Oh no Our sect has been infiltrated by a spy from the demonic cult

Thunderpeak Mountain, Council Hall.

"Elder Zhao, there might be a spy from the Demonic Sect infiltrating our sect!"

"Oh? Such good news? Tell me more!"

"..."

Ding Mingcang, the Second Elder, was left speechless by Zhao Wendao’s gleaming eyes.

It made sense, though.

Elder Zhao had been so idle lately that all he did was drink tea and play chess. If there really were bold Demonic Sect members lurking around, he’d finally have something new to entertain himself with.

"Recently, the attendance rate of our disciples has dropped drastically, and their cultivation discipline has slackened."

"Upon investigation, the enforcement team discovered that the disciples have become addicted to an illusory trial, neglecting their training as a result."

"This trial has the ability to erode a cultivator’s mind—I suspect it’s the work of the Demonic Sect."

Ding Mingcang produced a miniature illusion tower and an illusion crystal.

These were confiscated from the disciples yesterday during a raid he personally led.

At the time, two inner disciples had been caught in their dormitory, gleefully smashing chamber pots over each other’s heads before being apprehended on the spot.

With a wave of his hand, Zhao Wendao summoned the illusion crystal into his palm.

After scanning it with his divine sense, his eyebrows rose. "This is... a replica?"

"Correct. The disciples are all using replicas. The original is said to be in the illusion training grounds of the Artifact Refining Pavilion."

Zhao Wendao narrowed his eyes, stroking his beard with keen interest.

Replicas were mere copies, devoid of the original’s complete techniques, offering only fragmented insights.

Yet even these broken fragments felt refreshingly novel to him.

No one had ever done something like this before.

"If this concerns the Artifact Refining Pavilion, then let Elder Nan handle it."

"Elder Zhao, have you forgotten? Elder Nan is away on a journey."

"In that case... you handle the disciplinary measures. I leave this matter in your hands."

Zhao Wendao suddenly recalled that even his own lectures hadn’t been fully attended lately and nodded in agreement.

After Zhao Wendao left with the illusion tower and crystal, Ding Mingcang summoned his subordinates.

"Have you traced the source of these illusion crystals?"

"We have. They were all sold by a disciple from the Artifact Refining Pavilion named Lu Ze."

"Hmph! Such a large-scale operation handled by a single disciple? Investigate thoroughly!"

Ding Mingcang’s expression darkened.

The sect’s financial authority rested in his hands.

Disciples being addicted to Demonic Escape was one thing,

but a flood of spirit stones filling someone else’s pockets was another.

Disciples trading artifacts among themselves, no matter how expensive, was none of his concern.

But a monopoly on mass-produced goods? That was the sect’s domain.

Now, someone else had taken over?

He would make sure this Lu Ze faced severe punishment.

"Have you identified who created this illusion?"

"There’s no record in the archives. I’ve sent men to question the Artifact Refining Pavilion disciples."

"Bring the culprit to me by tomorrow at the latest!"

"Yes, Elder."

......

......

Swordpeak Mountain, Cliff of Severed Thoughts.

Legend held that in ancient times, the Lingxiao Sect had once been besieged by a united front of demonic forces.

The Swordpeak Elder of that era stood here, cleaving through ten thousand techniques with a single strike, leaving behind this sheer cliff face.

Countless cultivators had since come to pay homage, seeking enlightenment from the remnants of that sword’s intent.

Now, it was one of the sect’s sacred grounds.

"Senior Brother Zhong, why have you called me here?"

Mu Yawen drained his teacup in one gulp and smacked his lips.

In the cultivation world, most disciples adhered to an elegant, slender aesthetic—even those specializing in body refinement took care to maintain a refined appearance.

Mu Yawen, however, was an exception.

His massive frame strained against his robes, his bronzed muscles clearly visible beneath the fabric.

"Junior Brother Mu, have you heard about the new illusory trial that’s taken the sect by storm?"

Across from him sat Zhong Yi, a handsome long-haired disciple and the personal student of Elder Zhao Wendao.

"An illusory trial? Has another mighty expert left behind their divine will?"

Mu Yawen’s eyes blazed with excitement.

He was a battle fanatic, spending every waking moment in illusory trials, sparring with remnants of ancient experts or phantom beasts.

"No, it’s meant for outer disciples to train their movement techniques—called Demonic Escape."

"Why haven’t I heard of it?"

"Because it’s in the general training grounds. Junior Brother Mu wouldn’t have encountered it."

Mu Yawen usually trained in the exclusive illusory towers reserved for elite disciples, filled with high-level trials. Naturally, he was oblivious to the outside world.

"If it’s for outer disciples, why are you so interested, Senior Brother?"

Mu Yawen asked curiously.

"That’s the strange part! A trial meant for outer disciples has become wildly popular even among inner disciples. Some outer disciples are scoring higher than inner ones..."

Zhong Yi explained.

Every disciple knew what illusory trials were like.

Aside from battle maniacs like Mu Yawen, no one in the sect was obsessed with them.

Yet Demonic Escape had managed it.

"It’s really that amazing? Then I must try it!"

Mu Yawen rubbed his hands together, eager.

"If that’s the case, why not go yourselves? Why summon me?"

A cold, feminine voice echoed from within the sword scar on the cliff face.

"Junior Sister, you finally decided to show yourself..."

Zhong Yi smiled wryly.

The speaker was Li Moran, personal disciple of the Fifth Elder.

She spent her days atop the Cliff of Severed Thoughts, honing her swordplay against the ancient sword intent, her demeanor as icy as her blade.

"Our master told me there’s something unusual about this illusory trial. He tasked me and the other elite disciples to evaluate it."

"..."

After a brief pause,

a streak of light flashed from the cliff, coalescing into an ethereal figure of breathtaking beauty.

Li Moran’s lips parted slightly, her expression frosty.

"If it’s Elder Zhao’s request, then let’s make this quick."

......

......

Blazefire Peak, Illusory Training Hall.

Compared to the previous days, the hall was now eerily quiet.

The outer disciples’ trial passes had expired, and they were too busy earning spirit stones to buy miniature illusion towers to show up.

The inner disciples, meanwhile, had all gotten their own portable towers, allowing them to play Demonic Escape in their dorms.

Lu Ze gazed at the empty hall, lost in thought.

Rumor had it that some inner disciples had skipped classes to play Demonic Escape in their rooms and were caught red-handed by the enforcement team, their towers confiscated.

If the higher-ups investigated, they’d trace it back to him soon enough.

Lu Ze wasn’t worried.

He had designed the trial strictly according to requirements—its core purpose was to help outer disciples refine the Cloud-Shattering Steps. Nothing wrong with that.

Was it his fault if the trial happened to be fun?

Clearly, the disciples just lacked discipline.

Righteous sects operated on reason. At worst, they’d ban Demonic Escape, but they wouldn’t punish him severely.

The mission was already complete. If Demonic Escape died, so be it.

As long as the concept of "illusory games" took root, another would rise in its place.

The real problem was—

his Demonic Value was accumulating too slowly.

After obtaining the Myriad Profound Devil Physique, the amount needed to break through each realm had increased tenfold.

The current player base mostly consists of outer sect disciples at the Qi Refining stage and inner sect disciples at the Foundation Establishment stage.

The highest cultivation level among them barely reaches the Golden Core stage.

He now needs to expand the player base further; otherwise, advancing to higher realms would be too difficult.

Just then, a crisp system notification rang in his ears:

[Demonic Path Value +10]