Chapter Twenty-Four: Slaying the Demon

Chen Fan stared intensely at the tiger beast, licking his lips ever so slightly. In his heart, he was eager to witness the tiger’s ferocious charge, and even more so to test his own skills against it.

“Stop staring, Chen Fan,” Chi Liuguang said, noticing his gaze and shaking his head as he patted Chen Fan’s shoulder. “That tiger beast is matched to challenge fourth-level martial artists. For those at the third level, it’s just an extra meal. Even I wouldn’t dare try it, and I’ve mastered the Subtle Step technique!”

Though Chi Liuguang himself possessed advanced footwork, he still did not dare to face a beast of a higher level. This alone proved how vast the gap was between each rank of these demon beasts.

Yet in Chen Fan’s heart, a strange intuition stirred: “If I could face that tiger, I’m certain my boxing technique would break through to the Subtle Mastery realm!”

Still, hearing Chi Liuguang’s words, he could not help but hesitate.

“My foundation is solid, my strength rivals that of a fifth-level martial artist, but I’ve never fought a demon beast before… I’d better start with a lesser one to test my abilities first. If I’m confident, I mustn’t let this opportunity pass.”

…

The Demon-Slaying Tournament began with the battles for those at the third level of martial arts.

Fully armored, Yin Hang approached the group of third-level disciples and explained, “Every year, Yandu City holds this tournament to temper its disciples. There are no restrictions on how you fight—the only rule is, if you can kill the demon beast, you win! If you find yourself outmatched, don’t bother surrendering—just jump from the ring. The beasts have been trained; anyone who dares leave the ring will be cut down by the Azure Python Army’s martial experts!”

“If you’re gravely wounded, lose your ability to fight, and can’t surrender, I’ll intervene to save you myself. Whether your life can truly be saved, however, depends on your own fate!”

Behind Yin Hang stood four tall martial artists, clad in heavy armor and brandishing great sabers.

The crowd of martial artists murmured among themselves, while Chen Fan’s eyes gleamed.

They claimed life and death were left to fate, but in reality, the humans had a significant advantage. Even if the demon beast survived, it could not leave the ring and would face a gauntlet of human challengers.

However, demon beasts possessed vigorous blood and stamina far exceeding that of their human counterparts; so long as they lived, their combat power barely waned.

Chen Fan thought to himself, “With rules this lenient, yet only a little more than twenty third-level martial artists dare to participate—it seems battling demon beasts truly is perilous in the extreme!”

…

The wheels rattled as a relatively small prison cart was pushed to the edge of the grand ring.

With a clatter, the chains fell away, and a gigantic ram, the size of a tiger, stepped onto the arena!

Its four legs were still bound in chains, restricting its movement.

But once on the stage, the ram reared up on its hind legs, two massive horns more intimidating even than a bull’s.

It did not move, but its blood-red eyes fixed upon the crowd below, brimming with a menacing aura.

Unlike the other demon beasts, this ram made no terrifying roar, yet its mere presence was enough to instill dread.

The four Azure Python Army guards stood at attention, their great sabers ready, eyes locked on the ram—should it try to leave the ring, it would be slain on the spot.

“Who will take on the first battle against the demon beast?” Yin Hang’s gaze swept over the twenty martial artists, his expression solemn.

The tournament had no set order; if any lost their nerve, they could withdraw early, but their entry fee would not be refunded.

The ranks of disciples fell silent.

Even Chen Fan held back for the moment, waiting for someone else to step up and test the waters.

After a long pause—

“I’ll go!” A burly, black-faced man in his late twenties or early thirties finally gritted his teeth and stepped forward.

He was not young for a third-level martial artist, clearly not a prodigy, but with age often came greater mastery of martial skills; among his peers, he was formidable.

“Good!” Yin Hang nodded, stepping aside to let the man ascend the ring.

For the first time, the ram turned its head, its gaze never leaving the black-faced man.

Demon beasts were less intelligent than humans, but far more cunning than ordinary animals.

The black-faced man gripped a long saber. Once on the stage, he did not attack recklessly, instead circling the ram with cautious steps.

The ram shifted, then suddenly stamped the ground.

Thud, thud, thud!

It charged at him!

Even with its limbs bound, the ram’s explosive force was terrifying, its speed astonishing.

From below, Chen Fan relaxed his brow; although fast, the ram’s speed was nothing compared to his own Three Thousand Thunderclap technique.

The black-faced man, seasoned as expected, did not panic. With nimble footwork, he dodged the ram’s assault, then took advantage of his weapon’s reach to land a strike.

He kept his distance, waiting for another opportunity.

It became a contest of rounds—one headbutt, one saber strike.

Slice!

Blade flashed, slashing the ram again and again.

But the saber, sharp as it appeared, could not inflict real harm; instead, it only enraged the beast further!

Its charges grew fiercer, its speed ever greater.

Sweat beaded on the man’s brow, his strength beginning to wane.

“Damn!” he cursed, as the ram suddenly spun and crashed its horns into his chest.

Boom!

He was thrown back by the impact, blood blooming across the arena.

Clang!

His saber flew from his grasp, tumbling out of the ring.

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

The ram, undeterred, charged the fallen man once more, its ebony horns aimed for the kill.

It opened its maw, revealing a row of razor-sharp fangs.

But at that instant, a figure flashed through the air.

With a whoosh, the man appeared before the ram, palm pressed down on its head.

Bang!

The beast’s head was forced to the ground, the very stage trembling. No matter how fiercely it struggled, it could not budge the hand restraining it.

It was Yin Hang.

From the high stands, countless spectators watched, hearts finally at ease.

Attendants rushed forward and carried the black-faced man down. His chest now bore a bowl-sized wound, blood gushing forth; he was unconscious.

“He’s still breathing! Get him treated, quickly!”

The martial artists all murmured anxiously.

He had nearly lost his life to a single blow.

Chen Fan’s gaze remained fixed on Yin Hang, full of awe.

Even with his own vision, all he had seen was a blur—Yin Hang had appeared out of nowhere, his speed astonishing!

Once the wounded disciple was safe, Yin Hang released the ram’s head.

The beast whimpered piteously, shrinking from Yin Hang and retreating to the edge of the ring.

Truly remarkable—this demon beast knew how to avoid danger, recognizing Yin Hang’s might.

Yin Hang frowned, looking toward the third-level disciples: “Who’s next?!”

They exchanged uneasy glances. The terrifying scene left many fearful, none daring to step forward.

Yin Hang had saved the previous challenger, but who could guarantee he would succeed again?

Chen Fan narrowed his eyes, hands itching as he watched the ram.

“I’ll go!” he called.

Yin Hang’s face showed approval. He turned to introduce Chen Fan to the crowd: “This is Chen Fan of the White Cloud Dojo, the youngest disciple participating in this Demon-Slaying Tournament!”

The young master of the Azure Python Army was a disciple of the White Cloud Dojo, and so Yin Hang was particularly familiar with its members.

The others, hearing Chen Fan’s name for the first time, were merely curious about his age, but thought nothing else of it.

Chen Fan nodded slightly and stepped forward.

Yin Hang frowned. “You’re unarmed, Chen Fan. Facing a demon beast empty-handed won’t be easy. Are you sure you don’t want a weapon?”

Chen Fan narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “General Yin, please lend me a longsword.”

Though his strongest technique was the Nine Suns Tiger King Fist, he had also trained in a leg technique and a sword style.

Both were at the beginner level, but this was a good chance to temper them in real combat.

…

The arena was packed, the atmosphere restless.

Lin Shiyu, Bao Tianyou, and others quickly noticed Chen Fan stepping up.

“It’s Junior Brother Chen Fan! He’s the second to fight!”

Those who knew him were both amazed and anxious for his safety.

Meanwhile, Chen Fan’s master, Dong Guzhi, fixed his sharp gaze on the ring. “Though Chen Fan has just reached the third level, he has a treasured inner armor for protection. As long as he’s not hit in the head, he won’t be in mortal danger.”

He knew Chen Fan had defeated core third-level disciples before, so he had faith in his strength.

…

Yin Hang’s attendants quickly brought a standard longsword for Chen Fan.

Having observed the previous match, Chen Fan was confident: though formidable, the beast was no match for him.

Sword in hand, he leapt onto the ring.

Gripping the sword, he advanced, taking the initiative!

Step by step, he moved, swift as thunder, closing in on the ram in a flash.

His sword danced.

“Flowing Cloud Swordplay!”

He had only just begun learning this style, not even a third of the way through, so its power depended entirely on his own strength.

With the Three Thousand Thunderclap, his speed was blazing.

Like a streak of lightning.

Slash!

Aimed at the beast’s face, he struck, and with the force of his charge, he sheared off half the ram’s mouth!

Blood spattered everywhere, and the ram howled in agony.

Chen Fan was momentarily stunned at the sword’s sharpness.

The ram stamped its feet, chains rattling, and charged like a bull, blood gushing as it moved.

But Chen Fan’s feet flickered—Three Thousand Thunderclap carried him away, instantly widening the distance.

But he frowned. “I’m fast, but not agile enough…”

His bodily energy fueled his advanced Thunderclap technique, and though his straight-line speed was unmatched, his ability to maneuver in tight quarters was lacking.

Had he evaded the ram’s counterattack more deftly and struck again, he might have beheaded it already.

Still, he was undeterred. He launched forward once more, closing in on the ram.

With the momentum of his charge, he unleashed the Flowing Cloud Swordplay.

Slash!

His steel sword drew more blood, slashing the ram again.

The beast, driven wild by pain, charged relentlessly, but every time it attacked, it was blocked by Chen Fan’s swordlight.

Slice after slice, the sword grew sharper, the assault fiercer.

After a cycle of his sword style—

Slash!

The ram was covered in wounds, its neck gashed several inches deep.

With a crash, it collapsed, unable to rise again.

A pool of blood spread across the arena, bright and gruesome.

Chen Fan stood with sword in hand as cheers erupted around him, but he merely raised an eyebrow.

His chest burned with excitement from the battle, his blood hotter than ever.

“This is nowhere near enough…”