Chapter 178: The Demon Emperor’s Decision
From midnight onward, war drums pulsed like heartbeats in shadowed alleys, marking the opening of a ruthless night drenched in blood and steel. Darkness deepened over snow that burned crimson, a battleground where fate’s threads twisted cruelly.
The air was sharp with the music of clashing blades, swords singing as they sliced through emptiness, mingling with the echoes of unleashed arcane fury. Within the Jade Garden, violent tremors shattered stone and timber, casting dust and smoke skyward, cloaking the heavens in a murderous haze.
Though demons lacked the rugged strength of barbarian clans, their speed was peerless, especially those who had reached the pinnacle of the Profound Demon Realm. Amidst the turmoil, many had awakened their demon forms, their power surging forth until they rivaled the might of a Half-Step War King.
This was the demon race’s true might. In these brief yet devastating moments of transformation, they outmatched even barbarian berserkers. To the human cultivators caught in this deadly storm, each heartbeat was a desperate wager against death.
Yan Chuan’s sword streaked like a comet through the night sky, alone holding back two demon generals whose fully awakened forms radiated killing intent. His blade cut ceaselessly, splitting the snowfall like flashes of lightning.
Behind him, Huo Hong and Yan Qiu Bai danced through danger, their flesh torn by fresh wounds as they narrowly evaded the fierce attacks of Xue Bai, a female demon general whose assaults poured down relentlessly, like an endless rain of deadly blades.
A thunderous crash resounded from the Eastern Wing. An elder from the Mountain and Sea Pavilion swung down his iron blade, only to be blocked by a demon general armed with a silver spear and matching iron sword. Taking advantage of that instant, Jian Rong, another demon general, ghosted away eastward, his figure swiftly dissolving into the snowy darkness.
Jiang Chen Feng barely had time to brace himself as a giant axe cleaved toward him, its force akin to a raging storm. Desperation flashed across his eyes as he raised his sword to defend, the clash knocking him backward, pain shooting through his arm.
Before he could regain his footing, the axe fell again, slicing through snowfall with deadly accuracy. Teeth clenched, Jiang Chen Feng summoned golden arcane light at his fingertips, firing a sharp beam toward his adversary. The demon warrior only sneered, easily slashing through the spell like thin silk. Jiang Chen Feng was hurled through doors and paper screens into the Eastern Wing’s brothel, landing heavily, hands trembling, blood dripping from his lips.
Had he not summoned a spiritual shield at the last moment, his life would have ended there. Yet even surviving, he felt death’s shadow gnawing at his heart, rage and dread rising equally within him.
“Damn it!”
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
Though the Trinity Formation could briefly stem the tide, the overwhelming strength of the demonized warriors would inevitably tear it apart. Even a Dao Fusion Realm cultivator, honored among the immortal sects, could only endure so long.
Jiang Chen Feng ground his teeth in bitter frustration. Then, a sword’s clear, piercing cry echoed from outside the courtyard, instantly recognized.
[That’s Ji You’s sword. A sound I’ve grown familiar with during this journey.]
High above the Jade Garden, on a towering pavilion, the Fang Clan chieftain’s anxiety deepened. Just as the humans’ formations were nearing collapse, the Qi-Concealing Artifacts hiding their presence neared their limits. Within an hour, the enchantments would fail, and the moment the Demon Emperor opened his eyes, no secrets could remain hidden.
Yet, despite meticulous planning, no reports of slain human cultivators had reached them.
Although they had deployed only warriors at the peak of the Profound Demon Realm, excluding their feared Heavenly Demon Warlords, victory should have been assured through sheer numbers alone.
“Patience.”
“How can I remain patient?”
“Even if these cultivators survive, Shu He’s swiftness guarantees the envoys’ deaths. Perhaps…he has already succeeded.”
Their gazes shifted westward, matching Jiang Chen Feng’s anxious glance.
Within the Western Wing’s quiet courtyard, sword and dagger clashed fiercely, sword intent colliding violently with swift, razor-sharp blades, scattering snowflakes like shattered glass.
Ji You stood firm, golden eyes blazing with power. His veins pulsed with surging qi, and the sword in his hand hummed eagerly. The effects of Feng Yang’s medicinal needle had healed him, wounds fading like distant dreams. Sword grasped tightly, he felt mastery over the heavens themselves.
Facing him, demon general Shu He stared cautiously, sensing Ji You’s overwhelming sword aura, fierce as an unleashed tempest. Doubt flickered briefly in his eyes.
Moments earlier, Shu He had infiltrated the Western Wing silently under the technique ?Silent Wind in the Night?. But despite his flawless stealth, he’d been exposed immediately upon entry. Still, this had not troubled him.
His true strength lay in speed and the lethal precision of his twin daggers. In countless conflicts, he had struck unseen, silent as death.
Yet here, someone had halted his blades.
Coincidence?
An unusual coincidence indeed.
The night resonated with steel’s clash, heralding a confrontation mighty enough to shake the very heavens.
The sound rang sharp, as if blades sliced through the wind itself.
In a breath, Shu He stepped forward, his silhouette melting into darkness like ink spreading in water. With his second step, even the shadow vanished completely, leaving not the slightest ripple in the air to betray his movements.
Yet, the wind itself churned with murderous intent emanating from his dagger.
Born from the lowest depths of the Demon Clan, Shu He had humble origins. His parents were mere traders on the outskirts of the city. Though demons were not cruel to their kin as humans often were, status and power still dictated one’s fate—especially in the harsh, resource-scarce lands of the Northern Snowy Expanse, where strength determined who lived and who perished.
But with speed unmatched and stealth perfected through countless shadows, Shu He clawed upward, becoming a Demon General of the Scale Clan. While he lacked overwhelming brute strength, his deadly blade had earned him fame among the three most feared assassins.
A bloodthirsty smile began to surface on Shu He’s lips, only to freeze halfway. His dagger, swift as a shadow serpent, should have tasted blood. Instead, a clear, metallic chime rang out.
Not the satisfying tear of flesh, but the sharp collision of steel meeting steel.
Ji You had already moved, sword descending gracefully like moonlit waves, forcing back the assassin’s ruthless blade. Golden radiance flickered in Ji You’s eyes, locked unwaveringly upon Shu He.
Shu He’s pupils contracted, astonishment flashing briefly across his face. Without hesitation, he vanished once more, melting seamlessly into the night. Again, the dagger flew forth with ghostly speed.
Clang!
Ji You spun smoothly, blade cutting horizontally like thunder, sparks blooming from the fierce impact. Shu He pressed forward, moonlight reflecting coldly off his dagger as he lunged again.
The second strike rattled Shu He’s bones, his blade quivering from the impact. His eyes widened in disbelief.
“You can see me?” he breathed.
“I am not blind,” Ji You replied quietly, sword steady and humming with sword qi.
Mortals perceived the world with their senses, cultivators with spiritual consciousness. In the lower three cultivation realms, spiritual perception reached outward, revealing hidden threats. Ji You’s consciousness, however, was forged differently—sharpened through battles that demanded splitting attention between seven swords at once.
Though the human body was fragile, it possessed extraordinary sensitivity to motion.
Thus, with precise awareness honed by relentless practice, Ji You tracked Shu He effortlessly.
This Demon General was swift, yet weaker than the formidable foes Ji You had faced before.
A wrinkle formed between Ji You’s brows. Shu He disappeared once more, blade striking mercilessly. Ji You countered, sword ringing crisply, but danger flashed across his senses. He twisted instinctively, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow as the dagger drew a thin crimson line across his cheek.
For the first time, Shu He looked truly shaken.
He had struck true—but only managed a scratch?
Ji You wiped away the blood, his gaze steady on Shu He.
On his journey, Ji You had tested himself against savage barbarian warriors. At last, he faced one whose speed could breach his defenses.
Yet—
It wasn’t that Shu He was overwhelmingly strong.
Compared to the fearsome Demon Generals lurking outside, this one’s martial prowess was ordinary.
His real danger lay in his ghostly swiftness.
And the dagger.
The Demon Clan was renowned not only for their high-quality spirit stones but also for rare ores hidden beneath the frozen earth.
Ji You eyed Shu He’s dagger thoughtfully.
Sensing his scrutiny, Shu He’s expression tightened, and he vanished into shadow once again, dagger gleaming sharply beneath moonlight.
He realized Ji You was tracking him through spiritual perception, predicting his movements.
But close combat was his realm. Rapid, relentless strikes would overwhelm Ji You. The shorter the distance, the less time Ji You had to respond. The last strike proved his theory.
Even if this human was resilient, once the dagger pierced the heart, even the toughest would fall.
There was only one complication—
Ji You could see him clearly.
Yet what good was seeing, if the sword was too slow?
Clang!
Sparks erupted as blade met dagger again. Shu He’s first strike was blocked, but his left hand surged forward, dagger thrusting directly toward Ji You’s heart.
Ji You instantly retreated, blade lifting swiftly.
Shu He smirked. The human saw his deadly intent clearly, yet all he could do was retreat.
Had the roles been reversed, Shu He would have despaired.
He could imagine no defense against such speed.
Then, suddenly—
A low hum resonated through the air.
Shu He rose swiftly, twin daggers glinting coldly like twin crescent moons, a ruthless smile once more upon his lips. Killing intent flooded outward, saturating the night air.
With a thunderous clash, his blade surged again, swift as lightning cutting through the dark veil of night. As before, Ji You lifted his sword, calm and unshaken, deflecting blow after blow. Yet the onslaught refused to relent, wave upon wave crashing relentlessly, leaving no gap for breath.
But this time, amidst the blinding storm of swords, Shu He glimpsed a flash of sword-light roaring toward the heavens.
A fiery pain seared into his left shoulder, blood spraying in a crimson arc. Instinct screamed, and he retreated swiftly, twisting in midair. Behind him, the same terrifying sword energy sliced through the darkness, cleaving a towering pine laden heavily with snow. The tree crashed down, its heavy frost thundering silently into the earth.
[Impossible… he cannot be wounded.]
[This power… even my heart trembles.]
Shu He’s eyes widened as he stared at the blood staining his shoulder, disbelief darkening his gaze. What sort of sword could strike so swiftly?
If he had hesitated even a heartbeat longer, that blade would not have struck his shoulder.
It would have claimed his life.
No more hesitation. This battle must end immediately.
His aura shifted abruptly, murderous intent blazing forth. His muscles tightened, breath grew harsh, and his arrogant sneer contorted into a beastly snarl. Bones ground together, reshaping in a grotesque transformation. He hunched forward, bound by an unseen force.
Then—
A surge of raw demonic energy erupted outward, scattering the snow in violent waves. In an instant, Shu He completed his transformation into a fearsome demon. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, he hurtled toward Ji You, twin short blades shimmering with icy dragon menace.
Steel crashed upon steel, sparks igniting the frigid air. Shu He’s blade scraped upward, leaving a bloody crimson line across Ji You’s collarbone.
But Ji You did not waver. His sword soared, defiant and swift as wind.
Indeed, Shu He was correct.
Speed was Ji You’s greatest weapon.
To see without striking meant nothing.
What mattered was a sword swift enough to chase the wind, to cut shadows and part the night itself.
And such a sword, Ji You wielded.
Once more, blades clashed with the fury of lightning. Ji You’s strike fell with impossible swiftness, freezing even the snowflakes in their descent.
Yet this time, the attack did not taste blood. A resonating clang shattered the air as Shu He, now fully demonized, blocked the strike, eyes narrowing with venomous rage.
For a demon who prided himself on speed, having to transform merely to match a human’s blade was humiliation beyond measure.
Unacceptable.
Roaring with fury, Shu He’s left blade slashed downward, matching Ji You’s speed stroke for stroke. Ji You parried, unleashing Spirit Sword Mountain’s famed “Return and Come.”
In that instant, blades danced fiercely like a torrential downpour. Sparks flashed, snow hissed, and steel rang clear.
Then—
Pain. Sharp and undeniable, blossoming in Shu He’s chest.
He stumbled back, staring downward.
A wound, etched into his very heart.
Breath coming ragged, fury clouding his thoughts, his body realized the grim truth before his mind could comprehend.
Another strike.
This one slashed his abdomen, another wound erupting violently. Fear seeped into his bones, an unfamiliar chill.
Tonight—
All had gone terribly wrong.
His stealth discovered too soon, his unstoppable strikes repeatedly deflected. And now, despite a relentless storm of attacks, only superficial wounds marred his foe.
Most terrifyingly—
He had not even seen the strikes land.
Across the snow-cloaked courtyard, Ji You stepped forward, sword raised, inevitable as destiny itself. His blade descended, Shu He barely managing to block.
Then—
Sword-light surged once more.
From behind?
Two swords? No… three?
A piercing agony stabbed through Shu He’s back. Turning in dread, he glimpsed something that stole his breath.
Seven ethereal swords hovered silently, their celestial glow illuminating the night sky, threatening to tear reality asunder.
And beneath that deadly constellation stood Ji You, golden eyes burning with unwavering resolve.
Meanwhile, in the Princess’s Manor west of Summit Striding Dao—
Feng Yang’s face darkened as she gazed toward the distant Jade Garden, disbelief rippling through her eyes.
She had known danger loomed the instant battle cries shattered the tranquility of night.
But the news she received next shook her heart to its core.
The report was explicit: under cover of darkness, over a dozen demon generals from the Scale Clan and Fang Clan had moved together, descending with lethal intent upon Jade Garden.
To the casual observer, this meant little. But to her—
No further explanation was needed.
The Scale Clan and Fang Clan had long sought war with the Nine Provinces. Their actions tonight were sparks deliberately igniting conflict between Demon and Barbarian clans.
In that moment, Feng Yang thought of a certain man.
A man she once dismissed arrogantly.
Only now did Feng Yang understand why he had insisted on restoring his arm before nightfall…
It was not mere recklessness, nor disregard for life—
It was because he, too, belonged to the Demon Clan.
This truth struck Feng Yang like an unsheathed sword, swift and merciless. Her lips sealed, body frozen, delicate form taut with sudden realization. The human had acted strangely through the day, and now the truth emerged clearly—he had sensed the hidden killing intent beneath night’s veil yet moved with serene confidence, revealing nothing.
“The Scale and Fang Clans dare to move alone? Do they no longer fear Father’s fury?”
Ye Han turned calmly to his sister, his voice steady as an ancient stream. “If the Human Envoy dies, war between our Demon Clan and the Nine Provinces will ignite instantly. When flames of battle rise, the four mightiest clans—Scale, Claw, Fur, and Fang—will be beyond punishment. The Scale and Fang chieftains have never feared death; what they fear is a lifetime forbidden from reclaiming the Nine Provinces. Such is their heart’s obsession.”
Feng Yang clenched her fists tightly. “The Humans are prepared. They will not fall so easily.”
“What preparations you speak of, I do not know, but I have heard… Shu He has also gone.”
Feng Yang turned sharply, her eyes darkening. “Demon General Shu He?”
Ye Han nodded gravely.
A chill overtook Feng Yang’s expression. Among the warriors of the Scale Clan, each was formidable, but none were as feared as Shu He. No titan of the battlefield, yet his blade brought certain death, striking swift as wind and silent as shadow. His speed, born from an unmatched bloodline, made him untouchable—a whispered omen of doom.
For this, Shu He was forever an outsider, shunned by all save the Scale Clan chieftain. Yet none disputed that whoever fell under his blade was as good as dead.
A dreadful vision filled Feng Yang’s mind—Jade Garden, corpses littering the frost-soaked night. Without hesitation, she turned swiftly toward the Demon Emperor’s Palace.
Ye Han followed silently, signaling the guards to accompany.
The palace loomed immense, black walls heavy as a sleeping beast. Silence reigned, yet deep within, an unseen power stirred. In moments, the grand halls filled with armored ranks, forming sharp, disciplined formations. Three elusive Heavenly Demon Generals stood among them, their presence heavy and foreboding.
Feng Yang strode past the silent warriors, entering just as the Demon Emperor emerged from the shadows of the inner court, his gaze inscrutable, lost in the boundless night.
“Father! The Scale and Fang Clans have defied your command, sending Demon Generals and Death Retainers to slay the Human Envoy in Jade Garden!”
The Demon Emperor turned slowly, voice calm as mountain stone. “I am already aware.”
Feng Yang knelt swiftly, voice trembling. “Father, grant me troops to quell their treachery!”
The Demon Emperor remained unmoving. “They seek only to decide my path. This is no rebellion.”
“Father, I know the clan chieftains dream endlessly of reclaiming the Nine Provinces. The Snowy Expanse was never their true home. But even if war must come, should it begin with dishonor?”
The Demon Emperor murmured softly, his tone profound. “Sometimes, men push fate forward; other times, fate pushes men.”
He looked deeply at his kneeling daughter. “Take Ye Han and the troops outside to Jade Garden.”
Feng Yang rose immediately, turning to issue commands, when her father spoke once more.
“Feng Yang, do you understand why I send you?”
She turned, meeting his deep eyes. “Is it not to save the Humans?”
The Demon Emperor’s silence lingered before he finally answered. “If the Envoy is dead or gravely wounded, assist Mu Le in ending it swiftly—no survivors. But if the Humans yet live, seize all involved and imprison them in the Frozen Prison.”
Feng Yang’s breath caught sharply, eyes widening. “Father…”
He raised one hand, halting her protest. “Humans have a saying—man’s schemes cannot surpass Heaven’s will. But I believe sometimes Heaven and man’s schemes intertwine.”
His voice grew distant, heavy with contemplation. “For years, I have pondered Heaven’s decree. Now, I wish to see clearly the choice Heaven makes for me.”
“If Heaven never intended the Demon Clan to flourish, no choice we make matters. Tonight, let fate itself reveal its intent.”
“If Heaven desires war, let war come. If peace is fated, peace shall remain. The path has never been clearer.”
“Say no more. This decision belongs not to me—but to Heaven.”
Feng Yang clenched her fists tighter, knuckles white. She steadied her breath, turned, and led the Heavenly Demon Generals and Imperial Vanguard toward Jade Garden.
Yet deep within, an icy chill had already taken hold.
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation)