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

In his heart, his junior sister was never just a fellow disciple.

Rather...family.

In this cold, cruel, bloody, and scheming world of demonic cultivation, they were among the few family members he could completely trust and let down his guard with.

Later, after his master passed away, he succeeded him as sect leader.

The junior sister possesses exceptional talent, but her personality is becoming increasingly stubborn and eccentric, which clashes with his philosophy as the sect leader who strives for "stability" and "continuation."

He was busy with sect affairs, balancing various forces, and dealing with the pressure from righteous sects. He gradually drifted apart from his junior sister, and they even had arguments from time to time.

But deep down, he always reserved a tender spot for her.

When he defected, he did consider forcibly taking her with him.

But he knew his junior sister too well. That stubborn, inflexible girl valued her promise to her master more than anything else, and considered "protecting the Diluo Sect" as the sole meaning of her life.

He can't take her with him.

Forcibly taking her away will only make her hate him for the rest of her life, and she might even turn on him and fight on the spot.

Therefore, he had no choice but to "give up" on her.

Using high-sounding reasons like "the sect needs to preserve its flame" and "we will make a comeback in the future," I convince myself, and... deceive myself.

He thought he was already mentally prepared.

But when that moment finally arrived...

"Tick-tock".

A faint, almost inaudible sound of liquid dripping.

A drop of scalding liquid slid down the inside of the demon mask, down the cold cheek, and onto the back of his black leather-gloved hand, spreading out a small, dark, damp patch.

Then came the second drop, the third drop...

Tears, like a burst dam, surged uncontrollably, instantly soaking the lining of the mask.

He clenched his teeth so hard that blood seeped from his gums, and a salty, fishy taste filled his mouth.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms, trying to use physical pain to suppress the excruciating, soul-wrenching agony.

But to no avail.

His heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, being squeezed and kneaded so hard that he could barely breathe.

His vision blurred, and he seemed to hear again the clear voice of his junior sister chasing after him as a child, calling out "Senior Brother, Senior Brother!" He could see her stubbornly raising her head and saying to him, "I promised Master that I would protect the sect," with an undeniable, unyielding light in her dark red vertical pupils...

The feeling of suffocation, like icy seawater, completely overwhelmed him.

He was immersed in grief over the loss of his loved one for a very long time.

Then a deep, respectful voice sounded not far behind him.

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief!"

Li Qingye's body jolted violently!

They are the "Flying Fish Guards" who are responsible for clearing the battlefield and have come to report!

I absolutely cannot let him find out that I cried!

It was almost an instinctive reaction etched into his bones. The moment the sound rang out, the vast magical power of the late-stage Purple Mansion realm within his body began to circulate on its own, and an invisible, scorching aura instantly swept across his face!

The tear stains on her face, along with the dampness inside the mask, evaporated completely in an instant, leaving no trace.

He took a deep breath, a breath that was icy cold and carried the morning mist from the mountaintop, but with this breath he forcibly suppressed the churning blood and bitterness in his chest.

In the blink of an eye, all the sorrow, vulnerability, and confusion in his eyes vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed, and he regained that deep, cold, sharp, and unfathomable indifference.

He slowly turned around.

His movements were steady and smooth, without the slightest hesitation.

It was as if his previous emotional breakdown was just an illusion.

The "Flying Fish Guard" who came to report was also dressed in a black flying fish robe, with a bronze Shura mask on his face. He knelt on one knee at the edge of the pool of blood three zhang away from him, with a respectful posture, his head lowered, not daring to look directly at him.

"Speak," Li Qingye said, her voice coming through the demon mask, carrying a unique, magically enhanced dullness and hoarseness, revealing no emotional fluctuation.

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, the sect has been largely cleared. Those who resisted have all been executed, and those who surrendered have been gathered and detained. Important treasuries, the library, the alchemy room, and the weapon-forging room have been initially secured, and the restrictions are intact, awaiting the Commander-in-Chief's inspection. The remaining Qi Refining stage disciples of the original Changqing Sect, totaling 8,237, have all gathered in the mountain gate square, awaiting the Commander-in-Chief's decision." The Flying Fish Guard spoke steadily and clearly.

Li Qingye listened quietly, her gaze beneath the mask sweeping over the ruins below, still busily being cleared, over the mountains of corpses, and finally settling on the distant mountain gate plaza, shrouded in a protective array of light, where shadowy figures could be faintly seen.

The Changqing Sect was indeed "wiped out".

Those who were wiped out were the Supreme Elders of the Purple Mansion stage, the backbone of the Foundation Establishment stage, and the core disciples who were loyal to the sect and dared to rebel.

However, he did not touch the large number of Qi Refining stage disciples, as well as the countless mortal cities and villages that the sect relied on.

Firstly, although this group of "traitors" were all elites of the Diluo Sect, the weakest of whom were at the early Foundation Establishment stage, and there were more than a dozen Grand Masters of the Purple Mansion stage, their total number was only a few hundred.

To rule over the vast territory of the Wuling Mountains, spanning hundreds of thousands of miles and encompassing hundreds of millions of people, it is absolutely impossible without grassroots manpower. These local Qi Refining cultivators, familiar with the environment and understanding human nature, are the best and most readily available "tools."

Secondly, and more importantly, it's about maintaining "stability." For the vast majority of the population, ordinary people, they don't care whether the "immortal" above them is named "Changqing" or "Li."

As long as the taxes aren't too outrageous and people can make a living, and occasionally see "immortal masters" casting spells to bring rain, cure diseases, and drive away monsters, they will accept the rule with peace of mind.

If even Qi Refining cultivators were to suffer a large-scale purge, it would inevitably cause panic and unrest among the lower classes, halt food production, and even trigger riots by displaced people. Although it wouldn't affect the overall situation, it would be extremely troublesome.

The majority of Qi Refining cultivators were retained, with only the upper echelons being replaced. This minimized the impact on secular society and allowed them to quickly establish themselves and consolidate their gains.

Ruthless, yet efficient.

"Well done." Li Qingye nodded, his voice still calm. "Have them wait in the square. I... will be there shortly."

"Yes! Your subordinate obeys!" The Flying Fish Guard clasped his hands in acceptance, stood up, took a few steps back, and then turned and quickly left to continue the cleanup work.

After the Flying Fish Guards had gone far away, Li Qingye turned around again and faced the rolling sea of ​​clouds outside the cliff once more.

The mountain wind was still biting, making his flying fish robe flutter loudly.

He stood silently, his face beneath the mask expressionless.

The grief that had just been forcibly suppressed, like an undercurrent sealed beneath a layer of ice, had not disappeared, but had only become colder and more intense.

My junior sister is dead.

The foundation of the Diluo Sect in Yanfu Mountain has probably been completely wiped out.

From then on, the "Diluo Sect" ceased to exist in this world.

Only the "new force" [Qingyemen], lurking in the shadows of the Western Lands, awaits its day of revenge.

Within a century, the Qingye Sect must disguise itself as a righteous sect to avoid the wrath of True Monarch Zixu. During this period, the sect's cultivation resources will no longer come from its own talent, but will instead imitate righteous sects by consuming spirit rice and spirit beast meat for cultivation. This will certainly be difficult for these demonic cultivators to adapt to. However, it is a compromise they must make for survival.

A century later, once True Lord Zixu has forgotten about this matter, they can change their banner, transform themselves, and return to the demonic path. The "piglets" fattened up over the past century can then be slaughtered.

a long time.

He slowly raised his hand and gently stroked the cold, hideous demon mask on his face with his gloved fingers.

The mask felt cool to the touch, with the hardness of metal.

It was as if it was reminding him that from now on, he was no longer Li Qingye, the sect leader of the Diluo Sect.

He is... the Avenger in disguise.

It is... a lurking venomous snake.

It is... a demon that wants to drag Taihua Gate and Zuo Qingqiu into hell.