Origin Ridge.
The Withered Grass Plains.
Patrol squads were typically composed of seven small demons.
Given their low cultivation levels—roughly equivalent to the fifth or sixth layer of Qi Refinement—most of these demons bore little resemblance to humans.
The mouse demon, for instance, shared only one similarity with humans: it now walked on two legs.
Leading the squad was a weasel demon.
With a pointed snout, a face covered in yellow fur, and narrowed eyes, it couldn’t help but grumble:
"What’s the point of patrolling this damn plain? No one’s launching a surprise attack here. If we run into a Golden Core expert, we’ll be wiped out before we can even make a sound. What’s there to check?"
The moment the captain spoke, the squad quickly erupted into chatter, each member voicing their thoughts.
A small, hunched-over lizard demon, carrying a worn-out broadsword, rasped in a hoarse voice:
"If they don’t send us to die, how else can they flaunt their authority as demon kings?"
The mouse demon sighed. "Before the Demon Nation, our lives weren’t our own. Now that it exists, they still aren’t. Did I come here for nothing? I even had a mouse bride waiting for me back home..."
A sturdy little wild ox demon, sporting a pair of horns, chimed in with a naive tone:
"Don’t say that. If the Demon Nation really stands firm, we won’t have to hide and flee from humans anymore."
As soon as these words left its mouth, four of the seven demons burst into laughter.
The smallest lizard demon slapped the boar demon beside it, guffawing:
"Hey, pig, you buying that?"
The boar demon’s tusks wobbled as it snorted with laughter:
"Like hell I do!"
The ox demon didn’t argue back. It just cast a sidelong glance at the others.
They were all just putting up a tough front.
If they truly didn’t believe, why would they have traveled thousands of miles to this godforsaken wasteland?
Did the sand here taste better or something?
The weasel demon observed its squad.
Complaining together was good—it subtly strengthened morale and camaraderie.
Only when the conversation took a truly negative turn would the weasel step in to steer it back.
It hadn’t joined in the laughter earlier, because deep down, it agreed with the ox demon.
If possible, it never wanted to hide and run again...
It had already lost one wife and three children.
The weasel demon’s claw absently traced the hilt of its battered longsword.
Truth was, they all knew.
Even if the Demon Nation succeeded, frontline grunts like them would probably never live to see it.
If a full-scale war broke out, the aftershocks of a Golden Core battle alone could crush them like ants.
But still...
It wanted to fight for a sliver of hope—no, to fight for their own pride.
Even if its existence was insignificant, it still wanted to contribute.
Maybe, at the core of it all, it was just hatred...
As the squad’s bickering filled the air, the weasel demon’s heart gradually calmed, and a faint smile tugged at its lips.
But soon, that smile vanished, replaced by grim tension.
The wind carried the scent of humans.
The weasel demon’s nose twitched, and its gaze snapped toward a patch of withered grass nearby.
It raised a hand, cutting off the squad’s chatter, and hissed in a low voice: "Tighten up!"
The mouse demon stiffened, its beady eyes darting to where the weasel was looking.
Its claw flew to the crossbow strapped to its back.
On patrol, it always kept a bolt loaded—no time to fumble with reloading in a fight.
At the Qi Refinement stage, demons couldn’t wield spells. Their only weapons were brute strength and whatever gear they could scavenge.
Crossbows were popular among low-level demons.
Not because they could actually kill cultivators—for that, you’d need ritual-enhanced weapons or spellcraft.
Those were far too precious.
If even patrol grunts had access to such things, the Demon Nation would’ve been established long ago.
No, the crossbow’s real purpose was to gauge whether they should fight or flee.
The mouse demon whispered: "Shoot?"
The weasel demon’s eyes narrowed. "Volley!"
The creak of drawn bowstrings followed as two other demons armed with crossbows took aim.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
Bolts streaked toward the yellowed grass.
As expected, two figures burst from the thicket—a man and a woman, both wielding blades.
With practiced ease, they deflected the incoming bolts, their swords weaving a protective dance infused with faint spiritual energy.
The weasel demon scrutinized them, relief flooding its chest once it confirmed neither was a Foundation Establishment cultivator.
What kind of reckless Qi Refinement fools would ambush them here?
Did they think so little of demons?
It barked orders:
"Ox! Pig! Lizard! Triangle formation—go!"
"On it!" The boar demon’s stubby legs churned as it unsheathed its cleaver and charged.
The ox and lizard demons followed close behind.
The weasel demon didn’t rush in. Instead, its eyes swept the surroundings, nostrils flaring as it scented the air.
Cui Hao’s cultivation: Qi Refinement, fifth layer.
Lin Luoyu’s cultivation: Qi Refinement, ninth layer.
Cui Hao sighed as the snarling demons barreled toward them.
"Told you. Who’d set an ambush here?"
Lin Luoyu raised her sword, her gaze icy.
"Kill first. Talk later."
Cui Hao tightened his grip on his blade. "Fourth Senior Sister, you take the pig and ox. I’ll handle the short lizard."
"Agreed." The moment Lin Luoyu spoke, her figure blurred forward, closing the distance in an instant.
She met the boar demon head-on.
The boar demon roared, muscles bulging as it swung its cleaver in a brutal arc.
In close combat, demons held the advantage—at least, against ordinary Qi Refinement cultivators.
But Lin Luoyu was anything but ordinary.
A wisp of righteous qi could level mountains and rivers.
A glimmer of white spiritual energy flickered along her blade, and the boar demon’s eyes widened—her sword, once clearly visible, now left only afterimages.
"Fall back!"
The ox demon’s desperate shout reached the boar’s ears too late.
A cold sting flashed across its neck.
Then, the world spun.
Its last sight was the ox demon’s grief-stricken face, eyes burning with fury.
Heh...
So this was it.
The boar demon’s final thought faded into darkness.
The weasel demon’s heart lurched as it witnessed Lin Luoyu’s skill. Regret and sorrow surged.
"Trouble! Big trouble!" it howled.
agon king storylines. At the start, I obtained the "Ultimate Lackey System" - the more I act as a lackey, the stronger I become. What else could I do? I chose to become the personal henchman of the ultimate villain, Su Muwan. I provoke all sorts of chosen ones, snatch away their opportunities, and commit every evil deed imaginable. You ask who's behind me? Hmph! You're not worthy of knowing my lady's name! ...... ....... I am Su Muwan, the eldest daughter of the Su family. Since childhood, I've possessed extraordinary talent in martial arts, which led to my arrogant and domineering personality in my past life. I was even foolish enough to repeatedly challenge those favored by heaven, ultimately resulting in a tragic death. In this life, I must behave and absolutely cannot walk the same path again!! However... SLAP!! "So you're the Dragon King, huh?!" When I saw my little lackey swagger over and viciously slap the Dragon King who was hiding his identity, I felt my heart sink. Su Muwan's suspended heart finally died as she watched Qin Luo, her utterly loyal lackey, standing before her. She fainted on the spot from shock. Heaven is determined to destroy me!! (Pure love 1v1, light-hearted, no angst, single female lead, villain, reincarnation, lackey)
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
