Chapter Nineteen: A Man Must Vanquish Demons

Baili Feihong held his head high and his chest out, gripping the Blood Sea Saber tightly as he strode resolutely toward the beast cage.

Bloodstains covered the floor, with shattered bones and mangled flesh scattered everywhere.

Only upon stepping into the cage did he truly realize the harshness of the environment the martial artists faced.

The nauseating stench of blood that assaulted his senses was nothing compared to the invisible spiritual oppression that came from all directions—the vile, malevolent gazes fixed upon him. Under such scrutiny, Baili Feihong understood what it meant to be in a demonic hell.

The audience for these cage battles was neither the people of the Demon Suppression Bureau nor the martial artists participating in the selection.

It was the imprisoned monsters and demons that watched from the shadows.

Under the watchful eyes of these evil creatures, a bizarre, indescribable atmosphere shrouded the entire arena.

He could sense his will being challenged, an urge welling up from the depths of his heart—a wild cry:

Slay the demon beast!

Decide it all in one stroke.

Enter the Demon Suppression Bureau, and from then on, enjoy the privileges of an official position.

Become a person above all others.

Such were the subconscious desires buried deep within Baili Feihong, now rising with unprecedented clarity in his mind. The goal stood before him, distinct and unwavering.

“Has the background of Baili Feihong been thoroughly investigated?” Gongyang Yan suddenly inquired.

It was her first time asking about the information of a Demon Suppression Bureau apprentice candidate.

She had seen this young man before, though she couldn't recall immediately. With her nearly photographic memory, it was extraordinary not to remember someone she had met.

“Director, Baili Feihong is an orphan residing in the slums. According to information from the Constabulary, he worked as a dock laborer. His house was destroyed, and he received compensation paid by our Bureau. A month ago, he studied martial arts at the Four Seas Martial Hall,” reported the Left Deputy Director.

Within mere hours, they had gathered complete information on all qualified candidates.

“Rapid progress in cultivation,” Gongyang Yan commented coolly.

A dockworker and a student of the Four Seas Martial Hall—at first glance, there seemed no connection, but together they made Baili Feihong a suspect pursued by the Constabulary.

He could not shake off suspicion in the death of Lady Zhang, wife of the Canal Guild's chief.

Gongyang Yan found herself deeply intrigued by this eighteen-year-old youth.

In her eyes, Baili Feihong’s life had been plain and predictable.

Yet in just one month, he had cultivated his martial skills to the level of a Five Blood martial artist.

Qi and blood were things built up over time, and to refine five flows of blood energy in such a short period was exceedingly difficult.

Of all the people she had encountered, Baili Feihong seemed the least likely to accomplish such a feat.

“Do not disappoint me in the cage battle,” Gongyang Yan murmured, her gaze settling on the saber in Baili Feihong’s hand.

Though the blade remained sheathed, the shape alone suggested its lethal potential—a weapon made for the art of the saber.

Red mist billowed as the demon beast appeared on stage.

When the haze cleared, the beast’s true form was revealed.

A white tiger.

Its entire body exuded a black aura, eyes crimson as rubies, fixed upon Baili Feihong.

A roar thundered—the kind that should have shaken the mountains and forests.

Yet here in the cage, it was a king among tigers reduced to a trapped beast.

The monstrous tiger stood over ten feet tall and thirty feet long, its massive frame taking up a tenth of the cage’s space.

In front of it, Baili Feihong was as insignificant as a tree stump.

What the beast did not know was that the martial artist before it felt no fear—instead, a surge of exhilaration.

“Skill Tome, upgrade Blood River Saber Technique to Mastery.”

In an instant, before the thought had even formed, comprehension flooded his mind.

All the mysteries of the Blood Sea Saber Technique that had eluded him were suddenly resolved.

Simultaneously, a powerful surge of Blood River energy coursed through his body.

“Kill!”

With the tiger’s roar, Baili Feihong drew his saber and slashed at the beast like a thunderbolt.

“Mighty river surging, blood energy blazing.”

His blood energy flowed from hilt to tip, suffusing the entire blade.

The black-and-white saber, now wreathed in sanguine aura, radiated menace.

He unleashed the strongest move of the Blood River Saber Technique.

It was as if a great river encircled him, his blood energy transformed into a vast ocean, all concentrated within his blade.

His entire body was wrapped in a mantle of blood-flame energy.

The giant tiger lunged.

Baili Feihong’s saber energy condensed to the utmost limit; the Blood River stance reached its peak. In a flash, he swung the blade, and saber force slashed through the cage.

His form blurred, leaving more than a dozen deep wounds upon the tiger’s body.

The white tiger’s strength was equivalent to that of a Five Blood martial artist.

Yet in an instant, it was grievously wounded by Baili Feihong.

Now, even standing was a struggle. Its limbs were torn, blood pouring, white bone exposed.

“Blood River Saber Technique, First Form—Blood River Slash.”

With a leap, Baili Feihong brought the half-meter-long blade down in a sweeping arc, like a blood river in reverse, cleaving diagonally.

A faint sound.

The tiger’s head fell to the ground.

There was no back-and-forth, no testing the waters; every strike was a killing blow.

It was kill or be killed.

Decisive and clean—life and death decided in two moves.

“A fine blade,” Zheng Yishan praised.

“This young man is promising. Train him well,” Gongyang Yan said with satisfaction.

Baili Feihong’s face remained calm as he sheathed his saber.

He took the opportunity to glance at his Skill Tome.

Slaying the white tiger demon beast had earned him two skill points.

Counting the other beasts slain by the martial artists, he had accumulated seven points.

He could gain skill points even when others killed demon beasts.

“Yes, Director,” replied Iron Wuya, the Right Deputy Director, whose eyes had never left Baili Feihong.

Though Baili Feihong’s talent rating was unimpressive, it did not stop Iron Wuya from believing in his future.

His actions were decisive, his saber techniques skillful—none of the recklessness of youth, but rather the poise of a veteran.

It was as if he had practiced the saber for decades.

Especially impressive was his insight into the Bureau’s cage battle tactics.

Breaking through on the spot, he achieved the level of Six Blood martial artist.

At such a rank, he could open a martial hall on Prosperity Street in Dongbin City.

Baili Feihong exited the beast cage and let out a breath, his overly tense muscles finally relaxing, leaving him slightly fatigued.

The physical exhaustion was secondary; the true pressure came from the demons lurking around the dungeon.

It was the intangible mental oppression that drove him to slay the white tiger under such weight.

Demons and demon beasts were two different things entirely.

Fortunately, this beast had not yet transcended its form, nor shed its animal body.

It was merely a beast king corrupted by demonic energy, and even freed, it could not leave its beastly shell.

“Baili Feihong, this is your reward. Here are two sets of uniforms for the Demon Suppression Bureau. This is your identification token—don’t lose it. Without it, you won’t get far in the Bureau’s headquarters.”

At last, a faint smile appeared on Baili Feihong’s lips.

He had received what was rightfully his.

Finally, he had joined the Demon Suppression Bureau.

But Baili Feihong did not leave the dungeon; instead, he stayed to observe.

The number of skill points he could acquire depended on how many demon beasts the martial artists could slay.