The Demon Lord Wants a Vacation - Chapter 13: Hold His Hand

“A formation meant to kill this Lord couldn’t even claim Song Gui’s life? All it managed was to scorch a small valley?”

Though Duanmu Wuqiu lacked broad knowledge, he had grown up amidst strife and possessed an instinctive grasp of battlefield strategy. He immediately pinpointed the flaw in Luo Xianyun’s theory.

Having come to understand Duanmu Wuqiu’s sharp analytical abilities, Luo Xianyun replied without surprise, “There exists a type of formation that retaliates with a force equal to that which it receives.”

“Then Song Gui should have sustained injuries,” Duanmu Wuqiu countered, “but in the vision I saw, he emerged completely unscathed.”

“There is another kind,” Luo Xianyun continued, “that reacts to malice and murderous intent. The more wicked energy it senses, the stronger it becomes.”

Song Gui had barely dipped his feet into the demonic sects, and had taken very few lives—he carried almost no wicked qi.

Duanmu Wuqiu, on the other hand, had cut a bloody path through the demonic world, annihilating entire sects on a whim. Upon regaining his freedom, he’d slaughtered bands of mortal outlaws.

Though he had only ever killed those who endangered mortal lives, he had still wielded cultivator might against ordinary humans. That guilt, those deaths—they were his burden to bear.

He had ended countless lives, and the wicked qi he carried had seeped into his very appearance.

When his face was at rest, others saw an aura of menace and volatility.

When he smiled with joy, others perceived bloodlust.

So thick was the evil aura around him that his mere presence stirred dread in those nearby.

At times, a mere glance from him would prompt a demonic cultivator to grip their weapon and growl, “Duanmu Wuqiu, if you’re here to kill me, I’ll drag you down with me!”

It exasperated him.

This Lord doesn’t wish to kill you. He simply glanced your way, nothing more.

Duanmu Wuqiu knew full well he was steeped in wicked qi. After hearing Luo Xianyun’s explanation, he looked at Song Gui—handsome, but utterly forgettable—and nodded thoughtfully.

“If the formation grows stronger with wicked qi, then it makes sense that Song Gui walked away unharmed.”

Luo Xianyun released a quiet breath.

He hadn’t lied. Both types of formations did exist—but Song Gui shouldn’t have emerged entirely unscathed.

Most likely, he had relied on some powerful sect artifact for protection.

As an undercover agent in demonic territory, Song Gui would undoubtedly have been equipped with defensive tools. Luo Xianyun knew he possessed an immortal-tier robe called Hidden Wind—undetectable, invisible even when worn.

According to the Savior System, if neither it nor Luo Xianyun had interfered, Duanmu Wuqiu would have killed Song Gui.

But if Song Gui had Hidden Wind, even Duanmu Wuqiu wouldn’t have been able to finish him off quickly. The robe would’ve allowed him to escape, or at the very least, survive the first blow and explain himself. He shouldn’t have died without saying a word.

That robe must’ve been consumed in the blaze that scorched the valley, leaving Song Gui defenseless.

A series of unfortunate events had set in motion the chain that would lead to a deadly grudge between Duanmu Wuqiu and the Beichen Sect.

Luo Xianyun couldn’t help but wonder—if events had truly unfolded this way, what would have become of him?

Would he have been slain by Duanmu Wuqiu alongside his sect?

Unlikely.

He’d been secluded on Lingdu Peak, completely isolated from the outside world.

Unless someone specifically sought him out, he would never have known the Beichen Sect had fallen.

Duanmu Wuqiu, untethered and masterless, was ignorant of many matters within the cultivation world. If he didn’t know Luo Xianyun existed, he would never have gone to Lingdu Peak.

Based on his understanding of both parties, Luo Xianyun was certain Duanmu Wuqiu would’ve only killed Song Gui, assuming it a favor to the righteous sects—removing a traitor, nothing more. He wouldn’t have viewed Beichen Sect as an enemy.

But the Beichen Sect Master would not have seen it that way.

After Song Gui’s death, the Sect Master would assume their spy’s identity had been compromised, and that Duanmu Wuqiu had executed him in cold blood.

To him, it would appear as though the demonic sects were declaring war.

Naturally, he would seek out Duanmu Wuqiu to settle the score. But with Duanmu Wuqiu’s abrasive nature, anything he said would only fan the flames. Even silence would have been better.

And once the two clashed, far from the Beichen Sect and the protection of the World-Waking Bell, Luo Xianyun doubted the Sect Master stood a chance—Duanmu Wuqiu’s power was nothing short of terrifying.

The Sect Master would not have come alone.

The righteous path favored formations and strength in numbers.

He may have brought every Law Body-level cultivator in Beichen Sect. Duanmu Wuqiu would’ve slaughtered them all.

After such carnage, Duanmu Wuqiu would see the sect as his mortal enemy. And, true to his nature—who never even left a crumb uneaten—he’d go to Beichen Sect to wipe out the remainder.

With all high-level cultivators gone, there’d be no one left to ring the World-Waking Bell. The destruction of the entire sect would follow.

When the disciples—young, desperate—rushed forward like lambs to the slaughter, Duanmu Wuqiu would cut them down like ripe fruit. Then he’d leave, never knowing Luo Xianyun had remained at Lingdu Peak.

And when Luo Xianyun emerged from seclusion to find his home reduced to ash, the cause would no longer matter.

Duanmu Wuqiu would have become the executioner of Beichen Sect.

They would have become sworn enemies, fated to meet only in battle.

If it had truly come to that, Luo Xianyun thought, I would stop at nothing to kill Duanmu Wuqiu.

Perhaps he himself would have been one of the forces that pushed Duanmu Wuqiu to end the world.

Though injured, Luo Xianyun possessed a heavenly spiritual root, favored by heaven and earth. With such a gift, even one on the brink of death could unleash power beyond Mahayana for a short time.

If he were willing to sacrifice his life, he had many means of hurting Duanmu Wuqiu.

That thought weighed heavily on his heart, and he let out a quiet sigh.

None of it had come to pass—yet even the idea was sorrowful.

“Why the sigh?” Duanmu Wuqiu asked, attuned to every shift in Luo Xianyun’s mood. “What troubles you? This Lord will take care of it.”

You’re the most troublesome one, Luo Xianyun thought silently.

Though their acquaintance was short, he now understood Duanmu Wuqiu better than most.

He was a man submerged in darkness—pure in some ways, but easily shaped by those around him.

Had he been raised in righteousness, with careful guidance, he could have become a paragon—a beacon for the righteous path.

But instead, he had been cast into the demonic world and only ever encountered cruelty.

He held no goodwill toward others. He didn’t value life—neither his own nor anyone else’s. He acted solely on whim.

He didn’t care to protect the world. His only reason for sparing it was that destroying it felt like too much trouble.

If he ever came to truly loathe it, he would obliterate it without hesitation.

Duanmu Wuqiu was a reckless child armed with boundless strength. He needed someone to teach him right from wrong.

Thankfully, the Savior System had roused Luo Xianyun early enough to change the tide.

Luo Xianyun loved the world and its people. He had once offered his life to repair the heavens. Now, guiding Duanmu Wuqiu onto the right path was a duty he bore gladly.

“I was just thinking,” Luo Xianyun said lightly, “you’ve been away from the valley for some time now. Wouldn’t the infiltrators have used this chance to activate a formation?”

“This Lord is here now. What’s there to fear?” Duanmu Wuqiu said, full of confidence.

“You being here is precisely the problem,” Luo Xianyun replied. “Their goal is you. If they’ve finished the array, your return will trigger a far greater reaction than before.

“You might survive—but the valley wouldn’t.”

In that case, it wouldn’t be Song Gui who destroyed the valley—it would be Duanmu Wuqiu himself.

To him, the thought of destroying his own home was far more devastating.

“Then this Lord simply won’t go back! He’ll find them and kill them first!” Duanmu Wuqiu snapped.

If the problem couldn’t be solved, then the source would be eliminated. That was how the Demonic Sovereign handled things—straightforward and brutal.

Luo Xianyun shook his head. “Even if you kill them, it might not dismantle the array. And if they know they’re going to die, what’s to stop them from destroying the valley out of spite?”

Duanmu Wuqiu, hearing this, fell silent. He had already thought of that possibility.

Demonic cultivators were always resorting to such depraved tactics—inflicting harm upon themselves solely to bring ruin to others, all to earn the hatred and contempt of the world.

But what else could he do? He had already uncovered their conspiracy and returned to the valley, and yet he still had no way to avert the disaster. Duanmu Wuqiu’s fists clenched unconsciously.

For the first time, he felt powerless.

He was already so strong—why, then, was there still something he could not accomplish?

In the past, he had failed to save his parents and siblings. And now, he couldn’t even preserve this small valley?

Images of the demonic cultivators surged through Duanmu Wuqiu’s mind, each one suspicious in his eyes.

He gritted his teeth. “Then this Lord will simply slaughter them all in retribution for Wangcai and the others! Once I eradicate the demonic cultivators, I’ll establish a new valley—one no one can ever destroy again!”

Luo Xianyun looked upon Duanmu Wuqiu’s tormented expression, and pity stirred in his heart.

No one had ever taught this man how to confront a problem—he only knew force.

No matter how powerful Duanmu Wuqiu was, at this moment, he seemed utterly lost.

Without waiting for the Savior System’s prodding, Luo Xianyun gently reached out and took Duanmu Wuqiu’s hand, prying open his clenched fingers one by one, turning his fist into an open palm.

Duanmu Wuqiu stared at him, momentarily stunned.

Luo Xianyun said softly, “Now is not the time for vengeance, but for finding a way to protect the valley. A clenched fist crushes what it tries to hold. Only an open palm can support what is precious.”

Duanmu Wuqiu realized that with his current knowledge, he had no way to save the valley.

He would have to lower his head and seek help from another.

But demonic cultivators never bowed to anyone.

To lower one’s head meant being stepped on.

He had been trampled too many times in his youth and had long since taught himself never to yield to anyone.

But this man before him was not a demonic cultivator—he was Luo Xianyun.

Duanmu Wuqiu hesitated, wavering over whether to ask for his help.

Yet Luo Xianyun, unwilling to see him struggle, offered a path forward.

“There’s a better solution,” he said. “Let me enter the valley and disable the array from within.”

“Won’t the array be triggered?” Duanmu Wuqiu asked.

Luo Xianyun smiled. “By what? My body is damaged, incapable of sustaining spiritual energy. If I expend all my true qi beforehand, I’ll be just like those birds who enter the valley without triggering the trap—devoid of spiritual energy. How could I set it off?”

A glimmer of hope sparked in Duanmu Wuqiu’s eyes, but concern lingered. “What about wicked qi?”

“I have no wicked qi—only virtue,” Luo Xianyun replied calmly.

He had rarely taken life, and once he achieved inedia, he had ceased eating altogether. Moreover, repairing the heavens two centuries ago had granted him boundless virtue.

Arrays were constructs that used spiritual stones, a cultivator’s power, and the laws of mysticism to manipulate the natural qi of the world. The stronger the natural qi in an area, the more potent the array.

Currently, this realm was being sustained by the spiritual roots of Luo Xianyun and the other Stars of Deliverance.

Luo Xianyun’s spiritual root was in harmony with heaven and earth. The portion that remained in his body retained a mysterious resonance with the realm.

“No matter the array, if I refuse to trigger it, then it simply will not activate,” Luo Xianyun said with unwavering confidence.

Duanmu Wuqiu looked at him, eyes reflecting the light of the stars.

At that moment, Luo Xianyun seemed cloaked in a celestial radiance, both formidable and untouchable.

“Do you know the layout of the array?” Duanmu Wuqiu asked. “Can you dismantle it?”

“You said before that you wanted to steal a few array manuals and reroute a river to your pond. That’s unnecessary,” Luo Xianyun said, full of assurance. “There’s no one in this world who understands arrays better than I do.”

Beichen Sect possessed a vast library, and Luo Xianyun, both brilliant and diligent, had read every text within a hundred years.

He had once repaired the sky using an ancient divine array and had long since mastered the art. No array existed that he could not comprehend.

“Trust me,” Luo Xianyun said. “If I fail to save the valley, you may take my life in atonement for those lost.”

Duanmu Wuqiu shook his head. “This Lord is not so petty. The array was not of your making, and the valley’s destruction would not be your fault. If you’re simply unable to save them, why would I hold that against you?”

“You are truly wise and principled,” Luo Xianyun said.

Duanmu Wuqiu stood straighter, a new resolve taking root within him.

From this day forth, he would never again vent his anger on the innocent.

By then, Song Gui had already landed the flying boat and called out, “Lord, shishu, we’ve arrived.”

The three disembarked. Luo Xianyun was about to store the flying boat, when he noticed Duanmu Wuqiu eyeing it with obvious longing.

“Daoist Duanmu, would you help me put away the flying boat?” he asked. “I’d like to conserve my strength.”

“How troublesome. You’re fortunate this Lord enjoys helping others,” Duanmu Wuqiu replied, cheerfully taking the boat and storing it away.

He even patted the pouch gently, like a child cherishing a treasured new toy.

Luo Xianyun recalled how Duanmu Wuqiu had once offered him a mountain of rare elixirs and divine medicines—priceless resources that cultivators would kill for—yet treated them with indifference. But a simple flying boat had captured his delight.

Unambitious and untainted by material desire, Duanmu Wuqiu’s purity might well be the reason he had reached such a lofty realm.

At the mouth of the valley, Luo Xianyun inhaled a thread of the valley’s natural qi and closed his eyes, attuning himself to the subtle shifts in energy.

“The spiritual veins have been disturbed. Someone has been here and laid a deadly trap,” he said.

Duanmu Wuqiu tried to sense it himself but came up empty.

Song Gui explained helpfully, “My Lord, only those with heavenly spiritual roots can detect such subtle changes in spiritual qi.”

Luo Xianyun gave Duanmu Wuqiu a confident smile. Then, dispersing his remaining true qi, he stepped into the valley.

Duanmu Wuqiu frowned deeply, anxiety twisting his expression.

He feared for the valley—and he feared for Luo Xianyun.

But most of all, he was frustrated with himself.

At such a critical moment, he was powerless to help. It infuriated him.

He glanced at Song Gui and said coldly, “How did Beichen Sect end up with a traitor like you?”

“Huh?”

Duanmu Wuqiu snapped, “Beichen Sect is a proper, upright sect. Its disciples are noble, compassionate, always ready to help others. And yet you spurned such virtue, throwing yourself into the trash heap of demonic sects. Utter disgrace!”

“My Lord, we’re part of a demonic sect. The righteous sects are our enemies,” Song Gui replied.

“And I can’t speak the truth?” Duanmu Wuqiu said, indignant. “Has a demonic cultivator ever done anything good?”

Song Gui: …

Duanmu Wuqiu sounded more like a Beichen Sect disciple than he did.

He continued, “Once this is all over, you should return to Beichen Sect and end your own life. Don’t make this Lord or Luo Xianyun deal with you. Luo Xianyun already has enough to worry about. What if he gets exhausted killing you?”

Song Gui: …

If I come clean as a spy right now, maybe I’ll get to live, he thought.

—

Author’s Note:

Song Gui: Does my Lord actually know I’m a spy or not? I’m genuinely confused!