"Who exactly are you, woman...?"
"This King bears no grudge against you. Why are you trying to kill me?!"
"If you leave now, this King will pretend nothing happened. Otherwise, this King is no easy mark—I have plenty of ways to deal with you." Wind Howl Demon yapped threats, putting on a fierce face while weak at heart. It had little persuasive power; he was merely buying time.
Seeing that Wind Howl Demon was at a disadvantage, White Dragon said coldly, "A relic of the Sect Gate has been lost outside—a śarīra. I came under my master's orders to find it. Did you, demon, take it for yourself?"
What the hell was that—a śarīra?
Wind Howl Demon's anger flared. Stamping his feet, he said, "If you're looking for śarīra, go to Lotus Zen Monastery! Those bald donkeys have as many as you want. You said it yourself—I'm a demon. Why would I hide your sect's śarīra?!"
The grief and frustration in his words made it clear that he was not lying. He truly knew nothing of the śarīra's whereabouts.
"You truly don't know?"
"If this King has hidden one, may Heaven strike me with five thunderbolts!" Wind Howl Demon had been playing with beauties and singing songs when, for no reason at all, he got beaten half to death. He could not have felt more miserable.
White Dragon nodded to herself. There were no clues to the śarīra here... but what was this powerful intuition? Once one's cultivation reached the innate level, every feeling had a cause behind it; it would never arise from nothing.
"Even if you don't know, that doesn't mean the other demons under your command don't. If you want to live today, call every last one of them here." White Dragon advanced with her sword in