The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

The Dharma image extinguished, and the corpse fell.

Everything happened too fast, too strangely, and too beyond comprehension.

Is this... the difference between a Purple Mansion True Person and a Golden Core True Monarch?

A world of difference?

No.

This is an absolute crushing defeat on a life level.

It is the despair and absurdity of mortals trying to understand the means of the gods.

"God! She is God!"

It's unclear who uttered those words first, but they completely ignited the fuse of panic.

"Run!"

"The elders and leaders are all dead! Run!"

"Sect Master, save me! Grand Elder, save me!"

Cries, screams, trampling sounds, the sound of weapons being thrown...

Chaos, like a flood bursting its banks, swept across the entire square in an instant.

The once orderly formation crumbled in an instant.

Tens of thousands of Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment demonic cultivators fled frantically in all directions like headless flies.

They pushed and trampled each other, just to get further and further away from that still quietly standing blue figure.

Order has collapsed.

The will to fight has crumbled.

What remains is only the most primal fear of death and awe of the incomprehensible.

Zuo Qingqiu remained standing in the same spot, not even the hem of her clothes fluttering in the chaotic airflow.

She simply withdrew her fingers from the sword, sheathed it, and then gently raised her head.

His gaze swept past the collapsing, chaotic crowd, past the wreckage and severed limbs, and finally landed squarely on the black throne before the Hall of Ten Thousand Souls.

It landed on the witch who wore a blood-red dress, whose face remained calm, as if the chaos before her did not exist.

It also landed on the old man beside her, who was leaning on a skull cane, his body hunched over, his breath weak, but his eyes still as deep and unfathomable as an ancient well.

Now, only the two of them are left.

Zuo Qingqiu loosened his grip on the green steel sword slightly.

The tension in his heart, which had been constantly on edge, guarding against the possibility of a True Lord-level killing weapon from the other side, finally eased slightly.

Even the most powerful weapon is just a tool.

Ultimately, it requires human intervention and control.

Now, eight of the ten Purple Palaces have been removed.

Only an old man at the Great Perfection of the Purple Mansion realm, whose lifespan was nearing its end and whose vital energy was depleted, and a witch at the mid-stage of the Purple Mansion realm, whose temperament was obsessive but lacked sufficient foundation, remained.

Can two people... still unleash that ultimate trump card that requires precise coordination among multiple people and may even come at a huge cost?

The possibility is now extremely slim.

In other words, she no longer needs to be restrained.

It can only be said that her strategy of playing dumb to outmaneuver others was very successful.

Despite knowing that she was a True Lord, because her cultivation level was only "early stage of Purple Mansion" on the surface, these demons would still subconsciously treat her as a Purple Mansion cultivator and deal with her in the way of a Purple Mansion cultivator.

But how could they have imagined that the fighting styles between True Lords and Purple Mansions had become completely different?

If they use the methods of the Purple Mansion to deal with the True Lord, who else but them will die?

Zuo Qingqiu took a slow step.

She stepped over the shattered bronze gate, over the damp black stone slabs, over the spreading pools of blood and scattered limbs, and walked step by step toward the black steps in front of the Hall of Ten Thousand Souls.

Wherever it passed, the low-level demonic cultivators who collapsed and fled were as if they had seen the most terrifying plague god, desperately dodging to both sides, making way for a wide road that was filled with blood and fear.

No one dared to stop them.

No one even dared to look directly at them.

Finally, she reached the end of the plaza and stopped in front of the steps, also paved with black stone, that led to the Hall of Ten Thousand Souls.

The rain started falling again, washing away the bloodstains on the steps, but it couldn't wash away the thick, overwhelming stench of blood and despair in the air.

Zuo Qingqiu slightly raised her head, her gaze from under her bamboo hat calmly looking at the witch on the throne, then sweeping over the old man beside her who had bowed his head and closed his eyes as if asleep.

Then, she spoke softly, her voice chillingly clear amidst the rain:

"Now, it's your turn."

The steel sword trembled slightly in her hand.

"Use whatever methods you have..."

-

Zuo Qingqiu's calm yet cold ultimatum echoed on the empty steps in front of the Hall of Ten Thousand Souls, mingling with the pattering rain, striking the hearts of every survivor.

Below the steps, in the plaza, the cries and trampling sounds of the Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment demonic cultivators fleeing in disarray had not yet completely subsided, and the air was filled with a thick stench of blood, burnt flesh, and despair.

The headless corpses of eight Purple Mansion Demons lay on the ground, charred and twisted, still emitting faint wisps of smoke, like eight silent tombstones, telling the story of the bizarre and thorough massacre that had just taken place.

Above the steps, before the throne.

Xia Zhu simply stared at Zuo Qingqiu calmly, without saying a word, in response to her almost condemnatory words.

But Cui Guzhai, who had been silent like a statue, moved at this moment.

He slowly took two steps forward.

His hands, thin as chicken claws and covered with age spots, gripped the skull cane tightly. He walked with a limp, as if he might fall at any moment.

He raised his head and looked with his deep-set eyes, which only had two faint green lights left, at Zuo Qingqiu, who stood ten steps below the steps, wearing a blue robe and a bamboo hat, holding a sword.

Suddenly, he grinned and let out a hoarse, dry laugh that sounded like a broken bellows.

"Hehe...hehehe..."

Laughter echoed across the empty steps, carrying an indescribable eeriness.

"A...living True Lord..." Cui Guzhai stopped laughing, his voice hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against stone, "I never thought...that after living for nearly twelve hundred years, with the yellow earth almost reaching my neck...that I would actually...actually be able to see a living True Lord before I die...hehe...truly...a stroke of good fortune..."

As he spoke, he shook his head slightly, his withered face etched with wrinkles, his expression a mixture of crying and laughing.

But the next moment, the "smile" on his face vanished without a trace, replaced by a bone-chilling coldness and a kind of almost manic resolve.

His dark green eyes suddenly flashed with a terrifying light as he stared intently at Zuo Qingqiu. His voice abruptly rose, becoming sharp and piercing:

"What a pity..."

"I... was born with the lowly fate of a beggar. My parents died early, I fought with wild dogs for food in dilapidated temples, and I fought with hungry ghosts for bones in mass graves."

"This life should have rotted in a stinking ditch long ago..."

"Now, my time is running out, like a lamp burning out... Before I die—"

He slammed the skull cane in his hand heavily onto the ground.

"Thump—!"

A deep, resounding thud, like the beating of a drum, echoed outwards from where the cane struck the ground.

It was not the propagation of sound, but a strange shockwave that seemed to act directly on the earth's veins and the entire Yanfu Mountain.

"—Drag a true lord down to the Yellow Springs..."

At this moment, Cui Gucha's voice became incredibly clear, incredibly cold, and incredibly insane.

"I, Cui Guqi, feel..."

"It would be my great honor!"

The moment the words "It is my great honor" were uttered.

"Buzz—!"

The entire Yanfu Mountain Range seemed to be instantly awakened from its ancient slumber, emitting a deep, grand, and ominous hum.

Starting from where Cui Guzha slammed his staff, countless scarlet, blood-red, extremely complex and mysterious runes, like living venomous snakes, suddenly appeared, lit up, and spread from the black rock-paved ground, steps, walls, and even the void.

The speed was far beyond imagination.

In the blink of an eye, these scarlet runes had interwoven into an enormous, blood-red light net that covered the entire summit of Yanfu Mountain and even spread rapidly into the depths of the mountain.

No, it's not a fiber optic network.

Instead, it is an unimaginably vast entity, based on the entire Yanfu Mountain range, which has been laid out for countless years and is now being fully activated...

Blood Sacrifice Array!

"The battle begins—!"

"Zhu Xian—!"

Cui Guzhai used all his strength to roar hoarsely.

The moment the last syllable left his lips, he suddenly opened his arms wide and looked up at the sky.

The decaying aura of the Great Perfection of the Purple Mansion around him erupted wildly like a final burst of light, pouring into the blood-red array beneath his feet.