Chapter 20: The Demon Prince
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"Monsters aren't born. They're built by betrayal, sealed with rage, and crowned by power." —Ancient Cultivation Saying
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Imperial War Hall — Midnight
Sparks flickered across a massive jade map hovering in the center of the Imperial War Hall. Floating red markers blinked over the western border like blood-drops across parchment.
Qin Feng stood beside the Emperor, several top sect masters, divine tacticians, and military strategists. His presence alone had raised more than a few brows, but no one questioned it out loud. After the banquet incident, everyone had seen what he could do.
"You're not a general," the Eastern Commander said, a sneer barely hidden behind his silver beard.
"No. I'm bait," Qin Feng replied flatly, folding his arms.
The Emperor grunted, amused. "And bait that kills. That's why you're here."
He pointed to a pulsing red flame on the map. "The Demon Prince has taken the Fallen Blight Marsh. He's forming a citadel made from cursed spirit bones. Cultivators who step within five li of the place either die, vanish, or return screaming."
One elder scoffed. "My disciples can crush any demon."
Qin Feng glanced at him. "Then why is your last squad still screaming in a soul jar?"
An awkward pause followed. No one laughed. Not even the Emperor. The soul jar containing those lost disciples had become a cautionary tale.
"Good," the Emperor said, clearing the tension. "Silence means we're done with denial. The Blight Marsh threatens every sect and state beyond our walls. Prepare the war party."
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1. Black Sky March
Two days later, Qin Feng flew across the continent on the back of a thunder wyvern, leading a formation of elite cultivators, S-rank mission agents, and high-level scouts. Behind them trailed a flotilla of flying ships and spirit-beast squadrons.
The skies turned black as they neared the Blight Marsh. The clouds above didn't just darken—they churned. Spirals of decay, flickering lightning, and flashes of corrupted spirit signatures danced overhead.
The air tasted wrong. It burned at the throat and dulled spiritual senses.
Beside him, the veiled informant from the banquet now wore reinforced black armor laced with ancient runes. She had swapped elegance for ruthlessness.
"Name's Yueying, by the way. I don't recruit people I don't bleed beside."
Qin Feng nodded. "Good. Now I won't feel bad if you die."
She grinned faintly. "If I die, the entire Western Spirit Web collapses. Just promise to avenge me dramatically."
The squad landed on a crumbling black tower overlooking the marsh. Runes flickered faintly around its base, etched centuries ago by a forgotten sect.
The mist approached like hungry fingers, reaching with intent.
"He's close," Qin Feng muttered. The Immortal Core inside him pulsed steadily now, like it recognized something ahead. A connection... or a warning.
Yueying stared ahead. "You're about to meet the real you. The version of you that lost control."
Qin Feng didn't reply.
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2. The Demon Citadel
The citadel wasn't a structure. It was a wound in the world.
Bone towers grew like trees, their spires covered in runes made from dried blood. Flesh bridges stretched between them, pulsing with life. Pools of red water reflected not the sky, but faces long dead.
Screams drifted on the wind, distorted and layered like they were passing through a thousand mouths at once.
The colossal gate in the shape of a dragon's skull opened slowly as if taking a breath. The interior exhaled heat and sorrow.
The squad stepped in.
Corrupted cultivators lined the halls. Twisted limbs. Hollow eyes. Their bodies defied anatomy. Bones pierced through skin in geometric patterns. Some levitated, others dragged themselves using tongues or tails. Each one bowed.
At the center of it all sat the Demon Prince.
He didn't sit on a throne. He was the throne. A mass of stone and flesh intertwined into a seat that screamed with each breath.
The Demon Prince stood slowly. He was neither wholly man nor beast. Silver hair like liquid moonlight flowed behind him. His horns curled back elegantly, his robe stitched from regret itself.
He stared at Qin Feng, and in that instant, a wave of understanding passed between them.
"You stole my fate," he said. Calm. Certain.
Qin Feng blinked. "Oh. You're that guy."
"The core was meant for me. I was the destined one. And you... are an accident."
Yueying's seal flickered to life. "He's not just angry. He remembers the core. That means he's tied to it."
"He was it," Qin Feng murmured.
The Demon Prince raised his hand.
The citadel roared.
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3. Clash of Fate
Lightning met shadow in a clash of fates.
Qin Feng burst forward, streaking across the air like a comet. His fists lit with thunder. The Demon Prince met him midair, claws spinning.
Their first strike shattered the ceiling. A second shook the swamp for miles.
Yueying moved like a ghost, tearing through the corrupted with blade and sigil. Her spells detonated mid-incantation, overcharged from the sheer ambient madness.
The Demon Prince laughed, warping the battlefield. He mimicked sect techniques from memory. One moment, he unleashed the River Cleave. The next, he used Thunder Lotus Palm—Qin Feng's own move, powered by corrupted Qi.
"That's mine!" Qin Feng shouted, blocking with a spinning arc of lightning.
He ducked a void chain, rolled beneath a floating altar, and launched a scroll mid-spin. It burst with divine flame, incinerating a horde.
But the Demon Prince didn't stop. He teleported, using distortion. For every strike Qin Feng dodged, two more formed behind him.
"You're a glitch!" the Prince screamed. "A virus in the weave of fate!"
"Even viruses take down systems," Qin Feng growled, slamming both fists into the enemy's chest.
Chains erupted from the Core.
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4. Reckoning
The citadel broke.
Its towers caved inward. The bridges screamed. The very ground wept blood.
Golden chains burst from the Core, wrapping around the Demon Prince, anchoring him to a spinning sigil that blazed with ancient law.
The Prince roared, his body splitting into tendrils and shadowy echoes.
"You can't contain me! I was this world's balance!"
Qin Feng collapsed to one knee, blood dripping from his mouth. His arm hung broken. One eye was blinded.
Yueying grabbed him, pulling him free. "He's not dead. Not yet. We sealed a shell. The real mind is deeper. Deeper than any of us knew."
Behind them, a scream like a galaxy dying rang out.
A second sun rose on the horizon, but it was black.
Shadow beasts poured from the edge of the swamp. Not dozens. Not hundreds. Tens of thousands. All with glowing glyphs carved into their skulls.
"That's... his army," Yueying whispered. "We didn't stop the war. We started it."
Qin Feng looked up, dazed. "Tell me something good."
She smiled, blood dripping from her chin.
"You're still alive. And now, everyone wants you dead. Welcome to politics."
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To be continued...
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Chapter 21 Preview: Princess in the Ice Prison.
As Qin Feng recovers from the battle, a desperate mission is launched to breach the Ice Prison — a timeless fortress built during the First War. A princess lies dormant within, but thawing her may awaken something far worse than loyalty...
And when the ice cracks — so does the truth.