Chapter Thirty-Two: The Golden Elixir of Ten Thousand Demons

“Wait, what sort of divine power are you using?” The Giant Python King hastily retreated, calling out to Yuan Wuji. It was the first time the Python King’s aura had been so thoroughly suppressed. Even those of higher cultivation than his own had never produced such a profound and unmistakable sense of dread—how could he not be alarmed?

“And what technique are you using?” Yuan Wuji was equally astonished by the aura exuded by the Giant Python King. Whenever they crossed paths, there was always a trace of apprehension in his heart.

Yet the bloodline power of the Arm-Adept Ape resolved this peculiar sensation. To Yuan Wuji, it felt as if a general, bearing a counterfeit imperial seal, was leading his soldiers to confront the emperor. Whom would the soldiers obey? The general had the seal, the emperor was the true emperor but lacked the seal—no matter whom the soldiers attacked, death awaited them all.

“Once I’ve captured you, we’ll see what you have to say,” the Python King replied, his heart gripped by terror. He wanted to end this battle quickly; otherwise, he truly risked perishing at Yuan Wuji’s hands.

Yuan Wuji wasted no more words. He brandished his blade and charged the Python King. Repeated clashes left ever more white marks on the serpent’s body, some even seeping blood. In contrast, Yuan Wuji remained unscathed—not a single scratch marred his body. The unease that had lingered in his heart vanished entirely. After all, Yuan Wuji’s cultivation had reached the perfected stage of Celestial Immortal, while the Python King was only at the mid-stage. His superiority was clear; bringing down the Python King would be no difficult matter.

With a hiss, a fresh, gaping wound split open along the Python King’s body. He had never imagined that the aura he so relied upon would have no effect whatsoever on Yuan Wuji.

“Are you truly of the demon race?” the Python King suddenly blurted out.

“Is that your dying wish? Very well, I’ll tell you—I am of the demon race.” Any beast or bird that cultivated into a demon was counted among their ranks; the only difference lay in the strength of the bloodline within.

“Then die! All demons, bow to me!” The strange aura emanating from the Python King suddenly surged, crashing relentlessly against Yuan Wuji. Now Yuan Wuji felt only a furious wrath—the rage of an emperor challenged by a general. An emperor’s wrath could leave a million corpses and rivers of blood in its wake.

The Devouring Demon Heart began to operate of its own accord, shrinking the Python King’s enormous form to that of a mere worm. Yuan Wuji seized him in one hand.

“No!” The Python King’s demon core drifted out from his body, only to be shattered by the automatic operation of the Devouring Demon Heart. The Python King immediately became listless and weak. This was the second time the Devouring Demon Heart had acted on its own, entirely beyond Yuan Wuji’s expectations. What opportunity had the Python King encountered? What divine power had he employed that not even Yuan Wuji had heard of, which could so provoke the Devouring Demon Heart?

“Python King, I’ll give you one chance—tell me of the opportunity you received, and I’ll spare your life.” Yuan Wuji coveted the Python King’s divine power; anything capable of activating the Devouring Demon Heart was certainly extraordinary.

“Dream on!”

“Then don’t blame me for what happens next.” The Python King was not a true demon sovereign, so his primordial spirit lacked the protection of secret arts. Yet probing another’s primordial spirit was a perilous endeavor. If not for his longing for the Python King’s divine power, Yuan Wuji would never have risked it.

“As expected, no secret arts.” Yuan Wuji’s primordial spirit had been nourished by the Waterfeather Primordial Spirit after being refined by the Devouring Demon Heart. By now, his soul possessed the strength of an early-stage Taiyi Immortal. It was still safe enough to search the Python King’s primordial spirit.

He saw the Python King’s life from birth: a naive little snake, relying on spiritual intuition, climbing to the mountaintop each night to absorb the moon’s essence, gradually awakening intelligence and cultivating into a spirit beast. With poor innate talent, he could never form a demon core. By chance, he entered an ancient cave dwelling—there his fortune changed, and his cultivation soared to its current heights.

“The Myriad Demon Golden Core?” That was what Yuan Wuji gleaned from the Python King’s primordial spirit, even memorizing the cultivation method in detail.

It seemed the demon core destroyed by the Devouring Demon Heart had been the fabled Myriad Demon Golden Core, the source of all the Python King’s power.

“What have you done to me?” The Python King’s entire life was now laid bare before Yuan Wuji, leaving him with no secrets and no further value.

With a muffled crack, Yuan Wuji crushed both the Python King’s primordial spirit and physical body. Without his Myriad Demon Golden Core, the Python King had reverted to an ordinary python—perhaps stronger than most, but now merely a heap of broken flesh.

“The king is dead! Run!” The pythons below scattered in disarray, fleeing for their lives. But Yuan Wuji had no time to deal with them. Having obtained the Myriad Demon Golden Core’s cultivation method, what he wanted most was to return and enter seclusion in the Five Camphor Cave.

He ignored the chaos below and stepped upon golden light, soaring straight back to the Five Camphor Cave.

“Great King, you’ve returned.” Today, Little Gold was on duty. Seeing Yuan Wuji descend from the heavens, he hurried forward to greet him.

“Little Gold, I’m going into seclusion. Let Steward handle all matters, great and small, in the Five Camphor Cave.” Yuan Wuji said no more, vanishing before Little Gold’s eyes.

“Why is the Great King in such a hurry today?”

“Go inform the Steward of the King’s will!” Black Moon was well known as the steward of Five Camphor Cave. Little Gold, the younger brother of the Cat Demon, held some sway among the demon soldiers and was quite commanding when issuing orders.

Yuan Wuji returned to his previous secluded chamber. Ever since King Yurong had ceded leadership of the Five Camphor Cave to him, this had been Yuan Wuji’s private cultivation sanctuary.

Sitting cross-legged at the heart of the cave, Yuan Wuji began to review the Myriad Demon Golden Core cultivation method he had extracted from the Python King’s primordial spirit.

Yet almost at once, he encountered a barrier.

To cultivate the Myriad Demon Golden Core, one’s realm must be at the Flower of Heaven stage, but before forming any demon core. The Python King, lacking the talent to form a core, had stumbled upon the method and soared to his current accomplishments.

But Yuan Wuji already possessed both the Geng Metal Golden Core and the Heavenly Gang Golden Core. To cultivate the Myriad Demon Golden Core, he would have to abandon the other two. For that, he would rather go without.

Yet something about the cultivation method was eerily akin to the Devouring Demon Heart, and Yuan Wuji found himself unable to let go of his desire for the Myriad Demon Golden Core.

“If I could form two golden cores, why not a third?” Yuan Wuji decided to take the risk, convinced he could succeed.

The Myriad Demon Golden Core absorbs the blood of all demons, strengthens the bones of all demons, and forges the body of a myriad demons.

If the Devouring Demon Heart only coveted the blood and flesh of ancient, primordial species, then the Myriad Demon Golden Core was indiscriminate—any living being could be devoured to nourish itself.