Chapter 495 - 491: A Grandmaster Demon Appears
Chapter 495: Chapter 491: A Grandmaster Demon Appears
Cyan Cliff Mountain.
This majestic mountain range, located northwest of Qingyang County, was named for its many cyan cliffs.
Its peaks were steep and its forests vast, a place rarely trod by humans.
Morning mist, like a thin veil, wrapped around the mountainside, shrouding the entire range in a hazy mystery.
A figure moved silently through the woods.
He was a thin man of about fifty, dressed in the unique, water-blue Elder Robe of Tingyu Building, its corners embroidered with flowing cloud patterns in gold thread.
His eyes were exceptionally sharp, their light contained within. This was none other than Su Henian, a Second-Grade Elder of Tingyu Building.
His steps were light and soundless, his entire being seeming to melt into the mountain forest.
The aura around him was suppressed to near non-existence, making him indistinguishable from a dead branch or a weathered stone, blending perfectly with the surrounding flora and rocks.
This was Tingyu Building’s secret Top Grade Breath Concealment Technique—the "Formless Art"—which he had mastered to the Realm of Perfection.
Tingyu Building was renowned for its intelligence operations, and as one of its most experienced Elders, Su Henian was famous for his skill in gathering information.
He had been ordered deep into this forest to search for possible hiding places, seeking the Grandmaster Demon that had escaped from the Cloud Mist Mountain Range.
SHH-SHH—
He pushed aside a cluster of shrubs, his gaze falling ahead.
Before him was a hidden valley, surrounded by steep cliffs, its entrance narrow.
The valley was dense with trees and shrouded in a thick mist, exuding an indescribable, bone-chilling cold.
’Something’s not right.’
Su Henian’s eyes narrowed.
This valley was too quiet.
There were no birds chirping, no insects buzzing. Even the sound of the wind seemed to have been devoured by some invisible force.
He had felt this kind of dead silence before, near the lairs of extremely dangerous Demons.
Holding his breath, he pushed his "Formless Art" to its absolute limit. He became like a speck of dust, silently approaching the valley entrance.
After passing through the narrow entrance, the scene before him opened up.
In the valley lay a relatively open clearing, surrounded by towering ancient trees and hanging vines.
Several hundred meters away, in the center of the clearing, a colossal figure was coiled atop a massive green rock.
It was a Demon.
It resembled a black tiger magnified countless times, its body stretching over thirty feet. Lying prone, it looked like a small hill.
Its body was hairless, covered instead in ink-black scales that gleamed with a cold, dark luster in the mist.
Its four legs were as thick as pillars, with sharp claws extended. Each claw was a foot long, dark gold in color, as if forged from some kind of metal.
Its head was massive and its snout broad. Its eyes were closed, as if it were deep in sleep.
On its brow was a single, silver-white, crescent-shaped scale, from which a faint light seemed to flow.
’An Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger.’
At that moment, Su Henian’s breath nearly stopped.
The Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger. According to the Sect’s secret records, this type of Demon was an ancient, exotic species, born with spiritual intelligence.
They were cunning, savage, and possessed an intelligence no less than that of humans.
Their scales were as tough as divine iron, impervious to ordinary weapons.
Even more terrifying, they possessed an innate Talent—the ability to control Low-Tier Demons, birds, and beasts, and command them as their own.
This Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger was very likely the Grandmaster Demon that had escaped from the Cloud Mist Mountain Range.
Back in the Cloud Mist Mountain Range, it was this very creature that had mobilized thousands of Demons to launch a night assault on the Demon Hunting Camp, causing catastrophic casualties.
Later, it had sensed the Seven Sects’ Grandmasters closing in and vanished without a trace.
’I have to get this information back!’
Su Henian suppressed the storm raging in his heart and began to slowly retreat.
His movements were exceedingly light and slow, each step landing precisely on a spot that would make no sound.
He ran his "Formless Art" at full power, suppressing his aura until it was nearly gone.
He was confident that with his Breath Concealment Secret Technique at the Realm of Perfection, even a Grandmaster Demon would not be able to detect him as long as its eyes remained closed.
One step, two steps, three steps—
He was about to exit the valley mouth. The Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger remained coiled on the green rock, its eyes shut tight, seemingly lost in a deep slumber.
He relaxed slightly, preparing to turn and flee.
But at that very moment—
The Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger opened its eyes.
They were a pair of dark golden, slitted pupils—cold, profound, like two bottomless ancient wells.
Reflected in those pupils was the figure of Su Henian, frozen in place.
"Dammit!"
In that instant, it felt as though Su Henian’s heart had stopped beating.
He’d been discovered.
He didn’t understand why his "Formless Art," which had reached the Realm of Perfection, had failed him.
But right now, that question no longer mattered.
’Run.’
Without a moment’s hesitation, he shot backward.
However, the Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger was faster.
The beast didn’t even rise. It simply lifted its right foreclaw and swiped casually through the air.
SHIIING—
Five claw marks, black as ink, tore through the air, their speed surpassing the limits of sight as they crossed several hundred meters in an instant.
Su Henian didn’t even have time to react before an intense pain shot through his body.
He looked down and saw his chest. Five gruesome wounds stretched diagonally from his left shoulder to his right waist, nearly splitting his body in two.
Blood gushed out like a fountain, instantly soaking his Elder Robe.
He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but only a mouthful of fresh blood came out.
The next moment, his body slumped to the ground.
His corpse hit the rot-covered ground with a dull thud.
The light in his once sharp eyes faded quickly, eventually disappearing completely.
Even in death, his eyes held a look of utter disbelief and terror.
Su Henian, Second-Grade Elder of Tingyu Building, was dead.
From the moment the Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger opened its eyes to Su Henian falling, only a single breath’s time had passed.
The Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger retracted its right foreclaw. Its dark golden eyes swept over Su Henian’s body, a faint, human-like flicker of contemplation in their depths.
’This is no place to linger.’
It rose to its feet, stretching its massive body, its bones letting out a series of soft cracks.
It lifted its head and let out a low roar.
ROAR—
The roar wasn’t loud, but it carried a strange, penetrating quality, spreading out in all directions.
A moment later, a rustling sound came from the valley entrance.
Countless birds and beasts swarmed in from all directions—gray rabbits, red foxes, muntjacs, wildcats, sparrows, falcons... A strange obedience filled their eyes as they prostrated themselves before the Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger.
The Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger shook its body, and dozens of ink-black scales detached, floating in the air.
As if receiving a command, the birds and beasts came forward, each taking a scale in its mouth before turning and scattering in different directions.
The Ink-Scaled Demon Tiger watched the creatures disappear deep into the forest, then turned its colossal body and strode off in another direction.
Its pace seemed slow, yet each step carried it dozens of yards away. It soon vanished into the vast mountain forest.
The valley fell silent once more.
Only Su Henian’s body remained, lying silently in a pool of blood, the air thick with its metallic stench.
...
When Fang Han stepped into the Sect Leader’s Hall, Chen Tianyuan was standing before a window with his hands behind his back. He gazed at the distant, rolling mountains, his silhouette exuding a solemn gravity.
"Disciple Fang Han pays his respects to the Sect Leader."
Fang Han took a few steps forward and bowed.
Chen Tianyuan turned around. His gaze fell upon Fang Han, and he gave a slight nod, gesturing for him to take a seat below.
"I’ve summoned you today to inform you of a matter."
Chen Tianyuan’s voice was calm as usual, but it held a certain gravity.
"Traces suspected to be from that Grandmaster Demon have been discovered in Cyan Cliff Mountain."
Fang Han’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Cyan Cliff Mountain, located northwest of Qingyang County. Steep, remote—an ideal hiding place for a Demon.
"The news came from Tingyu Building."
Chen Tianyuan continued.
"A Second-Grade Elder from Tingyu Building was killed in a hidden valley deep within Cyan Cliff Mountain. The culprit is highly likely to be that Grandmaster Demon."
Fang Han was silent.
’A Second-Grade Elder is by no means weak. It’s a pity he ran into a terrifying opponent like a Grandmaster Demon and died at its hands.’
"The Sect would like you to participate in this search. Of course, the mission is dangerous, so whether you participate is entirely up to you."
Chen Tianyuan said, looking at Fang Han.
"This disciple is willing to go."
Fang Han didn’t hesitate.
’A Grandmaster Demon is certainly dangerous, but my perfected "Thousand Mile Soul Lock" has a perception range of a full three miles. From such a distance, it would be difficult for even a Grandmaster Demon to discover me.’
’Besides, I still have the Divine Speed Jade Talisman the Sect gave me as a trump card.’
"That Demon is immensely powerful and exceptionally cunning. Be extremely careful during the search. If you find it, send a signal immediately. Do not, under any circumstances, get close."
Chen Tianyuan nodded slightly, his expression turning solemn again.
"This disciple understands."
Fang Han replied with a cupped-fist salute.
After leaving the Sect Leader’s Hall, the morning light had completely bathed the mountaintop.
Fang Han descended the green stone steps at a steady, unhurried pace.
When he returned to Courtyard 35, Qiu Lan was waiting under the corridor. Seeing Fang Han, she hurried forward to greet him.
"Senior Brother, breakfast is ready."
"Bring it up."
Fang Han nodded, then added,
"Also, prepare some dried rations, fresh water, and two changes of clothes for me. I’ll be away for a few days."
Qiu Lan was slightly taken aback but didn’t ask any questions. She simply bowed and replied, "Yes, Senior Brother."
After breakfast, Qiu Lan had his travel pack ready.
It was a blue cloth parcel containing dried rations, water, two changes of coarse cloth clothes, as well as Celestial Essence Pills for Cultivation and Jade Dew Pills for healing and detoxification.
Fang Han took the parcel, hung the Cloud Splitting Sword at his waist, and pushed the door open to leave.
After leaving the Qingxuan Sect, he followed the main road for a few miles. Once he confirmed no one was around, with a slight thought, the parcel in his hand vanished, stored away in his Storage Ring.
WHOOSH!
Now unburdened, he unleashed his Body Technique and sped toward Cyan Cliff Mountain.
Having reached Minor Achievement in Wind God Step, his speed was astonishing. His figure was like a wisp of invisible wind, flitting silently through the mountain forests.
The scenery on both sides flew backward as the wind howled in his ears.
A day or so later, the silhouette of Cyan Cliff Mountain appeared on the horizon.
The mountain was steep, its slopes covered in vast forests. Morning mist, like a thin veil, wrapped around the mountainside, shrouding the entire range in a hazy mystery.
At the foot of the mountain, in a relatively open clearing, more than a dozen people had already gathered.
Fang Han slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over the figures.
Judging by their attire and auras, they were all Martial Artists, and their Cultivation was not weak. The lowest among them was at the Fourth Grade.
Some were standing, others sitting. Some had their eyes closed in meditation, while others spoke in low voices. A few occasionally glanced toward the depths of the forest, their expressions grave.
Fang Han didn’t recognize most of them. They likely weren’t from the Seven Sects, but rather Tracking experts from within the county hired by the Seven Sects.
Only a few wore the attire of the Seven Sects, identifying them as members.
As Fang Han approached, their gazes turned toward him one by one.
Some looked at him with scrutiny, others with curiosity. A few frowned slightly, seemingly surprised by his youth, as Tracking and searching were tasks that required a great deal of experience.
One gaze, in particular, was especially hostile.
Fang Han turned his head and saw a woman of about fifty staring at him coldly.
The woman was thin, with slightly prominent cheekbones.
Her gray-white hair was casually tied up with a Wooden Hairpin, a few loose strands falling beside her cheeks and fluttering slightly in the mountain breeze.
She wore the distinctive dark-patterned black robe of a Netherworld Pavilion Elder, its corners embroidered with dark flame patterns in gold thread. A Short Sword hung at her waist, its Sword Scabbard old and unremarkable.
It was the Netherworld Pavilion Elder, Luo Qi.