Chapter Twenty: Transformation

Escaping from the camp, Six Ugly felt an exhilarating freedom, as if the sky stretched boundlessly for birds to soar. This ordeal had only deepened its thirst for power. In its past life, though similar in many ways, there were always vast national institutions pressing down from above, forcing those who dwelled in darkness to merely eke out a shadowed existence. Here, though, things were different—the forces at play were even greater and purer. Once possessed, not only could one disregard the nation; even heaven and earth might be ignored.

Thinking of the twelve demon pills in the Demon Refining Pot, Six Ugly could not help but feel a surge of delight. With those pills, breaking through to the transformation stage should pose no problem; thus, it would achieve the most basic requirement for survival—

To become a demon.

Six Ugly sped madly through the wilderness, not knowing where it was headed. The camp was some distance from the Rocky Ridge, a place it had never been, so it simply ran toward the mountains, wherever that might lead.

Half the night passed swiftly. When Six Ugly finally stopped, it was already a hundred miles from the camp.

Whether it had entered the inner mountains or not, it had no way of knowing; it only felt a desperate thirst and hunger, needing to find a place to rest and eat—ideally somewhere safe to hide and take its pills.

Listening intently, Six Ugly locked onto a direction, ran a few more miles, passed through a dense birch forest, and arrived at a mountain stream. Comparing the thin sunlight in the sky, the west held birch woods, the north a towering mountain, the east a lake bordered by thick shrubs interspersed with robust red maples.

The south was the direction it had come from.

Six Ugly observed the area for a while, ensuring nothing was amiss before leaping to the stream and drinking greedily, filling its belly. It then stood in the shallows, scooping water to wash away the dried blood encrusting its body.

While washing, it kept alert for any signs of trouble, but nothing disturbed its peace, so it relaxed and headed toward the eastern thicket.

It planned to rest here, consume the demon pills, and wait until it evolved into a demon before venturing further. With its current strength, entry into the mountains would risk it becoming a monster’s meal—a fate too laughable to consider.

Choosing the largest red maple, it climbed up, concealed itself within the foliage, and swiftly entered the world inside the Pot.

This night was not wasted; as it ran, Six Ugly had kept an eye on the Demon Refining Pot’s activity. It had refined several second-grade spiritual demon pills: one for stabilizing the foundation, three for nourishing the essence, and one for clearing the mind.

Judging by the pills, it had reached a bottleneck, so Six Ugly stopped refining and instead preserved the remaining demon pills and corpses, intending to make spiritual essence pills to boost its power.

Sure enough, after consuming the spiritual pills, its physique and strength reached the peak of transformation. The clearing pill, as before, had little effect; insight seemed to be something only grasped intuitively, not taught or felt directly.

What remained were two transformation demon pills and one core-forming demon pill. Whether refining them all would be enough, it did not know, but with dozens of corpses in reserve, it should suffice.

Almost unconsciously, Six Ugly placed the three remaining demon pills and thirteen demon beast corpses into the Pot: besides the transformation-stage leopard, there were four core-forming beasts, five speech-opening beasts, and four essence-gathering beast corpses.

Once all were inside, Six Ugly suddenly realized it had scattered them without purpose, each corpse placed instinctively, as if it had known all along what to do.

Could this be the effect of the clearing pill, enhancing its insight?

Six Ugly pondered for a while, finally shaking its head, unable to find a clear answer.

Two hours later, a rare third-grade spiritual essence pill appeared, and Six Ugly swallowed it.

In an instant, it felt a surging demonic energy flooding its body, coursing through its veins again and again, branching out endlessly, invading every channel—searing wherever it went.

It started as one thread, then a sheet, finally saturating every muscle, every blood vessel, every bone—the sensation was like being roasted alive, blurring its senses, stoking an insatiable hunger for blood and slaughter.

For a moment, Six Ugly thought it had fully transformed, abandoning its human past to plunge endlessly down the path of the demon to the abyss’s end.

But it gritted its teeth, clinging to a shred of consciousness—not because it resisted becoming a monster, nor out of attachment to its former self, but because it could not accept oblivion, losing its memories to demonic transformation. Those memories, though full of killing, hatred, and blood, still held things it could never forget—

Family bonds, though brief and painful; friendship with companions, full of betrayal and death; entanglements with women, mostly deception, yet sometimes pure and true…

The slight sweetness amidst the agony made it all the more precious.

These memories enabled it to survive those years and were treasures it would never willingly discard.

The pain entwined Six Ugly’s flesh, marrow, even soul, leaving its mind blank, struggling only to resist the power, refusing to submit or let go.

This was no longer demonic nature, but humanity—a blood-bound humanity!

I refuse… ah, ah, ah!

…

When Six Ugly’s consciousness returned to its body, it found the pain gone. The gray-white demonic energy had turned blood-red, swirling with countless vibrant colors like a rainbow.

In its awareness, the demonic energy began to gather in its chest, calming. As it drained from limbs and channels, the energy ball suddenly pulled in all remaining energy, sending tremors through its body. When the shaking ceased, a feeling indescribable flooded its mind.

It was a sensation, an awareness, a memory—the awakening of its innate demon power:

Divine Form.

Divine Form changes the body, alters the appearance, embodies all beings, transforms into human with mind and body intact, becomes beast as if born so. Indistinguishable from immortals, indistinct from demons—like a perfect imitation.

The rune contracted, condensed, finally solidifying and attaching beside Six Ugly’s heart chamber…

The demon core, commonly called the inner pill; gods and immortals call it the nascent infant, devils call it the source of evil. For demons, it is simply a core.

This is the fountainhead of demon power, the tomb of its past.

Six Ugly gradually withdrew from inner contemplation, looked at its body—it had finally taken human form: a scrawny, ugly dwarf less than three feet tall, mismatched eyes, ears with growths, but no longer a monster—now a person.

Appearance did not matter, nor height, nor physique; what mattered was the demon core and human form. With both, it could practice martial arts, refine its power, overturn the heavens, shake the earth. Most importantly, only thus could it survive!

It had succeeded!

At last, it had become a true demon!

This time, Six Ugly did not shout or vent, but simply laughed—laughter so intense it brought tears. Unconsciously, it began humming a song once learned:

“I am a demon, and so it is well;
Born to a lowly fate, who are you to judge?
Heaven’s wrath, earth’s doom—what of it?
My fate is mine, demon-born, not heaven-given!”

Whoever composed those mischievous lyrics, at this moment, they fit perfectly…

My fate, by me and by demon, never by heaven!

Six Ugly rarely revealed its true feelings, and this shock lasted only a short while. When its mind finally calmed, it felt weary, as though it had lingered too long in this world.

Just as it was about to leave, it caught a rare scent of roasted meat.

Demon beasts ate raw flesh, but only upon transformation did they crave cooked food. Six Ugly had not tasted such delicacies in ages; the aroma made its mouth water, nostrils twitching as it bounded toward the mountain.

Through streams and cliffs, it soon found a firepit by the mountainside creek, flames licking a massive wild boar. The meat was golden and fragrant, irresistibly tempting.

Starving, Six Ugly could not resist, immediately pouncing and devouring the boar. Strength surged through its body, filling every limb.

Eyeing a nearby boulder, it inhaled deeply and punched—feeling the stone shudder and crack, fissures spreading several feet.

After becoming a demon, its power, speed, physique, and reflexes had all greatly improved—truly a world of difference!

Six Ugly admired its fist, tilted its head to gaze at the endless chaos above, then turned sharply to the darkness among the mountain cliffs.

Unnoticed, a long Eight-Ox crossbow bolt appeared in its hand.

It chose the crossbow bolt because, after transformation, its body was too short for human weapons; beast bones were now too light. Only the bolt could be wielded like a staff or spear, albeit awkwardly.

Footsteps shuffled, and a figure slowly emerged from the woods, left hand dragging a giant wolf carcass, right hand gripping a hefty chopping blade, its square head dripping blood as it clanked forward. This demon was broad and round, belly protruding, dignified yet fleshy, eight round tumors bulging behind its head, suffused with demonic energy. Despite its appearance, a brutish air lingered.

Seeing Six Ugly, the demon paused, but its gaze quickly fixed on the roasting boar. Sniffing vigorously, its eyes spun, then it tossed the wolf carcass and raised its blade, shouting, “You filthy thief, are you human or demon? Stealing my food—prepare to be beaten!”

With that, it charged at Six Ugly.

Six Ugly, newly transformed, did not want trouble but was curious to test its strength. Seeing the demon attack without pause, it swung the bolt to meet it.

With a clash, blade and bolt collided. Though the demon was large, its strength was slightly less than Six Ugly’s and it stumbled back, fat quivering.

The demon immediately felt fear; Six Ugly, meanwhile, grew elated, roaring as it leapt and smashed the bolt down.

With that momentum, the fat demon was no match, retreating under repeated blows. Its attacks grew sloppy, steps unstable, until Six Ugly struck its forehead head-on.

The demon’s skin was thick; its head only swelled and reddened, not fatal, but its technique faltered. Six Ugly, well-fed and energized, battered it repeatedly—soon, the demon dropped its blade, arms bruised, body nearly broken. As Six Ugly prepared to strike again, the demon waved its hands and pleaded,

“Brother, don’t hit, don’t hit! I surrender! Willing to follow you, just please stop…”

Well, it actually begged to become a little brother?

Perhaps it was the word “brother,” or perhaps the figure before it overlapped with a memory of someone who once shielded it from bullets; Six Ugly truly lowered the bolt. Weighing killing for a demon pill against having a companion knowledgeable of demon ways, it naturally chose the latter.

It was just a feeling—or perhaps fate, even destiny.