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

Lin Yan settled Zhou and her son in an abandoned mud house on the edge of town. The house had originally been the home of an old shoemaker who had died of cold and hunger the previous winter. The door was hanging crookedly on the hinges, and the plaster on the walls was peeling off. Fortunately, the roof was still intact and could provide some shelter from the wind and rain.

Holding her baby, Zhou repeatedly stroked the rough earthen walls of the mud house with her fingertips, as if confirming the authenticity of this temporary refuge. She was originally a farmer from Zhoujiazhuang, three hundred miles to the north. Half a month ago, a pack of demonic wolves from Canglang Mountain ravaged the village—when her husband pushed her and the child into the cellar, his back was torn in half by wolf claws, and his screams still echoed in her ears; her in-laws, in order to lure the wolves away, set fire to their own woodshed, and in the end, not even their bones remained. She hid in the cellar for three days with her baby, eating the last half of a sweet potato, before escaping under the cover of night. She begged her way south, her feet blistered and bleeding, until she finally reached Black Stone Town.

"The people in town look down on us because we're refugees. They say we carry bad luck and are even more afraid of being tainted by evil spirits. They won't even let us near the city gates," Zhou said, turning around to scoop half a bowl of water from a broken earthenware jar in the corner of the house and pouring it into a chipped rough porcelain bowl. The water was fetched from the stream outside town that morning; it was muddy and sandy, so murky that you could see the patterns on the bottom of the bowl, but it was the most presentable thing she could offer.

Lin Yan took the bowl, his fingertips touching the rough rim. He didn't drink from it, but gently placed it on the windowsill—where half a dried-up corncob lay, probably left over from the old shoemaker's life. He surveyed the room's furnishings: a wooden table with a missing leg propped up by a stone, some tattered cotton wadding piled in the corner, a thin layer of thatch on the kang (heated brick bed), and otherwise, nothing else.

"What are your plans for the future?" Lin Yan asked.

Upon hearing this, Zhou's shoulders slumped, and the light in her eyes dimmed little by little, leaving only numb despair: "I don't know... what can I do? I'll just take it as it comes. As long as I'm alive, as long as Xiaobao can live one more day..." She pulled the child closer to her, and Xiaobao nestled in his mother's warm embrace, timidly raising his eyes to look at Lin Yan. The child was so thin that his cheekbones protruded, his face was sallow, and his lips were chapped, but his eyes shone like a clear mountain spring, without much of the fear of the adult world, only the unique curiosity and dependence of a child.

Looking at the child, Lin Yan recalled the cold little corpses at the refugee camp last night, and his heart softened. He reached into his robes and pulled out a few pieces of silver wrapped in cloth—all the original owner's savings, hidden in the cracks of the bed, totaling less than five taels. He kept two heavy pieces and tucked them inside his belt; the remaining three, still warm in his hand, he handed them to Zhou Shi.

"There's a general store called Li's at the east end of town. The owner's surname is Liu. She's a kind-hearted woman who used to give porridge to homeless people. Take Xiaobao there and ask if you can help her watch the store, do laundry, cook, or even sweep the yard. You'll at least get something to eat."

Zhou was stunned, her eyes fixed on the three pieces of silver, as if she had seen some priceless treasure. After a long while, tears welled up and streamed down her tear-streaked cheeks, splashing onto the cold back of her hand: "My benefactor... this, how can we accept this? You saved my and my child's lives, that's already an immense favor, how can we take your silver..."

"Take it." Lin Yan stuffed the silver into her hand. His hands were rough like old tree bark, full of cracks and calluses. "In this world, surviving is more important than anything else." He paused, then added, "Lock the door, and don't go out easily during the day. Wait until things calm down."

He didn't linger any longer. Watching Zhou Shi weep uncontrollably while clutching the silver, he turned and walked out of the mud house. The morning light stretched his shadow long, falling on the uneven dirt road, carrying a sense of both heaviness and lightness.

When Lin Yan returned to his dilapidated house, it was already broad daylight. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the window, casting dappled shadows on the floor. A faint smell of blood and dust still lingered in the air. Lin Yan closed the door, bolted it with the crooked bolt, and finally let out a long sigh of relief—a night of life-or-death struggle, devouring the blood and energy of two demonic beasts, and advancing from the early to the late stages of Body Tempering—it all happened too fast, like a bizarre dream. Only now could he truly find peace.

He looked down at himself. The filth and blood covering his body had long since dried; the black was the demon's blood, and the dark red was his own, forming hard scabs on his tattered leather armor that crumbled at the slightest touch. The armor itself was in a terrible state, torn to shreds by the demon's claws, hanging like a rag on his body. He removed the armor, revealing his bare upper body. Where there should have been several deep, bone-revealing wounds—his shoulder pierced by the demon, his back scratched by claws, his chest scraped by rubble—only faint red marks remained, smooth and even to the touch, without a single scar, as if the memories of those grievous injuries were all illusions.

Even more astonishing was the power surging within his body. He casually clenched his fist and could clearly feel the muscles beneath his skin contracting. It wasn't a brute force exertion, but rather a purer, more essential energy flowing slowly through his meridians. Each breath carried a rhythm, drawing in the sparse spiritual energy of heaven and earth, nourishing his muscles, bones, and flesh.

"This is the late stage of Body Tempering..." Lin Yan murmured, walking to the corner of the wall—where there was a bluestone slab, which the original owner used to line the pickled vegetable jar. It weighed at least three hundred jin, and he couldn't even push it before. Now, he bent down, gripped the edge of the slab with one hand, and felt a surge of power flow from his dantian to his arm. With a gentle lift, the slab rose up with a thud, as steady as lifting a piece of firewood.

He lifted the stone slab above his head, his arms motionless, his muscles flowing smoothly and clearly, showing no sign of strain. Sunlight shone on him, revealing a faint halo beneath his skin—the flow of his Soul-Devouring True Essence. He tossed the slab in his hand, then gently set it down, the ground making only a soft thud, barely stirring up any dust, and he didn't even break a sweat.

In the original owner's memories, the captains of the Demon Suppression Division, who were in the late stage of Body Tempering, had to circulate all their true energy and turn red in the face if they wanted to lift a 300-pound object with one hand. But he could do it with just his physical strength, and with ease. If he were to mobilize the gray-black true essence in his dantian, his strength would probably increase several times over.

"This physical strength is probably stronger than that of an ordinary martial artist who has trained hard for twenty years." Lin Yan had a good idea of ​​what was going on. The Soul Devouring Body devours the original blood and energy of demons, and the true essence it produces is far purer than the true energy that ordinary martial artists cultivate by tempering their bodies and absorbing thin spiritual energy. At the same level, his strength is at least 50% higher, or even more.

But that wasn't the biggest surprise. Lin Yan sat cross-legged on the creaking wooden bed, closed his eyes, and let his consciousness sink into his body—after entering the Body Tempering Realm, he would gain the ability to see internally, to "see" his meridians, bones, and the true essence flowing in his dantian. His consciousness drifted like a wisp of smoke to his dantian, where a fist-sized gray-black vortex was suspended, as solid as a piece of black jade, with faint sounds of wind and thunder as it rotated.

With each rotation of the vortex, wisps of grayish-black true essence separated out, flowing along the meridians, which had widened several times over, to his limbs and bones, nourishing every inch of flesh and every bone. At the same time, his body was automatically absorbing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. Those thin white wisps of energy were drawn into the vortex and instantly purified into grayish-black true essence, merging into the vortex and making it more solid.

"This is the Soul Devouring True Essence..." Lin Yan's consciousness touched the vortex and felt a cold and domineering power coming from it, with the characteristic of devouring everything. He could clearly feel that if he encountered a demon at this moment, this true essence would automatically surge out and greedily devour the other party's blood and qi, without him having to deliberately control it.

Lin Yan calmed his mind and tried to perceive his own "life." At first, it was all chaos; he couldn't feel anything. But as his consciousness became more focused, a strange sensation gradually emerged—he couldn't "see" its specific form, but he could "feel" a flame burning deep within his consciousness. That flame was formless and intangible, yet it truly existed, representing his vitality, the essence of his life. The size and brightness of the flame were closely related to the strength of his life force.

He could vaguely "remember" that the original owner's life force was only the size of a candle, dim in light, flickering in the wind, and likely to go out at any moment—that was how the original owner looked, weak and sickly, with depleted vitality. But now, the flame had grown to the size of a human head, burning fiercely, its light steady and bright, with a faint golden hue at the edges, each pulse radiating vibrant life, as if one could hear the pulse of life.

"Lifespan estimated at 120 years..." Lin Yan murmured to himself, his heart pounding wildly. In this era rife with demonic chaos, living to 100 was already a legend. Most people died either from the clutches of demons, from famine, from war, or from a minor cold. But he, theoretically, could live to 120, provided he didn't die prematurely.

What if he broke through to the Profound Realm? The Core Formation Realm? Or even higher realms? Would his lifespan continue to increase? Five hundred years? A thousand years? Or even… immortality? This thought, like a seed, instantly took root and sprouted in his heart, sending a shiver down his spine—it was the yearning for longevity, an obsession etched into the very bones of humanity. Before, this was merely a vague legend, but now, it had become a clearly visible path—as long as he continuously devoured demons and raised his realm, his lifespan could be extended indefinitely.

But after the initial euphoria, calm followed. Lin Yan recalled the sensation of absorbing the demon's blood and energy: the violent, scorching demonic energy surged into his body like boiling magma; if his Soul-Devouring Body hadn't forcibly crushed and transformed it, he would have exploded and died long ago. What concerned him even more was that the demon's fear, resentment, and hatred before its death—those negative emotions transformed into shattered fragments of its spirit—were also devoured by him.

Although the fragments were eventually obliterated by the Devouring Spirit Essence, their residual effects remained. Lin Yan touched his face, sensing a hardening in his personality—last night, witnessing the carnage of the refugee camp, while heartbroken, he didn't feel the nausea and trembling he used to; instead, he was unusually calm. Faced with the demon's claws, he could even calmly choose to trade injury for life. This change unsettled him: Was devouring demons also devouring their bestiality? If he devoured too many, would he also become a monster without emotions?

This worry weighed on his heart like a stone, but he quickly suppressed it. He knew all too well the cruelty of this world—to become stronger meant death, to be killed by demons meant death, to be oppressed to death by the Demon Suppression Bureau meant death, and one could even disappear silently into some corner because of a meal or a sip of water. Rather than worrying about future dangers, he should seize the opportunity to survive in the present.

"Besides, there might be a solution." Lin Yan clenched his fist. "Since the Soul Devouring Body can transform demonic blood, we might be able to find a way to purify our bestial nature in the future. The most urgent thing is to familiarize ourselves with this ability and become stronger as soon as possible."

He looked inward at his dantian again, watching the swirling vortex of energy, and tried to mobilize his true essence—the vortex spun faster, and his true essence surged into his meridians like a tide, nourishing his body. He could feel the tendons and bones beneath his skin getting stronger little by little, but the vortex also shrank slightly. "It seems that daily cultivation can also increase true essence, but it's too slow." Lin Yan understood that if he wanted to break through quickly, he still had to rely on devouring the blood and energy of demons.

He opened his eyes; the sunlight outside the window was already blinding. Sounds rose and fell throughout the town: the banging of mending the town gate, the weeping of women who had lost loved ones, the cries of children from hunger, and the shouts of soldiers from the Demon Suppression Bureau reprimanding the displaced people—the aftershocks of last night's demon attack still lingered in Blackstone Town.

News of the twenty-three deaths in the refugee camp had spread throughout the town, and panic was spreading like a plague. The wealthy families in town were organizing their servants to reinforce their courtyard walls and hide their gold, silver, and valuables; the poor people, on the other hand, gathered under the crooked tree at the entrance of town, discussing whether to flee to the county town to the south, but they were afraid of encountering demons on the way, and they argued heatedly.

Lin Yan knew this was just the beginning. With the spiritual veins depleted and demonic energy rampant, such attacks would only increase in number and frequency. A small place like Blackstone Town, without powerful martial artists to protect it, would sooner or later become a hunting ground for demons. He had to leave, but not now—his strength was insufficient, and he knew nothing about the cultivation system or geographical distribution of this world. Leaving rashly would only hasten his death.

"The Demon Suppression Division might be an opportunity," Lin Yan thought. Even if the Demon Suppression Division was corrupt, it was still an official institution with a library, cultivation resources, and information about demons and martial arts. He had performed a great service last night, and Zhao Mang had promised to recommend him for a reward; this was precisely his chance to infiltrate the core of the Demon Suppression Division.

Having made up his mind, Lin Yan got up and walked to the water vat in the corner of the room—the water in the vat was still from a few days ago, and it was a bit murky. He scooped up a ladleful and splashed it on his face. The icy water invigorated him. He looked at his reflection in the vat: it was still that thin face, his eyebrows and eyes unchanged, but his eyes were completely different—his former timidity and confusion had disappeared, replaced by sharpness and determination; his skin, due to the transformation he had undergone in the Body Tempering Realm, shone with a faint jade-like luster. Standing there, he was like a sharp sword hidden in its sheath, its edge just beginning to be revealed.

"From today onwards, I am the new Lin Yan," he whispered to his reflection.

He pushed open the door, and sunlight streamed in, its warmth bringing a sense of peace. The mark on his chest throbbed slightly, as if in response to his resolve. The Soul-Devouring Body had awakened; the path to immortality lay before him. He would live, he would grow stronger, and he would see what lay hidden at the end of this chaotic era of demons.

Lin Yan took a deep breath and strode towards the Demon Suppression Division. The morning light shone on him, casting his shadow beneath his feet; a new day had truly begun.