"Wu! Gu! Ba! Ma! Hong! Ya! Fo! Po!"
The moment the Great Might Virtue Demon King appeared, Fang Han didn't hesitate. The Wolf Smoke around him billowed outward, then whirled back in, coalescing into the shape of a giant horn. In that instant, the Heavenly Dragon Eight Tones erupted from his body—like an army of ten thousand crashing forth in unison, their roar shaking the world.
The sound, amplified through the massive Wolf Smoke Horn, doubled in intensity. The air itself rippled with lethal resonance.
Fang Han had discovered a new secret within his artifact.
The Wolf Smoke wasn't mere vapor—it was the essence of the Moonlit Wolf, mixed with the toxins of metals and spirits, refined through demonic alchemy. At times it flowed like mercury, at times it drifted like mist; when fierce, it was a raging wolf, when gentle, a winding stream. It could transform into countless forms at his will.
With the Wolf Smoke horn enhancing the Heavenly Dragon Eight Tones, the resulting power was overwhelming—enough to shake heaven itself. That was why Fang Han dared charge into an army of three thousand demons.
Yet the instant the Demon King appeared, Fang Han's instincts screamed danger. This was no ordinary foe—the aura radiating from that being dwarfed any he had faced. His heart whispered the truth: This one cannot be overcome.
Still, hesitation meant death.
He unleashed the eight tones at full force. Normally, such a blast would have shattered the Wolf Smoke itself, but the smoke had been tempered with his blood and soul—bound to him like a living extension of his own body.
A man's voice could never deafen his own ears; likewise, the sound waves could not harm the Wolf Smoke. Instead, both merged into perfect resonance.
"What powerful sound waves…"
Even the Great Might Virtue Demon King faltered. The shockwaves rippled across his massive frame, distorting it like water. For a moment, it looked as if his body might dissolve entirely.
Then, with a thunderous roar, he burst upward, dodging the sonic assault.
"He's still standing? Then run!"
Fang Han's blood ran cold. His full-force strike—augmented by the Wolf Smoke Horn—could have burst an elephant apart from the inside out. Yet this Demon King had shrugged it off. Not even thrown back—only surprised.
Fang Han had once dreamed of testing this newfound power against a Demon King, hoping to achieve a miracle kill and earn fame across the sect. Now he saw how far he still was from that level.
Escape was the only option.
The Wolf Smoke reformed into a sphere and streaked toward the distant Nine Palace Golden Towers, racing over the plain straight into the encircling army of three thousand demons.
The demons were in the midst of their assault when the sudden blast of the Heavenly Dragon Eight Tones from behind stunned them. Many froze mid-motion and turned in confusion—just as Fang Han shot through their ranks, unleashing bursts of sound with each syllable.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Dozens of sky demons exploded into fragments. Even in retreat, Fang Han never wasted a chance. Every shattered demon soul was swiftly drawn into the Seven Fiends Gourd, and from there, he secretly transferred them into the Yellow Springs Diagram.
One after another—ten, twenty, thirty… over a hundred demons were harvested in the chaos.
"Courting death!"
From afar, the Demon King's pale face twisted with fury. A streak of black light ripped through the sky, screaming toward Fang Han's back.
With a violent crack, the Wolf Smoke Sphere was struck, shattering apart like a wounded serpent before retreating into the gourd. Deprived of its protection, Fang Han and the eight Jialan Association women plummeted toward the ground.
Fortunately, the fall wasn't far. They rolled to absorb the impact, then scrambled to their feet, sprinting toward the golden barrier of the Nine Palace Towers.
"Feathered Gate disciples!"
"That black light—it's a Demon King!"
"My heavens, a Demon King himself!"
"Those few actually escaped his grasp? Incredible!"
"It's the Jialan Association sisters—no wonder! But wait, who's that man with them? He's not one of us… his aura feels like a demonic artifact!"
Inside the golden barrier, the disciples murmured in awe and confusion, though none dared step out to assist. Not from malice—but from sheer terror. Facing a Demon King meant instant death.
"Get inside! I'll hold him off!"
Fang Han's voice roared through the chaos. As the women rushed into the safety of the golden light, he turned to face the oncoming darkness.
The Wolf Smoke surged out once more, forming a colossal spectral wolf that lunged to swallow the Demon King whole, devouring several lesser demons along the way.
Xu Yue'er and Ye Yu played their Pine Wave Zither and Cloud Water Flute, sending rippling shockwaves that scattered the demons around them. With a leap, they dove into the barrier, gasping in relief as the golden light embraced them.
"Safe…" they whispered, but their eyes immediately turned back to Fang Han, anxiety tightening their faces.
He was the reason they'd survived—and now he stood alone.
"The Wolf Smoke and Seven Fiends Gourd—artifacts of the Demon God Sect," the Demon King sneered. "For such treasures to end up in the hands of a mere worm like you… wasteful indeed. Hand them over."
He raised a clawed hand, which swelled monstrously, then slammed down.
The spectral wolf howled in agony before bursting apart into vapor, retreating back into the gourd. The backlash sent Fang Han tumbling across the ground. When he tried to re-summon the artifact, he sensed it was injured—its essence wounded, requiring time to heal.
"This Demon King is stronger than Jin Shitai ever was," Fang Han thought grimly. "Even Jin Shitai couldn't pierce the Wolf Smoke barrier—and that was before I grew this much stronger. Yet this thing crushed it in a single blow."
The Demon King advanced, laughter echoing across the frozen plain. Just as he raised his hand for the killing strike—his expression abruptly changed.
He stopped, gaze lifting toward the heavens.
"What… such cold…" Fang Han whispered.
A sudden chill swept the land. His breath misted in front of him. The air grew heavy, then—
Snow.
Endless, spiraling snow.
In the blink of an eye, the entire sky turned white. Massive flakes fell like feathers of light, blanketing the land for miles in every direction.
The demons screamed. Wherever the snow touched, it became ice—freezing them solid in an instant.
In moments, all three thousand demons were statues of ice, shattered and silent. The snowflakes brushed Fang Han's shoulders but melted harmlessly away.
Even the Great Might Virtue Demon King was engulfed, his body encased in glittering crystal, frozen mid-roar as he crashed into the earth like a fallen mountain of ice.
"The Heavenly Cold Xuanming Force..." he rasped faintly from within the ice.
Fang Han stood dumbstruck.
Within the Yellow Springs Diagram, Yan's voice trembled. "To freeze a thousand miles with a single gesture… this power—terrifying! Even that Demon Marshal Ying Tianqing couldn't do this. Whoever it is—Fang Han, I must hide myself completely. I'll invoke the Art of Oblivion; do not call for me. If they sense me, we're both doomed."
Then, laughter rang out from above.
"Haha! As expected of Senior Brother Hua! One move—'Snow Covering Heaven and Earth'—even a Demon King can't withstand it!"
"We're late again, it seems."
"Senior Brother Hua Tiandu's mastery of both the Panwu Divine Strength and Pure Yang power makes him unrivaled among all Feathered Gate disciples. Truly worthy of the title 'Central Heaven's Capital.'"
"In this campaign alone, he's slain over ten thousand demons. These last three thousand—and even the Demon King—are now his trophies."
"I heard that five years ago, the Emperor of the Great Xu Dynasty begged him to summon snow to bless the harvest. He blanketed eight thousand miles under three feet of snow—and the Emperor even offered his princess to serve him! Is that true?"
"Enough gossip. Let's descend and see for ourselves."
The voices drifted closer from the distant sky—each filled with awe and reverence.