The Demon Lord Wants a Vacation - Chapter 5: Luo Xianyun

Duanmu Wuqiu believed he had done everything according to the customs of the demonic path. He’d brought a disciple to the gates as a show of goodwill, paid the proper courtesies to Beichen Sect, and ensured they wouldn’t lose face. By all accounts, his request should’ve been accepted without issue.

But upon seeing his disciple so thoroughly humiliated, the Sect Master came to a different conclusion. He believed Song Gui’s identity had already been discovered, and Duanmu Wuqiu was now feigning ignorance—delivering Song Gui to them so the sect would be forced to clean up their own mess.

If Duanmu Wuqiu had killed Song Gui himself, the Sect Master would have mourned and raged, but he could still blame the ruthless nature of the demonic sects. He could still direct his hatred outward.

But forcing him to execute his own disciple—now that was a cruelty of another level. It would leave a scar on his heart, shake the very foundation of his Dao, and plague him with inner demons for the rest of his life.

And if that truly happened, the demonic sects could use all manner of twisted techniques to inflame those demons. A top-tier righteous cultivator would be reduced to nothing.

How insidious. How vile.

The Sect Master let out a furious, chilling laugh. “Very well, very well! Hahahahaha!”

Thinking the laughter signaled success, Duanmu Wuqiu smiled as well.

So it was settled, then?

Soon, he’d meet Luo Xianyun—the legendary elder who’d taken a two-hundred-year sabbatical.

To a young cultivator like Duanmu Wuqiu, two centuries was an inconceivable stretch of time. He already held great respect for Luo Xianyun, even before laying eyes on him.

With tears in his eyes, the Sect Master knelt and undid the bindings on Song Gui himself.

Song Gui’s cultivation and voice remained sealed. He looked up at his Sect Master, unable to say a word. Tears streamed silently down his face.

Seeing this, the Sect Master’s heart twisted. He imagined the suffering Song Gui must’ve endured.

He pulled Song Gui protectively behind him, then turned toward Duanmu Wuqiu with ice in his voice. “Duanmu Wuqiu, I will never harm a disciple of my sect. Even if it means Beichen’s name is dragged through the mud, I will not follow the path you’ve laid out!”

Duanmu Wuqiu’s smile froze.

What? Didn’t he just agree? What was all that “very well” nonsense, then?

Were righteous cultivators all this two-faced?

Irritated, Duanmu Wuqiu said, “This Lord has acted with nothing but courtesy. Who would’ve thought your righteous sect would be so unreasonable? You’re no different from the so-called villains I’ve crushed before.”

“It’s irrelevant whether you accept this Lord’s offering. This Lord will accomplish his goal today. If you cooperate, I need only take one person. If you refuse, I’ll level your sect and still get what I came for.”

Snatching people was second nature to Duanmu Wuqiu. He’d only tried diplomacy for once, thinking Luo Xianyun might appreciate a more civil approach.

Who knew Beichen Sect would be so ungrateful—taking a gift and refusing to return the favor. Treachery like this outstripped anything he’d seen in the demonic world.

Meanwhile, the Sect Master believed Duanmu Wuqiu was talking about Song Gui. He thought Duanmu Wuqiu was dead set on taking Song Gui’s life, and that enraged him even more.

“You go too far, Duanmu Wuqiu! Beichen Sect will not stand for your mockery!”

At his command, disciples behind him drew their weapons and formed a battle formation. Conflict was moments from erupting.

At that very moment, a gentle voice drifted across the battlefield like a breeze brushing calm over a stormy lake.

“Everyone, there must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

Duanmu Wuqiu paused, lowering his hand, and turned to look.

A white-robed youth stood beside the Sect Master, calm as still water, untouchable as a mountain peak. His wide sleeves fluttered in a breeze that seemed to exist for him alone. Subtle cloud embroidery shifted across his robes, giving him a mystic air—he looked as though heaven itself embraced him.

Despite his youthful face, his presence carried an ancient tranquility. No one could mistake him for someone ordinary.

Of all the people Duanmu Wuqiu had ever seen, this one most resembled an immortal.

His eyes trailed down to the soft folds of Luo Xianyun’s robes and he couldn’t help but think: if that cloth were made into blankets, surely he’d sleep like he was wrapped in clouds.

As the youth appeared, the mission box before Duanmu Wuqiu shifted.

“Eradicate Beichen Sect” disappeared.

Replaced with: Assassinate Luo Xianyun.

Duanmu Wuqiu needed no further hints. This man was Luo Xianyun.

He lowered his hand and gazed at Luo Xianyun’s face, admiration blooming in his chest.

So this was the man who haunted his inner demons.

Not bad-looking at all.

Those plagued by inner demons often saw impossible beauties. Some demonic paths—like the one of the Twelve Mara—could conjure illusions of exquisite temptation.

But Duanmu Wuqiu had never seen beauties in his inner demons. Just furniture. Beds, chairs, couches—but no people.

Now, at last, he’d seen one.

The Sect Master’s expression softened as he addressed the newcomer. “Shidi, why have you left seclusion? Have you recovered?”

Luo Xianyun shook his head.

He wasn’t sure why he’d awoken, either.

His body was but an empty shell. Though he appeared profound, he possessed only Golden Core-level strength. Still, he fared better than the other Stars of Deliverance—three of whom had already perished.

According to his calculations, he should’ve awoken when the great calamity fell upon the world. By then, his powers would have returned, and he could once again stand against the storm.

But something had changed. He’d awoken decades early.

He suspected something dire approached Beichen Sect, something terrible enough to stir him from his slumber.

Luo Xianyun had always trusted his instincts.

He’d watched the confrontation through the Cloud Gazing Mirror. Seeing the two sides on the brink of violence, he’d suspected this was the threat that required his presence.

But without spiritual strength, what could he do?

Then he remembered Duanmu Wuqiu’s words—he’d wanted to exchange Song Gui for Luo Xianyun.

Everyone assumed this was just a ruse. Luo Xianyun was believed to be long dead, like the other Stars. Only the inner circle of Beichen knew the truth.

Why would Duanmu Wuqiu ask for a dead man?

But Luo Xianyun had awoken the moment Duanmu Wuqiu arrived.

Could it be sincerity, not scheming?

He had to see for himself.

And when Duanmu Wuqiu looked at him, the killing intent faded.

He’d guessed correctly.

With a sweep of his sleeve, Luo Xianyun brushed aside the Sect Master’s hand and approached. “I am Luo Xianyun,” he said gently. “May I ask your honored name?”

Perhaps it was Luo Xianyun’s calm demeanor or his effortless grace, but Duanmu Wuqiu instinctively mirrored the gesture, cupping his hands. “This Lord is Duanmu Wuqiu, master of Taoyuan Sect. Some know me as the Carefree Demon Lord.”

Beichen Sect disciples: …

Wasn’t he called the Demon Lord of Massacre?

His name was synonymous with terror: a man whose presence killed hope, whose enemies didn’t survive past three days, whose path left nothing but ash.

Where did Carefree come from?

Luo Xianyun didn’t know his past. But he found the title soothing. “Though Daoist Duanmu walks the demonic path, he has a heart unburdened—like a lotus blooming unsullied from the mire. Cultivation depends on the heart. Even if one’s body belongs to the demonic path, a noble soul may yet shine through.”

Behind him, the Sect Master tugged at his sleeve repeatedly.

Luo Xianyun didn’t move.

Duanmu Wuqiu’s heart surged. He had never heard such beautiful words.

Before his rise to power, his peers had only ever insulted him. Afterward, his subordinates either feared him too much to speak or challenged him with sharp tongues and double meanings.

Only Luo Xianyun, a man he had just met, praised him openly. And sincerely.

Duanmu Wuqiu couldn’t help but feel that Luo Xianyun might truly be able to quiet his inner demon.

Just then, a long translucent panel appeared before Luo Xianyun’s eyes. At the bottom, a line read:

“Link established. Loading objectives. Please wait.”

Luo Xianyun remained serene. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t let it show.

“I’ve given you Song Gui. What happens to him is up to you,” Duanmu Wuqiu said. “Luo Xianyun, I wish to speak with you alone.”

“Impudence!” the Sect Master began, but Luo Xianyun held him back.

“Very well,” Luo Xianyun said.

He spoke through spiritual transmission: Shixiong, the great calamity is drawing near. We must preserve our strength. Every able cultivator will be needed. We must not act rashly.

But what if he means you harm? the Sect Master asked.

Worry not, Luo Xianyun replied. At Lingdu Peak, he cannot kill me easily.

The peak was protected by arrays he had constructed at his prime. Even Duanmu Wuqiu would not be able to take him down swiftly.

“Please, Daoist Duanmu,” Luo Xianyun said. “Come with me.”

Author’s Note:

Beichen Sect Master: My shidi is amazing, but he really thinks he’s a sage.