Chapter 83: The Demon General Fuyao Reveals Her True Form

"Is that so?"

Evening Grace lightly flicked the sword in her hand, thin as a cicada’s wing, and said with a touch of disdain, “It seems you won’t turn back until you hit a wall. Let me see for myself this so-called Yin-Yang Sleeve of yours!”

No sooner had she spoken than Evening Grace twisted her slender waist with a graceful motion, her entire body gliding forward with the inner strength of her protective energy, drifting toward the floating Antlered Fiend like a willow in the wind.

“Just in time!”

The Antlered Fiend’s face was grave as he gave a low shout. With a powerful flick, his seemingly ordinary Taoist robe conjured an astonishing suction force, surging toward Evening Grace with relentless speed.

Evening Grace was already gliding swiftly in his direction, and now, caught by the pull of his robe, her body was dragged forward with even greater momentum, utterly beyond her control.

“So he does have some skill,” she thought, glancing at the gaping black sleeve. “His cultivation is mediocre, yet he’s mastered this trick of a world within a sleeve. No wonder he defeated the Mountain Sprite in a single move—he truly has some real ability.”

When she was still about three meters from the robe, several sharp wind blades suddenly sprang from the inky darkness of its opening. They wove themselves into a tangible, slicing net, lunging to ensnare her as she flew helplessly forward.

If she didn’t halt her motion now, she would surely be torn to pieces by the wind-blade net.

An ordinary person might have been struck senseless by such a sudden change, but she was the daughter of the God of War, Brahma Immortal—how could she fall so easily?

As the sword net drew near, a rare and formidable energy—the Primal Void Astral Qi—burst forth from within her, enveloping her entire form.

The instant her protective aura solidified, the sword net whistled toward her, slicing at her from every direction like a merciless grinder.

Yet Evening Grace remained perfectly composed, a trace of a smile even playing on her lips, as if she regarded the approaching sword net as nothing of concern.

Such composure in the face of imminent catastrophe was not something an ordinary being could possess.

A few faint hissing sounds rang out as the sword net struck the shield of astral energy around her. The clash of powers produced a sound that made one’s heart itch with unease, but the net of wind blades failed to cause her the slightest injury.

Under the dominance of her astral aura, the sword net struggled for mere seconds before shattering completely, vanishing into the night with a series of shrill cries, swept away by the evening breeze.

Looking at Evening Grace now, her lips still bore a faint smile. The danger of being sucked into the robe seemed beneath her notice.

“Hmm?”

The Antlered Fiend was startled to see his usually unstoppable wind blades have no effect whatsoever. But before he could react, Evening Grace’s petite figure was whisked into the narrow, brown sleeve like a whirlwind.

Aside from the Antlered Fiend floating mid-air, not a trace of Evening Grace remained under the night sky.

This Yin-Yang Sleeve technique was truly formidable. To be able to trap a living person inside such a narrow sleeve, as if it were nothing at all!

“Sister…”

The child who had been snatched away began to wail loudly upon seeing Evening Grace swallowed by the robe.

As for the injured Mountain Sprite, he had already taken the pill Evening Grace had given him and now sat quietly, tending his wounds, paying no heed to what transpired.

The Antlered Fiend let out a cold chuckle, his body drifting down to the clearing below like a dead leaf.

Once his feet touched the ground, he glanced around before fixing his gaze impatiently on the sobbing child. “Brat, if you don’t stop crying, I’ll butcher you right here!”

The child paid no heed, weeping all the harder, tears and snot streaming down his face.

“You dare cry still?”

The fiend, annoyed, strode over and slapped the child, whose crying finally ceased out of fear. Yet the tears and snot continued to fall, like pearls from a broken string—a pitiful and absurd sight.

By now, the Mountain Sprite had finished tending his wounds. The bleeding in his abdomen and arm had already begun to heal, and his strength was nearly restored to seventy or eighty percent. Though he still could not match the Antlered Fiend, escape was certainly within his power, given the unique agility of his kind.

“Where is that celestial maiden from earlier?” he asked, standing slowly and fixing the Antlered Fiend with a suspicious gaze.

“In my Yin-Yang Sleeve!” the fiend replied smugly, shaking the sleeve’s opening. He sneered, “I thought you’d brought a powerful ally, but she’s nothing but a pretty face—useless, really.”

The Mountain Sprite sighed, shaking his head. “To think I tried to save someone tonight, only to bring about two more deaths. Is the Feathered God Tribe truly doomed?”

“I needn’t kill you, you know,” the fiend mused, casting a sly glance at the tearful child. “Mountain Sprite, if you’re willing to join me in serving Lord Soaring Cloud, I’ll spare your life. Together, we could raid the Feathered God Tribe as we please. What do you say?”

The Mountain Sprite hesitated briefly, then a thought flashed through his mind. Since he couldn’t defeat the fiend now, why not feign cooperation and seize the chance to rescue the celestial maiden? United, they could surely slay this monster.

So he laughed heartily, “Perhaps I could work with you. But you must tell me—who exactly is this Lord Soaring Cloud, and why is he so intent on capturing people from the Feathered God Tribe?”

“Forgive me, but that is Lord Soaring Cloud’s secret. I cannot say more for now,” replied the ever-cautious fiend.

“Hmph!” The Mountain Sprite snorted, feigning offense. “If you want to be teammates, we must be open with each other. Otherwise, how can I serve faithfully when I don’t even know what I’m doing?”