Chapter Twenty-Four: The Blade Fells the Mountain Fiend

"The people from the Demon Suppression Division are here?" Qian Yuduo narrowed his eyes, continuing to ask, "Wearing the black python robe means they're from the Demon Suppression Division, but even those robes have ranks. How many claws did their python robe have?"

"How many claws?" Luo Yaoyang thought for a moment before recalling, "None."

"No claws?" Captain Qian Yuduo shook his head. "That means he’s one of the new recruits recently taken in by Dongbin City. Just an apprentice demon warden, an insignificant figure. Pay him no mind. Whether he survives and returns is anyone’s guess. After all, that mountain fiend was already the tyrant of the forest, and now that it’s become a demon beast, it’s even harder to deal with."

Thinking of the mountain fiend sent a chill down Qian Yuduo’s spine. The legend of the mountain fiend had been around for ages. Huangxian Village, nestled at the foot of the mountain, once lived off the land. But the mountain fiend’s presence drove the villagers to seek work in Dongbin City. This generation’s fiend had gained sentience, becoming a demon beast—not only hunting those who entered the mountains, but even descending to attack Huangxian Village itself.

In just a few days, more than fifty had died. For survival, the villagers fled, leaving Fairness Town to face the mountain fiend directly. Fairness Town could not afford to fall. If the fiend really descended and entered the town, the thriving prosperity would collapse overnight.

For this reason, Qian Yuduo had no choice but to call on the Demon Suppression Division. The result: only a freshly recruited apprentice had come.

"No lesson without blood," he muttered. "Let the apprentice die; then a real demon warden will come to deal with the mountain fiend. In fact, if he dies, it solves Fairness Town’s immediate crisis." He dared not voice this aloud. After all, the Demon Suppression Division was a mountain among many in the Great Yuan Empire—its wardens' authority even greater than that of a magistrate. Offending them would cost him the captaincy he’d bought at great expense.

This was no ordinary post. As captain of the town constabulary, he received two percent of all profits from the town’s gambling dens, brothels, and opium houses—by Fairness Town’s rules—half of which went directly into his own pocket. Other than the mayor, no one earned more in Fairness Town than Qian Yuduo.

"Captain, Young Master Fu is causing trouble at the opium house again. Mr. Du from the den asked me to tell you—they’ve squeezed every last coin out of him," Luo Yaoyang reported softly.

"Young Master Fu? His father is dead—the Fu family no longer exists."

"Yes, of course. Also, his servant has run away. Word is, Fu Junying tried to sell the man for money to buy more opium."

Qian Yuduo grinned wickedly. "A camel, even dying, is still bigger than a horse. Old Master Fu was once a big figure in Fairness Town, but now his son’s fallen to this—ruined by opium. It ruins lives, but it depends whose hands it’s in."

He swept his eagle-sharp gaze over every constable present. "Let me warn you all: gambling and brothels are entertainment—enjoy as you like. But if I ever learn one of you is using opium, I won’t hesitate to break your legs myself, bind you, and lock you in a cell. If you can quit, good. If not, you’ll rot in there."

Qian Yuduo’s voice was harsh. He knew all too well the poison of the very trade that filled his coffers. He was no good man and didn’t mind losing a few subordinates if necessary. But an addict would fall under another’s control—and that could mean betrayal.

"Captain, we all know how dangerous Fortune Paste is," Luo Yaoyang quickly replied.

"Good man, Luo. As for this Demon Suppression apprentice—if he comes back alive, indulge any request he makes. He won’t stay long in Fairness Town anyway." Qian Yuduo understood well: inviting a god was easy, sending one away was hard. Should a demon warden grow greedy, losing his position would be the least of his troubles; if the man turned wicked, he might lose his life and the town as well.

"Don’t worry, sir. This apprentice looks cold, but he’s soft-hearted—I can tell." Luo Yaoyang sounded pleased with himself. Years in Fairness Town had honed his instincts: speak as required, to man or devil alike.

"They’re coming!"

Baili Feihong’s hair stood on end as a sense of impending doom washed over him. The demon beast had been drawn at last. He did not know exactly what kind of beast it was. Spinning around, he caught a glimpse of a massive, man-shaped shadow leaping across the rooftops of the village—so swift and agile that his eyes could barely follow.

His expression grew grave. The mountain fiend had arrived.

The fiend was a tyrant of the forest. Even a first-blood martial artist would retreat before an ordinary fiend, let alone one that had become a demon. In the wild, such a creature was a nightmare.

But when the mountain fiend gained sentience, it became the most formidable beast of its kind.

It vanished in a single leap.

Suddenly, Baili Feihong sprang backward. A timber beam punched through the mud-brick walls, crashing into the spot where he had just been seated.

Boom!

Two-thirds of the beam buried itself in the earth.

A ghastly wail pierced the air.

The mountain fiend, shrouded in a crimson aura, now stood before Baili Feihong, its claws slashing at his head—a blow heavy as a landslide. If it struck, his skull would surely shatter.

Retreat!

Baili Feihong fell back again and again, dodging the fiend’s wild, seemingly chaotic attacks. Yet each strike was as deadly as the finest martial claw technique—perfect, unstoppable, each blow capable of splintering wood and stone.

Its scarlet eyes blazed with madness. It attacked relentlessly, as if it would not rest until Baili Feihong was torn limb from limb. All the while, he was gathering his strength. Though he seemed to be retreating, every dodge was a hair’s breadth from disaster.

But through years of tempered training, he had honed his confidence and will to a razor’s edge. The fiend’s savage onslaught, overwhelming as it was, nonetheless revealed flaws to his keen eye.

The fiend’s immense power and long arms created a storm of blows, but in the moment when its arms recoiled for another strike, a fleeting gap appeared. This was the opening Baili Feihong waited for—but he did not strike. He was still being suppressed, the perfect moment not yet upon him.

He continued to weave and dodge, using the space created by the fiend’s overreaching arms to maneuver just beyond each monstrous attack. Three m