Chapter 24: The Wild Gathering

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A thousand years have passed since the Battle of the Investiture of the Gods. Throughout the war, the demon clans lost countless disciples of the Jie sect. Meanwhile, the human race grew stronger, but given the demon clans’ vast population base, the conflict between the two sides never ceased. Instead, it descended into a relentless tug-of-war, entangling and interweaving their fates continuously.

Whether on the human-dominated Southern Continent or the demon-led Western Continent, the balance remained roughly even. Yet, repeated clashes within a thousand miles of the border stained the entire land with bloodshed and slaughter.

With the rise of the Buddhist kingdom on the far west of the Western Continent, the demons’ territory was further compressed. Their vast numbers now found their living space squeezed to near its limits. As a result, more and more demons broke free from their original constraints to hunt outside in desperate struggle for survival...

Humans and demons fought to the death; friction also brewed among humans themselves. Meanwhile, the demon tribes from the Northern Continent stirred restlessly, and barbaric tribes lurking in the Eastern Continent threatened to erupt at any moment. Perhaps due to a millennium of relative peace, populations of all clans had multiplied, like a volcano’s mouth brimming with molten fury, ready to erupt at any time.

Over the past century, conflicts escalated everywhere. All sides accelerated their infiltration and espionage efforts, while populations migrated and dwindled. Under such conditions, more and more gray zones emerged—chaotic realms where humans, demons, devils, and barbarians coexisted.

In these lands, there was no concept of good or evil—only the proof of one’s strength mattered. Be they human or demon, all sought to demonstrate their right to survive here. Yet, more often than not, many lost their lives in this proving ground, becoming mere prey for the victors.

Hidden within the mountain hollows of Six Chou lies one such wild settlement.

Absent from any human or demon maps, this small town’s buildings were mere low huts built from grass and wood, powered by sorcery and demon energy. Rarely did any structure rise above two stories, let alone pavilions or water terraces. Every building served only the most basic functions: shelter from wind and rain, storage, and habitation. No thought was given to aesthetics or layout.

Thus, the entire settlement existed in chaos yet endured stubbornly, like wild grass and trees—growing simply to live.

Six Chou lingered outside the town for a day before confirming its nature. He had rarely seen such overt coexistence of demons and humans, both coldly tolerating each other, loudly trading, and occasionally drawing blades in conflict. Yet ultimately, reason prevailed, and transactions proceeded.

Humans sold all manner of vessels, weapons, armor, and medicines. Demons offered battle pets, war beasts, herbs, and, in smaller numbers, flesh, organs, and demon cores of other demons. Slaves of various races were traded here too, collars around their necks, bodies naked, even their private parts exposed, paraded openly and sometimes slaughtered as food or for venting anger in plain sight. Others seemed to look the other way.

From a distance, after grasping the town’s survival method, Six Chou’s heart tightened slightly. Instinctively, he gripped his iron rod weapon. Here, he encountered monstrous demons, Qi cultivators, and rangers far stronger than himself. Compared to them, he was no mighty warrior, a realization that unsettled him.

When one cannot be certain that their power suffices for protection, walking feels like treading a razor’s edge—a constant crisis that sharpens vigilance and breeds caution.

Still, he resolved to enter the town, hoping to glean some intelligence about this black zone and perhaps acquire a map of the Western Continent—anything useful.

After some thought, Six Chou revealed his demon form, hiding his golden eyes inside a bottle while slinging his iron rod across his shoulders. He strode boldly toward the town.

Such settlements always hosted powerful figures—human or demon—who maintained basic order, collected fees from trades, purchased goods from refugees, and provided lodging, food, and water for travelers. They then exchanged these goods for what they needed to aid their cultivation.

Approaching the town, Six Chou spotted a returning hunting party comprising humans, devils, and two armored beings wielding shields and longswords. Likely due to a fruitful hunt, all wore faint smiles and chatted amiably, regardless of their race.

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Yet as they neared Six Chou, the entire group cast scrutinizing glances at him, as if appraising his worth as prey. Six Chou had seen such looks in his past life and in every chaotic place—these were not always preludes to attacks but often warnings or measurements, where outcomes hinged solely on strength.

No provocations or tests arose here; life in such places bred caution. Dramatic confrontations rarely erupted unless someone or some demon deemed Six Chou edible, breaking the fragile balance.

Six Chou did not conceal his aura. As a seventh-rank minor demon, he was middle to upper tier here, enough to avoid unnecessary trouble.

The town had no walls or guards; entry and exit were free. Six Chou walked in leisurely. Amid the simple, gray, low buildings, he finally felt immersed. Narrow streets crisscrossed everywhere, with hanging cloth banners bearing signs advertising weapons, armor, herbs, containers, calligraphy, and more. Even gambling dens and brothels existed, though on a far smaller scale than traditional ones: a single table with a cloth for a gambling house, or a booth guarded by an old man with only a cowhide and a woman inside for a brothel.

Six Chou wandered the streets silently. He had seen similar scenes in a base of a certain country in his past life. Here, once you inquired about goods, you’d be pressured to buy. He disliked trouble, especially before completing his tasks, so he preferred to avoid it.

Eventually, Six Chou stopped beneath a cloth banner labeled "Disturbing Soil." Looking around, he saw a dozen tables made of stone, wood, and bamboo. Patrons sat around with teapots, cups, and dishes overflowing with wine and food. Mountains of meat piled high, some tearing with hands, others slicing with knives and cleavers, devouring in large chunks.

Though unfamiliar with the meaning of "Disturbing Soil," Six Chou knew this was a tavern or eatery. Having survived long in the wilderness, while not greedy for food, he welcomed the chance to enjoy a hearty meal and rest.

Moreover, such places often served as intelligence hubs. With no clear leads, he decided to try.

The eatery was sparsely occupied. Six Chou found an empty table, placed his iron rod beside him like the others, and soon a second-rank small demon staggered over, yawning.

“What’ll you have?” it asked.

“One pot of meat, a jug of wine, and if you have fresh fruit, two baskets.”

The demon glanced at Six Chou, then asked, “We have peaches and plums. The peaches arrived days ago and are a bit spoiled. Want them?”

Six Chou nodded. Being omnivorous, monkeys like him could eat both meat and fruit. With memories from his past human life, he maintained a balanced diet, aiming to consume some fruits and vegetables daily. Recently, he mostly ate dried meat in the mountains, so fresh fruit was welcome for later.

The demon yawned and left, returning shortly with a large dining tray piled with quickly sliced, cooked meat—hairless, yellowish like beeswax, smelling faintly of sauce, tender and falling easily from the bones with a slight tug.

The meat was good, and the cooking skill impressive.

Six Chou’s lips twitched as he began tearing and chewing heartily. Even before tasting, he knew it was human meat, but that mattered little. Now a demon able to eat demons, and once human, why not eat humans?

Good meat was good meat.

Chewing deeply, the flavor lingered. Human flesh held far more moisture than beast meat, only snake meat was similar. Cooked soft and tender, enhanced with boiling sauces, it was a hundred times better than bland dried meat—a true treat for his body.

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Alongside came the wine and peaches. As the demon had warned, the peaches were overripe, spotted and blemished. Six Chou sipped the sour, poor-quality wine but set it aside, choosing instead to gnaw on the peaches to accompany the tender meat.

As Six Chou ate, a strong, burly man entered at the door, wielding a large axe at his waist and carrying an ornate brocade box. He glanced around, meeting unhidden gazes from some patrons—humans and demons alike. Some looked away pretending not to notice. His eyes suddenly brightened when they settled on Six Chou and the iron rod by his side, and a broad smile spread across his face.

Without hesitation, the burly man approached Six Chou directly.

Several tables fell silent, faces wearing half-smiles, as if awaiting a performance.

The brocade box was placed on Six Chou’s table. When Six Chou looked up, the man’s smile grew wider.

“Fellow cultivator, a magnificent spirit artifact. Interested in buying?”

“Spirit artifact?” Six Chou smiled faintly and shook his head. “Take it. I don’t want it.”

“Why say that? Even if you don’t want it, take a look…” The man spoke to himself as he flipped open the box, revealing a square object with sharp edges, golden-yellow and translucent, shimmering with an inexplicable glow. Intricate talismans were engraved over its surface, giving it the appearance of a spirit artifact.

Could it be... a golden brick?

Mr. Fu Lu had once mentioned many magical treasures, including golden bricks used in the Battle of the Investiture of the Gods. The wielder was Nezha, who had struck his second brother Muzha, cracked open Huang Feihu’s prison carriage, fought Han Rong, Wen Liang, and even dispersed the entire Qinglong Pass garrison...

But how did such a golden brick end up here—and only as a mere spirit artifact?

Looking closely, Six Chou noticed the brick’s glow was just tung oil polish, not divine radiance. The talismans were chaotic and disorderly. Testing with demon energy, the brick showed no reaction.

A fake, then—only outwardly imitating, unable to hide its true nature inside. How could it escape Six Chou’s eyes?

He shook his head again. “I really don’t want it. Take it away.”

The burly man’s smile finally faded. Suddenly, two more men burst in from outside and flanked him.

His face twitched, eyes savage as if to devour, snarling fiercely:

“You looked, you asked the price—this spirit artifact must be bought!”