Chapter Forty-Two: The Compass Stirs

His bones had hardened. An indescribable lightness suffused his entire being. The strength of his blood and flesh imbued Baili Feihong with a palpable sense of physical power. Now, his bones were firm, and an unending force arose from within them, making his body feel weightless, as if all burdens had vanished; his explosive strength had grown even more formidable.

At last, Baili Feihong understood why the Bone Refinement stage was deemed the true entry to the martial path. Only after tempering the bones could one comprehend what extraordinary power really meant—what it was to break free from a mortal frame and step into the world of martial arts.

Bones give birth to blood, and blood gives rise to force. This abundant vitality brought Baili Feihong benefits he could scarcely imagine. His combat prowess had multiplied several times over compared to the Blood Refinement stage. Moreover, the fifth refinement of his blood nourished his entire skeletal system, causing his bones to mature ceaselessly, striving toward a state of the extraordinary.

His strength increased with every passing moment. To sustain such growth, he needed to eat vast quantities, replenishing his body’s consumption. This voracious appetite signaled an enhanced digestive ability, allowing him to condense and absorb even more energy from the world around him.

Emerging from the training chamber, he found the night deep and still. The Demon Suppression Building was uncommonly quiet. A chill seeped into the very marrow, enveloping the tower, punctuated by strange, eerie cries. In the past, Baili Feihong would not have noticed them. But as his martial cultivation advanced and his potential was awakened, his senses grew keener.

He could now hear the whispers of the demons imprisoned beneath the Demon Suppression Building. Their murmurs grew ever more cacophonous, agitating his heart with inexplicable restlessness. He knew well that these demonic voices carried a seductive power; those with weak minds would surely be bewitched, open the prison gates, and unleash these monsters upon the world.

“I’d love to descend into the dungeons and slaughter every last one of those fiends,” Baili Feihong muttered, licking his lips with a bloodthirsty gleam. The incident at the Outskirts of Great Li Town’s Underworld had left a deep impression on him. It revealed the true nature of this world; for now, all he could do was go with the flow.

As for standing firm in his convictions—what convictions? Slaying demons, earning skill points, and becoming stronger: that was his path.

“To be a Blood Guard, to release one’s blood essence, enveloping a thousand miles—the demons will flee, and those who do not will be burned to death by the blood energy.” Baili Feihong stood before the Demon-Slaying Kun Sword, murmuring to himself.

The path of blood refinement was not yet complete. It was a grueling endeavor, but the more arduous the task, the greater the distinction between himself and other demon suppressors. Inspector Gongyang Yan favored him precisely because he had achieved the fifth refinement of his blood—a distinct advantage.

“Add skill points to my blood, perfect my techniques,” he thought. “Training increases experience, raises my cultivation. Two legs, walking two paths.”

His figure melted into the darkness of the night.

Clutching the Demon-Settling Compass, Baili Feihong now stood at the dock outside the city. The Night Fiend’s trail was elusive. Ding Bo had slain a noble of the Raffen Empire and had already been punished. But the Night Fiend had not died; it had vanished mysteriously.

After learning about the compass’s function, Baili Feihong was amazed. Unless the Night Fiend’s masters possessed artifacts that could counteract the compass, escape from the Demon Suppression Bureau’s pursuit was nearly impossible—especially since the fiend’s demonic blood had been left at the scene and obtained by the Bureau.

“There is a massive Demon-Settling Compass in the Demon Suppression Building. If a demon’s aura reaches a certain intensity, the compass will detect it,” he mused. “The existence of Great Li Town’s Underworld proves my theory best.”

At the river mouth where Binhe met the Eastern Sea, ships passed ceaselessly. “Such a prosperous port,” he marveled. Even at night, laborers toiled in droves. The River Shipping Guild controlled the docks—they were the wealthiest in Dongbin City, and the city itself was only one of their many strongholds.

The case files on the Night Fiend hinted at the guild’s complex background. Having lived by the docks for years, Baili Feihong understood the guild’s immense power. The rivers branched in all directions, connecting to every waterway within the Great Yuan Empire. In their grasp, the river trade made them a colossus.

But the guild’s strength lay not in martial prowess, but in influence, control, and wealth. Without powerful backing, they would have been torn apart long ago.

“Are there truly no demons lurking among the rabble at the docks?” he wondered, as the compass detected nothing unusual.

At that moment, the compass needle spun wildly—finally pointing toward Fairness Town.

Baili Feihong’s brow arched. A winding river branched off from the main waterway, snaking secretly into Fairness Town, its course hidden in the mountains, seldom patrolled by the local constables.

“Opium?” he thought. “Is it connected to the River Shipping Guild?”

The mere mention of the drug infuriated him. The constables’ inaction was outrageous, yet the Demon Suppression Bureau did not intervene in local affairs—unless demons were involved.

A cold light flashed in his eyes. The compass was moving.

And he, as a Grade D Demon Suppressor, had the authority to act.

“Fairness Town—this cancer—I can eliminate it under the pretext of eradicating demons,” he said grimly.

He cast a final glance at the docks. The guild’s leader, Zhang Fu, was manipulating demons—an act surely tied to the River Shipping Guild.

Baili Feihong broke into a run. He had never learned movement techniques—an undeniable disadvantage.

“I still have one Grade D merit point; perhaps I should exchange it for a movement technique,” he considered. Or he could devise his own, though the cost would be steep.

After sprinting dozens of miles, he at last beheld Fairness Town once more. Its prosperity outshone even the busiest streets of Dongbin City. At night, the entertainment industry’s true face was revealed; a haze of smoke hung in the air, its pungent stench making Baili Feihong recoil in disgust. The very atmosphere was saturated with the smell of opium.

Amid the quiet night, the town’s raucous laughter drifted up. The compass spun furiously, but the townsfolk remained oblivious to the impending danger.

“So demons truly have descended!” Baili Feihong drew a deep breath and glanced at his skill points. 1,298! That was his confidence. Having mastered the Six Paths of Demon Suppression, he could invest skill points at any moment to elevate his cultivation to formidable heights—at least second only to the Inspector in Dongbin City.

Meanwhile, at the Fu family estate, “At last, the ancestral land is mine,” Qian Youduo exclaimed excitedly. Years ago, Old Master Fu had buried his ancestors on Dali Mountain and unearthed a strange treasure, which he brought back home. From then on, fortune smiled upon him. In just a few decades, he built a fleet, traversed the Devil’s Sea, and traded with a hundred overseas kingdoms. His wealth could fill carts.

But in his twilight years, the fleet was attacked by the Raffen Empire and lost in the Devil’s Strait, leaving Old Master Fu bedridden. Thus the family’s fortunes waned.

Even so, the remaining riches should have allowed Fu Junying—a sole descendant—to enjoy ten lifetimes of luxury. Yet, his addiction to opium drained every coin into the hands of Fairness Town’s wealthy merchants.