Chapter 63: Massacre

When Li Hao spoke, the Spirit Beasts froze for a moment—then burst into laughter.

Though they sensed something odd about him, unlike an ordinary Demon Suppression Officer, age was on his side. Even if he were a prodigy of the highest caliber, how formidable could he possibly be?

Here, there were over twenty Shape-Transformation Great Demons. In the Spirit Beast race, only those in the Divine Travel Realm could achieve Shape Transformation—yet the Fifteen Li Stage was already sufficient to fully transform, concealing their entire Spirit Beast form without a trace.

“Little brat,” the serpentine female Spirit Beast giggled, “did you lose your mind from fear? Even Yue Shuhong, that old goat, wouldn’t dare speak to us like this!”

“Then,” Li Hao asked again, voice calm, “who is the Tiger-Robe Immortal?”

The female Spirit Beast bristled at being ignored. A flicker of irritation flashed in her eyes. She flicked her forked tongue, about to advance—when the massive bear suddenly spoke, his voice unexpectedly calm.

“What business do you have with the Tiger-Robe?”

“Nothing much,” Li Hao said, casually tossing a blade from his sleeve. “Just borrowing its head to honor my uncle’s Heroic Soul.”

The bear sighed inwardly, realizing his caution had been unnecessary. He’d thought Li Hao was here to deliver a message. Dismissing him with a wave, he muttered, “Eat him.”

It was meant for the others.

The serpentine female lunged forward at lightning speed, her smile blooming like a venomous flower. “Come on, be a good boy—just crawl right in.”

Her maw stretched wide, tearing open into a blood-red gape, her face distorting under the strain. Her Demon Qi surged, a seductive enchantment that could unravel even a Continuation of Soul Realm cultivator—driving them into madness, forcing them to submit.

But at that moment, a Black Light Flash cut through the air.

Half her mouth was torn clean off, flung backward like a rag in the wind. The cut was perfect—clean and precise.

Blood erupted in a geyser, splattering across the ground.

The mockery in the other Spirit Beasts’ eyes froze. The hunched, emaciated old man who’d been leaping toward Li Hao halted mid-step, staring at the boy in disbelief.

The Demon-Slaying Blade was gone.

In its place, a dark, obsidian blade hovered in midair—then shot forward like a shadow, a streak of pure darkness.

It arced through the air, slicing through the necks of several Great Demons in a single motion. Not a single one had time to react.

The sudden slaughter was beyond comprehension.

“Since you won’t speak,” Li Hao murmured, “then I’ll just kill you all. A sacrificial altar will do.”

As he spoke, the blade in midair did not stop. It surged forward again—faster than thought.

“Fifteen Li Stage!”

“What… what kind of monster is this?!”

The Spirit Beasts snapped awake in terror, scattering in panic, trying to flee the blade—but their speed was nothing compared to the Demon-Slaying Blade’s.

Forty Li Object Manipulation wasn’t just 2.5 times faster than Fifteen Li—it was a complete overwhelming dominance in power and velocity.

Like throwing a stone twenty meters versus one thrown a hundred: the difference in strength was undeniable.

And they hadn’t even reached the Fifteen Li Stage. They couldn’t yet fly. Already, some Great Demons had abandoned their flesh, sacrificing their bodies to flee with their Spirit Souls intact—so long as their souls survived, they could possess new bodies later.

The bear seated on the throne shifted. Its expression darkened. It stood up abruptly, its massive frame towering like a small house. It fixed its gaze on Li Hao, as if trying to pierce through his true form.

Fifteen Li Stage? How old was this boy?!

It would not allow its subordinates to be slaughtered further. With a roar, it unleashed a black flame from its mouth—a dark fire dragon coiled in midair, lunging at Li Hao with fangs bared. It too was of the Fifteen Li Stage.

Li Hao glanced up. He’d already noticed this bear’s aura was the strongest—but even so, to him, it was no different from a Divine Travel Realm cultivator.

Swoosh!

Soul Force surged through the blade. It split the fire dragon in two, then struck the bear’s head with a thunderous blow.

But the bear’s skull was impossibly thick. The blade only sank half a foot before jamming—refusing to go deeper.

Li Hao stepped forward. In a flash, he vanished—reappearing instantly before the wounded bear, who stared in horror.

With a single punch, Li Hao drove his fist into the bear’s face.

Power exceeding millions of jin surged into the strike. The force of that blow wasn’t just physical—it was apocalyptic, amplified by Object Manipulation. The bear’s entire body was flung backward, smashing into the stone wall behind it with a deafening crash. The stone shattered, and the bear was hurled over ten meters, crashing into the side of its cave.

Blood gushed from its throat. The bear was terrified. Born with god-like strength, it had sealed itself as the True God of Great Strength.

Yet this boy—this fragile, mortal body—had unleashed power that felt inhumanly terrifying.

How could such a small flesh-and-blood frame possess such ruthless strength?!

Li Hao spared it a glance, then raised his hand. The Demon-Slaying Blade, still lodged in the bear’s skull, was yanked free. With a flick of his eyes, the blade shot through the air like a Black Light.

The fleeing Spirit Souls—already beyond a few li, fading into the distance—were caught mid-flight.

The blade alone couldn’t harm them, but it carried Li Hao’s Soul Force. And that was enough to split their souls in two.

Screams echoed from all directions—some cut short, collapsing mid-cry.

The once-terrifying mountain, teeming with over twenty Great Demons, now stood empty—except for the bear.

The others were either decapitated, their bodies limp and lifeless, or their souls scattered and gone, dissolving into the wind.

A gentle breeze swept through the forest, carrying the thick, cloying scent of blood into the bear’s nostrils. It choked.

For the first time, the bear felt the stench of its own mountain—the air reeking of death. Its stomach twisted. A wave of nausea rose, threatening to burst forth.

Fear. Pure, overwhelming fear.

“You… you’re the Celestial Human Sect Master?!” The bear stammered, eyes wide with dread. One exchange—just one punch—and it knew: even at the Fifteen Li Stage, it was no match for this boy.

The gap was unimaginable.

It began to suspect: this boy must be a Master who’d returned to youth.

“Among the Spirit Beasts I just killed,” Li Hao asked, stepping slowly toward the bear, stopping just before it, “was there a Tiger-Robe Immortal?”

The bear, trembling, could no longer deny it. It had been the Tiger-Robe that had drawn this wrath.

“Tiger-Robe…” It clenched its teeth. A thought flashed through its mind. “It’s not here. It’s in the north.”

“The north?” Li Hao raised an eyebrow, eyeing the bear skeptically. “You have many other Spirit Beasts outside. I suggest you don’t lie.”

The bear’s face paled. “I swear—Tiger-Robe is not here. Though it belongs to our Black Wind Mountain Range, it’s clever and capable. We sent it north.”

“Why north?”

“To join forces with the northern clans,” the bear panted. “We plan to conquer Cangyu City. It was sent to assist.”

It kept the Chimei Daoist’s identity hidden.

Northern Spirit Beasts? Li Hao froze.

The Demon-Subduing Bureau’s intelligence had recorded nothing of the north—only silence. Peace.

“How many Spirit Beasts are there in the north?” Li Hao pressed.

“About the same as here.”

“Why attack Cangyu City?” he demanded. “You know what happens when you defy Emperor Yu!”

The bear sighed inwardly. You Slaying Demons people do the same—target the weak. Who knew Cangyu City would have a monster like this?

It didn’t say that aloud. Instead, it forced a look of desperation. “We’re just… trying to survive. Like your people eat livestock. We do the same.”

Li Hao’s eyes turned cold.

The word “eat” stirred something deep within him—a surge of killing intent.

“Just for food?” he said, forcing his voice calm, eyes locked on the bear. He wanted answers.

The bear felt the chill of Li Hao’s gaze. Its heart trembled. It tried to mimic human logic—when weak, appeal to reason.

“Everything in the world exists to survive,” it said, as if reciting a scholar’s doctrine. “We do. You do. That’s not wrong, is it?”

“Who cares about right or wrong?” Li Hao snapped, fury barely contained. “I only ask: did you attack Cangyu City for food?”

The bear hesitated. It knew other reasons—Chimei Daoist’s plans, hidden motives—but now, it wouldn’t reveal them. Not if it wanted to keep the illusion of reason.

“If we weren’t driven by survival,” it said, “we wouldn’t risk this.”

It even adopted the tone of a Confucian scholar, arguing philosophy: “Heaven and Earth nurture all things. All beings have the right to live, don’t they?”

Li Hao took a deep breath.

Then, slowly: “What does the Tiger-Robe look like? Is it a tiger Spirit Beast?”

The bear blinked, stunned. This human wasn’t listening at all. Panic stirred in its chest.

“Yes… yes, it’s a tiger Spirit Beast. Nearly a thousand years in cultivation.”

“Good.”

Li Hao nodded—just once.

Before the bear could react, he leapt.

A single punch—fierce, brutal—slammed into the bear’s forehead.

The force shattered its brain. The bear’s mouth opened in shock, eyes wide with disbelief. Then, slowly, they dulled.

It collapsed like a boulder, crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.

Discussing right and wrong with monsters?

Li Hao didn’t have time for that.

When the truth was clear—when the ground was littered with white bone skeletons, the air thick with blood and death—how could he say, “You’re right”?

No.

Fuck your morality.

I’m human.

And that’s all that matters.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end