamiliar. Seeing her panic, a foreboding feeling struck him. "When did this happen?"

"Zan Wulang and his brother injured Wu You!" Half-servant cried. "I was about to seek Corpse Instructor to save her."

Six Ugly’s face darkened. "Where?"

"By the pond on the back slope—the place where Butcher Instructor taught us to drown."

"You find the instructor. I’ll go ahead."

At his first word, Six Ugly had already set out, and by his last, Half-servant could barely hear him.

The pond was close to the camp; before he could stretch, Six Ugly had arrived. There he saw the Wulang brothers coldly leaning against a tree with weapons, and beside them, Wu You lay unconscious and bloody, her clothes torn, revealing a pair of protrusions slightly larger than Six Ugly’s own. Nearby, a weasel demon, jaws dripping with saliva, was aggressively tugging at her trousers.

(It should be noted: the weasel, anciently called "sheng," is the yellow weasel.)

It seemed Wu You was, in fact, a female demon?

Six Ugly’s mind stalled—how had he failed to notice after all this time?

He said nothing, nor needed to, for at his arrival, the weasel’s actions ceased. The weasel grabbed Wu You’s chest, squeezed hard, picked up a short knife, and approached.

The Wulang brothers’ posture did not change, but the hand gripping their weapon tightened.

Six Ugly noticed this—he understood suddenly: this was provocation, a trap.

Hurting Wu You was meant to enrage him, while letting the weaker Half-servant escape was to ensure he knew.

The weasel demon came within five paces, raised his knife, and barked, "Hey, I heard—"

No more was heard. As he uttered his third word, Six Ugly had already burst forward, his fist smashing into the weasel’s skull. The weasel saw a flash of white, then fell into darkness.

To others, the weasel was sent flying, Six Ugly caught his dropped knife, leaped high, and before the weasel began to fall, slashed down, dyeing his crotch red.

"Ah!" The weasel woke painfully from unconsciousness, rolling on the ground, then was struck from behind, sent tumbling into the pond.

Six Ugly threw aside the knife and stood silently, facing the Wulang brothers.

Zan Wulang felt a chill—though a fifth-tier lesser demon, he was suddenly fearful of a fourth-tier, nothing more infuriating. He stood abruptly, walked to stand before Six Ugly—where the weasel had stood—and sized him up, licking his lips.

"I am fifth-tier. And you?"

Zan Wubei brandished his weapon and joined his brother, sneering.

Six Ugly said nothing, but raised his hand and revealed the iron staff, its black light shining.

"Today you seem to lack a partner," came a voice from the tree. Its leaves rustled as Yuan Qin emerged, stepping beneath it with a smile. "Two against two—fair, yes?"

The brothers’ faces changed. Four demons in camp had reached fifth-tier, Yuan Qin was the first. They knew well the combined might of Six Ugly and Yuan Qin, and though Six Ugly was still fourth-tier, recalling last time—wasn’t it the same?

Unexpectedly, Six Ugly shook his head and smiled, "No need!"

At his words, a streak of black light flashed overhead, like ink splashing, crashing onto Wubei!

Zan Wubei’s body bent, his back burst open, organs spraying from the wound, his body smashed into a tree and fell lifeless.

Zan Wulang saw only the black flash as Wubei was hurled away. He barely had time to react, shouted, "Courting death!"

He was fifth-tier, possessed of great ability, and lunged forth, his right-hand blade swinging a gust of force down onto Six Ugly’s head.

Six Ugly retreated nimbly, barely dodging, stepped forward, and with a flick, his staff bounced up and struck Zan Wulang’s back.

Wulang’s blade missed, and he realized danger, stepping forward and raising his left hand to shield—his response swift.

But it was too late. As his left hand moved, a tremendous force struck. Wulang felt his body numb, then lifted into the air, still feeling no pain.

He then saw his lower half left on the ground, his feet pinned by Six Ugly. The severed torso had not fully fallen, blood spraying from the gaping wound, slowly collapsing.

Instant death.