The Demon Lord Wants a Vacation - Chapter 17: This Elder

Countless thoughts raced through Luo Xianyun’s mind in that moment.

He suspected that Duanmu Wuqiu might still harbor resentment and intended to punish Song Gui, but having just saved the valley, he couldn’t act openly—perhaps this convoluted plan was meant to entangle both of them.

He also wondered if Duanmu Wuqiu had simply lost trust in the Beichen Sect and sought to embed a loyal subordinate within it, turning the Sect’s own tactics back against them.

He considered many intricate schemes—but never dared to imagine the simplest possibility.

For a while, Luo Xianyun found himself at a loss. If he refused, he feared offending Duanmu Wuqiu; but agreeing to such a preposterous request without the Sect Master’s approval seemed equally impossible.

Fortunately, Duanmu Wuqiu never saw the need for permission. Having made his decision, he wouldn’t allow anyone to contradict him.

“The Beichen Sect is known for its fairness,” Duanmu Wuqiu declared, entirely unbothered by others’ opinions. “Surely they will accept a reasonable request. Since you’ve already agreed, this Lord is now a disciple of the Beichen Sect.”

We never agreed!

Luo Xianyun and Song Gui exchanged a look of mutual disbelief.

Duanmu Wuqiu continued organizing his thoughts aloud. “Though this Lord values fairness, given his rank and cultivation, he cannot be placed in the same generation as Song Gui. He should be recognized as an Elder, on par with the Myrtle Elder.”

“How about this Lord assumes your master’s role and accepts himself as a nominal disciple of Beichen Sect, to be known as the Carefree Elder?”

“There’s no need to prepare new quarters either. This Elder shall share Lingdu Peak with Luo Xianyun.”

To see Duanmu Wuqiu casually taking his master’s place and proclaiming himself Elder left Luo Xianyun utterly exasperated.

Yet Duanmu Wuqiu was far from finished. “This Elder has a terrible temper, easily provoked to violence. He suffers from inner demons, and if things go wrong, he may just destroy the world.”

“A person like this is dangerous to keep in Beichen Sect.”

“This Elder thinks it best to leave his name on Lingdu Peak, but not reside within the Sect. He needs to live somewhere peaceful, remote, with mountains, rivers, flowers, birds, fish… and a dog.”

“And since both this Elder and Luo Xianyun are disciples of Beichen Sect, it is only right for him to guide his fellow disciple and prevent him from falling to demonic ways.”

“Therefore, Luo Xianyun should accompany this Elder into seclusion, helping him rest and refine his temperament. And Luo Xianyun himself, being injured, would benefit from such a tranquil environment.”

After laying out this elaborate plan, Duanmu Wuqiu looked to Luo Xianyun, expression solemn. “Elder Luo, do you find this Elder’s plan agreeable?”

Luo Xianyun tried to decipher the meaning buried in his words.

The Savior System translated helpfully: [He wants you to live here.]

All at once, the many hidden possibilities Luo Xianyun had considered fell away. He pieced together Duanmu Wuqiu’s intentions from the circuitous reasoning.

Luo Xianyun was no stranger to such situations.

With a heavenly spiritual root, he naturally influenced those with pure hearts.

Though Duanmu Wuqiu was the Demonic Sovereign, his personality was forthright, and his heart—untainted by perverse desires. It was no surprise he had taken a liking to Luo Xianyun at first sight—just like Wangcai.

Luo Xianyun had saved him, which only deepened Duanmu Wuqiu’s fondness.

By the usual logic of demonic cultivators, Duanmu Wuqiu would have simply seized what he wanted. Yet he had chosen instead to devise this elaborate plan, which was, in its way, a profound compromise.

To Luo Xianyun, that purity was… oddly endearing.

Still, he couldn’t give in so easily.

“This isn’t right,” Luo Xianyun said.

“What part of it isn’t?” Duanmu Wuqiu frowned, his displeasure plain. Yet in front of Luo Xianyun, he restrained himself.

“If Song Gui can join my Taoyuan Sect, why can’t I join Beichen Sect?”

Luo Xianyun smiled. “After rising to power as the Demonic Sovereign, Daoist Duanmu has slain bloodthirsty heretics and cleansed the righteous path of traitors. You have curbed the demonic realm’s chaos, and though aligned with darkness, you’ve used strength to preserve peace. You’ve done more good than most so-called righteous cultivators. Beichen Sect would be honored to count you among its own.”

At his words, Duanmu Wuqiu stood taller, prouder. His expression softened into calm confidence, and he took on a regal, refined air—like moonlight brushing over a mountaintop.

“If this Elder may join Beichen Sect, he is content,” Duanmu Wuqiu said in a clear voice. “So, Shixiong, where lies the problem?”

Song Gui, who had stayed quiet thus far, could no longer remain silent. He tugged at Luo Xianyun’s sleeve and sent a voice transmission: Shishu, he’s already calling you “Shixiong”! If you let this go on, I’ll have to call him “Shishu”!

He hoped Luo Xianyun would find a proper reason to reject Duanmu Wuqiu.

But Luo Xianyun ignored him and addressed Duanmu Wuqiu directly. “Since you haven’t formally bowed to my master, yet are willing to call me Shixiong, then I shall call you Duanmu-shidi. Will that do?”

Duanmu Wuqiu looked radiant. His voice took on the polished cadence of formality. “It is only fitting.”

Luo Xianyun took a step forward. “Then, as a disciple of Lingdu Peak, you will naturally obey your Shixiong’s orders, yes?”

“Of course.” Duanmu Wuqiu nodded emphatically.

“Beichen Sect opposes evil and upholds justice. We would never condone betrayal of the moral path. If you truly wish to join our sect, then you must not follow the practices of the demonic path. A righteous cultivator does not extract another’s spiritual root.”

“If you wish to join Beichen Sect, you must not harm Hè Jinglun.”

With this, Luo Xianyun turned Duanmu Wuqiu’s own plan against him.

Duanmu Wuqiu: …

Luo Xianyun smiled gently. “Since my Shidi has no objections, I’ll take that as your agreement. A figure of such stature as my Shidi—once the Demonic Sovereign, now the Carefree Elder—would never go back on his word.”

“No!” Duanmu Wuqiu protested. “You need treatment!”

“Then I regret to say I cannot accept you as my Shidi.” Luo Xianyun shook his head, full of quiet sorrow.

Duanmu Wuqiu’s mind raced. With rare cunning, he countered, “This Lord is merely a spy from the demonic path, not a true Beichen disciple. Naturally, as a demonic infiltrator, he must commit unspeakable acts—like harming righteous cultivators!”

He sounded almost righteous in his reasoning, leaving Song Gui momentarily speechless.

Strangely… Duanmu Wuqiu’s argument seemed oddly reasonable.

But Luo Xianyun was no ordinary man. Calmly, he replied, “You’re right, Shidi. Your reasoning is sound. Feel free to proceed as you please.”

Duanmu Wuqiu puffed up his chest, thinking he had won.

Then Luo Xianyun added, “But since Duanmu Wuqiu is a disciple of Lingdu Peak, and all within Lingdu Peak share one another’s fate—should Duanmu Wuqiu commit an unforgivable act like killing Hè Jinglun, then as his fellow disciple, I, Luo Xianyun, shall bear his punishment.”

“I shall voluntarily have my cultivation destroyed, and accept seven soul-piercing nails into my flesh. My soul shall never reincarnate. The nails shall not kill me, but leave me in eternal suffering—as penance for the crime against Hè Jinglun.”

“Who would dare harm you?!” Duanmu Wuqiu roared. “This Lord will not allow it!”

“No one else need act,” Luo Xianyun replied. “I shall carry out the punishment myself.”

Duanmu Wuqiu fixed his gaze on Luo Xianyun, brows knit tightly. “So you’re holding your own life hostage,” he said slowly, realization dawning in his voice, “just to force this Lord to spare Hè Jinglun.”

Luo Xianyun shook his head. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. I’m simply telling you what I intend to do after Hè Jinglun dies.

“Whether or not Daoist Duanmu allies with the Beichen Sect is irrelevant to me. My actions will remain the same.

“Hè Jinglun and I are longtime companions. Regardless of whether his death is on my hands or not, I will seek vengeance on his behalf.

“But if you kill him, and if you do it for my sake, then I become his executioner. Is it so strange that I’d exact retribution on the one who took his life?”

Duanmu Wuqiu stood in tortured silence, torn by conflicting emotions. Words rose to his lips several times only to die before they could be spoken.

His chest burned with fury, and he desperately sought an outlet for it—something to strike, to shatter.

But the valley was his own sanctuary. He would not desecrate it.

Luo Xianyun was his elder martial brother. He could not raise his hand against him.

That left only Song Gui: a subordinate from the Taoyuan Sect, a covert operative for Beichen Sect, and his own martial nephew.

Duanmu Wuqiu inhaled deeply, then turned to Song Gui. “Song-shizhi, come here and let your Elder land a single blow. I won’t kill you, and I swear I’ll heal you afterwards. Just let me vent!”

Song Gui: …

What crime had he committed to deserve this?

Moved by pity, Luo Xianyun opened his mouth, intending to intercede.

But Duanmu Wuqiu, his expression darkening, declared, “Once this Lord takes his swing and lets off steam, he will swear to never lay a hand on Hè Jinglun. My word is ironclad.”

Given the circumstances, Luo Xianyun had no choice but to acquiesce. He clapped Song Gui’s shoulder with great solemnity. “Song Gui, the Beichen Sect, the Tianshou Sect, Hè Jinglun, and I will remember your sacrifice.”

Then he added in a sound transmission: Don’t forget to wear the Hidden Wind.

Song Gui: …

Very well. If this was what it took to save the cultivation world, so be it!

If taking a hit meant Hè Jinglun would live, Tianshou Sect would endure, and the righteous and demonic sects could avoid war—then he, Song Gui, would endure this trial!

Clad in the Hidden Wind, Song Gui stepped forward, eyes shut, and received Duanmu Wuqiu’s palm strike head-on.

Duanmu Wuqiu made no effort to restrain his strength. The blow obliterated the magical robe on impact and sent Song Gui flying.

Just before he crashed into the humble thatch hut, Duanmu Wuqiu darted forward, catching him and setting him gently to the ground.

Song Gui winced, rubbing his chest. To his astonishment, apart from the destruction of the Hidden Wind, he was unscathed.

He stared at Duanmu Wuqiu in disbelief.

“You thought this Lord didn’t notice your enchanted robe?” Duanmu Wuqiu said coolly. “It can deflect the full force of a peak Mahayana cultivator. Since you were wearing something so formidable, I naturally struck with my full strength.”

With the Hidden Wind now ruined, Duanmu Wuqiu finally felt the smoldering rage within him dissipate.

Dusting off his sleeves with imperious composure, he turned to Luo Xianyun. “I won’t kill Hè Jinglun.”

Luo Xianyun exhaled in quiet relief.

“But I will find a cure for you,” Duanmu Wuqiu added. “If you refuse to use someone else’s spiritual root, then I’ll find another way. I’ll scour every sect and ransack their libraries if I have to. You won’t stop this Lord from stealing every healing tome in the world!”

Luo Xianyun sighed. For Duanmu Wuqiu to yield this much was already a tremendous concession. It would be unjust to ask for more.

“You needn’t steal anything,” Luo Xianyun said. “I still possess some standing in the cultivation world. If I petition the sects, they’ll lend me their healing manuals—at least the ones that don’t contain secret techniques.”

Finally, Duanmu Wuqiu’s temper abated completely.

With a faint smile of relief, Luo Xianyun quietly asked the Savior System, Have tasks two and three been fulfilled?

[The threat to Hè Jinglun and the Tianshou Sect remains,] the Savior System responded.

But I trust Duanmu Wuqiu, Luo Xianyun said uncertainly. Once he’s given his word, he won’t go back on it. Unless…

His gaze fell upon the scattered remains of the Hidden Wind. He walked over and picked up a fragment.

Though the Savior System’s warnings had prevented the valley’s destruction and spared Song Gui’s life, and though the crisis threatening Beichen Sect had been averted—

The Hidden Wind was still destroyed.

As if some events were destined to happen, regardless of interference.

This, Luo Xianyun thought, was fate.

He believed both the Savior System and the Destruction System were entities that grasped the threads of destiny.

The Savior System had foreseen Hè Jinglun’s death. That foresight was etched into the tapestry of fate.

Even if Duanmu Wuqiu never raised a hand against him, Hè Jinglun would still perish—by another’s hand.