Chapter 61

Jiao Feng let out a long breath, openly revealing the disgust in its eyes.

Prolonged running had caused its dark red, scabbed wounds to begin cracking again.

Its youthful features slightly wrinkled, a hint of pleasure flickering across its brows and eyes.

The tearing pain stimulated it, making its whole body tremble with delight.

Uncontrollably, it opened its mouth and let out a piercing long cry: “Ang!”

In that strange cry, the entire low mountain forest fell utterly silent—not a bird or beast dared make a sound, all trembling with terror.

It gazed beyond the mountains, eager to return to the village as soon as possible.

Its agile form darted through the woods, while its outstretched claws casually plucked off the head of the black-clad Captain, as effortlessly as plucking a fruit from a tree.

Compared to the myriad emotions of demons and monsters,

Shen Yi gripped his Yi Dao tightly, his eyes calm as a still well, his focus entirely on the monstrous claw reaching toward him.

The scaled claw surged forward with violent energy, stabbing fiercely.

Jiao Feng wielded no weapon—its body alone was enough to disdain divine blades.

“...”

Whether it was the yellow dog, the black monkey, or even the Blue-Scaled Old Mother, all had been animals cultivated into spirits by Shen Yi’s own hand.

Yet this beast before him—its strange long cry, plus the odd horn growing from its forehead—

Likely needed no cultivation at all; its original form was already a creature of myth.

Shen Yi’s grip on the blade tightened further; his black-and-white eyes, by all logic, ought to have held tension—but for some reason, beneath the rapid pounding of his heart, he felt an inexplicable thrill.

His entire aura surged rapidly into the blade, merging it with the night.

Tanlang slays evil.

The straight, long blade fell silently; when it touched the claw’s scales, it paused for an instant, then sliced through effortlessly.

Jiao Feng didn’t even feel pain—it only wondered why it hadn’t felt the familiar, satisfying tear of flesh.

It turned its head to look.

In its vision, half a paw fell to the ground—no blood sprayed, only a few strands of crimson clung to the blade’s pitch-black surface, appearing as if by magic.

Shen Yi held the blade with both hands, his motion never pausing.

As Jiao Feng’s disbelief had barely begun to surface, he drove the black blade deep into its body!

Puch!

The Yi Dao was merely an inanimate object, yet it somehow radiated a ravenous hunger.

Countless blood threads were pulled out, dyeing the blade a deep crimson.

“Chii...”

Jiao Feng seized the young man’s wrist—beneath its sharp claws, Shen Yi’s Eight Treasures Mystic Body seemed to lose all effect; the pale skin glowed with mystic light, then was effortlessly torn open by the razor-sharp fingertips.

It surged with force, trying to wrench the strange blade free.

Shen Yi appeared oblivious to pain, calmly pushing the blade another third of an inch deeper.

Even with the Eight Treasures Mystic Body, a beginner martial cultivator’s strength could never match that of a powerful flesh-and-blood dragon.

Yet as the crimson aura along the blade flowed into his body through his palm, he felt endless strength surging within him—even the wound on his wrist healed visibly before his eyes.

“You’re eating me?”

Jiao Feng bared its teeth, voice hoarse; the madness in its eyes was even fiercer than when its claw had been severed.

“You dare eat me?”

It sneered, as if the idea were absurd.

Instantly, fury surged across its face!

Its countless wounds burst open completely; it released Shen Yi, grabbed its own flesh, and tore it away with brutal force!

Chiiii!

In an instant, a colossal creature ten zhang long soared into the sky.

Its body coiled through the heavens, its head monstrous, its single horn glowing crimson.

The black blade embedded in its body now seemed tiny, insignificant.

The dragon hissed downward, its vertical pupils fierce, fixed on Shen Yi; it didn’t even bother shaking off the Yi Dao—the lifeless object had reverted to its original dull black glow.

“Roar!”

It roared again; gales snapped low trees, swept up fallen leaves, and surged violently toward the young man—its massive body rolled downward, crushing everything beneath!

With such a disparity in size, a martial cultivator without a blade posed no threat whatsoever.

And Shen Yi’s posture—standing still with hands hanging limp—seemed to confirm the dragon’s belief.

Until he looked up.

In that breath, the dragon sensed a dangerous aura; its scales bristled, and it instinctively turned its head.

Behind it, countless energies converged into a curtain of swords.

Beneath the pale moonlight, it faintly glowed with demonic crimson, its malevolent aura equal to its own.

What kind of demonic cultivator is this!

As Shen Yi’s face turned pale and he exhaled a turbid qi,

The entire sky's gang qi crashed down!

The dragon’s massive body had nowhere to evade—it could only curl up desperately, shielding its belly with its hard black scales.

Bang! Bang!

Invisible gang qi hammered against the dragon’s body like blacksmith’s blows, dull thuds echoing through the valley, instantly smashing it into the forest below.

When the gang qi dispersed, the eerie red glow clung to its body like flames, refusing to extinguish no matter how it rubbed or twisted.

A continuous hissing of corrosion rang out; black scales melted rapidly, revealing the flesh beneath.

“Ang!!”

The dragon screamed, churning the surroundings into chaos.

Only when the red glow finally burned out did it tremble, lifting its head—its body battered and broken, no longer reveling in pain’s ecstasy, its vertical pupils now filled only with the relief of survival.

It suddenly turned to the young man; upon seeing his pallid face, it finally sneered: “Good! Good! Now it’s my turn.”

Before the words were fully spoken, the dragon noticed Shen Yi had closed his eyes.

This posture clearly meant he was utterly exhausted, helpless, ready to surrender.

Yet a strange tremor stirred in its heart.

The next instant, another curtain of gang qi swords appeared in the sky—identical to the first.

Then a second, then a third...

Until the entire sky was obscured, the heavens filled with demonic crimson glow, faintly radiating mockery.

The dragon lifted its neck, frozen in place.

It suddenly opened its massive maw, revealing razor fangs, its shriek sharp with despair: “Fake! All fake! You can’t fool me!”

Shen Yi calmly pressed his palm down.

Countless heavenly gang blood and sha surged like a tide, completely drowning the tiny demon dragon.

Forty years of demonic lifespan.

Even he felt a pang of regret.

Until a prompt flashed across his panel.

【Slain Jade Fluid Realm initial-stage demon dragon. Total lifespan: 1,427 years. Remaining lifespan: 1,230 years. Absorption complete.】

【Remaining demonic lifespan: 1,435 years. Can be refined.】

Shen Yi walked slowly toward the scattered wreckage.

The few remaining remains still clung with crimson glow, half of it dissolved within a few breaths.

He bent down, picked up the glowing dragon core, and placed it beside the previous fox spirit’s essence.

Now was not the time to tally his gains.

Shen Yi turned and darted through the forest, casually snatching up the two unlucky men, heading toward the fishing village.

(End of Chapter)