The pale-faced scholar gave a faint smile and did not answer, only saying to himself, "If the Wan Jiangu of those days stood here and spoke the words you just spoke, we wretches and clowns in your eyes would still have some scruples. But with those paltry tricks of cultivation from your Vajra Sect, you had best go hide behind the backs of those Canglan Sect people!"

The demon cult crowd roared with laughter, and even from the dark woods behind them, faint sounds of mockery drifted out.

The Venerable Great Strength's face flushed red at once, his expression one of utter fury, but Daoist Grey Rock of the Canglan Sect beside him exchanged a glance with Tian Buhui and Su Wan, and in their eyes too there was worry. From that laughter alone, it was clear that not only had the demon cult's reinforcements arrived, but their numbers had swelled greatly as well.

This battle, it seemed, would be fraught with peril beyond measure.

"Outrageous!" A great shout suddenly rang out—it was Stone, standing behind the Venerable Great Strength, who leaped into the air, unwilling to let his master be insulted. His Demon-Breaking Staff blazed with golden light as he charged headlong at the pale-faced scholar.

Tian Buhui and the others were all startled, and the Venerable Great Strength shouted urgently, "Stone, come back! Do not act rashly!"

But Stone had struck so abruptly, and with such speed, that in an instant the golden light of the Demon-Breaking Staff had already reached the pale-faced scholar. Yet the scholar showed no sign of panic; he merely raised his right hand, a faint blue light flickering in his palm, facing square-on the onrushing Demon-Breaking Staff.

In that instant, so swift it was, the golden light of the Demon-Breaking Staff, like an arrow loosed from the string, crashed with a roar against the pale-faced scholar's palm. In a flash, the crowd's eyes blurred; there was only glittering golden light and a fine hissing in the air, and the pale-faced scholar's figure could no longer be seen at all.

The young disciples of the orthodox side burst into thunderous cheers, but the faces of Daoist Grey Rock, Tian Buhui, and the other leaders all darkened.

After a moment, the golden light gradually faded, and the crowd fell silent—for there in the field stood the pale-faced scholar, composed and unhurried, having stopped Stone's mighty Demon-Breaking golden light with one hand alone. Struggle as Stone might in midair, he could not advance another fraction of an inch.

He merely laughed and said, "Young man, go home and cultivate for another hundred years!"

With that, he flung his right hand sharply. The crowd saw another streak of azure light flash past; Shi Tou was flung backward as though struck by a heavy blow, while the Demon-Breaking Staff, after a shrill ringing cry, shot straight up into the sky and flew high aloft.

The Venerable Mighty Strength leaped up and caught the wounded Shi Tou as he fell back. A close look told him the boy had suffered only a jolt and was otherwise unharmed, and only then did he set his heart at ease—but his fury only mounted. He spun about, ready to strike.

Yet all at once a hand reached over from the side and caught him—it was Daoist Cangyan. His face was grim as frost, and he said coldly, "Just who are you? How does this Qiankun Qingguang Ring, lost for a thousand years, come to be in your hand?"

The Venerable Mighty Strength started, and cried out, "What? The Qiankun Qingguang Ring?"

Of those present, the demon cult included, eight out of ten were visibly shaken. Zhang Qingyue's curiosity was stirred, and he asked Song Dayi in a low voice, "Eldest Senior Brother, is this magic treasure very formidable?"

Song Dayi had not yet recovered from his astonishment. He nodded and whispered, "I once heard Master speak of it—this ring is a magic treasure of terrifying power, a ninth-heaven divine artifact, but it has been missing for a thousand years. I never thought it would reappear in the world today!"

Zhang Qingyue drew a sharp breath. Then he heard the pale-faced scholar say to Daoist Cangyan with a faint smile, "I am but a nobody, a mere foot soldier these days under the command of the Lord of the Underworld Sect."

The Lord of the Underworld smiled and shook his head. "Brother Long, you belittle yourself too much."

Standing nearby, Baiduzi, the Ancestor Duanmu, and the Old Vampire Fiend—who had by now also walked over—all turned almost at once to look at this pale-faced scholar whom the Lord of the Underworld addressed as "Brother Long." Yet his right hand was tucked within his sleeve, and nothing of what he held could be seen. But given how certain Daoist Cangyan had been, and how the scholar had not denied it, it was more than likely he truly possessed this divine ring.

At the mere thought of the various wondrous powers attributed to this divine ring in legend—and cultivators of the Dao all set surpassing store by their magic treasures—they fairly burned with excitement. Yet though the three of them had appeared at the same time as the pale-faced scholar, they had not come by the same road, nor had they ever met the man; they knew only that shortly after their own arrival, this master of profound cultivation had mysteriously appeared at the Lord of the Underworld's side.

Baiduzi cast one more fierce glance at the scholar's right hand, then turned to the Lord of the Underworld and said, "Lord of the Underworld, we have never met this brother of yours either. I did not know that the Underworld Sect had produced such a master—and when?"

The Lord of the Underworld smiled and said, "Brother Baidu, our Underworld Sect is but a small faction of the Holy Cult. Naturally we cannot compare with your Ten Thousand Poisons Gate."

Baiduzi gave a cold hum. He belonged to the Ten Thousand Poisons Gate, one of the four great factions of the demon cult, and had come to this remote place at the behest of his sect master. Indeed, this was the first time in a hundred years that he had left his mountain.

Yet though he kept to seclusion, he knew the affairs of the demon cult clearly enough: today the cult was led by four great factions. The Ten Thousand Poisons Gate, the Soul-Bewitching Sect, and the Longevity Hall were all great sects that had risen only after the Black-Hearted Elder's death eight hundred years ago and the decline of the Blood-Refining Hall; they had long histories and deep roots. Only the Underworld Sect was different—it had sprung up suddenly three hundred years ago, and its masters had cropped up like bamboo shoots after rain, so that within two hundred years it had already divided the demon cult's realm among the other three. A wondrous thing indeed.

Within the demon cult, the clash of power was everywhere; every great faction dreamed of attaining the dominance the Blood-Refining Hall had enjoyed in the days of the Black-Hearted Elder. But the factions were evenly matched, and even the many lesser demon sects mostly attached themselves to one of the four great ones, so that no clear superior could be told. Thus, though they schemed against one another in secret, on the surface they barely maintained a semblance of harmony.

Before Baiduzi set out, the master of the Ten Thousand Poisons Gate had instructed him personally to find some chance to probe the Underworld Sect—what secrets did it hold? How great was its strength in truth? For years now a rumor had circulated quietly through the demon cult: that the supreme sacred scripture of the cult, the "Heavenly Book," had already fallen into the hands of the Underworld Sect.