Old Devil naturally understood that if Eric Bennett bore the “Number One Under Heaven” sequence destiny talisman, he would naturally be able to resist his preaching. But if Eric Bennett truly possessed the Number One Under Heaven sequence, how could he have not a trace of spiritual energy in his body, and even be forced here by others?

Old Devil prided himself on being peerlessly wise, with extraordinary insight, yet he simply couldn’t make sense of what was before him—a mere youth, with no cultivation at all, yet leaving him at a complete loss. If word of this got out, the heads of the Nine Great Heavenly Gates would surely rush over to study what was going on.

Eric Bennett tried several times in a row, but never succeeded. Each time the spiritual energy of heaven and earth entered his body, he was assaulted by all kinds of pain, each wave worse than the last. Even with Eric Bennett’s superhuman willpower forcing himself to endure and channel the spiritual energy into his meridians, it simply wouldn’t circulate.

He collapsed repeatedly. Each time, Old Devil thought, “This time it’s done!” But every time, Eric Bennett would get back up like an unkillable cockroach. After several rounds of this, Old Devil couldn’t take it anymore and simply stopped talking, fixing his gaze on him to see what he would do next.

Unexpectedly, even after Old Devil stopped speaking, Eric Bennett would still, after a while, let out a furious roar and collapse, then rest for a bit before getting up to continue meditating.

Gradually, Old Devil realized it wasn’t his words that were making the boy collapse, but that he was running into problems with his cultivation.

Reaching this conclusion brought Old Devil no comfort at all; instead, the veins on his forehead bulged even more. If he could get out, he’d definitely throw away all dignity and go brawl with Eric Bennett in person, stomping hard on his lower body a few times to vent his anger.

Who am I? I am the mighty Grand Devil! Even the heads of the Nine Great Heavenly Gates must tread carefully before me, guarding their hearts and silently reciting Daoist scriptures. The number one prodigy in the cultivation world only lasted five days before me—and that was only because Old Ancestor was in a good mood and toying with him. Over these thousands of years, Old Ancestor has talked countless righteous cultivators to death with nothing but his mouth. But this kid, he’s calmly cultivating right in front of Old Ancestor! If this gets out, my old face will be utterly disgraced!

Grand Devil fumed inwardly, sulking in silence, but also grew curious—what cultivation method was this kid practicing, to make it so difficult?

Old Devil hailed from ancient times and was far from ordinary in knowledge. After observing for a while, he saw through the situation. When Eric Bennett fell again, rested, and prepared to try once more, Old Devil said languidly, “No need to force it. Your body is clearly unusual; I’m afraid you can’t cultivate demonic arts.”

Of course Eric Bennett understood what was going on. But the “Cang Mang Scripture” was a sacred demonic text of ancient times—it would be a real shame to give it up.

In the cultivation world, whether righteous or demonic, there are only a handful of foundational Daoist arts for people to use, and they’re all about the same. Everyone knows their contents; the only difference lies in each person’s unique understanding. This is where having insight pays off.

Those with insight can have more unique interpretations, so their starting point is naturally higher than most.

In his previous life, Eric Bennett also practiced an ordinary basic demonic art, starting out no better than anyone else. Later, he cultivated the trash techniques of his small sect, starting even lower than others. If he hadn’t later obtained the “Drought Demon’s Blood Burn,” he might have been buried in obscurity his whole life.

Given a second chance, of course Eric Bennett wanted to start higher than others. The “Cang Mang Scripture” was one of the rare arts that was superior from the very foundation. If he couldn’t cultivate it, he’d have to seek out righteous methods, but with Eric Bennett’s current status, he could only find some ordinary techniques—not much better than anyone else’s starting point.

With Old Devil’s words, Eric Bennett became even more certain of his judgment. Instantly, a surge of uncontrollable anger rushed to his chest. He jumped up, pointed at the sky, and cursed, “Damn heavens, rotten heavens, are you messing with me on purpose?!”

Grand Devil still spoke languidly: “Why not join us? I have ways to let you cultivate.”

Eric Bennett said nothing, hugging his knees as he sat on the ground, waiting for the sealing formation to complete a full cycle, filling all thirty-six jade essence crystals into it.

In the past, when the jailers came down, they always brought that three-edged jade cong and a pair of rhombus-shaped jade tokens, which could open the gate from within. Even if they went mad, they could still get out. But Eric Bennett waited until the sealing formation was fully reinforced, the great array trembled slightly, and only then did the gate slowly open.

Eric Bennett ignored Old Devil, who sat in the center of the three giant stone pillars, and turned to leave. But Old Devil, unwilling to let it go, called after him, “Hey, kid, dare to come again next time? I’ve lived so long, I’ve got some good stuff. If you want it, come back next time.”

Eric Bennett paused for a moment, said nothing, and kept walking.

Old Devil was extremely unwilling—he couldn’t just let this kid walk away! He’d spent five days in front of me, not only unconvinced, but even cultivating on his own! If he lives on peacefully, where will I, Old Ancestor, put my face?!

“Kid, remember: on the Soul-Climbing Chain, from the bottom up, the 365th step, half a foot deep into the void on the left side—today, a spatial treasure will appear there. Lucky you. If you dare come again, Old Ancestor will have more for you.”