Monster Chronicles: My Daoist Skill Comes from Mythology

Xuanyu City.

Heavenly Master's Dojo.

Eight towering Heavenly Ghost Kings supported this colossal city, like pillars propping up the heavens, majestic and immense.

In the vast open space stood a grand hall of imposing size.

At the depth of the hall, there was a jade screen.

The distance from the entrance to the screen spanned two miles.

Yunhai knelt on the ground, recounting the sequence of events.

"This subordinate is incompetent and requests the Heavenly Master's punishment!"

Lowering his head in shame, Yunhai appeared deeply remorseful.

Boom!

An invisible force lashed out, striking Yunhai's body.

Crack! Crack!

He dared not resist, his entire body emitting the sound of snapping tendons and cracking bones, like firecrackers. Blood gushed forth in sprays.

Struggling, Yunhai knelt again.

His limbs were twisted into unnatural angles, and the ground beneath him pooled with blood.

Such injuries were trivial for someone like Yunhai, who was an expert at enduring Heavenly Tribulations. With a single thought, he could heal himself.

He simply adopted this pitiful appearance to avoid incurring further wrath from the Heavenly Master.

Most others could not so much as approach the Heavenly Master, but Yunhai, who regularly interacted with him, knew well that the Master's cruelty far exceeded ordinary imagination.

The Heavenly Master had yet to speak; the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive.

Yunhai ventured cautiously, "Heavenly Master, should we seek revenge?"

"Go back. Do not concern yourself with it."

The Heavenly Master's tone was flat.

Feeling as though he had been granted a royal pardon, Yunhai nervously scrambled to his feet and withdrew from this daunting place.

Not until he had flown out of the Heavenly Master's Dojo did he realize he was drenched in cold sweat.

To serve a figure as fearsome as the Heavenly Master was akin to serving a tiger—an immense and unrelenting pressure.

Inwardly, Yunhai harbored a degree of silent complaint. The thought process of someone so powerful was truly inscrutable, remaining indifferent even after the loss of his own son.

If revenge was off the table, then so be it. After all, it wasn't his son who had perished.

Mei Mountain Jungle—no, it was now Donghua Jungle.

At this time, Wang Ziyue was leading a group of Taoist Soldiers to dismantle the Mei Mountain Jungle.

The Mei Mountain Jungle occupied too vast an area, taking up one-third of the entire county, and it was a particularly bustling district.

Palaces and temples couldn't be built directly within the city because such institutions would continuously siphon away the county's vitality, stifling its development while fostering arrogance among the Taoists.

This was especially problematic for neophyte Taoist disciples who, upon first gaining power, were all too eager to show off. Combined with the flattery and servile gestures of ordinary people, luxuries they could never have imagined before now came easily, leading many astray.

Thus, it was crucial for temples and shrines to be located far from urban centers. This was known as "little reclusion, hidden in the wilderness."

Only when the Taoist disciples had advanced in cultivation, gained a clear understanding of the precepts, and endured defeats at the hands of stronger adversaries, would they be allowed to reemerge and gain experience.

This was called "great reclusion, hidden in bustling cities."

There was a natural progression between little and great reclusion. Otherwise, exposure to grand scenes from the outset would lead many to fall from the path.

The entire Mei Mountain Jungle was being relocated to Donghua Jungle.

The personnel of the Taoist Temple underwent a full reevaluation.

All fifteen temple masters were replaced.

For the next half month, Song Lin remained preoccupied with unending tasks.

Overseeing the restructuring of fifteen Taoist Temples was an enormous undertaking.

The former Rampant Soldier Method sects were entirely replaced by Donghua sects, and all dharma altars and soul altars were dismantled and swapped for Taiji Thunder Seals.

Other minor magic veins were purged, their practitioners redirected toward cultivation paths such as the Horse Immortal Arts, Swordsmanship, and Core Formation.

Balancing the old generation and the new was crucial; the elders of the past could not all be discarded at once. Stability had to be ensured so that the transition to the newcomers could proceed seamlessly.

Of course, Song Lin executed these adjustments cautiously, appointing members of the Donghua Sect to all fifteen temple master positions.

With reliable oversight in place, there was less risk of insubordination cloaked in false compliance.

An additional half month passed.

Everything finally reached a stable state.

Song Lin made his way to the depths of Yin Mountain.

There, Zhi Xin awaited alongside eight others.

As soon as they saw Song Lin, they all dropped to their knees, chanting the name of the Taoist Lord in unison.

"Rise."

Song Lin raised his hand in a gesture of benevolence.

"The mission is accomplished. The Demon Guard Xiangling has mastered the Thirty-Six Heavenly Gang Divine Demon Form and stepped into the Purple Mansion Realm. The other Sword Guards and True Guards… all at Core Formation cultivation level, though their lifespans extend only a single Jiazi."

"A single Jiazi…"

There were still more than thirty years left until Phoenix Platform Dragon Throwing, and the Heavenly Master and others had yet to reveal their true hands. For now, they could only persist in their cultivation.

But it seemed like a waste of the group's talent.

Song Lin remained silent, and the others merely watched him quietly, refraining from voicing their thoughts.

Suddenly, Song Lin turned to Xiangling and asked, "Have you received any word from the elders of Yin Spring Palace recently?"

"None."

"Very well. You are to guard the Ghost Market and simultaneously investigate the whereabouts of the Yin Spring Palace members."

"As you command!"

Xiangling hesitated and asked, "Taoist Lord, are we not seeking revenge against the Taoist School?"

The others' gazes also turned toward Song Lin.

Zhi Xin had instilled within them a perspective that highlighted the darkness within the Taoist School. Although their direct targets of hatred had been dealt with by Zhi Xin, the root cause remained this decaying and corrupt world.

Having borne blood grudges, they too embraced this outlook.

"It is not yet time."

The moment for an unwavering break with the Heavenly Master had not yet arrived.

The Yin Spring Palace members had not returned; Zhi Xin had not yet endured the Fire Tribulation. The Hidden Pulse members from the two jungles had not yet pledged allegiance. Additionally, Song Lin's own jungle's internal affairs were not yet fully organized. To act now would be unwise.

Donghua Jungle now encompassed twenty-seven Taoist Temples, covering all of Meilin County and governing a population exceeding six million.

If these resources were fully consolidated, the jungle's strength would certainly soar to a new level.

More importantly, external conditions had yet to deteriorate.

It must be noted that Wu Country was surrounded by demon nations on all sides.

The strength of these demon nations even surpassed that of Wu Country's cultivators.

If these demons were to stir up trouble, it would provide opportunities for action and maneuvering.

Song Lin assigned tasks, and Xiangling led her team back to the Ghost Market.

Only Zhi Xin and Song Lin remained at the scene.

"Wait for the right moment. The demons might make moves in the coming years," Zhi Xin remarked.

"In a world striving for peace, with the Taoist School's modus operandi, they will inevitably sacrifice those at the bottom to deplete the demons. At that moment, it will be our opportunity to ignite a wildfire across the land."

"I understand," Song Lin responded.

Both shared the same conviction.

The future inevitably belonged to them. This wasn't blind optimism; as long as their path remained unwavering, the vast populace at the base of society would naturally gravitate toward those who upheld the ideals of the Three Refuges and the Nine Precepts.

"Have the Hidden Pulse members stay active. You can establish a disciplinary department responsible for overseeing the cultivators."

"Hmm, that's a feasible idea."

Song Lin also found merit in the suggestion. When their organization was small, it was easy to personally vet every individual and ensure no one strayed from their duties. Now that their operations had grown, relying solely on self-discipline or supervision from vested superiors was no longer viable.

An independent external body was essential.

Moreover, it had to remain completely separate from the jungle's overt structure and the temple masters, an independent force cultivated exclusively by the Taoist Lord.

"However, how should we establish it without drawing the Taoist School's attention?"

The Taoist School already had similar institutions, such as the Recording and Calculation Merit Office, the Heavenly Dao Office, the Black Prison Mansion, and the Left and Right Supervision Prefectures—all tasked with oversight roles.

The jungle didn't truly need to set up a separate institution. Doing so might even invite accusations of overreach.

If they managed everything themselves, then what was the point of having the Taoist Alliance?

"Not so. The Taoist Alliance doesn't recognize the Donghua Rules. Violations of these rules by outsiders won't lead to punishment from the Taoist Alliance. We can establish this oversight body under the pretext of enforcing the Three Refuges and Nine Precepts. As it's a private force of the jungle, no one will criticize it."

Zhi Xin, being the Heavenly Mechanism Minister, pinpointed the crucial issue in just a few words.

"I understand how to proceed," Song Lin declared.

He envisioned an institution from myth: the North Pole Evil Exorcism Institute.

This North Pole Evil Exorcism Institute was not to be confused with the bootleg version under the Taoist Alliance, known as the North Pole Demon Extermination Institute.

The Evil Exorcism Institute had a broader scope.

The Taoists of the North Pole Evil Exorcism Institute adhered to the harsh North Emperor Black Law, acting uprightly and primarily tasked with eradicating evil entities.

The North Emperor Black Law was so severe that any unapproved invocation resulted in death.

In the past Daoist traditions, it was the most stringent code.

Its rules encompassed over a dozen items, including prohibitions against disrespecting Honored Gods, consorting with external heretical influences, performing arbitrary executions, or indulging in emotions of joy, anger, lust, or desire.

These rules were so strict that even mere thoughts of violation could lead to punishment, let alone physical actions.

Only those who had attained the Supreme Forget Love state, with hearts like unyielding stone, could abide by such laws.

This could serve as a powerful sword for the Taoist School.

Of course, Song Lin wouldn't outright plagiarize these laws.

Besides the impracticality of probing people's thoughts, the primary issue was his organization didn't concurrently grant privileges to balance these burdens.

For instance, practitioners of the North Emperor Black Law could communicate directly with the heavens and summon the Ghost King or Divine General of Emperor Ziwei to fight alongside them.

Thus, Song Lin decided to impose the more detailed Three Refuges, Three Laws, and Nine Precepts as their guiding framework, while empowering them to oversee others.

"Let's call it the North Pole Evil Exorcism Altar."

After all, given their position within the Taoist School, calling it an Institute would be too audacious. An "altar" was much more understated, presenting it as merely an internal supervisory body.

In a few days, they would hold a ritual to inaugurate the altar and introduce the members of the Hidden Pulse, masked and disguised under assumed identities.

"Mage, I have an even more comprehensive idea. The specific details require further refinement, and we may also need to recruit more personnel. Perhaps we can strip some of the functions traditionally exclusive to the temples, allowing the temples to focus solely on nurturing talent and administering their territories."

"What do you mean?"

"Besides oversight, we could assign them tasks such as felling demonic mountains, destroying corrupt shrines, and eliminating demons."

The institution's roles would somewhat overlap with certain offices within the Taoist School, but its scope would be narrower, its personnel more specialized—and above all, it would answer only to Song Lin, effectively functioning as a special operations division.

…

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