Chapter 64: Mourning

After dispatching the bear Spirit Beast, Li Hao noticed movement within a nearby cave. When he sent out his Spirit Soul to investigate, he found seven survivors—men and women in their twenties and thirties, ragged and worn, all without children or elders among them. Their hands and feet were shackled with iron chains, the other ends threaded through a narrow fissure in a massive stone. Unless the stone itself was moved, they were trapped for good.

They looked utterly hollow—faces etched with terror, some frozen in stupor, their eyes vacant. Li Hao sighed inwardly. With a flick of his will, he shattered the stone with a surge of spiritual force, freeing them.

But the chains were gone. Yet something else still bound them—something invisible, yet unmistakable.

After a moment of stunned silence, the survivors merely stared blankly around them, not moving, not fleeing. One man suddenly seemed to remember something, his body trembling uncontrollably. He collapsed to the ground, scrambling to grab the broken chain fragments, then frantically wrapped them around his own limbs, whispering over and over:

"Please don’t eat me… don’t eat me…"

Utterly broken.

Li Hao remained silent. He wasn’t good at comforting people. Instead, he gave them time—time to awaken, time to recover. In the meantime, he set about cleaning up the aftermath.

With a casual gesture of spiritual manipulation, he gathered the Spirit Beast corpses into a neat pile, stacking them into a towering altar, precise and orderly.

"Lin Shu, disciple is weak, but I can only offer these Spirit Beasts as tribute to your Heroic Soul," Li Hao murmured.

He turned, drawing out a wine gourd from behind his back. With a twist of the stopper, he poured the liquor onto the altar before the sea of corpses, drenched in blood.

Before him lay a battlefield of death—but in his mind, he saw the courtyard bathed in golden twilight.

The night the man had sung war songs, wine in hand.

The afternoon he’d lowered his head in sorrow, unable to absorb the Foundation Establishment Elixir.

That autumn, when leaves fell onto the Go board, and they laughed and bickered over their game.

Li Hao shook the gourd. Only one last sip remained. He raised it, tilted his head back, and whispered,

"Lin Shu… Cheers."

Then he tucked the gourd away, turned, and hefted the Demon-Slaying Blade, stepping into the forest beyond.

Within this hundred-mile-long mountain range, tens of thousands of Spirit Beasts roamed. Even here at the foot of the mountain, tens of thousands had gathered.

Whoosh!

Li Hao stood atop a leaf, his Spirit Soul bursting from his cranial apex. He rode the blade through the green sea of trees, a black streak cutting through the forest like a needle through cloth.

One by one, the Spirit Beasts—crouching, sleeping, foraging, playing—were severed by a single sweep of black light.

The blade moved faster than sight, slicing through flesh and bone.

When the beasts sensed danger, they fled in panic—but the black light was quicker.

Ordinary Fifteen Li Stage cultivators couldn’t have done this so easily. But Li Hao’s spiritual manipulation was far beyond that level—his range, his speed—multiple times greater. And he hadn’t even activated any special techniques.

The thousands of Spirit Beasts at the mountain’s base were terrified beyond reason. They fled blindly, some racing uphill, hoping to reach their king. But they never made it—heads severed mid-stride.

The entire mountain trembled, as if struck by an earthquake.

Within mere miles, every last one was cut down.

Blood stained the underbrush, soaked into the earth—rivulets flowing down the mountain’s wrinkles, gathering into rivers of red, weeping across the land.

His Spirit Soul returned. The blade, now slightly curled at the edge, settled into his grip.

Thousands slain. The blade’s edge dulled.

Had it not been for his Spirit Soul’s protection, the blade would have snapped long ago. Even so, it had pierced the toughest of flesh—proof of its power.

But Li Hao didn’t stop. Still clutching the battered black blade, he leapt forward, vanishing into the distance, chasing after a few remaining Spirit Beasts that had yet to sense the carnage.

They were still unaware.

So be it.

Then let them be erased too.

…

…

"Sure enough—Spirit Beasts have gathered!"

High above the Black Wind Mountain Range, a faint golden light flickered through the clouds, invisible to the naked eye—Song Yueyao’s Spirit Soul, gliding silently through the mist.

Her physical body moved along the mountain’s edge, stealthy and cautious, while her Spirit Soul soared above, scanning the entire range.

So far, she had seen many signs—scattered traces of Spirit Beasts. Near the city, they were few, weak, barely more than minor demons, barely sentient. A few archers with bows might scare them off.

But as she ventured deeper, the air thickened with misty Demon Qi, spreading like a fog. The density of the beasts grew—so dense, it was almost suffocating.

"Verdict confirmed," she muttered, frowning. "There’s no doubt—Spirit Beasts are gathering here, and in massive numbers."

But then a thought struck her.

Why hasn’t the Yue City Guardian reported this with confidence? Why hasn’t he called upon the Xia Family for aid?

She couldn’t understand.

Was the Yue City Guardian afraid of a sudden uprising?

Or was there ill will between him and the Xia Family?

But if Cangyu City fell, the people would suffer. Both the Yue City Guardian and the Xia Family would be held accountable.

Something was wrong.

The situation felt… complicated.

As she pressed on, she soon reached the heart of the Black Wind Mountain Range.

Along the way, she evaded a few Continuation of Soul Realm Spirit Beasts—mere patrols, easily avoided. No trace of her presence.

Then—suddenly—a stench of blood swept through the air.

Song Yueyao froze. Her steps halted. She extended her Spirit Soul, probing forward with caution.

What she saw next made her blood run cold.

The forest floor was a river of blood. Every stream, every spring—drenched in crimson. Corpses of Spirit Beasts littered the ground.

She had assumed the stench came from a massacre—Spirit Beasts devouring human captives.

But no.

This was their blood.

She stood frozen.

What in the world happened here?

After a pause, she urged her Spirit Soul forward, moving in silence, concealment aura wrapped tight.

She reached a cluster of corpses—quickly examined them.

All wounds were fresh. Death had occurred less than an hour ago.

Someone was slaying demons.

Her heart thudded.

Could it be another Supervising Inspector from the Demon-Subduing Bureau?

Cangyu City’s Bureau had only one such official—Divine Travel Realm, guarding the frontier city alongside the Yue City Guardian.

And Song Yueyao herself was a temporary recruit—no permanent post.

If someone else had come—someone capable of this—then perhaps they could help.

She urged her Spirit Soul forward, hoping to meet the figure.

But as she pressed deeper, her expression darkened.

More corpses. Everywhere.

Thick, endless, piled high.

Her Spirit Soul swept across the land—tens of thousands, at least.

The density was nothing short of a miniature demon tide.

Yet… all were dead.

Only a Great Demon could command such a force.

Then… where was the Great Demon?

She hadn’t fought the Supervising Inspector—but even she, with her own strength, would have struggled to do this. She lacked the courage, the resolve.

As she continued, the corpses grew even more numerous.

Among them were massive beasts—some on the verge of Shape Transformation, their forms shifting toward Divine Travel Realm.

Yet every single one—dead.

And the wounds—consistent.

All pierced through the vital core by a blade of extreme sharpness.

Soon, she reached a towering mountain.

From afar, she could see a swirling, cloud-like mass of Demon Qi at its peak—thick, violent, unnatural.

Such power… only a Great Demon could generate it.

And judging by the variety of colors in the Demon Qi, there were multiple Great Demons.

Her breath caught.

A wave of fear surged through her—she wanted to turn and flee.

But the sight below—thousands upon thousands of dead bodies, the silence on the mountain, the unnatural stillness—forced a single, unthinkable thought into her mind.

She forced herself to move.

With trembling will, she urged her Spirit Soul upward, concealing herself in a veil of stealth, peering down into the cloud of Demon Qi atop the peak.

And then—she froze.

Before her stood a platform of flesh—constructed from over twenty Great Demon corpses, stacked in perfect order.

A wind stirred.

And in the hollows of their frozen eyes—still visible—remained the final expressions of terror, the last moments of their lives.

Song Yueyao stood paralyzed.

Her breath stopped.

She could not speak.

More Great Demons than she’d expected.

And yet—all dead.

These were Divine Travel Realm Great Demons.

Who… could have killed them all?

The Supervising Inspector?

Impossible. He was only Divine Travel Realm himself.

To do this—only a Fifteen Li Stage powerhouse could manage it.

Was it a general sent by the Xia Family?

Or perhaps a passing master from a Clan Sect?

She snapped back to reality—then noticed something.

From a cave at the summit, three figures slowly emerged.

Human.

Disheveled.

Clearly survivors.

She moved instantly, leaping toward the peak.

"Are you all captives of the Spirit Beasts?" she asked, voice sharp with urgency.

She expected relief.

She expected gratitude.

Instead—upon seeing her Demon-Suppression Uniform, their bodies jolted.

They trembled.

Their eyes widened—filled with the same terror they’d have for a demon.

"Please… don’t take us!"

"Mercy, sir! Please let us go!"

One collapsed to his knees, sobbing, pounding his head against the ground.

Song Yueyao stared, stunned.

Her mind blank for a moment.

Then—anger flared.

"What are you talking about? I’m the Supervising Inspector of the Demon-Subduing Bureau! I’ve come to save you!"

"Mercy, sir! Mercy!"

They kept begging, pleading, their voices breaking.

She stood there, speechless.

Had they been driven mad by the beasts?

If so, she wouldn’t get anything useful from them.

But then—she noticed something.

The Great Demons had died very recently.

The blood was still fresh.

She turned away, ignoring the survivors.

With a sharp command, she sent her Spirit Soul racing across the terrain.

Moments later, she found a trail—blood seeping from corpse to corpse, winding through the forest.

She followed it.

Soon, she leapt onto a tree branch—and stopped.

Before her—on a clearing in the forest—lay a field of corpses.

All ape spirits. A whole clan.

Now all dead.

Blood pooled on the ground, forming a crimson lake.

And at the center—stood a boy.

Dressed in the plain, dark robe of a Demon-Suppression Officer from the Bureau.

In his hand—a broken, rusted Demon-Slaying Blade.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end