Shameless Immortal: Emperor of Ten Thousand Beauties
Chapter 247: Deal With The Demon
With a wide sweep of his sleeves, the elder channeled his Qi, sending the one hundred crystalline vials flying out into the crowd like a glittering shower of jade shooting stars.
"A free sample of our new Tier 2 Advanced Pure Flow Pills! Ninety-six percent purity!" the elder roared.
"Test it themselves! If you disperse peacefully today, your paid advance orders will be fulfilled with these exact pills tomorrow morning!"
Down in the courtyard, a frantic scramble erupted.
Fierce rogue leaders and veteran miner captains lunged into the air, snatching the vials out of the sky.
The moment a scarred, early Foundation Establishment mercenary popped the seal of his caught vial, the dense, refreshing aroma of purifying snow-lotus erupted outward, instantly clearing the heavy, dust-laden air of the courtyard.
The mercenary’s eyes went completely wide. Without hesitating, he tossed the green sphere into his mouth.
For a second, he stood frozen.
Then, a brilliant, visible ripple of pure, unadulterated spiritual energy surged through his body.
The toxic earth-sediment that had blocked his meridians for months, the agonizing occupational hazard of digging in the iron mines, was violently flushed out of his pores in a mist of gray vapor.
His Qi circulation accelerated with a dull, roaring sound.
"Heavens!" the mercenary gasped, staring at his hands in absolute shock.
"My... my meridians are completely clear! The purity... it really is over ninety-five percent! It’s even stronger than the Golden Cauldron’s top-tier stock!"
"I caught one too! The earth-toxin in my chest is gone!" another sect representative screamed in pure ecstasy.
The manic, murderous rage of the mob evaporated in an instant.
Cultivators who had been hacking at the estate’s pillars seconds ago were now staring up at the balcony with burning, fanatic greed in their eyes.
A ninety-six percent purity Tier 2 medicine offered at a fifty-five percent discount was practically a robbery in broad daylight.
If they destroyed the Cao Clan now, they would be destroying the source of this miraculous windfall.
"We will give the Cao Clan until tomorrow morning!" the scarred mercenary shouted, turning to face the rest of the mob while gripping his broadsword.
"Anyone who tries to damage this estate before dawn is an enemy of my mercenary guild! Let’s go! We wait for the morning opening!"
Like an ebbing tide, the thousands of armed cultivators began to aggressively clear out of the compound, whispering frantically among themselves, their bloodlust entirely replaced by a desperate hunger for the morning distribution.
Back inside the grand council hall, the muffled sounds of the retreating crowd finally brought a horrific, heavy silence back to the room.
Cao Yan sat unmoving on his mahogany throne, the flickering torchlight casting long, monstrous shadows across his pale, determined face.
He looked at his shaking hands, then slowly clenched them into tight fists.
The immediate crisis was averted, but the phantom weight of "Mo Liu’s" invisible collar was already tightening around his neck.
"Patriarch..." a senior elder whispered, stepping forward with a tray holding a pristine brush, ink compounded from spirit-beast blood, and the heavy, golden ancestral seal of the clan.
"The crowd has dispersed. But the sun is setting. Tomorrow’s dawn will arrive in less than twelve hours."
"I know," Cao Yan whispered, his voice dropping to a dark, hollow rasp.
He reached out, his fingers slowly brushing against the cold gold of the ancestral seal, the very symbol of his family’s independent heritage, passed down through five generations of proud cultivators.
"Prepare the grand hall for tomorrow’s dawn," the patriarch commanded, staring blankly into the shadows of the ceiling.
"Burn the highest-grade spiritual incense, clean the blood from the courtyard, and ensure every elder is present in their finest robes. When Senior Mo Liu returns, we will sign the covenant."
He paused, a venomous, distorted smile creeping onto his lips as his late-stage Golden Core aura flared with a volatile, self-destructive light.
"The Golden Cauldron thinks they have orchestrated our funeral. Let them enjoy their quiet night. Tomorrow, we introduce them to the demon we’ve invited into this city."
The night passed in an agonizing crawl for the Cao Clan.
While the rest of Crimson Iron City slept, the clan estate was a hive of frantic, muted activity.
Outer disciples scrubbed the blood from the courtyard cobblestones, while elders personally inspected the primary alchemy chambers, cleaning the cold cauldrons to a mirror shine.
They had no herbs to fill them, but everything had to look immaculate for the demon they were welcoming at dawn.
When the first pale rays of the morning sun pierced through the mountain fog, the grand council hall was entirely transformed.
The air was thick with the scent of burning premium spiritual incense, and every single elder stood stiffly in their finest ceremonial silk robes, lined up according to their cultivation rank.
At the head of the long mahogany table sat the gold-and-blood covenant contract, drafted on high-grade spirit-beast parchment. Beside it rested the heavy golden ancestral seal.
Cao Yan stood by his throne, his eyes bloodshot but filled with a terrifying, absolute resolve.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
As the final shadow of dawn aligned with the hall’s central pillar, the air at the far end of the room warped violently.
The space rippled like water, and without a single breath of warning, the dark-robed figure of Shen Yu smoothly stepped out of the Phantom Steps.
He didn’t even look at the lined-up elders, he simply glided toward the empty chair at the end of the table and sat down, casually resting his boots on the polished wood.
"You are punctual, Patriarch Cao," Shen Yu purred beneath the shadow of his hood, his voice laced with that familiar, mocking amusement.
"I like a businessman who respects deadlines."
Cao Yan did not hesitate.
He walked down the steps of the dais, picked up the beast-parchment contract and the ancestral seal, and walked straight toward Shen Yu.
With a heavy, deliberate motion, he bit the tip of his thumb, smearing his essence-blood across the bottom of the contract, and slammed the golden ancestral seal down onto the wet crimson.
Boom.
A dull, spiritual resonance rippled through the hall as the contract binding the Cao Clan to eighty percent iron production and absolute obedience flared with a faint light, validating the blood covenant.
"The contract is signed, Senior," Cao Yan said, his voice completely hollowed out, entirely void of pride.
"Our iron, our autonomy, our future, it is all yours. Now... give us the weapons to burn the Golden Cauldron."
Shen Yu let out a low, deeply satisfied chuckle that echoed wickedly through the quiet room.
He slowly lowered his boots from the table, his hidden golden pupils flashing with a chilling, predatory ecstasy.
"Magnificent," Shen Yu whispered, a thoroughly sharp smirk curling his lips.
"I admire a man who knows when to butcher his own pride to survive."