Chapter Eleven: Vines

“As expected, people from the Demon Purification Bureau are just unreliable.”

Shen Chang’an gripped Zheng Xin tightly, his steps swift as the wind, and dashed out without hesitation.

“I heard from my father that those from the Demon Purification Bureau are iron-blooded and ruthless in their work. But now, it seems they’re… kind of weak?” Zheng Xin, though held by Shen Chang’an, didn’t struggle much. She knew she couldn’t match his speed, and with his great strength, their escape would be even quicker if she let him take the lead.

Wang Yue, on the other hand, wasn’t afforded this courtesy. Shen Chang’an was wary that the fellow might stab him in the back if kept too close, so he simply left him to his own devices.

Yet Wang Yue darted along with remarkable speed, two talismanic “armor-horse” papers glowing beneath his feet—clearly, he was more than capable of looking after himself.

Though every member of the Demon Purification Bureau possessed different skills, their basic equipment was more or less the same. Especially those armor-horse talismans: they were abundant, and no one knew how many the Bureau had supplied.

Behind them, a massive vine crashed forward with unstoppable force, shattering every house along its path. Though it had no eyes, it somehow locked onto Shen Chang’an and the others, pursuing them with uncanny precision.

“Miss, could you go on your own for a bit?” Shen Chang’an asked as he ran at full tilt.

Zheng Xin raised an eyebrow and replied, “Do you want to wrestle that vine?”

Shen Chang’an shook his head. “That vine must be incredibly strong. Even if I win in a contest of strength, it doesn’t mean much. My plan is to leap onto it and try to break it directly.”

“That vine is as thick as a tree trunk. Can you really break it?”

“We’ll only know if we try,” Shen Chang’an answered, nodding.

“In that case, just put me down. My speed might not be as high as yours, but my lightness skill is far superior.” In terms of raw strength, Shen Chang’an outran Zheng Xin, but when it came to movement arts, he was far inferior.

He swiftly reached a tree, set Zheng Xin down, then sprang high into the air, aiming himself straight for the vine.

He landed squarely on its back just as it crashed past. “Ha! Just as I thought. You, eyeless creature, sense us by vibrations through the ground.”

The moment he set Zheng Xin down, the thing charged straight at her, but when Shen Chang’an leapt high, it lost all track of him—it simply couldn’t “see” him in the air.

Shen Chang’an dropped down, his staff already swinging with overwhelming force. If that blow landed, not even a tree, but three or four trees bound together, would be smashed to smithereens.

But before his staff connected, the vine suddenly bulged and flung him off with a tremendous snap.

“What the—? It can do that?” Shen Chang’an was stunned. He had immense power, yes, but he weighed maybe a little over a hundred pounds. Standing atop the vine, he was nothing to it; it flicked him off effortlessly.

He’d never faced such a heavyweight monster before; the biggest he’d seen were hulking mountain fiends. But something as massive as this vine was new territory.

Just like that, he was tossed aside—without a foothold, he had no way to attack. His usual trick of flinging stones was useless; even if a stone pierced the vine, it would only leave a tiny hole, or shatter outright, unlikely to reach the interior.

“Priest, do you have any ideas?” Zheng Xin’s voice called from afar, and Shen Chang’an saw more vines sprouting from the earth, chasing her. Good grief, their numbers were growing by the moment.

The villagers who’d seemed obstacles before had vanished—whether they’d escaped or been crushed beneath the vines, he couldn’t say.

Shen Chang’an considered his options. He had plenty of talismans, but none seemed effective against a monster of this size. The art of talismans was vast, and some were indeed designed for giant foes, but he was no expert—he only knew the basics from books. Anything beyond that was simply beyond him.

And transforming matter on such a scale—growing things to such size—was an art that would take years for him to master.

“Damn it. Maybe I should just call on the Azure Sword and end this with one strike.” With the Azure Sword, it wouldn’t matter whether he found a weak spot or not; even from ten meters away, a single sword wave would cut the vine down.

But he’d only managed to draw that talisman once before, purely by luck. If he used it here, he’d have nothing left for Fangcheng.

If he couldn’t defeat the vine, it would be one thing—but knowing he could, he was loath to waste the Azure Sword. If he used it now, he’d be defenseless against any stronger demon that appeared later.

As he mulled over his options, he caught sight of Wang Yue darting by, a repeating crossbow in his hands. He was firing at the vines, but the bolts, though they penetrated the outer layer, only sank about an inch before becoming stuck.

“Hmm… with this thing…” Shen Chang’an sized up the crossbow. It seemed… perhaps he could affix a talisman to it.

He rushed over to Wang Yue and held out his hand. “Hand it over!”

“Huh? Hand over what?”

“That thing in your hand!” Shen Chang’an pointed.

“This? I can’t… Crossbows like this are regulated by imperial law. You’re not with the Demon Purification Bureau—you can’t—”

“Cut the nonsense. Do you want to live or not? If you do, give it here!”

Wang Yue glanced at Shen Chang’an, then at the rapidly advancing vines behind him. With a helpless sigh, he surrendered the crossbow.

Shen Chang’an took it, pulled out a talisman, and tried to attach it. But the talisman was a bit too large—it wouldn’t fit inside. What’s more, the crossbow bore traces of the Bureau’s own magic, subtly repelling his talisman.

“Quartermaster, what’s this made of? Why can’t I enchant it?”

Wang Yue didn’t understand the term “enchant,” but he replied honestly, “The crossbow’s been blessed by the Daoist sects. Ordinary talismans don’t work on it.”

“Well, that’s just great…”