The sound of rushing magic echoed through the air as wave after wave of Sky Demons were swept into the River of Yellow Springs, refined into pills by its mystical current. Fang Han could barely suppress his joy. Dispelling the Heavenly Wolf Smoke, he walked toward the group of female disciples, sat cross-legged before them, swallowed an Essence Pill, took a few sips of water, and closed his eyes to rest his exhausted body.
The danger had passed. The female disciples, still shaken, watched him quietly. They could tell he had burned through nearly all his energy.
As the Essence Pill dissolved in his abdomen, warmth spread through his body. Fang Han circulated his blood and Qi, restoring his vitality bit by bit until he could rise to his feet again.
"Senior Brother Fang," one of the girls exclaimed, "you actually killed hundreds of Sky Demons! Even the top three on the Mountain and River Rankings couldn't match such power!"
Fang Han smiled faintly. "I only relied on the power of the Seven Fiend Gourd. Without it, we'd all have been torn apart by now." He patted the dark gourd hanging at his waist, downplaying his true strength and crediting the treasure instead.
Indeed, without the gourd, even a few dozen Sky Demons would've been beyond his ability to handle.
The girls looked at the Seven Fiend Gourd with open admiration. Such a treasure was rare even among True Disciples — its utility was beyond compare.
"By the way," Xu Yue'er asked curiously, "that sonic technique you used earlier — it wasn't part of our Yuhua Sect's repertoire. Even Sister Long's Righteous Song of the Vast Qi doesn't sound like that. Where did you learn it?"
"Oh, that?" Fang Han said casually, "It's a method taught to me by an eccentric wanderer before I joined the sect. I never learned its name. A small secret of mine — I hope you sisters can keep it between us."
"Of course," another girl said quickly. "You saved our lives. How could we ever betray your trust? Senior Sister Jialan would never forgive us if we did."
"Senior Sister Jialan?" Fang Han echoed.
Xu Yue'er giggled. "You mean you haven't heard? 'East Lingxiao, West Jialan, North Yaoguang, South Wanluo, and Central Tiandu' — the five great True Disciples of Yuhua Sect. Our Senior Sister Jialan resides in the western peak, hence she's called West Jialan. Their powers are said to surpass even the Grand Elders. Jialan and Yaoguang are women, while Lingxiao, Wanluo, and Tiandu are men — all of them on the verge of immortality."
"I see…" Fang Han nodded slowly, watching the awe in their faces as they spoke the names. Clearly, these five were far beyond ordinary True Disciples — even more powerful than Shi Longzi, Jin Shitai, or perhaps even Fang Qingxue.
"But Fang Qingxue's progress is astonishing," another girl chimed in. "When she last fought the Demon God, she was already in the Fourth Stage of the Divine Ability Realm — Yin-Yang Stage. She's catching up to them quickly. Even White Sea Zen Master said she might soon stand among the Five Greats. I wonder how she compares to the Demon Commander Ying Tianqing… probably equals, I'd say."
Fang Han's heart tightened slightly. Qingxue's rise brought him both pride and unease — the stronger she was, the safer his own path under her shadow. For now, he still needed that protection.
Xu Yue'er looked around. "The Sky Demons are all dead, but we shouldn't move rashly. Let's recover first. If another horde appears, we'll be in grave danger."
Fang Han nodded. "Rest, yes — but not for long. The battlefield's crawling with demons. Others are in worse danger than we were. We're all of Yuhua Sect — if we can save some, we should. I still have the Seven Fiend Gourd. Ordinary Sky Demons won't threaten us."
He needed more Sky Demons — not for glory, but for alchemy.
"Yan," he called to the spirit within him, "how many Sky Demons did we capture? Do we have enough pills?"
"Four hundred and thirteen Sky Demons," came Yan's dry voice, "and five Demon Commanders. That will yield about five hundred and twenty pills. But the ten Nightshades will each need more than thirty to evolve into Shuras — which leaves you less than two hundred. You'll need more demons. Much more."
"Good." Fang Han's eyes gleamed. Even five hundred pills were an extraordinary haul. Most Inner Disciples could only refine a handful of low-grade Qi-Flow Pills at a time, nothing compared to his harvest. Even a True Disciple would go mad with envy — this was the kind of result only a Dao-grade furnace could produce.
"Senior Brother Fang is right," said Xu Yue'er. "We've learned how to fight these creatures. Saving others will strengthen both our spirits and our hearts. It's a gain either way."
After resting for half an hour, everyone had fully recovered. Fang Han released the Heavenly Wolf Smoke, forming a vast cloud that carried them low over the ground. They flew just a few meters above, avoiding cliffs and peaks, careful not to disperse the smoke.
They didn't realize that their fierce battle and the slaughter of hundreds of Sky Demons had already drawn attention.
Far away, atop a towering mountain, the Great Might Vajra Demon King opened his crimson eyes. His gaze pierced through thousands of miles of distance, locking onto the faint, smoky sphere gliding close to the earth.
"Die."
The word echoed like a curse. His body vanished into the wind, leaving behind only flickering afterimages that quickly faded into the horizon.
Meanwhile, in Yuhua Sect's Sky Mirror Hall, an Elder suddenly cried out, "Who are those nine disciples? They've slaughtered hundreds of Sky Demons! Since when did our outer sect produce such formidable talent? What treasure are they using?"
Within the massive celestial mirror, countless black dots — Sky Demons — had been wiped away by nine bright red ones. Fang Han and the eight disciples of the Jialan Society blazed across the battlefield like sparks in the dark.
"Every year the Demon Realm grows stronger, but it seems our disciples have grown stronger too," another Elder mused. "Perhaps they borrowed a True Disciple's treasure?"
"Wait—disaster! Look there! Thousands of Sky Demons — and… my heavens, a Demon King!"
On the mirror's surface, a black sphere appeared, the mark of a terrifying presence, surrounded by swarming demons.
And the nine red dots — Fang Han's group — were flying straight toward it.
"Don't worry," said another voice, calm and powerful. "Hua Tiandu and the others have already gone. That Demon King is as good as dead."
As he spoke, the mirror flared — a streak of blazing red light surged across it, exuding immortal radiance so overwhelming that even the Elders themselves were shaken to silence.