Demon-Expelling Commandant

The traveling merchants quickly formed a circle, their blades and spears pointed outward.

The leader shouted fiercely, "Fiend, get out here!"

"Here I come..."

A cloyingly sweet voice drew nearer from afar, and a woman's figure floated toward them.

The woman had a lovely face. She was none other than the Yellow Weasel Spirit who had just fled.

Her clothes were thin, and as she flew through the air, places that could not be described inevitably showed.

"Shuanzi, the black dog blood!"

Sweat beaded on the leader's forehead. He took a leather pouch from his companion, twisted out the stopper, and squeezed hard.

Sssht!

A stream of black blood sprayed everywhere, filling the magnificent palace with a bloody stench.

"Mere mortal ants, yet you dare act so brazenly!"

The woman's hands became white-furred beast claws, with black nails over a foot long. She leaped, flashed forward, and reached for the leader's heart.

"Hah!"

The merchants roared in unison, bolstering their courage and gathering their strength as their blades and spears struck at the woman together.

With a ripping sound, the woman fell to the ground in several pieces and dissolved.

"Aah-"

The merchant named Shuanzi screamed. A blade wound half a foot long had appeared across his back.

"It's an illusion! An illusion! Don't strike rashly!"

The experienced leader shouted a warning.

"Heh heh heh..."

A strange laugh rang out. The woman who had just been cut into pieces appeared in the hall again, drifting to and fro.

"You're all going to die, especially you..."

The woman stared venomously at the leader and swore, "I'll tear out your heart, chew it to pieces, and swallow it bite by bite!"

As her words fell, she lunged at them again. Having learned from their earlier mistake, none of the merchants dared slash recklessly. They could only watch as her sharp claws left bloody marks on their companions.

In a head-on fight, the Yellow Weasel Spirit was little stronger than a fierce tiger or a wild wolf.

Unfortunately, they were trapped in an illusion, unable to distinguish truth from falsehood or substance from illusion.

Everything the merchants saw, felt, and heard might be false. Their blades and spears clearly struck empty air, yet their own companions suffered cuts, leaving them increasingly hamstrung.

"This one's real..."

"Fake, fake! This time it's fake!"

"Zhuzi's hurt! Be careful!"

Gripping his chopping knife tightly, the leader kept reciting the heart-calming mantra taught in Tales of the Executioner. He pulled some sheets of paper from his robe and leafed through them, searching for a way to break the illusion.

Zhou Yi and Du Si hid in a corner. The merchants instinctively assumed they lacked even the strength to truss a chicken, while the Yellow Weasel Spirit intended to deal with the troublesome merchants first.

Du Si trembled as he clutched his book chest. Seeing the merchants injured, he wanted to step forward and help.

"Don't move recklessly. There's someone beside you."

Spiritual light flickered in Zhou Yi's eyes. The illusion was utterly useless against him, and the Thunder Talisman in his hand was ready to activate at any moment.

The various folk remedies recorded in Tales of the Executioner were enough for the merchants to handle ordinary ghosts and spirits. Against demons skilled in illusions or proficient in spells, however, they were still no match.

With Zhou Yi hidden nearby, their lives were in no danger. Better to let them gain more practice fighting the demon race, so they would have more experience if they encountered one alone in the future.

Zhou Yi was no lofty saint. He could hardly sacrifice himself for others, bend his back to the task until his dying breath, or devote himself wholeheartedly to fighting for humanity's prosperity without regard for his own life.

Provided his life was not endangered, he was willing to do something for his fellow humans and spare them some of the harm inflicted by demons.

For instance, the Yellow Weasel Spirit before him barely qualified as ninth grade and was not even worthy of entering the Heaven-Class Prison. Zhou Yi could kill her with a single blow at any moment and save the merchants.

But if he saved them today, how would the merchants save themselves tomorrow, when Zhou Yi was not there?

Giving someone a fish was not as good as teaching them to fish.

Saving the world and its people did not necessarily require battling heaven and earth. More importantly, one should spread methods of averting calamity and escaping danger, giving people the ability to save themselves.

Zhou Yi had already entertained this vague idea while writing Tales of the Executioner. Now, after everything he had seen and heard along the road, and learning that many people had survived because of the book, his thoughts grew ever clearer.

Expecting ordinary people to defeat great demons is almost a pipe dream. Practicing martial arts and cultivating the Dao requires more than techniques: wealth, companions, methods, and a suitable place are all indispensable. Great demons and even demon kings have the court and the Demon-Slaying Bureau to suppress them, and ordinary people rarely encounter them. It's the minor demons of the lower third grade that harm people more often.

Tigers, leopards, jackals, and wolves kill through strength. People need to temper their courage and fight.

Foxes, weasels, ghosts, and spirits deceive people with illusions. People need to train their inner sight and perception.

Zhou Yi watched the merchants fight the Yellow Weasel Spirit. Drawing on the memory fragments he had obtained by searching demons' souls, he pondered ways ordinary people could counter demons, ghosts, and monsters.

There might be people in the world who understood demons better than Zhou Yi, but there were few.

The lofty immortals and Buddhas could easily slay demons and protect a region, but they would not deliberately search demons' souls to examine their memories, much less consider how to eliminate demons from a mortal's perspective.

Once I'm back at the Demon-Slaying Bureau, I'll experiment on more demons. There must be a way...

While Zhou Yi was pondering, another change occurred.

Screee-

The Yellow Weasel Spirit seemed to have tired of playing. A piercing shriek stabbed straight into their eardrums, leaving them dizzy.

Seizing the opportunity, she thrust both claws toward the leader's eyes. In this short time, she had already identified the merchants' linchpin. Once their leader died, the others' fighting spirit would surely plummet.

Zhou Yi was about to activate the Thunder Talisman and kill the demon when a deafening shout suddenly pierced the illusion.

"Fiend! Meet your death!"

The voice boomed like thunder. Cracks spread across the illusory palace like a shattered mirror, revealing the dilapidated mountain god temple.

Rumble-

Thunder rolled in through the cracks.

A streak of black light appeared out of nowhere, tore through the illusory palace, and lodged in a patch of empty space.

Boom!

A tremendous crash rang out.

The illusory palace shattered, and they were back in the mountain god temple.

Gales howled, and rain lashed the mountain.

A figure stood at the temple entrance. The lintel was lower than his head, his waist was half a foot wider than the doorframe, and black hair covered his face. He looked exactly like a bear in human form.

The "human bear" ducked his head, turned sideways, and squeezed into the temple.

Only in the firelight could they see that the newcomer wore black armor. His hair was casually tied in a bundle, and his beard covered his face so thickly that only half of his dark face remained visible.

A sword more than two palm-widths across hung on one side of his waist, an iron bow on the other. Seven or eight iron spears were slung diagonally across his back. He was armed to the teeth.

"Good sir, where have you come from?"

The leader felt that the newcomer was even more dangerous than the Yellow Weasel Spirit.

Ignoring him, the newcomer walked to the temple's rear wall and pulled out the iron spear embedded there.

Everyone followed his gaze and saw the Yellow Weasel Spirit hanging from the spear shaft, already dead.

Zhou Yi noticed the badge at the newcomer's waist and stepped forward, cupping his hands. "Zhou Yi, clerk of the Ministry of Works, Demon-Slaying Bureau."

"Hmm?"

The newcomer's eyes lit up, and his voice rumbled. "Yan Chixiao, Demon-Expelling Commandant!"

Zhou Yi examined him with his spiritual sight. Yan Chixiao had reached the Qi Refining realm, but unfortunately, his aura was muddy and mixed, suffused with killing intent. He could never condense a yin spirit; his path of cultivation had all but ended.

Hearing the name of the Demon-Slaying Bureau, the merchants immediately relaxed. Their fear vanished, replaced by praise that he was indeed a fine hero who slew demons.

With a physique like that, tearing tigers, leopards, jackals, and wolves apart with his bare hands would be child's play. Even monsters would fear meeting him.

The leader took out medicinal herbs to stop his injured companions' bleeding and bandage their wounds. However, the claw wounds had turned purple and black, and none of the antidotes he tried worked.

"This demon's poison is easy to cure."

Yan Chixiao stripped the Yellow Weasel Spirit off the spear shaft, drew a dagger, and chopped off her head and tail. After making several cuts around her limbs, he tore and pulled with both hands until only a little over a foot of flesh remained from the demon's body.

He skewered the demon's body on the spearhead and turned it over the campfire to roast.

"Hoo-"

Yan Chixiao blew on the fire. His breath roared like wind, as though a huge bellows had been added, and the flames instantly blazed.

He brushed on oil as he roasted it. Soon, the aroma of meat filled the mountain god temple, and the demon's body turned golden.

Yan Chixiao could not help licking his lips and swallowing before handing the iron spear to the merchants' leader.

"Have the poisoned men share it. They'll recover soon."

"Thank you. Thank you, sir."

The leader thanked him repeatedly and instinctively took the iron spear. His arms sank, and he nearly fell flat on the ground.

The iron spear was only four or five feet long, yet weighed over a hundred jin.

The poisoned merchants shared the roasted Yellow Weasel Spirit. Their purple-black wounds gradually reddened, and their breathing steadied.

"Commandant Yan, please sit."

Zhou Yi said, "Thank you for saving our lives, Commandant."

"It was no trouble. Slaying demons is my duty."

Yan Chixiao sat cross-legged beside the fire, yet he was still two inches taller than Du Si standing upright.