Nightfall

So they lingered in the tales of the Devil’s Doctrine in a winter’s night, alongside the falling snow and hurling wind.

As usual, such tales always involved a hideous past filled with bloodshed and evil doing including murder, rape, and torture. For instance, there were stories of an Elder Feng who was particularly intrigued by human skin, whereas another Elder Yun carried out deeds that could even make elder Feng vomit.

Ning Que listened quietly to the young girl, and he didn’t vomit, because he had seen worse hells in this life.

As he thought of the attitude of the good old Mr. Lv regarding the remnant survivors of the Devil’s Doctrine, he seemed to have a better grasp of the attitude of the mainstream cultivators towards the latter. Nevertheless, his own attitude remained unchanged.

Of course, he wouldn’t attempt to persuade Mo Shanshan or other devout Haotian believers either, because beliefs were often difficult to reason, and he could only try to reduce her sense of vigilance by other means.

“Over the past years, Devil’s Doctrine has seen a scarcity in talent reservoir, and they have been lying low altogether. Why should we be so vigilant still?”

Mo Shanshan looked at him and replied, “Lying low doesn’t mean they don’t exist. In fact, A Devil’s Doctrine that is in hiding is even more terrifying, especially when the tribe of the Desolate Man is now moving south at the moment. As a result, the Divine Hall should obviously beware of the resurgence of the lingering curse of the doctrine.”

Ning Que turned to look at the isolated tent in the snow and as he thought of the mother and son from the Desolate tribe in the tent, he shook his head and said, “Even though Devil’s Doctrine emerged from their tribe, you cannot treat every Desolate Man as being part of the Doctrine. Moreover, it has been over a millennium, and the Desolate Men have probably long forgotten about their past.”

“Among the Desolate Men, Devil’s Doctrine is referred to as the Enlightenment Doctrine.”

Mo Shanshan said with a serious face, “Back in the days when Tang Empire defeated the Desolate Men, they were forced to migrate up north to the Cold Region. Many of the powerful ones of the Enlightenment Doctrine stayed back in the South and were scattered in the grassland and Central Plains. They never ceased to attack the Divine Hall in the open or in hiding, thus the origin of the Devil’s Doctrine.”

Hearing about the Enlightenment Doctrine, Ning Que naturally remembered the Great Divine Priest of Light whose original intention was to preach in the Wilderness but ended up founding Devil’s Doctrine single-handledly, and the “Ming” Handscroll that went missing in the Wilderness.

Mo Shanshan remained poker-faced and went on saying, “Every so often, the powerful forces of the Devil’s Doctrine would head towards the cold region of the polar north regardless of all hardship, just to recruit disciples and successors among the tribe of the Desolate Men. Given such close ties between them, it’s only natural for the Divine Hall to get wary about the southward migration of the Desolate Men.”

“Why would Devil’s Doctrine do that? If they wished to flourish in this world, shouldn’t they be recruiting extensively? Why take so much trouble to recruit the Desolate Men as disciples?” Ning Que asked as he couldn’t understand.

“Their doctrine would obviously attempt to expand in the south too, but their cultivation method consisted in forcibly acquire and contain the Qi of Heaven and Earth in their bodies, and the rules of heaven would not allow it as it is damned. When ordinary human beings proceed with this form of cultivation, they are prone to self-destruction due to their inability to contain so much Qi. On the other hand, the Desolate is equipped with a physical constitution that happens to be fit for the methods of the Devil’s Doctrine, and for that reason, they are destined to be chosen as their disciples, and the most powerful ones are also destined to emerge from the Desolate Tribe.”

Ning Que had his reservations, thinking that, perhaps it wasn’t the physical constitution of the Desolate Men that made them fit to cultivate these methods, but the other way around: the Great Divine Priest of Light who founded Devil’s Doctrine back then could well have created this method of cultivation exclusively for the Desolate.

He looked at Mo Shanshan and said, “You must know about the Great Divine Priest of Light who founded Devil’s Doctrine.”

Mo Shanshan nodded.

Ning Que went on to say, “If we were to disregard the way the Devil’s Doctrine methods disrespect Haotian, don’t you find this whole matter utterly interesting? Devil’s Doctrine is pretty much like a branch of Haotian Taoism.”

Mo Shanshan frowned slightly and looked right into his eyes, “Even though they name themselves after light, they still worship the Yama. How can such evil ways be mentioned in the same breath as Haotian Taoism?

Being reminded of the tales he heard as a child, Ning Que was momentarily startled and asked, “Isn’t Yama just a legend?”

Mo Shanshan turned to look at the plans and said with a soft voice, “We’ve all heard about this tale as a child, but no one knows where the Underworld is, and whether Yama really existed nor would anyone worship him. Even the Devil’s Doctrine has their reservations on this matter; they worship Yama, but on the other hand, some of their own are terrified about the emergence of Yama, because according to their creed, the emergence of Yama is associated with the coming of darkness, and they… dislike darkness.”

Ning Que listened to her explanation, and as he envisioned those Devil’s disciples who worshipped Yama in their dark caves while hoping to never come to face Yama. The thought of this made him laugh as he remarked, “what a bunch of paradoxical weirdos!”

The starlight reflected from the snow-covered plains, making the night almost as bright as dawn. The air was so pure after the snowfall, making the tents of the Desolate Tribe settlement in the center of the snowfield fully visible from afar. It looked quiet and beautiful just like a fairytale.

Ning Que glanced at the sight quietly, hardly being able to associate the Desolate tribe with those dark tales of the past and their history of bloodshed.

At that very moment, a massive black cloud shifted closer from the south, covering up the sky above as well as blackening the starlight behind it, without leaking a shred of light. The whole world went dark.

…

…

On the now pitch black snow plains stood a few isolated tents near the mountain ridge.

Inside those tents lived Desolate Men who practiced winter rituals, just like the mother and son.

A few rocks stuck out from the snow-covered ground outside one of the tents. All of a sudden, the rocks moved, and they were actually three men dressed in black. The material of their attire was extremely thick and tough, and their faces were covered by their hoods, making them look just like rocks as they appeared out of nowhere without making any noise.

They were deacons from the Divine Hall Judicial Department, or perhaps it was more appropriate to call them executors, as they were the ultimate nightmare of all remnants of Devil’s Doctrine and Haotian renegades.

Just as the Central Plains nations were still planning their attack for next spring, Divine Hall Judicial Department had already deployed armies of terribly powerful deacons to infiltrate the depths of the Wilderness.

The attitude of the Divine Hall towards the Desolate was very simple, just like Ning Que’s attitude towards his enemy: only a dead Desolate was a good one. All Desolate Men must die. However, these deacons carried important missions, and they were not powerful enough, nor were they willing to enrage the countless powerful warriors of the Desolate tribe.

And yet, as they came face to face with these lone Desolate Men tonight, they found it impossible to suppress their disgust and abhorrence of darkness, as if they could sniff the most repugnant odor of the world, just like a lynx coming across hole-digging rats at night. Despite their lack of facial expressions, they were hardly able to contain the utter excitement they felt inside.

The way they were brought up, and decades of influence from the environment they lived in made their reactions always instinctive, and the cruel chase and extermination of heresy became the greatest source of joy and excitement in their lives.

Thus as the three deacons walked into the isolated tent, it never crossed their mind the repercussions of infuriating the Desolate tribe, and whether it would jeopardize the mission of the Divine Hall. All they could think about was to eliminate the source of the repugnant odor and exterminate these rats, consoled by the thought that, considering the few numbers of Desolate Men left, killing off one would greatly contribute to the cause of Light.

After a few brief sounds, they took the Desolate warrior by surprise and were successful in subduing him and constraining his wife and son.

One of the deacons slowly removed his black hood and looked at the Desolate warrior expressionless as he reached out and put his hand on top of the man’s head, and with the voice of a truly devout, uttered the following words, “In the name of Haotian, execute.”

A shred of extremely pure ray of light shone from the palm of the deacon, and it was as if this light could pierce through solid matter, revealing the bones of his palm so clearly, while also brightening the dark face of the Desolate Man, as well as the rage, angst, and bitterness in his eyes.

The wife and son of the Desolate Man were already dead on the floor, blood tears running down from their faces.

The next moment, the Desolate Man suffered a painful death under the Divine Light of Haotian.

The three deacons slowly covered their faces again with their hood, and walked out of the tent in silence.

The black clouds above the Wilderness concealed the starlight, and the snow and wind kept blowing and beating on their black deacon robes, making flapping sounds.

In the shadows of their black hood, the pale face of the three deacons blushed in a strange way. It took them a long while to readjust their heavy breathing out of excitement back to normal, before walking away at last.

Once again after so many years, the deacons of the Haotian Divine Hall were able to come face to face with their ultimate nemesis and thrust the blow of the millennium.

What took place on that night of heavy wind and snow was certainly worth a place in the creed of Haotian or historical records of the many Central Plains nations. Nevertheless, all traces were buried by snow, leaving no clue whatsoever for the latecomer.

…

…

Ning Que and Mo Shanshan woke up almost at the same time.

They were sleeping in the corner of the tent, and it felt rather humid and cold. However, that wasn’t what woke them up. In fact, it was because they detected people approaching, very powerful people.

Mo Shanshan looked at him and said, “I sensed a feeling of the Haotian Divine Light. They must come from the Divine Hall.”

Ning Que glanced at the mother and son of the Desolate Tribe who were soundly asleep, frowned and said, “What do we do now?”

Mo Shanshan seemed puzzled as she looked back and asked, “What do you mean?”

Ning Que shrugged and replied, “Whose side do we pick if they start to fight?”

Mo Shanshan also frowned. She never considered this question since being a believer of Haotian. She took it for granted that she always stood by the Divine Hall. Was there any necessity to consider anyway?

Ning Que smiled and reminded her, “Don’t forget that we are now living with the Desolate tribe, and if it were the ice-cold deacons from the Judicial Department of the Divine Hall who are coming, they would certainly consider us as traitors.”

Mo Shanshan calmly replied, “We can explain it, we are here to collect information.”

Ning Que smiled and said, “I don’t think they’ll buy that explanation.”

The freezing wind and snow funneled in as the tent drapes lifted, and three rock-like black shadows appeared, looking quiet, solemn and powerful in the light of the tiny bonfire inside the tent.