Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Golden-Crested Roc

Before long, the Roc Demon King and the Tiger Demon King were locked in a fierce and brutal battle, with countless lesser demons perishing below. The Tiger Demon Valley was strewn with dead and wounded, and the sky teemed with avian soldiers, while the ground was littered with beastly troops—nearly half on both sides had been wiped out.

As the saying goes, to kill a thousand enemies is to lose eight hundred of your own.

This great clash between the two demon factions had severely depleted their strength, which presented Yang Nan with the perfect opportunity to eradicate them in one fell swoop. If he missed this chance, either of the demon kings would be more than he could handle alone.

Seeing that the battle was nearly decided, Yang Nan turned and said with a smile, “The play has reached its climax; now it is our turn to take the stage. Lady Haitang, Brother Chiyang, Fellow Daoist Monkey, Fellow Daoist Su—each of you intercept one of the demon king’s generals. Brother Yang, lead the ghostly soldiers to block the skies above the Demon Valley. The rest of the disciples and demon troops will split into two teams and scour the valleys to wipe out the demon scourge. Give it your all! Let not a single demon escape the net!”

The others, seeing the fierce, murderous determination on Yang Nan’s face, felt a chill in their hearts and saluted in unison. “We obey!”

With hands clasped behind his back, Yang Nan stepped onto his sinister ghostly blade and soared into the sky toward the Tiger Demon Valley. The others did not dare dawdle—those who could ride clouds did so, those adept with sword-flight mounted their blades, and all followed after him.

The Roc Demon King’s feathers were in disarray, his aura dimmed, and one of his talons was broken—his injuries were grave. The Tiger Demon King fared even worse: his white fur had been nearly plucked clean, one of his four paws was shattered, and blood streamed from his brow as he lay on the ground, barely clinging to life.

In a contest of cultivation, the Roc Demon King had proven superior; though he was heavily wounded, the Tiger Demon King’s end was imminent.

In the distance, the Eagle Demon King and the Horse Demon King were likewise locked in vicious combat, their feathers and hair in tatters, their bodies drenched in blood, yet neither would yield.

The Roc Demon King, unleashing his might, finally brought down the Tiger Demon King and, just as he was about to finish him off, a voice laughed from overhead, “Today, Great Roc King, you at last avenge the theft of your mate. Truly, this is cause for celebration.”

The voice was clear and pleasant, yet carried a subtle mocking tone. The Roc Demon King turned in fury and saw a young Daoist in azure robes, standing aloft on a strange crescent blade. It must have been he who spoke. All around, dense ranks of demon soldiers had appeared from who knew where, indiscriminately cutting down the demons of both valleys. The exhausted demon troops, weary from prolonged battle, were helpless before this fresh force. In an instant, the valleys were filled with wails and howls of misery.

Within the Tiger Valley ranks, many threw down their arms and defected. The loyal subordinates of the Tiger Demon King could not withstand the onslaught, and chaos reigned as the demon troops scattered in all directions—a rout as total and irreversible as a mountain collapsing.

The Eagle Demon King and the Horse Demon King were intercepted and mercilessly beset by the Monkey Demon King and the Tree Demon King. The Monkey Demon’s Heaven-Pillar Staff and the Tree Demon’s Tricolor Moli Tree displayed their full might, the staff transforming into a colossal pillar to sweep all before it, and the glowing tree trapping the two demons as if in a prison.

Above, amidst a mass of dark clouds, Yang Liancheng, the Mountain God, led his ghostly soldiers, blotting out the sky. Any avian demon attempting escape was met with a thousand spears and blades, descending in unison.

Heaven and earth were sealed—a net from which none could flee.

With fresh, high-spirited troops against exhausted foes, the outcome was clear.

At this point, how could the Roc Demon King not understand? He let out a series of harsh, bitter laughs. “Well, well, well! So, a disciple of Kunlun has been plotting against us all along!”

He was no fool—though two thousand years of cultivation had not made him as cunning as a human, it had led him to this fate.

Yang Nan saluted with empty hands and replied, smiling, “I dare not claim so much. Your Majesty’s power is overwhelming; this paltry Daoist could not hope to match it without resorting to such means. I beg your forgiveness.”

If he had not used cunning, how could Yang Nan have gained the upper hand? He did not deny it.

History is written by the victors; what shame is there in admitting to strategy?

—

The Roc Demon King, hearing Yang Nan’s admission, shook his head with a sigh. “Had I known you had such a mind, I would have regretted sparing the Jade Purity Hall for fear of Kunlun. To nurture a tiger is to invite disaster!”

Though severely wounded, the Roc Demon King knew Yang Nan would not show mercy. What use was there in pleading?

Yang Nan, seeing the demon king’s regret, nodded inwardly. Though the Roc was proud, he was no fool—only lacking in ruthlessness. If their positions were reversed, Yang Nan would not have hesitated. Rather than passive defense, it would have been better to attack first, even if it meant a life of pursuit and exile.

With the Roc Demon King’s two millennia of mastery over wind and his innate gifts, in his prime, who could hope to catch him? Not even Kunlun’s highest warriors!

Yang Nan’s companions engaged the demon generals: the Tree Demon King against the Eagle, the Monkey King against the Horse. The Flower Demon Queen stood aside, watching the Roc hungrily, as her endless hallucinogenic powders filled the air. The Jade Purity Hall’s party, having taken the antidote, was unaffected, but the demon troops of the valleys fell even faster.

In such conditions, could the Roc Demon King hope to escape?

“You dare scheme against me, Daoist? Then come and take your death!” With a roar, the Roc Demon King let loose a piercing shriek that shook the heavens. Every azure feather on his body stood on end, each one like a drawn bow, aimed at Yang Nan. Each feather bristled with deadly, metal-piercing force, freezing the very air.

The aura was terrifying, as if a thousand elite archers had their crossbows trained on him, but the azure feathers were deadlier than any weapon on earth.

“Featherstorm!” Yang Nan’s heart skipped a beat. The Blacklight Ring flashed, and a thousand demon soldiers, armed to the teeth, appeared around him. With a quick gesture, Yang Nan transformed them into streams of white light that poured into his own body.

When the blinding light faded, a monstrous demon stood before the Roc King—ten stories tall, horned and fearsome, wielding a chilling crescent blade that shimmered with the luster of obsidian, like a black serpent baring its fangs.

Yang Nan, now in demon form, strode forward like a tiger descending the mountain.

The Roc Demon King’s strength was all but spent. Facing a body and weapon of such caliber, Yang Nan was sure of victory.

“Supreme demon form! A king’s weapon!” Only now did the Roc Demon King realize that the Daoist, whose power had once been far beneath his own, possessed such terrifying gifts.

But flight was no longer an option. With a bellow, he unleashed a torrent of feathers, each infused with wind magic, their speed like lightning.

A curtain of azure feathers swept toward Yang Nan—there would be no dodging this ultimate technique.

“Transform—Three Thousand Ghost Serpents!” Yang Nan swept his crescent blade, releasing a dense cloud of black mist, which coalesced into thousands of black serpents to intercept the rain of feathers. Each serpent twisted and writhed with deadly agility.

Three thousand black serpents—three thousand razor-sharp threads.

Steel clashed with steel, and though many feathers were severed, the onslaught was overwhelming. Even blocking with his fists, Yang Nan was struck by a hundred arrows, each one brimming with deadly force, driving him back dozens of steps. His giant demon body was now bristling with feathers and drenched in blood—a terrifying sight. A hundred of his guardian demon soldiers perished at once.

Such was the power of a true grandmaster’s full-strength blow—even with his supreme demon form and weapons, Yang Nan could not withstand it head-on.

“Die! Serpent Army, strike!” Yang Nan thundered, stomping through the air. The three thousand ghost serpents coiled into a massive black serpent, which twisted in midair and struck at the Roc Demon King with the force of a living beast.

—

A great crescent blade gleamed, radiating black light.

After the grueling duel with the Tiger Demon King, even a grandmaster’s spiritual power was all but exhausted. Yang Nan knew this was his chance—if he missed it, his own death would come soon enough.

The Roc Demon King opened his beak wide, spitting forth his Wind and Thunder Pearl, which unleashed a barrier of storm and lightning, barely fending off the black serpent’s assault.

“Take this!” Yang Nan’s fists crashed down with mountain-shattering force, sending the Roc Demon King flying.

“Petals like rain!” Not far away, Lady Haitang brandished a fresh blossom and cried out. With a graceful wave, she conjured a cascade of rainbow petals, each as sharp as a blade, which encircled the Roc Demon King and began slicing at him as if by a thousand blades.

With his feathers gone, the Roc Demon King had lost his last protection. He reverted to human form, brandishing his Azure Feather Sword to hack at the petals. But they were too numerous and swift—each left a bloody gash, and his protective aura weakened by the moment. Within moments, his remaining power had dwindled to less than a tenth of its former strength.

“Scatter! Bewitching Incense Powder!” The Flower Demon Queen showed no mercy to her former companion. With a wave of her dainty fingers, a cloud of strange, intoxicating powder drifted out, spreading like a fragrant mist. This was her signature toxin, harvested from the Seven-Star Haitang, deadly and irresistible; any who inhaled would be lost.

Yang Nan, delighted by her prowess, summoned his weapon to form a great black serpent net, ensnaring the Wind and Thunder Pearl. Thousands of little black serpents bit fiercely at the pearl, seeking to shatter it.

If he could break the Roc Demon King’s life-bound treasure, the demon would be utterly helpless.

But the Wind and Thunder Pearl was formidable, unleashing gales and thunderbolts that made the black serpents tremble.

Covetous, Yang Nan compressed the serpents tighter, forming a solid sphere that enveloped the pearl, rendering it immobile.

‘Such a treasure, once refined, will be a great boon,’ he thought gleefully.

Waving his hand, Yang Nan recalled his weapon, cradling the black sphere containing the Wind and Thunder Pearl. He turned to the Roc Demon King and smiled. “A gift from you, worthy king. I shall not refuse.”

In the midst of his desperate battle with the Flower Demon Queen, the Roc Demon King suddenly laughed aloud. “Foolish child! You think you can claim my life-bound weapon? Such greed leads only to your own destruction.”

The Flower Demon Queen cried out, “Be careful! Release the Wind and Thunder Pearl immediately!” Seeing Yang Nan attempt to seize the demon king’s soul-tied treasure, her face went pale with alarm.

Just then, Yang Nan sensed an overwhelming, terrifying energy emanate from the pearl—as if he were holding a thunder god’s bomb, ready to explode.

As he prepared to hurl the pearl away, the Roc Demon King let out a furious cry and transformed into his true form—a Roc dozens of yards in length, shrieking into the sky. Thunder rumbled in response, and the Wind and Thunder Pearl in Yang Nan’s hand blazed with blinding light, bursting forth like a miniature sun.

The power was unstoppable; the three thousand black threads could not contain the raging storm. A massive breach was torn open, and a dazzling thundercloud surged toward Yang Nan.

Thunder crashed, shaking the heavens.