Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Four-Eyed Demon Moth

According to the information, the Four-Eyed Demon Moth was a common low-rank demon creature in the Heng Yun world. In its larval stage, its strength roughly matched the third level of Qi Refining.

Once mature, it usually reached the fourth level, though wing color mattered. Gray wings were the weakest. White wings pressed close to the fifth level. If it molted into red wings, it could reach the sixth.

The target in Zhao Chun’s task was the most ordinary kind: a Four-Eyed Gray-Winged Demon Moth. It was meant as a trial for a disciple, not a true threat.

And with Tu Cun Chan—himself at the fourth level of Qi Refining—going with her, killing it should have been simple.

Zhao Chun relaxed. She took out the second volume of the Scripture of True Sensory Insight and continued reading.

She hadn’t slackened on the road. By now, she’d already worked through the cultivation method for mid-stage Qi Refining and learned that a person possessed two dantians, upper and lower. The spiritual roots sat in the lower dantian. The upper dantian lay between the brows.

At the fourth level, a cultivator gathered qi into the lower dantian. When it filled, one broke into the fifth level. After that, the upper dantian opened. When both were filled, one reached the sixth level. When the two dantians connected and circulated as if they were one, that marked the seventh level—the threshold into late-stage Qi Refining.

In Zhao Chun’s case, every cultivation session felt as if her lower dantian swallowed qi like a whale. If she didn’t restrain it, it would pull the qi around her nearly dry.

Stranger still, only part of that qi entered her dantian. The rest was swallowed by her spiritual roots themselves.

She sensed something unusual, but it wasn’t harming her. Zhao Chun decided to let it continue and see what it became.

After another day of cultivation, the full-moon night arrived.

Ink-dark clouds lay soft as gauze, yet the moonlight shone through clean and bright.

Zhao Chun gripped the Crimson Edge Dagger and entered the forest beside Tu Cun Chan.

Perhaps the moon was unusually strong. Even the layered canopy couldn’t block it completely. White light spilled between leaves, painting the ground in broken patterns.

The deeper they went, the colder the wind seemed to grow. Zhao Chun’s palm dampened on the hilt. This was her first time facing a demon creature she’d only heard of in stories—and beneath the nerves, a spark of excitement flared.

“We’re here,” Tu Cun Chan whispered, deliberately lowering his already hoarse voice until it turned eerie.

Ahead was a cave mouth hidden behind layers of dead branches. A faint glow seeped from within.

“I’ve been here before,” Tu Cun Chan said. “I know the way. Please follow behind me, Fellow Daoist.”

He drew a small banner from his sleeve, showed it to Zhao Chun, and stepped inside.

Zhao Chun followed.

The inside was strange. Though it was called a cave, the walls were not stone. Up close, they were packed soil, uneven and granular. The ceiling had been pierced with many round holes of varying sizes, letting moonlight filter down in pale shafts.

Their steps grew quieter. In the hush, an unfamiliar sound rose—wings beating.

Zhao Chun’s breath tightened. She lifted the dagger, guarding her chest.

“I’ll use a slowing technique,” Tu Cun Chan murmured. “Seize the opening. Cut off its right limb first.”

They exchanged a look and moved forward together.

Zhao Chun finally saw it.

The moth was the size of a water buffalo, with four blood-red eyes, two thick limbs, and two pairs of serrated wings wrapped around a plump, tube-like abdomen.

Before it could fully react, Tu Cun Chan raised his hand. The banner fluttered, releasing a wash of white light. His other hand formed a spell at his chest, and the light shot forward.

The demon creature’s senses were sharper than a cultivator’s. The instant Tu Cun Chan moved, it shrieked and surged toward them.

It was fast—but the white light was faster.

The glow struck into the moth’s head. Its shriek twisted into a wail, thick with hatred, and its movements slowed abruptly.

Now.

Zhao Chun used Serpent-Form Step. In a blink she was at its side, and she slashed at the right limb.

The Crimson Edge Dagger lived up to its reputation. There was a brief bite of resistance at the shell—and then the blade cut through cleanly.

The moth’s right limb spun away, spraying green fluid.

Zhao Chun twisted aside on instinct. The liquid hit the ground and ate into the soil, raising a hiss of white smoke.

She had barely registered her narrow escape when the moth tore free of the slowing technique.

It had intelligence enough to fear. Zhao Chun’s blade was too sharp, her movements too dangerous. Instead of lunging at her, it turned toward Tu Cun Chan, beating its wings in a frantic attempt to flee.

Zhao Chun already understood how Tu Cun Chan fought. He was poor at offensive spells, relying on support and control—one reason he hadn’t managed to kill the moth before, and had been injured instead.

Zhao Chun was different. The Tiger Strength Art had greatly increased her strength, and the Swift-Stride Sword Method amplified it further. From the beginning, she’d chosen a path of direct killing—not because she loved violence, but because she refused to rely on anyone else.

Among a hundred weapons, the sword was made for slaughter: ruthless, straightforward, suited to a frontal assault. That was why she’d chosen it.

Now, with Tu Cun Chan as her only support, she couldn’t afford to lose him. His slowing technique mattered.

She shifted her footwork and charged, using the dagger like a short sword.

She was faster than the moth’s wings. She leapt, planted a foot on its back, and Sword Light Realm flashed. The left limb fell away.

The moth screamed and hurled itself toward the soil wall, trying to crush her.

Zhao Chun rolled off at the last instant, letting the impact thunder past. The wall shuddered and shed clods of dirt but didn’t collapse—thin, yet astonishingly tough.

With both limbs gone, the moth’s strength plummeted. It stared at Zhao Chun with four red eyes, furious and terrified, unwilling to move.

Zhao Chun didn’t hesitate. She threw the dagger.

The Crimson Edge Dagger shot like a flying knife and pinned the moth’s head into the wall with a dull, final thud.

The Four-Eyed Demon Moth died on the spot.

Tu Cun Chan stared, stunned at how quickly the battle had ended. In his heart, he could only marvel. A disciple of an upper sect truly was different.

Zhao Chun pulled the dagger free, rinsed away the foul fluid with qi, and was about to put it away when she noticed movement in the moth’s abdomen.

The tube-like belly was still pulsing—rising and falling, like breathing.

“Fellow Daoist?” Tu Cun Chan asked, noticing her pause. “Is something wrong?”

The abdomen suddenly caved inward as if something inside were drinking it dry. Zhao Chun’s instincts screamed.

She retreated at once and caught Tu Cun Chan’s sleeve before he could step closer.

A moth the size of a water buffalo became a dried husk in an instant.

A black shadow burst from its abdomen—an arc of darkness that shot straight toward them.