All's Fair in War

"Someone is setting up an altar to cast a ritual?" Seeing that murky, obscure, yet stable aura, Zhou Wuji's first thought was that someone was performing magic. The aura of demonic beasts was turbid and dense; the aura of ghostly creatures was icy cold and ferocious; the aura of wicked things was deep and inscrutable. Such a stable and secretive aura could only belong to a human. Had his Six Yang Dharma Eyes not reached the Proficient level, it would have been nearly impossible for him to spot this concealed aura. When Wuzheng opened an altar to perform a ritual, he followed an upright, righteous path, his aura flourishing with an imposing grandeur that repelled all evils. Both the Buddhist and Daoist sects followed this path. The person performing the ritual on Red Leaf Ridge was clearly of a demonic cult. Zhou Wuji immediately thought of Fang Dashan, whom he had killed, and of the Yin-Yang Dao. Though the Yin-Yang Dao was an evil, heterodox sect, its methods were very similar to Daoism; it simply worshiped different deities, and its doctrines were worlds apart. At this distance, it was impossible to see clearly. Zhou Wuji glanced at the numerous destiny patterns recorded in the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment and decided to spend three destiny patterns close to two liang to upgrade the Six Yang Dharma Eyes. This low-level spell was simply too useful in the night. A purple light descended, and in a daze, Zhou Wuji seemed to cultivate inside the book for many years. In reality, only two or three breaths of time had passed, and the Six Yang Dharma Eyes had leaped from Proficient to Transcendent. Seeing this, Zhou Wuji invested another two-liang destiny pattern, pushing the Six Yang Dharma Eyes to the Perfection realm. With this, Zhou Wuji thoroughly grasped every subtle principle of the Six Yang Dharma Eyes, achieving complete, unobstructed mastery and wielding the spell entirely at will. His left hand shifted through three hand seals in succession as he silently recited the incantation in his mind. In an instant, he re-empowered himself with the Six Yang Dharma Eyes. The world before his eyes burst into multicolored radiance. Zhou Wuji could see the origin and destination of every wisp of circulating Qi, as well as the intrinsic properties embedded within them. Under the Six Yang Dharma Eyes, that deep, obscure aura also revealed its true form. A stable human silhouette formed of black and white Qi was conjuring bursts of emerald light, which spread like a net, a curtain, completely shrouding the figure. That human figure was inevitably someone from the Yin-Yang Dao. The Yin-Yang True Qi they cultivated converged positive and negative, yin and yang, making it extremely easy to distinguish by its Qi. Those bursts of green light were likely some kind of magical artifact. Zhou Wuji estimated that the distance between them was roughly one or two li. At such a great distance, with his Six Yang Dharma Eyes at the Perfection realm, Zhou Wuji could differentiate their Qi and spiritual nature, allowing him to make precise judgments. In the final analysis, it came down to the wondrous efficacy of the Six Yang Dharma Eyes at the Perfection realm. This spell was not high in rank, but practicing it was by no means easy. Nor would many people invest their time and effort into cultivating it diligently; after all, it was merely an auxiliary spell. Even less would anyone spend a lifetime bitterly cultivating it to the Perfection realm. In the past, Zhou Wuji had not upgraded the Six Yang Dharma Eyes because he felt the Proficient level was sufficient. He hadn't expected the Perfection realm of the Six Yang Dharma Eyes to be so remarkably useful. He looked over his various spells and saw that only the Pure Heart Divine Incantation remained at the Proficient level. Zhou Wuji had always felt this technique was not of much use; relying on his swordsmanship at Great Accomplishment, with the Seven Stars Sword in hand, his heart and sword naturally united as one, fully sufficient to ward off external demonic intrusion. However, seeing from afar that the opponent possessed a formidable magical artifact—most likely the Yin-Yang Banner specifically used to command numerous resentful spirits and fierce ghosts—the Pure Heart Divine Incantation would have its purpose, as such spirits and ghosts specialized in assaulting the mind and consciousness. For the impending battle, Zhou Wuji felt it was better to enhance his spells as much as possible; even if it proved unnecessary, he would only lose a few primordial profound spirits. With that in mind, Zhou Wuji invested three primordial profound spirits to raise the Pure Heart Divine Incantation to the Great Accomplishment realm. Advancing it to Perfection would be too difficult, requiring destiny patterns of two liang or more. Thinking Great Accomplishment was enough, Zhou Wuji cast the Pure Heart Divine Incantation on himself. Through the Six Yang Dharma Eyes, he saw the Pure Heart Divine Incantation transform into a faint, ethereal halo that melted into his body, forming a flawless barrier of Dharmic power that completely enveloped his body and mind. At the same time, the Pure Heart Divine Incantation smoothed and regulated the Qi inside and outside his entire body. It felt like drinking a glass of heavily carbonated, ice-cold cola on a sweltering day; his entire being felt instantly refreshed and invigorated. Relying on his deep comprehension of the spell, Zhou Wuji naturally understood how long the Pure Heart Divine Incantation and the Six Yang Dharma Eyes would last, how much Dharmic power they would consume, and what other variations they could undergo. Having prepared, Zhou Wuji made his way toward Red Leaf Ridge. Bees never left their hive at night unless attacked, and gold-ring poison bees were no exception. Precisely because of this trait, launching a sneak attack at night with the Five Yin Pouch would be enough to take an entire hive of poison bees away in one swoop. The reason the Five Yin Pouch could not hold living beings was that the pouch itself was formed from yin spirits, whose nature clashed with living Qi—not that it truly lacked the capacity to contain life. Zhou Wuji knew of this characteristic of the gold-ring poison bees, and having calculated that the Five Yin Pouch counteracted them, he had planned to deal with the demons first. Now, however, he had to take care of the evil cultivators of the Yin-Yang Dao first. The low-ranking believers of the Yin-Yang Dao were pitiful and wretched, but every single official cultivator among them deserved death. This was explicitly written into imperial law: demonic cults like the Yin-Yang Dao, the Myriad Fiends Cult, the Heavenly Ghost Sect, and the Corpse God Cult deceitfully invoked spirits and ghosts, duped the ignorant masses, disrupted moral order, and made depraved sacrifices to fiends and monsters; by law, all cultists were to be beheaded, exempted from any amnesty. As long as someone was proven to be a demonic cultist, whether holding an official post or not, their head would roll. When the imperial court first instituted these harsh laws, it had indeed struck a heavy blow against the demonic cults. Yet now, fiends and monsters ran rampant, local clans preyed ruthlessly upon the commoners, and the ordinary people at the bottom had no choice but to huddle together desperately just to survive, creating fertile soil for the demonic cults to spread. Regardless of their motives, once believers joined a demonic cult, they were enslaved by it, often paying an even heavier price. Even so, there were always those willing to gamble, those who wanted to try another way to survive. Zhou Wuji had traveled everywhere with his master and was well aware of the reality behind this. Ordinary believers could only be considered ignorant and foolish, but every member of the Yin-Yang Dao was without exception rotten to the core. The reason demonic cults were called demonic cults was that all their rituals were intensely bloody and grotesque. Once inside a demonic cult, you either became wicked, became a corpse, or turned wicked before dying—there was no fourth path. When he killed those two Yin-Yang Dao martial artists earlier, it wasn't merely because he saw them murder someone; he knew that killing every last one of their kind would never be a mistake. That band of Yin-Yang Dao cultists on Lingming Peak was bound to be closely connected with the group here on Red Leaf Ridge. Using the Six Yang Dharma Eyes to observe the Qi from afar, Zhou Wuji sensed that the cultist presiding over the altar was only of the seventh rank. Yunlong Branch Abbey enjoyed imperial support, received instruction from the main abbey with its millennium of heritage, and had a deep foundation among the populace; only thus could it nurture numerous ordained Daoists of the seventh rank. For an underground demonic cult like the Yin-Yang Dao, producing a seventh-rank expert was by no means easy. Fortunately, the Yin-Yang Dao focused primarily on Daoist arts. The man's forte was magical spells and supernatural techniques; he would not be very strong in the martial path. Zhou Wuji was quite confident about this. If a Yin-Yang Dao demonic cultivator possessed the strength of a seventh-rank martial artist, he would have slaughtered his way through Siming County long ago, rather than lying so low. A seventh-rank Daoist who was also a seventh-rank martial artist—only his master could achieve such a feat. His master kept a low profile only because bearing a divine artifact imposed various restrictions upon him. Furthermore, if the opponent truly had the power of a seventh-rank martial artist, his vitality and blood would burn bright like a beacon, and Zhou Wuji would have spotted it immediately with the Six Yang Dharma Eyes. Locking onto the target's position, Zhou Wuji carefully threaded his way through the mountain woods, swiftly closing the distance. When he was several dozen paces away, Zhou Wuji spotted the Yin-Yang Dao group. The leading demonic cultivator wore a black-and-white lotus mask and a black-and-white yin-yang robe, his disheveled hair giving him a mad, sinister air. Most striking was a long banner planted beside the altar, black on one side and white on the other. It was likely the renowned magical artifact of the Yin-Yang Dao—the Yin-Yang Hundred Spirits Banner... Beside the altar stood an alluring, seductive woman, also dressed in a black-and-white robe, though the Qi she gave off was far weaker, barely at the Qi Ingestion level. There was also an attendant wearing a black-and-white robe. The rest of the people were all dressed in coarse short tunics and straw sandals, their skin dark and rough—obviously common laborers from the bottom of society. However, there were more than twenty of them, holding long wooden poles with coarse-cloth nets tied to the ends, seemingly tools for capturing the gold-ring poison bees. Beside them sat several coarse earthenware jars sealed with wax. Were they filled with honey? There were a bit too many people. Zhou Wuji wasn't afraid, but he didn't want to fight these common believers. Once a fight broke out, there would be no pulling punches. He was only flesh and blood after all; a spear thrust could kill him just the same. Zhou Wuji decided to wait and see if a suitable opportunity presented itself. Upon the altar heaped of earth and stone, Fang Jing had no idea someone was watching him from the shadows. He was watching the depths of the forest, where the two believers he had dispatched had gone. Before long, frantic shouts came from within the trees, and the two believers came running toward them with torches in hand. Behind them, swarms of gold-ring poison bees surged forward like roiling clouds of black mist. The shrill buzzing of the gold-ring poison bees was ear-splitting. The surrounding believers shrank back, their necks pulled in and bodies hunched, thoroughly terrified. Fang Jing, however, was unfazed. Grasping the Yin-Yang Hundred Spirits Banner beside him, he shook it, releasing the various fierce ghosts and baleful ghosts housed within, which whipped into gusts of yin wind and charged straight toward the gold-ring poison bees. Hiding to the side, Zhou Wuji's eyes lit up. Now was the perfect time to strike! The wisdom and experience of his past life told him that all is fair in war; victory was the sole objective, and the means never mattered...