Chapter One: The Great Roc Rises, Clouds Soar

Across the world, through thousands of mountains and rivers, countless valleys and streams, wherever there is sky and earth, there is life. People, beasts, birds, reptiles, fish, plants—life takes on myriad forms, endless and ever-changing.

Any living being capable of transcending the cycle of life and death, breaking free from the endless mortal world, can be called an immortal spirit. There are also those who take the opposite path, yet still achieve immortality and become another form of life—these are called demons.

I am a demon. After cultivating for seven thousand eight hundred sixty-nine years, I have finally shed my original shell, refined my true form, and achieved the goal I have pursued all my life: to possess a lifespan as long as heaven and earth, to shine alongside the sun and moon, and to attain the endless years of the demonic path.

My true form is the Golden-Winged Great Roc. Though I am an ancient and rare species, born with innate spirituality and powers far beyond most living beings, able to soar ten thousand miles in an instant, rise from the eastern mountains at dawn, and descend into the northern seas by dusk. Though a bird, I do not submit to the phoenix; I cross the four seas, tear apart flood dragons with my claws, roam the Five Sacred Mountains, subdue tigers, and intimidate leopards.

But after all, I am not a divine beast, nor an immortal bird. Divine beasts are born with endless lifespans, almost like gods if not for their beastly nature. Immortal birds are favored, protected by immortal spirits, and can enjoy longevity in peace.

As for me, I could only painstakingly cultivate step by step, endure endless years, absorb the essence of sun and moon, feed on mist, dew, clouds, and rosy clouds, withstand snow, rain, wind, and frost, endure thunder and lightning, and suffer countless hardships to reach this point.

The demonic path spans ten thousand years: spirit—monster—demon—fiend.

A living being can become a spirit at a hundred years old, that is, one with wisdom, able to transcend its nature. Of course, not all cultivating beings must take this step. For example, humans are born wise, and become spirits naturally, with an innate advantage. Those with great power can become monsters, possessing abilities their kind cannot match. Likewise, many beings are born extraordinary, far beyond other species. Only after a thousand years of cultivation can one become a demon, regardless of the type of being—this requires arduous cultivation, but grants boundless transformation, strange abilities, and transcendence of life itself. But to achieve the demonic path, the ultimate form of life—

—Countless ages.

Whether one can succeed is still unknown. Countless beings have walked this path, but those who reach the final goal are as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.

If I had not been born as a Golden-Winged Great Roc, an ancient and rare spiritual bird, and if I had not been perceptive and wise, spending nearly five thousand years in secluded cultivation without leaving Shouyang Mountain, I could not have achieved this in just over seven thousand eight hundred years.

The great roc rises with the wind in a single day, soaring up ninety thousand miles.

With a long, piercing cry, I rose from Shouyang Mountain, from the Floating Cave, lifted off the ground, soared into the nine heavens, stretched the muscles and bones that had not moved for five thousand years, and was filled with emotion.

Is this my body?

The appearance of a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old human youth, with delicate features and a tall, upright figure, dressed in light yellow clothes, straw sandals, and cloth socks, exuding a free and unrestrained aura, moving with ease and composure.

Good—

Two thousand years ago, I soared across the world, traveling the four corners of heaven and earth, the six directions and eight extremes, wherever my wings could reach, traversing all realms.

So even though I have not flown the skies for five thousand years, I am in no hurry to revisit old skills. Now, what I have is—time—

Willow banks, Slender West Lake, a ten-mile-long causeway.

A place of unparalleled beauty in the world, yet I have come here for another purpose.

Hmm, why are people here looking at me like this? Just now, several young women came over to ask if I was an actor. What is an actor? And why are people here dressed so strangely? Almost no one wears long robes; their clothes are divided into upper and lower parts. The men are still acceptable, but why do the women dress in a way that barely covers their bodies, with arms and legs exposed?

The scenery around here is also very different from before—how unpredictable the world is.

But this change is too great, isn't it!?

Hey! Buddy, you’re over here—come with me, everyone’s waiting for you!

I don’t know this fellow, but from the way he greeted me, anyone would think we were close friends.

With my current cultivation, nothing within a thousand miles can escape my spiritual senses, so I had already noticed him when he was still several miles away—he is a demon.

He has definitely not cultivated for more than two hundred years, a world of difference from me, but I cannot discern his original form.

It’s not that he is so remarkable, but because his parents or earlier ancestors were of mixed blood—a hybrid demon, and among his ancestors there must be human blood. With only two hundred years of cultivation, it’s impossible to transform into such a perfect human form.

I smiled slightly in my heart and did not hesitate.

Ah! Luckily you came, I couldn’t find everyone.

With arms around shoulders, chatting warmly, this fellow looks even younger than me, so the two of us really do look like a pair of friends.