Old Fiend

Yi Fan was unwilling to say more. Today, he was determined to kill this demoness. The magic pouch opened again, releasing more than ten talisman papers that flew out. He leapt forward, his palm waving repeatedly, sending seven or eight "Thunderbolts from the Palm" down.

Thunder roared, talismans darted through the air, forcing Nie Xiaoqian into a desperate defense. At last, she failed to dodge a bolt and was struck, flipping over and landing heavily on the ground.

Seizing the moment, Yi Fan showed no mercy. He moved swiftly, thrusting the "Demon Execution Sword" straight at her. Just as the blade was about to claim her life, Ning Caichen suddenly rushed in and blocked the attack.

Yi Fan’s expression changed, but he did not hesitate with his sword: “Ning Caichen, since you seek death so fervently, I shall grant your wish.”

Ning Caichen cried out in terror, never expecting Yi Fan to truly kill him. He hugged his head, frozen with fear, then felt himself struck and sent flying, landing so hard he nearly fell apart. Looking up, he saw Nie Xiaoqian, her face pale, lying on the other side.

“Fool, you meddle everywhere. Hurry and leave!”

At the critical moment, Nie Xiaoqian’s long silk had struck the scholar aside, and she herself dodged the sword. But now, escape was impossible.

“Xiaoqian, are you all right?”

Ning Caichen crawled over to help her up, but was slapped away. “You scholar, come any closer and I’ll kill you.”

“If I’m to die, so be it. At worst, I’ll die with you.”

Ning Caichen stiffened his neck, refusing to leave.

Yi Fan twirled his sword and said, “You are truly blinded by obsession. You deserve death. This demoness has taken countless lives, yet you refuse to see it. All you perceive is her beautiful visage, unaware of her venomous heart.”

Nie Xiaoqian sneered, “Stinking priest, don’t preach false righteousness. Look at this world—men kill men, far more ruthlessly than any ghost. If it comes to cruelty, none can match the hearts of humans.”

“No matter how clever your tongue, today is your last day.”

Yi Fan narrowed his eyes, ready to advance, when suddenly he leapt up, stepping several times against a tree trunk before landing aside. The ground erupted with a deafening blast, a tree root as thick as a bowl shot out, swinging through the air like an iron whip, lashing toward him.

“Grandmother?”

Nie Xiaoqian cried out in alarm. Yi Fan’s face changed; he hadn’t expected the tree demon’s avatar to arrive as well.

“Thunder from the Palm, Thunder from the Palm…”

He leapt to another spot, his palm sending seven or eight bolts of lightning down, blasting the tree root apart. Immediately, more roots burst from the earth.

Yi Fan let out a cold snort. “If this is all you have, you might as well show yourself and spare yourself further embarrassment.”

With another volley of thunderbolts, he shattered more roots.

Below, Ning Caichen let out a startled cry. Unbeknownst to him, a root exploded from the ground, stabbing fiercely towards him. If struck, he would not survive.

“Fool?”

Nie Xiaoqian gritted her silver teeth and blocked the root, batting it aside.

A furious voice echoed from nowhere: “Nie Xiaoqian, you dare betray me?”

“Grandmother…”

Nie Xiaoqian’s face turned ashen. She wanted to speak, but saw Yi Fan gradually clearing away the remaining roots, and the voice faded.

Yi Fan landed, sword in hand. “The tree demon is gone. Where will you run now?”

As he finished, he moved in, sword flashing, swiftly approaching Nie Xiaoqian—then suddenly spun, slashing to the other side. A ghostly scream rang out; a tree was severed, green sap oozing from its wound.

“Hiding and lurking, did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

The tree demon had not left, but had possessed a tree nearby, ready to ambush. Yi Fan had anticipated this; as he drew near Nie Xiaoqian, the demonic aura surfaced.

A green light flashed, drifting to another tree. Immediately, countless roots exploded from the earth, attacking wildly. Yi Fan snorted, opened his magic pouch, sending more than ten talismans flying out to collide with the roots, transforming into blazing fireballs.

“Nie Xiaoqian, will you not help me kill this ragged priest? Do you truly wish to betray me? Are you not afraid I’ll destroy your golden altar, scattering your soul?”

The voice came from all directions, swelling and fading, as if spoken by countless people.

“Xiaoqian?”

Ning Caichen’s face went white, but Nie Xiaoqian slapped him away. “Out of my way.”

Her long silk flew out, whipping with fierce wind toward Yi Fan, and she herself flew forward, coordinating with the tree demon to encircle him.

Yi Fan was undaunted. He rolled back, dodging the attacks. A rain of talismans fell, blocking the assault. Then he plunged his sword into the ground, channeling his power as his hands moved: “Thunder from the Palm…”

“I don’t believe I can’t blast you to death!”

If it were the tree demon’s true body, a hundred of him could not prevail; he would have fled without hesitation. But now it was merely an avatar, and extremely weak, as if constrained by some force.

In this case, he had no fear, and would not let the opportunity slip. He resolved to capture these two demons.

Thunderbolts fell ceaselessly, soaring through the sky, blasting sand and stones as fire and thunder rolled. Nie Xiaoqian endured only a few attacks before being thrown aside, unable to move.

The tree demon fared even worse; all its roots were shattered, even the possessed trees destroyed. It switched hosts four or five times, yet could not hold out long.

It seemed as though ages had passed, but it was but a moment. Within a hundred meters, the ground was riddled with craters, flames raging, lighting the whole forest. The commotion echoed for miles, and all lesser ghosts had long since fled.

Yi Fan’s face was pale as paper, sweat dripping from his brow—signs of extreme exhaustion. Yet he clenched his teeth, refusing to relax, and focused intently on his surroundings.

Suddenly, a green light shot out, attempting to burrow underground. Yi Fan moved: “Trying to escape now? You won’t get away.”

A thunderbolt crashed down, forcing the green light back. It drifted to another side, but Yi Fan was already there, pressing both hands down, power surging forth, releasing a radiant glow that vanished in the blink of an eye.

Yi Fan sat cross-legged on the ground, a ball of green light trapped beneath him, struggling fiercely as ghostly wails and howls echoed, chilling the soul.

“If you’d remained hidden, it would have taken effort to root you out. But since you dared emerge, now you must die.”

Yi Fan gritted his teeth, pressing down, preparing to refine the tree demon’s avatar.

Sensing mortal peril, the tree demon struggled ever more desperately, then let out a piercing scream: “Nie Xiaoqian, this wretched priest cannot move! Hurry and kill him for me!”

“Tonight is the night of the full moon. Kill this stinking priest, gather the heart-blood of the living, break the relic, and my true body will be freed. Then I’ll return your golden altar, grant you freedom, and even plead with Old Black Mountain Demon to let you rise further and gain greater benefits.”

Yi Fan’s expression changed slightly as he glanced at the night sky. Indeed, the moon was full, shining brightly, the moment when the world’s yin energy was at its peak. No wonder the tree demon could not sit still and struck personally, only to be suppressed by Yi Fan’s rapid advancement.

He turned to Nie Xiaoqian, seeing her struggling to get up and slowly crawling toward him, intent on stopping him. Yet beneath him, the tree demon resisted even more fiercely, forcing him to remain seated and unmoving.