The Holy Maiden

It was night.

On the border of the Eastern Wasteland, adjacent to the Central State, a towering hall stood deep within a canyon. The hall's exterior was pitch-black, exuding a cold, eerie glow. Above the main entrance hung a plaque bearing three large characters: Heavenly Demon Palace.

The doors were shut tight. Two guards in black armor stood at the entrance, motionless as statues.

Today, this desolate land welcomed a prominent figure.

Inside the hall, candle flames flickered.

Instead of adding a shred of warmth, the firelight only made the unlit corners appear even darker. The entire hall was rendered all the more sinister and terrifying.

Past the entrance, a flight of stairs led up to a pitch-black throne. A woman sat upon the throne, while two rows of black-robed figures stood on either side, all with their heads bowed, not daring to look directly at her.

"So, did you see him?"

The woman's snow-white feet were bare, her toes round and translucent like ten tiny pearls. A light purple sheer dress outlined her graceful figure beneath. She lay sideways on the throne with her legs crossed. Her lazy, comfortable posture was enough to make any man's blood boil and kneel on the ground to kiss her feet.

However, not a single person present dared to raise their head.

Master Mochen, who was half-kneeling at the bottom of the steps, felt an immense pressure, cold sweat breaking out all over him.

The person before him was not easy to deal with.

He would rather stay in this dilapidated Eastern Wasteland for the rest of his life than go to the Central State to seek an audience with this Holy Maiden.

With his head lowered, Master Mochen said tremblingly,

"To answer the Holy Maiden, I did see him."

"Oh?"

The woman on the throne chuckled softly. "Then tell me, what kind of person is he?"

Gulp...

Master Mochen swallowed hard.

Her Highness the Holy Maiden had never cared so much about a single person. Should he pick some pleasant words to say, or tell the ugly truth?

After thinking for a long time, Master Mochen finally decided to tell the truth.

"R-replying to the Holy Maiden, when this subordinate first saw him, I felt that the person was completely ordinary. Looking at his bone age, he is at most twenty years old, and his cultivation is merely at the Foundation Establishment realm. With such aptitude, if he were in the Central State, he wouldn't even be fit to carry your shoes."

"In the beginning, things indeed went as this subordinate expected."

"However, Medusa was a bit strange. She seemed to know we would appear and laid traps in advance."

"What's even stranger is that the people from the Azure Mystic Sect also showed up, and they seemed to have some grudge against that boy, constantly shouting and trying to kill him."

"But according to our intelligence..."

"It should have been their first time meeting," Master Mochen frowned deeply at this point, "yet they acted as if there was a deep-seated blood feud between them."

"Medusa, Purple Heaven Peak..."

The woman softly murmured these two names, a hint of amusement flashing in her eyes.

It seemed she wasn't the only one with the ability of foresight.

"Go on."

"After that, the two sides fought fiercely. Muyun Xi sent her disciple to snatch the spiritual fire, and Bingxuanzi also told that boy to grab the spiritual fire, but in the end, the boy failed to get it."

"He failed?"

A trace of surprise flashed across the woman's eyes.

"Yes."

Master Mochen nodded. "However, Muyun Xi's disciple didn't get the Green Lotus Heaven Fire either. That spiritual fire was a fake, used by Medusa to confuse us."

"Just when everyone was shocked by this."

"That woman Muyun Xi suddenly went crazy. Taking advantage of Bingxuanzi's inattention, she stabbed the boy to death with a single sword strike."

"He died?"

The woman frowned, appearing somewhat angry.

"I also thought so at first..."

Master Mochen was about to continue when suddenly—

Pfft!!!

The sound of gushing blood echoed in the hall.

"Argh!!!!"

Immediately after, a heart-wrenching scream resounded through the entire hall. A black-robed figure clutched his eyes, wailing in agony on the ground. Blood seeped through his fingers and dripped onto the pitch-black floor, a shocking sight.

"You just... took a peek at me, didn't you?"

Two bloody eyeballs had appeared in the woman's hand at some unknown point, and she was playing with them carelessly.

"T-this subordinate wouldn't dare."

The black-robed man quickly silenced his cries and prostrated himself, his head pressed against the cold ground, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

"This subordinate was just careless a moment ago..."

"Careless? So that's how it is."

The woman lightly lifted her jade-like feet and walked down the steps, slowly arriving in front of the black-robed man, and then—

Crack!

She raised her leg and stomped down.

The black-robed man's head instantly exploded like a watermelon, splashing red and white all over the floor.

A dead silence fell over the hall.

Everyone shuddered in unison, straightening their backs with their heads bowed, their eyes fixed firmly on the tips of their own toes, terrified that if they weren't careful, their eyeballs would leave them too.

Patter... patter...

The woman drew back her foot, shook off the non-existent dust from her skirt, and slowly walked back to the throne with elegant steps, leaving a trail of dark bloody footprints along the way.

She lay back down on the throne, crossing her legs as if nothing had just happened. The only difference was that her slender, jade-like fingers were casually playing with a pair of bloody eyeballs.

"Continue," she said, resting her chin on her hand, her tone flat.

A drop of sweat fell from Master Mochen's chin. He didn't dare to wipe it, trying his best to keep even his breathing steady.

"At first, I also thought the boy was dead. But it wasn't until Bingxuanzi went mad, faked his death and self-destructed, and we came out of the underground cavern to find the entire city of Snake People in a deep slumber and the spiritual fire in the holy temple long gone, that I realized everyone had been played by that boy."

"His true body was never in the cavern at all."

"That boy must have known where the Green Lotus Heaven Fire was all along, so he used us to draw Medusa's attention, and then secretly snuck into the holy temple to steal the spiritual fire."

"Are you saying..."

The woman played with the eyeballs in her hand, a glimmer of surprise flashing in her eyes. "The four of you Soul Formation cultivators, who have lived for nearly a thousand years combined, were fooled by a Foundation Establishment boy with a bone age of under twenty? He even stole the spiritual fire right from under your noses, and not a single one of you could figure out where his true body was?"

Master Mochen buried his head even lower.

"This subordinate is incompetent. I beg the Holy Maiden for punishment."

The woman toyed with the eyeballs and fell silent for a moment before suddenly covering her mouth and laughing loudly.

"Giggle... why would I blame you?"

She casually tossed the eyeballs away. "Being played by my husband isn't anything to be ashamed of."

"Husband?!"

Master Mochen was dumbfounded, his face full of disbelief.

That boy was the Holy Maiden's husband?

Wait, since when did the Holy Maiden have a husband? Does the Cult Master know about this?

He was just about to ask.

But there was no one left in front of him. On the throne, only two bloody eyeballs remained.

Inside the dim bedchamber, candle flames flickered.

A large easel stood in the center of the room, bearing a painting of a young man in white. He held a broken sword, standing deep amidst the clouds with an indifferent gaze. His plain white robes were dyed red with blood, and behind him lay countless fallen corpses, blanketing the entire mountain peak. Deep within the mountain peak, a magnificent palace could be vaguely seen. Above the palace hung a plaque bearing three large characters: Ten Thousand Demon Palace.

"Hum hum hum~"

Before the easel, the woman stood barefoot on the cold stone floor. Holding a brush in her right hand, she carefully sketched the painting stroke by stroke.

Before long, the artwork was complete.

Satisfied, the woman set down her brush and took a few steps back to silently admire her masterpiece.

Nothing else in the scene had changed.

Except now, there was a woman in front of the young man. She was half-kneeling on the ground, her chest pierced by a longsword and blood spilling from the corner of her mouth, staring at the youth before her with deep defiance.

"As expected of the one who could kill me..."

The woman took a step forward. One hand gently caressed the face of the figure in the painting, while the other lightly touched her own chest. She stared intently into his indifferent, emotionless eyes, her own gaze brimming with infatuation.

"Only you are worthy of me."

"Unlike those worthless wretches who lack even the courage to look me in the eye."

Gazing at the young man's face in the painting, her eyes grew hazy. Unable to restrain herself, she leaned closer and closer, until her lips completely pressed against his.