The Demon Lord Wants a Vacation - Chapter 3: Letter of Introduction

Duanmu Wuqiu had long heard that righteous sects placed great importance on propriety and formality. To visit them, one had to send a letter of introduction in advance.

This was entirely different from how demonic sects handled things.

When Duanmu Wuqiu dropped by a demonic sect, his version of a “letter of introduction” was to injure one of their disciples and toss the body onto their doorstep.

And usually, after such a visit, that sect would cease to exist.

But this time, since he was seeking a favor from the Beichen Sect, Duanmu Wuqiu couldn’t use his usual demonic methods.

He thought it over seriously, combing through his eighty-some years of cultivation experience, but found no relevant memories.

Righteous etiquette just wasn’t in his repertoire. Fortunately, the Taoyuan Sect had a collection of diverse talents—surely someone among them would know what to do.

Righteous sects weren’t airtight either; deserters trickled out every few years. Over time, Duanmu Wuqiu had gathered a fair number of them.

He’d assigned all surviving defectors to one altar, placed under the supervision of Xiao Hongzhou.

These people all harbored deep resentment toward their former sects and were itching for revenge.

Xiao Hongzhou, in particular, had been kicked out of the Frostflower Palace for harassing its female disciples. His grand plan to unify the cultivation world naturally began with destroying the Frostflower Palace.

Duanmu Wuqiu had grouped them together mainly to keep an eye on them. He’d already worked hard enough to unite the demonic path—he didn’t want the righteous sects knocking on his door.

If some Taoyuan disciple provoked the righteous sects into war, it would be a nightmare. Those people had amassed manpower over millennia, loved dragging fights out, and always liked tossing up arrays and battling to the death for three hundred days straight. If he had to personally wipe out every righteous sect, wouldn’t he die from exhaustion?

After Xiao Hongzhou had been incinerated in a volcano, the people at the traitor altar quieted down. They all retreated into their caves and hadn’t dared disturb Duanmu Wuqiu since.

Duanmu Wuqiu opened a magical artifact called the Shanhe Records. It looked like an ancient scroll and had originally belonged to the Blood Hell Elder, before Duanmu Wuqiu had taken it.

If you defeated someone and inscribed their name into the scroll using a drop of their heart’s blood, the Shanhe Records would bind to them. You could then track their location anywhere in the world.

Only death and complete loss of cultivation could erase a name from the scroll. Otherwise, it followed them across all lifetimes.

It was said the Records could contain the entire realm—truly a scroll that held all under heaven.

Over the course of a year, Duanmu Wuqiu had painstakingly recorded every Taoyuan Sect member’s blood and name into the Shanhe Records. That way, none of them could stir up trouble without him knowing.

After searching through the list, he selected one of the more mild-mannered traitors—someone with little resentment, low presence, and who had never given him any trouble.

Using the blood bond, he sent a mental command: “Come see this Lord.”

Song Gui—who had just finished packing to escape Taoyuan Sect—froze.

He’d kept such a low profile. Why had the Demonic Sovereign noticed him?

Song Gui had once been a core disciple of Beichen Sect, with a brilliant future ahead.

Ninety years ago, his Sect Master had given him a secret mission—to fake a defection and infiltrate the demonic path, feeding back intelligence and waiting for a chance to deliver a crippling blow.

The human realm had been in chaos for a hundred years, which gave rise to the flourishing of demonic cultivation.

As morals eroded, the demonic sects began to outpace the righteous ones.

His Sect Master had read the stars and declared that a catastrophic “demonic star” had already been born. He sent Song Gui to investigate and, if possible, prevent its rise.

If Song Gui succeeded, he’d be celebrated across the cultivation world and immediately named the next sect master.

Even without that promise, Song Gui was loyal to the righteous path and had been fully willing to sacrifice himself.

To make the betrayal convincing, the Sect Master had injured him before casting him out.

For ninety years, Song Gui had lived among the demonic sects, never feeling at home. He rose in the ranks mainly by dueling other demonic cultivators, always careful not to harm innocent civilians or righteous disciples.

Then came Duanmu Wuqiu—a man who rose through the ranks at a terrifying pace, mastering techniques far beyond what should’ve been possible. He’d achieved Golden Core Stage in just a few years from a mere Foundation Establishment method.

By the time Duanmu Wuqiu reached Nascent Soul, Song Gui took him seriously.

He intended to eliminate Duanmu Wuqiu before he grew too strong, but the Blood Hell Elder captured him first and tossed him into Skyfall Gorge.

The next time Song Gui heard his name, Duanmu Wuqiu had already reached Law Body Stage and usurped the Blood Hell Elder’s treasures. He was now a leading figure of the demonic path.

When they met again, Song Gui was utterly defeated. His blood was etched into the Shanhe Records, marking him as a member of Taoyuan Sect.

But he didn’t give up. He stuck close to Duanmu Wuqiu, hoping to uncover a weakness that Beichen’s elders could exploit.

To his surprise, Duanmu Wuqiu unified the demonic sects, established his own order, and strictly forbade his disciples from harming mortals or provoking righteous sects.

He governed more efficiently than most righteous sects.

Even more impressive—when Xiao Hongzhou tried to rally support to destroy the righteous path, Duanmu Wuqiu sealed him inside a volcano.

That moment left Song Gui deeply conflicted.

Was Duanmu Wuqiu secretly sent by another righteous sect? Was he a hidden ally?

He even felt grateful he hadn’t killed him back then.

Though he longed to say something and reveal his identity, Duanmu Wuqiu’s terrifying reputation always silenced him.

Instead, he continued to observe and pass information back to Beichen Sect.

The Sect Master’s latest reply: “Since the demonic sect is keeping to itself, return to Beichen Sect.”

They had even sent him a body double puppet to break the Shanhe Records’ control—he just needed a chance to swap it in.

But then Duanmu Wuqiu summoned him.

“Come immediately. Make me wait and you’re dead.” Classic Duanmu Wuqiu—blunt and terrifying.

Panic gripped Song Gui. Had his identity been exposed? Had he been too careless when receiving the puppet?

His heartbeat quickened, but with a spy’s resolve, he hid the puppet and headed out, mentally preparing to meet death.

Duanmu Wuqiu had made his home in the Blood Hell Elder’s former cave, which now served as his receiving hall.

He hadn’t changed the decor in decades—walls smeared with dried blood, pillars of skulls, and gusts of resentful wind constantly blowing through.

As Song Gui walked deeper, dread pooled in his chest.

Finally, through winding hallways lit by ghostly flames, he reached the innermost chamber.

He pushed open the stone door—and was blinded by sunlight.

Duanmu Wuqiu had opened a skylight and replaced the grotesque furnishings with bamboo chairs and a soft bed that smelled faintly of sunshine.

It was a bit messy, but felt warm—almost like home.

The floor was littered with crumpled paper, each scrawled with Duanmu Wuqiu’s attempts at formal phrasing.

One semi-legible page read: “Bring Luo Xianyun to see this Lord.”

Song Gui’s brow twitched.

As a Beichen disciple, he knew of Luo Xianyun—the Myrtle Elder.

Two hundred years ago, she and six other righteous elders sacrificed their essence to seal the heavenly rift at Skyfall Gorge. They became known as the Seven Stars of Deliverance.

Since then, Luo Xianyun had never reappeared. Word had it she was near death, unable to leave her sect. Her name alone symbolized the righteous path.

If Duanmu Wuqiu wanted to summon her, wasn’t that just an excuse to provoke Beichen Sect?

He had finally revealed his ambitions.

Fist clenched, Song Gui was filled with despair.

He had believed in Duanmu Wuqiu, trusted him. And now, it seemed everything had been a trick.

Duanmu Wuqiu turned slightly, but before he could speak, Song Gui cried out with bitter resolve, “You can kill me, but I won’t let you have your way!”

Duanmu Wuqiu: …

Holding his freshly-written letter—meticulously neat and properly formatted—he was momentarily speechless.

He knew all about Song Gui’s background. A former Beichen core disciple, once the Sect Master’s pride.

Does he really hate his former sect that much? I only wanted to ask if this wording would get Luo Xianyun to meet me, and he’s ready to die over it? Duanmu Wuqiu thought.

“…Do you want me to destroy Beichen Sect for you?” he asked, voice serious.

If Song Gui said yes, he’d lock him up with Xiao Hongzhou immediately.

But Song Gui replied, “I may have left Beichen Sect, but that was due to my own mistake. I would never betray them!”

His eyes were bright, clear—untainted by inner demons.

Duanmu Wuqiu gave a mental nod of approval. What a proper righteous disciple. Even after defecting, his mind remained unclouded. Surely a Beichen elder could help him deal with this bad inner demon.

He handed the letter to Song Gui and said, “I’m not asking you to deliver it. Just polish the wording and tell me the incantation for Beichen Sect’s messaging spell. I’ll send it myself.”

He sighed. He had originally planned to make Song Gui deliver it, but the man was so committed to dying for righteousness that Duanmu had no choice.

Even as the Demonic Sovereign, he still had to deliver his own mail. What a life.

Relieved that his identity remained safe, Song Gui suppressed his emotions and accepted the letter.

Then he saw the title on the front—five bold characters: This Lord Wants Luo Xianyun.

Song Gui: …

It was still a declaration of war!