Chapter 28: The Origins of the Murong Clan

Murong Qingxue and Gu Qingyi walked side by side.

“If you’re so curious about the mystery of my past, I can share a brief version with you. I’ll stick to the story of the Human and Demon Races,” Murong Qingxue said, pausing her steps for a moment. “Listen closely now, I’m starting.”

On the Sword Qi Continent eight thousand years ago, the Demon Race launched a full-scale invasion of human lands.

In that moment, humanity suffered unimaginable devastation with corpses littering the ground.

Wherever the Demon Race went, everything was destroyed. Not even chickens or dogs were spared as entire regions became war zones.

The strength of the Demon Race struck fear into the hearts of all.

Their physical prowess and cultivation far surpassed that of humans. At the same level, a single demon could easily take on two or even three human opponents.

Perhaps the people of today have been sheltered for too long, forgetting just how powerful and terrifying the Demon Race once was.

Yet history’s lessons must not be forgotten. Peaceful times are not a given; they are earned by those who bear the burden in silence.

Since ancient times, the Demon Race has been anathema to the world.

Their very existence poses a threat to human civilization. However, within the Demon Race itself, there are strict hierarchies and varying levels of strength.

[Demon Race Ranks: Demon Soldier, Demon Warrior, Demon General, Demon King, Demon Emperor, Demon Saint, Demon Sovereign, Demon God]

[Each rank is further divided into Early, Middle, Late, and Peak stages.]

[Corresponding Human Realms: Sword Practitioner Realm, Sword Qi Realm, Sword Sea Realm, Sword King Realm, Sword Emperor Realm, Sword Saint Realm, (Demi-God Realm), Sword God Realm]

[The Demi-God Realm, also known as the False God Realm, has never appeared in the world, leading many to forget its existence. Yet ancient inheritance scrolls clearly record its presence.]

The Demon God who sparked the great war between humans and demons was none other than Lin Mo.

Born into the Demon Race, Lin Mo was relegated to the lowest rung due to impure bloodlines within his family.

Unable to endure the humiliation, he vowed to tread the path of demonic cultivation, climbing step by step to the pinnacle of the Demon Race.

On his journey, Lin Mo faced countless hardships, battling cultivators of all races and gradually awakening the mysterious power hidden in his demonic bloodline.

In a world-shaking battle, Lin Mo emerged victorious, ultimately becoming the Demon God and seizing control over the fate of the world.

Yet as he ascended to the peak of the Demon Race, Lin Mo began to understand the deep-seated grudges between humans and demons, as well as the brutal hierarchy within his own kind.

Upon becoming the God of the Demon Race, his ambitions grew increasingly apparent. He crushed all opposition with overwhelming force.

Only his most trusted confidants remained, though how much time passed is unclear.

The fragile peace between humans and demons was eventually shattered.

Lin Mo grew dissatisfied with the Demon Race being confined to a mere corner of the continent. His ambition swelled, dreaming of unifying the entire land under his rule.

At first, his actions were small-scale probes, merely harassing the residents of ordinary villages.

They stole goods but refrained from killing.

Over time however, the tensions between the two races escalated, growing more severe with each passing day.

The common folk, long oppressed, finally reached their breaking point. Even without cultivation, they grabbed hoes and farming tools, charging at the demon soldiers plundering their homes.

Though they fell mercilessly at the feet of the demon soldiers, their resistance proved that even ordinary people possessed unyielding spirit, refusing to be trampled upon without a fight.

The Demon God of the Demon Race saw this as the perfect opportunity for invasion.

Conflicts became more apparent with frequent large-scale clashes erupting at the borders between the Human and Demon Races.

The residents living near these borders were always the first to suffer.

Initially, only the border dwellers bore the brunt of the suffering. The nobles dismissed the deaths of commoners as inconsequential, caring little as long as their own interests remained untouched.

Some nobles with a conscience believed the situation could spiral out of control and debated reporting the demon incursions to the imperial court for precaution.

Yet their superiors blocked them.

They argued that the deaths of mere commoners were insignificant. If word spread, their own positions and prestige would be at risk.

Unable to resist the allure of power, they compromised, unanimously agreeing to suppress all news of the Demon Race’s atrocities against the common folk, ensuring it never reached higher ears.

They indulged in feasting and merriment at the rear, oblivious to the consequences of their actions.

“When the city gate catches fire, the fish in the moat suffer.”

“Beneath a fallen nest, no egg remains unbroken.”

Most of the human population consisted of ordinary people with no cultivation. In stark contrast, the Demon Race was a nation of warriors—every man, woman, and child ready for battle.

Most terrifying of all, under the Demon God’s rule, they were incredibly united, free from the petty scheming and infighting that plagued humanity.

Wherever they went, they were invincible, conquering all in their path. They feared no death, growing fiercer with each fight.

With news suppressed, those in the rear remained oblivious to the unfolding disaster. By the time the Demon Race attacked, they were slaughtered in an instant, their heads severed from their bodies.

Humanity scattered like loose sand, crumbling at the first charge. They stood no chance until the Demon God led his forces deep into the Sword Qi Continent.

Only then did the human leaders awaken to the crisis. They hurriedly gathered all the continent’s forces for a desperate counterattack, but it was already too late.

The disparity in strength between the two races was staggering. Their resistance was like throwing eggs at a stone. Still, many human powerhouses voluntarily led their people in a fight to the death.

Yet this was merely a drop in the bucket, briefly slowing the Demon Race’s advance. While some fought desperately to protect their homes at the frontlines, traitors emerged from within.

Many human leaders, accustomed to lives of decadence, had never witnessed such a terrifying spectacle. Seeing the endless, ferocious demon army, they surrendered without a fight.

They flung open their city gates, kneeling in submission. Not content with betraying their own, they eagerly guided demon soldiers to hunt down surviving humans, all to earn a shred of favor.

They sought only to prove themselves useful dogs to the Demon Race, clinging to any scrap of value.

As the Demon Race’s invasion swept through, countless children lost their mothers mere days after birth.

Where the Demon Race passed, not a blade of grass survived. Every living male was slaughtered without mercy. Due to the physiological similarities between humans and demons, they often spared young women.

These women were kept to bear offspring for them, while the men were uniformly exterminated.

On that day, the continent was strewn with severed limbs and corpses. The heavens themselves seemed dyed red with blood.

War raged everywhere with no corner left untouched. “Millions of bodies lay fallen, rivers of blood stretching for thousands of miles.”

In the regions yet untouched by the Demon Race’s invasion, countless soldiers abandoned thoughts of their starving children and wives at home.

With resolve steeled for death, they marched to reinforce the frontlines.

Knowing full well that the path ahead led only to doom, they gripped their weapons, determined to carve a bloody path forward—for the future of humanity and for the loved ones left behind.

As more human powerhouses and soldiers threw their flesh and blood into halting the Demon Race’s advance, a turning point emerged.

In that moment, everyone charged forward without hesitation, sacrificing themselves generously, piling up corpses in their wake.

This phenomenon stunned the Demon Race. In their minds, humans were nothing but cowardly, selfish beings afraid of death. Why then were they so valiant today?

For the sake of others, they willingly offered their lives, standing ready to die for one another.

After a desperate, relentless charge, they finally severed the Demon Race’s unstoppable momentum. The demons fled in disarray, and humanity claimed a fleeting victory, earning a brief respite.

This marked the first victory of humanity against the Demon Race in their long conflict—a historic moment. The survivors glimpsed a ray of hope.

On that day, the entire Human Race celebrated, believing they had finally repelled the Demon Race. At least, that’s what everyone thought.

Laughter and cheers filled the air as they raised their cups in toast.

Little did they know, this was merely a cruel game to the Demon God. Slaughtering too quickly bored him; he wanted to watch the ants struggle, to grant them hope only to crush it. That sensation thrilled him.

So he ordered his forces to feign defeat and retreat, allowing humanity to recover some vitality, setting the stage for the next great massacre.

The peaceful days didn’t last long. This time, the Demon God showed no mercy, personally taking to the battlefield.

With absolute power, he suppressed the entire battlefield in an instant.

The humans, still basking in their supposed triumph, didn’t even have time to react. Like ants, they were crushed without a whisper of resistance.

The so-called human powerhouses fell in less than a second, unable to utter a sound before they perished, as if they had never existed.

In that moment, no safe haven remained on the continent. Many reclusive great families emerged from hiding to join the fight.

Yet it was all futile. Before absolute power, numbers meant nothing—adding more bodies to the count was the only outcome.

My Murong Clan was no exception.

In that war, my ancestor, Murong Jianbai, was the only being in the past ten thousand years on the Sword Qi Continent to achieve the Sword God Realm. The world knew him as the White Sword God.

My ancestor led the entire Murong Clan—two thousand souls, excluding the elderly, weak, sick, disabled, and women—into battle with every able-bodied member.

I was still young back then, so I was left at home. Naive as I was, I believed that with my ancestor’s involvement, victory was assured. In my memories, he was invincible!

Yet as I waited with eager anticipation for everyone’s safe return, what came instead was devastating news.

In that battle to ease the pressure on the frontlines, my ancestor fearlessly led our clan to the first line of defense, clashing directly with the Demon God.

That battle shook the heavens and earth, the ground itself trembling. Nearly ninety-nine percent of our clan perished.

My father, older brother, and older sister—they remained on that battlefield forever. My ancestor fought the Demon God toe-to-toe, neither able to claim victory over the other.

At that time, my ancestor couldn’t spare a moment to aid humanity. He could only watch as the outnumbered humans were slaughtered like lambs, nearly wiped out entirely.

They had no power to fight back. Finally, my ancestor gazed down at the chaos below—humans displaced, families shattered.

He saw his own clansmen falling one after another.

The Demon God unleashed his absolute power, darkening the world as if night had fallen. With a single palm strike, he aimed to eradicate humanity’s last survivors.

Though my ancestor blocked this strike head-on, he knew that even if he could withstand the Demon God, he couldn’t shelter the remaining humans.

“If I don’t descend into Hell, who will?”

My ancestor chose to sacrifice the few for the many. He offered himself up, using all his divine power and forsaking reincarnation for eternity as the cost.

Though those in the God Realm can achieve immortality, my ancestor sacrificed himself to form the Sealing Barrier, forever bound within it.

In another form, he continued to protect humanity.

Suddenly, fierce winds howled.

They swept the Demon Race back to their homeland.

Between the territories of the Human and Demon Races, an unyielding Sealing Barrier rose, shaking the heavens themselves.

Witnessing my ancestor’s selfless sacrifice, the Demon God made a vow on the other side of the boundary.

As long as the Sealing Barrier stood, the Demon Race would never invade human lands again.

Murong Qingxue led Gu Qingyi to the site of the Sealing Barrier, where boundless golden light pulsed rhythmically.

Afterward, the surviving members of my Murong Clan relocated here en masse, vanishing from the world’s sight.

Generation after generation, we have guarded this border.

This place was declared a forbidden zone, off-limits to anyone.

Later, as the continent’s powers reshuffled, everyone believed the Murong Clan had perished entirely in that great war between humans and demons.

Yet the boundary requires the power of the Sword God Realm to maintain it. Any lesser strength is merely a drop in the bucket.

In recent years, I’ve felt the Sealing Barrier growing increasingly frail. I fear it won’t hold much longer.

At best, it might last a few thousand years; at worst, perhaps only a few hundred.

Though I’ve been reinforcing it with my own power, my talent has its limits. I’ve yet to step into that realm.

Murong Qingxue’s eyes dimmed with self-mockery as she spoke. “All the remaining resources of my clan were poured into me, yet I still couldn’t glimpse that realm. Without becoming a Sword God, no matter how strong I am, I’m just a slightly tougher ant. If you don’t ascend to godhood, you’re nothing but an insect.”