Soul Devouring and Boundary Breaking: I Embark on the Path to Immortality in the Era of Demon Chaos

Those eerie green eyes darted about in the darkness, like two will-o'-the-wisps, accompanied by heavy, wet breathing—each breath carrying the stench of rotting flesh, and the scraping sound of claws against the bluestone slabs, a sound that made one's teeth ache. Lin Yan's heart pounded in his chest like a drum, cold sweat beading on his hand gripping the knife hilt, trickling down the rough wood grain. The original owner's memories, like punctured cotton wool, drifted through the air, filled with terrifying fragments of demons: they were known to devour the throats of the living, sucking the blood and bones of children dry, and some could even mimic human voices to lure those returning home at night into opening their doors.

In the shadows deep within the alley, the thing moved. First, it extended a paw, its paw pads festering and black, its nails gleaming with a cold, bluish-gray light. Then, its entire body emerged from the darkness—about the size of a wild dog, but its appearance was grotesquely repulsive: its fur was patchy and bald, revealing purplish, festering skin oozing thick, yellow pus; a row of bone spurs protruded from its back, their tips stained with dark red scabs; its mouth stretched to its ears, a mouthful of fangs protruding, saliva dripping from the tips of its teeth, hissing and emitting white smoke as it hit the ground, even etching small pits into the bluestone slabs. Most horrifying of all were its eyes, green on the left and red on the right, as if two different will-o'-the-wisps had been stuffed into their sockets, radiating a utterly inhuman madness.

"Rotting Jackal..." Lin Yan's Adam's apple bobbed as he pulled the name from his memory. This was the lowest-ranking demon, mostly transformed from wild dogs in the mountains that had been tainted by demonic energy, with strength roughly equivalent to a martial artist in the early stages of the Body Tempering Realm. But it was a hundred times more ferocious than a martial artist—it had no reason, felt no pain, and only bit according to instinct; if it was cut, it would only become more frenzied.

The rotting jackal growled, its hind legs slamming into the ground, sending dirt flying. It lunged forward like an arrow! Lin Yan felt a stench assault his nostrils and instinctively rolled to the side. His coarse trousers scraped against the gravel, chafing his thigh painfully. The jackal grazed his shoulder, its sharp claws tearing three gashes in his already tattered leather armor, barely grazing his flesh and leaving a chilling sting.

He scrambled to his feet, his lower back slamming against a pile of firewood against the wall, causing him to gasp in pain. His long sword trembled slightly with tension, the rust on its blade gleaming palely in the moonlight. No, he couldn't panic. Lin Yan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down—the original owner of this body used to hide in the corner of the training ground to peek, and although he hadn't learned proper martial arts, he had memorized some rudimentary slashing and thrusting techniques. Now, he could only try anything, even if it seemed hopeless.

The rotting jackal stumbled after landing, immediately turning around, its red and green eyes fixed on him, and lunged again. This time, Lin Yan didn't dodge. He gripped the knife with both hands, blade down, watching the jackal's trajectory—as its front paws rose, its belly would reveal a glimpse of soft flesh for a fleeting moment. Now! Lin Yan took a sudden step forward, thrusting the knife forward with all his might!

puff.

The blade pierced the jackal's neck, but only went in three inches before getting stuck in the bone. The jackal howled in pain, its claws flailing wildly, scratching several deep, bloody gashes on Lin Yan's arm, the bone exposed, and blood gushing out instantly. Lin Yan gritted his teeth, gripping the hilt of the knife tightly with his left hand, and slammed his right leg into the jackal's belly—the sensation was like kicking into soft, mushy mud, disgusting and repulsive. Using the recoil, he leaned back, finally pulling the knife out. Dark red blood splattered all over his face, stinking and foul.

Black smoke billowed from the jackal's wounds. It writhed on the ground in agony, but quickly rose to its feet, its eyes turning bloodshot, even its once green eye now stained crimson. It had gone completely mad, drool mingling with blood dripping from its mouth, and lunged at Lin Yan once more. Just as Lin Yan was about to raise his knife, the stone tablet mark on his chest suddenly burned intensely, as if he were holding a red-hot iron, so hot that he almost cried out.

The next moment, a strange power surged from the mark, flowing through his meridians and throughout his body—not brute force, but a clear yet profound energy, like a mountain stream, yet carrying the steadiness of rocks. His vision suddenly became exceptionally clear; he could even see the barbs on the jackal's claws clearly. And the jackal's pounce seemed to slow down in his eyes, each rise and fall clearly discernible.

Now! Lin Yan dodged the jackal's sharp teeth, simultaneously twisting his wrist to grip the knife in a reverse grip and slashing upwards! The blade sliced ​​across the jackal's soft belly, encountering almost no resistance this time. Dark red entrails mixed with blood and foam gushed out, bubbling as they hit the ground. The jackal screamed and crashed to the ground, convulsing a few times before its limbs gave a final, violent push, and then it lay still.

Lin Yan leaned against the wall, panting heavily, his chest heaving like a bellows. He looked at the rotting jackal's corpse, then raised his hand again—the power from before had dissipated, but the wound on his arm felt numb and itchy. Looking down, he saw that the bleeding had stopped, and the edges of the wound were even beginning to scab over. He pulled open his shirt, revealing a mark on his chest that was clearer than before, the gray lines gleaming faintly, like vines that had come to life.

"This mark..." Lin Yan was about to examine it more closely when a mournful wolf howl suddenly came from afar. The sound came from the direction of Canglang Mountain, high-pitched and violent, like steel needles piercing the night sky, making people's eardrums hurt. Immediately afterwards, more wolf howls rose and fell, surging in from all directions, as if all the demon wolves in the entire mountain forest had been awakened.

"Not good!" Lin Yan's expression changed drastically. In the original owner's memories, the pack of demon wolves from Canglang Mountain was a major threat to Blackstone Town. They usually hid deep in the mountains, only descending to attack villages outside the town on the night of the full moon—when their demonic energy was at its strongest. Tonight, the moon in the sky was as round as a silver plate, its clear light shining on the ground, yet carrying a chilling aura.

He ran towards the Demon Suppression Bureau with his lantern, and just as he turned the corner, the ground beneath his feet suddenly began to shake.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A series of dull thuds came from the direction of the town gate, each one louder and closer than the last, like a small mountain crashing into a wall. Lin Yan staggered and grabbed onto a crooked tree by the roadside, the candle in his lantern going out with a "poof." Immediately afterward, a sharp gong pierced the night sky—the warning gong of the Demon Suppression Division, usually used to scare away wild beasts, was now being struck urgently, carrying a desperate tremor.

"Demons are attacking the town! Demons are attacking the town—!"

Someone shouted, their voice shrill and piercing. The entire Blackstone Town erupted into chaos, a cacophony of cries, screams, running, and the shattering of doors and windows. Lin Yan saw many people rushing out of their houses, disheveled, fleeing towards the town center; some carrying children, others dragging the elderly, all as frantic as headless flies. He walked against the flow of people towards the town gate—not out of bravery, but because he knew that if the gate fell, the entire town would become a hunting ground for demons, and no one would survive.

Before even reaching the town gate, a deafening roar could be heard—

Boom!

Amidst the deafening crash of shattered wood and stone, the town gate, over two zhang tall, along with a section of the adjacent wall, collapsed with a deafening roar, sending plumes of dust billowing into the sky, choking people and causing them to cough. Moonlight pierced through the dust, illuminating a massive, dark shadow that was slowly rising from the ruins.

The creature was at least two zhang tall, its body resembling a giant bear magnified several times, yet covered in palm-sized black scales that gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen in the moonlight, thicker than Zhao Mang's iron armor. Its head was both wolf- and bear-like, its nose wrinkling to reveal pink flesh beneath, and its mouthful of fangs thicker than an adult's fingers. Saliva dripped onto the ground, etching small pits into the pebbles. Most terrifying of all were its eyes, blood-red, devoid of any white, reflecting only the moonlight, filled with pure ferocity and hunger.

"Black-scaled Demon..." Lin Yan's voice trembled as the name surfaced from his memory, carrying a chilling fear. This was a demon at the late stage of the Body Tempering Realm, possessing immense strength, its scales so hard they could withstand even refined iron swords. Three years ago, it attacked a neighboring town, and the Demon Suppression Division dispatched over fifty soldiers, suffering more than half their casualties before finally repelling it. He never expected it would now have come to Blackstone Town.

"Form ranks! All of you, form ranks!" Zhao Mang's roar came from the ruins. Lin Yan, hiding behind an old locust tree, looked over and saw more than twenty soldiers from the Demon Suppression Division crammed in front of the ruins, barely managing to form a loose formation. Zhao Mang stood at the very front, clad in jet-black iron armor, wielding a thick-backed broadsword. His face was ashen, like a block of iron, but his hand holding the sword trembled slightly—he was only at the mid-stage of the Body Tempering Realm, no match for the demon.

The demonic beast let out a low growl, and a foul, pungent stench of blood swept over them. It took a step, each stomp shaking the ground, the pebbles crunching beneath its feet. Two greenhorn recruits in the formation turned and ran in terror, but Zhao Mang swiftly beheaded one, blood splattering on the ground. Zhao Mang roared, "Deserters in the face of battle, behead them! Anyone who dares to run again will suffer the same fate!"

But no sooner had he finished speaking than the demonic beast moved. Its enormous body moved with the speed of a gust of wind, instantly rushing into the formation. Its giant claws swept across, and three soldiers, before they could even scream, were smashed into a bloody mess—like three watermelons crushed, with bits of flesh and entrails splattered everywhere, even staining the nearby broken wall red.

"Ah—!" Screams rose and fell, and the already loose formation collapsed instantly. The soldiers no longer cared about Zhao Mang's orders and scattered in all directions. Zhao Mang gritted his teeth and swung his sword at the demon's hind leg. The blade struck the scales with a crisp "clang," sparks flew, but only a white mark was left on the scales.

"Damn it!" Zhao Mang's face turned pale. He turned to run, but was spotted by the demon. The giant claw slammed down again. Zhao Mang hurriedly raised his sword to block. With a "crack," the thick-backed sword broke in two. He flew out like a kite with a broken string, crashing into the earthen wall of a nearby house. Dust flew up, and he was silent for the rest of the time.

Lin Yan hid behind the stone mill, his clothes soaked with cold sweat, and dared not even breathe loudly. He recognized one of the three soldiers who had just been killed as Li San, who could usually lift a hundred-pound stone lock with one hand and was considered strong in the Demon Suppression Division, but in front of the demon, he couldn't even withstand a single move.

Instead of chasing after the fleeing soldiers, the demon raised its head, sniffed the air, and then turned around and walked towards the west side of the town—where the refugee camp was located. Hundreds of refugees lived in simple shacks, mostly elderly people and children, making it the weakest point of Blackstone Town.

Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat. There was an old woman named Zhang in the refugee camp who, a few days ago, saw the original owner starving and secretly fed her half a cornbread. That cornbread, still fragrant with wheat, was the warmest thing the original owner had eaten in the past six months. If the demons rushed in, what about those old people and children…

He gripped the knife tightly, his knuckles turning white. Reason told him that charging forward would be suicide, but watching the demonic beast approach the refugee camp step by step, hearing the cries of children coming from the shacks, his feet seemed rooted to the spot. Just then, the mark on his chest suddenly burned intensely, hotter than when he had dealt with the rotting jackal, as if a fire was burning beneath his skin. An indescribable desire surged from the mark—not his desire, but the mark itself was "hungry," yearning for something.

Looking at the massive figure of the demonic beast, a crazy thought popped into Lin Yan's head: he had just devoured the blood and energy of the rotten jackal, which had greatly increased his strength and healed his wounds; if he were to devour this demonic beast...

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he suppressed it—it was too absurd; the gap between him and the demon was greater than that between an ant and an elephant. But the demon had already reached the entrance to the refugee camp, smashing down a shack with a single claw, from which came a woman's piercing scream.

"We can't wait any longer." Lin Yan gritted his teeth and rushed out from behind the stone mill. He didn't charge directly at the demon, but instead went around to the woodshed next to it, picked up a still-burning torch, and threw it with all his might at the demon's head. The torch hit the scales, sparks flying, but it didn't harm the demon in the slightest; it only stopped it in its tracks.

The demon slowly turned around, its blood-red eyes locking onto Lin Yan. The moment those eyes met Lin Yan's gaze, he felt his blood freeze; it was the look of a predator on its prey, cold and cruel. The demon let out a low growl and strode after him, each step shaking the ground as it closed the distance between them.

Run! Lin Yan turned and ran, heading towards the abandoned mine at the other end of the town. It was full of abandoned mine tunnels and piles of rubble, a complex terrain where he might be able to hide. The wind howled in his ears, and his lungs burned. He had never run so fast before, not even paying attention to the roars of the demon behind him.

As he approached the mine entrance, Lin Yan tripped over a loose rock and fell heavily to the ground, his forehead bleeding. Looking back, he saw that the demon had already caught up to him more than ten feet away, its giant claw raised high and bringing down a foul gust of wind—the claw was bigger than him, and if it landed, he would definitely be smashed into a pulp.

Am I going to die? Lin Yan closed his eyes, and many images flashed through his mind: the microscope in the modern laboratory, the braised pork made by his parents, the calloused hands in the original owner's memories, and the warm look in Aunt Zhang's eyes when she handed him a steamed bun...

The expected excruciating pain did not come. Just as the demon's bloody maw opened wide, and the stench almost assaulted their faces—

"boom!"

A ball of crimson light, the size of a fist, carrying a scorching heat wave, shot precisely from the shadows of the side mine tunnel. It was so fast that it left only a blur, and it slammed into the depths of the giant maw that the demon was about to close!

The ball of light, blazing like fire, suddenly exploded in the demon's mouth. A blinding red light shot out from between its fangs, followed by a muffled explosion and the sizzling sound of burning flesh. The demon let out a strange roar, a mixture of pain and rage, its head snapping back from the force of the explosion, spewing out black smoke, sparks, and charred bits of flesh, its attack abruptly halted.

Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat at the sudden turn of events. He turned his head sharply towards the direction from which the red light was coming, and saw a tiny black figure flash by on top of a half-collapsed pile of waste deep in the mine. The figure moved as lightly as a lynx in the forest and disappeared into the deeper darkness in an instant, vanishing without a trace.

There wasn't even time to see who it was. The figure came suddenly and left even more abruptly, as if it had thrown out the life-saving talisman just to interrupt the demon's fatal attack. Seeing that Lin Yan was temporarily out of danger, it left without any hesitation, without showing up or communicating at all.

The demonic beast recovered from its initial attack, steam still billowing from its mouth, the excruciating pain fueling its rage. It shook its massive head, splattering thick saliva and charred blood everywhere. Its bloodshot eyes locked onto Lin Yan again, its remaining ferocity now tinged with utter madness. It abandoned its direct strike, letting out a muffled roar due to the wound in its mouth. Its powerful hind legs slammed into the ground, its enormous body charging like a runaway millstone towards the fallen Lin Yan once more!

Life or death hangs in the balance! Lin Yan's pupils constricted sharply. That mysterious attack, while severely damaging the demon's mouth and interrupting its fatal strike, had also thoroughly enraged the ferocious beast. Now, it charged wildly, and if it were to be struck, it would suffer the same fate of being shattered to pieces.

Ignoring the pain all over his body, he rolled heavily on the spot, narrowly avoiding the head-on collision. The demonic beast swept past him with a foul stench, crashing into the remaining half of a stone pillar at the mine entrance. With a loud "boom," the pillar shattered, sending fragments flying that stung Lin Yan's back.

However, the demon's charge was too fierce, and it couldn't immediately turn its massive body around. Lin Yan seized this fleeting opening, and the mark on his chest seemed to sense its master's strong will to survive and the aura of the powerful "prey" before him, suddenly bursting forth with unprecedented heat and gray light!

A power far more surging and domineering than when he devoured the rotting jackal surged forth from the mark, instantly filling his limbs and bones. Pain and power intertwined, and his eyes shone terrifyingly bright in the darkness. The moment the demon ferocious creature's slightly clumsy turn and the scales on its neck slightly opened were magnified and slowed down infinitely in his eyes!

That's it!

Lin Yan, with strength he didn't know he had, leaped up from the ground. He gripped the blood-stained longsword tightly in his hands and, using the momentum of his forward charge and the strange power surging within him, he put all his weight and strength into this thrust!

"Pfft—!"

The blade precisely pierced the relatively vulnerable connection beneath the scales on the side of the demon's neck. This time, it didn't encounter the stubborn resistance of the rotting jackal's neck bone, but instead sank deep into the gaps in the muscles! Blackish-red, foul-smelling demon blood gushed out like a fountain, splattering Lin Yan's head and face.

"Awooo—!" The demonic beast let out a deafening howl, its massive body twisting violently as it tried to shake Lin Yan off. Lin Yan, however, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, hanging precariously from the beast's neck, enduring its frantic jolting. He gritted his teeth, enduring the excruciating pain that felt like his bones were about to shatter, and slashed the blade fiercely into his wound!

More demonic blood gushed out, and the demon's power rapidly dissipated with the gushing blood. It staggered, its forelimbs finally giving way, and it collapsed to its knees. After struggling a few more times, its terrifying blood-red eyes gradually lost their luster, and it remained completely still.

Lin Yan slid off the demon's body, collapsing into a pool of blood, gasping for breath. Each breath was filled with the pungent smell of blood and a burning pain in his lungs. He barely managed to lift his head, looking towards the pile of rubble where the petite figure had disappeared.

There was only a silent darkness there, with layers upon layers of shadows that the moonlight could not reach, and there was no sound at all, as if the life-saving explosive talisman and the fleeting figure were just hallucinations produced at the critical moment of life and death.

Who was it? Why did they save him? And why did they leave so quietly?

Questions swirled in his mind, but there was no time to delve into them. The mark on his chest, the instant the demon fell, had become as hot as a branding iron and was generating a powerful suction force!

The next moment, large gusts of dark red to black energy began to emerge from the not-yet-completely-cold corpse of the demon, more than ten times denser than that from the rotting jackal! These gusts of energy, carrying a terrifyingly violent energy, swirled slightly in the air before rushing towards the gray mark on Lin Yan's chest like rivers flowing into the sea.

"Ugh—!"

A pain several times more intense than before instantly overwhelmed Lin Yan. He felt as if his meridians were being torn apart, his flesh burning as if in magma. He curled up, his fingernails digging deep into the rubble, and a suppressed groan escaped his throat. This energy from a late-stage Body Tempering Realm demon was simply too immense and violent.

But at the same time, the mark on his chest began to operate at an unprecedented speed, its gray light flickering erratically, like a highly efficient furnace, forcibly devouring, transforming, and purifying the surging, violent energy. Amidst the excruciating pain, Lin Yan could clearly feel the intense tingling and itching from his broken ribs, which were rapidly healing; the scabs on his numerous wounds, large and small, were falling off, and new skin and flesh were growing; his depleted strength was recovering at an astonishing speed, becoming even more abundant and surging…

It's unclear how much time passed—perhaps only the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, or perhaps longer. When the last wisp of dark red energy was completely absorbed, the demon's enormous body had shriveled up completely, leaving only an empty shell covered in hard black scales, looking eerie and terrifying in the moonlight.

Lin Yan slowly loosened his clenched fists and propped himself up. He moved his arms, feeling the power flowing through his body, his eyes filled with shock. Not only were his injuries healed and his strength greatly increased, but when he looked inward, he was astonished to find that a tiny gray-black vortex had formed in his dantian, rotating slowly and steadily, emitting a strange fluctuation unlike the internal energy of ordinary martial artists.

Body Tempering Realm... early peak? No, he's almost touching the threshold of the mid-stage!

Moreover, as the cyclone formed, some clearer information, seemingly originating from the very source of his bloodline, naturally surfaced in his mind:

The Soul-Devouring Body! By devouring demons, one can plunder their essence, convert it into one's own power, enhance cultivation, and extend lifespan!

Lin Yan looked down at his blood-stained hands, then at the withered corpse of the demon on the ground. An indescribable shudder swept down his back, quickly replaced by a real "hope" rooted in this cruel world. This path, filled with bloodshed and the unknown, might be the only way for him to struggle for survival and even glimpse immortality in this chaotic world of demons and humans.

In the distance, the clamor of voices and the increasing number of torchlights were cautiously approaching the mine—the townspeople, having sensed the commotion subside, were trying to investigate.

Lin Yan took a deep breath of the cold air, thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder, and struggled to his feet. He wiped most of the blood from his face, straightened his tattered clothes, and barely covered his healed wounds. Then, he picked up the longsword that had survived two life-or-death battles, its blade seemingly gleaming with a faint gray light, turned, and walked step by step towards the approaching, bewildered flames.