Chapter Forty-One: The Clan of the Dead

The cloud vessel began to descend, and the winds surged upwards. Suddenly, the gusts shifted from pouring in to sucking out, the powerful force howling fiercely. One small demon, unable to grasp anything firmly, was instantly swept up and hurtled toward the hatch. He cried out in a shrill voice, kicking desperately, but caught nothing.

As he neared the hatch, he reached desperately for the browless man, who did not so much as flinch; instead, he shifted his body slightly, deftly avoiding the demon’s flailing limbs, watching with amused interest as the creature was flung from the cabin, screaming as he plummeted below.

There were still ten thousand blades of height between the vessel and the ground—such a fall meant certain death.

The man gripped the edge of the cabin, leaning out eagerly to watch, only withdrawing when the screams faded. Smacking his lips with relish, he suddenly laughed, “Filthy thing, managed to be first!”

“In that case, who will be second?”

The other demons turned pale with terror, and the man’s laughter grew louder, echoing through the clouds and raging winds.

Yet he did not throw anyone out himself; after flying a while longer and descending to just over ten yards from the ground, he finally spoke again, ordering the demons at the front to jump out one by one. There was neither order nor regulation—he simply had them jump, one after another, every few breaths.

Some hesitated, attempting to retreat, but the man said nothing, reaching out to snatch them forward and fling them out, sending them tumbling from heights even greater than those who leaped of their own accord.

Yanfeng, positioned deep within the cabin, was meant to be last. All could only wait, and as the vessel soared westward, the distance grew ever greater.

At that moment, Shih Xingyi squeezed forward from among the demons, leaning close to the browless man’s ear and whispering low. The man frowned, then suddenly pointed toward Liu Chou, shouting, “You, come here—jump!”

Liu Chou heard the call and pushed through, as Qingmei behind him moved her lips, wanting to speak, but ultimately remaining silent.

Shih Xingyi began to push his way back, and as they brushed shoulders, he murmured, “The highest mountain.” The words were nearly inaudible, but Liu Chou nodded slightly and parted ways.

He understood: Shih Xingyi was telling him that the cloud vessel had stopped beside the highest peak in the east of the floating island. He silently noted this favor, glanced back once, then leapt from the vessel, plunging into the dense forest below.

Liu Chou kept his arms close to his sides, dropping straight down, letting the leaves and paper-thin branches whip his face. Only at the moment of landing did he suddenly tighten his body, rolling forward, converting the tremendous force of his descent into momentum that sent him tumbling several yards, smashing through clusters of shrubbery before finally coming to a halt.

He rose, determined the direction of the cloud vessel, raised his brow, silently unfastened the iron rod from his back, transformed it into a divine weapon, and hurried eastward.

A thousand miles in three days—not just for Liu Chou, but for most demons, this was no hardship. Many agile demons could reach their destination in a single day; the key to this trial was not the travel, but the corpse tribe scattered throughout the wilderness. With his extra ears, Liu Chou had an advantage.

He chose to move by leaping through the trees. Although it cost more energy, it was far safer; danger always lurked on the ground, and if it could be avoided, he would not risk it.

He was racing ahead when suddenly he heard a piercing, mournful howl from up ahead. Liu Chou’s heart stirred; he immediately softened his steps, creeping toward the source of the scream. He had no intention of rescuing anyone—he simply wanted to see what had transpired.

To Liu Chou, this floating island was still a mystery.

He slipped through the dense forest and stood quietly. He heard faint, intricate noises—though low, they were busy and chaotic, as if something was working fervently. Liu Chou dared not be careless; he leapt lightly, crouched, and landed silently upon a branch a yard above his head.

Everything ahead was revealed.

On the ground several yards away was a mass of lush vines, and through the gaps Liu Chou glimpsed a massive blue ox demon lying prone. The vines grew from a pale stone beside the ox, writhing over the corpse, occasionally stabbing sharp tips into the body and sucking, sending streams of flesh and blood, like viscous pulp, through the vines to the stone.

The vines fed voraciously, their bodies undulating, even faint streams of blood seeping and dripping down.

Liu Chou watched the vines and the white stone, and suddenly his heart stirred. He raised his hand and sent a swirl of sand and earth flying.

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The sand whirled. The blue ox’s corpse was covered in vines that suddenly rose, each like a venomous snake, arching upward. Only then did Liu Chou see the stone twist and stretch, then stand—slowly, grotesquely.

It was something vaguely human, but headless, the vines all sprouting from its neck cavity—a sight both bizarre and chilling.

After a moment, sensing nothing amiss, the creature bent again, the vines retracting, and resumed sucking at the blue ox’s flesh.

Suddenly, Liu Chou’s body flew through the air, landing on the creature’s head. His iron rod weapon swept down like a falling meteor, striking the neck with thunderous speed.

The vines reacted faster than Liu Chou expected—within an instant, several shot forth like arrows to intercept the blow. With a sharp splintering sound, the vines shattered, unable to slow the iron rod’s momentum. Amid a spray of flesh and blood, the divine weapon struck true!

The monster’s slowly turning body collapsed, limp, the vines writhing briefly before falling and dying.

Liu Chou gauged the strength of this demon—roughly that of an ordinary fourth-tier minor demon. He wondered if all the corpse tribe in the forest were like this; if there were stronger ones, kings or ministers, victory would be difficult.

He prodded the vines with his rod, discovering they only resembled plants. In truth, they were segments like shrimp legs or scorpion tails, jointed and hollow, covered in moss and lichen. Then, Liu Chou turned the white stone-like corpse over—

Suddenly, a sharp sense of danger surged through him, needle-like and urgent, causing his whole body to tremble. He instinctively flipped away, landing on a nearby tree, then leaping to another.

In midair, Liu Chou saw a human head below—a neck of jointed vines wrapped around the trunk, raising the head, its mouth slowly opening, icy and cold, tracking his movements.

Could this be the monster’s head?

Since he’d spotted it, he could act. Liu Chou was already close; he twisted, bent his legs, and kicked hard, using the force to arc toward the tree trunk beside the monster’s head. Its mouth had barely opened before it shifted to shock.

With a sweeping blow, not only the head but the entire tree was cut down, crashing noisily to the ground.

Liu Chou landed, rolling nearly three more yards.

He looked at the iron rod, now smeared with greenish fluid. A flick of the wrist sent the liquid flying off. Glancing at the corpse, Liu Chou saw the white stone-like body had developed bluish corpse spots, decaying swiftly, releasing a foul stench.

He touched the corpse lightly, thinking, “Collect!”

No reaction—not a trace of elemental energy within these corpse tribe bodies, just as he’d heard. The Demon Refining Vessel was useless here.

Liu Chou wasted no more time on the monster, reorienting himself and heading east. Unable to refine these creatures, combat could be avoided unless absolutely necessary, regardless of their strength.

...

About half an hour after Liu Chou departed, a group of corpse tribe appeared before the fallen tree. There were seven or eight, all deathly pale, but their heads were firmly attached to their bodies. The joints grew from the seams at the neck, coiling around to form a bone-jointed armor.

Moreover, they wielded weapons—various lengths, jagged and grotesque, made of segments of spine.

The corpse tribe searched the area around the white stone corpse, hissing in anger.

A shadow emerged from the darkness—Tu Hu, his face twisted with ferocity.

He wore refined armor, wielding a long blade, its edge golden, its body blood-hued, blue light rippling along the blade in the wind. With a single glance, he charged, slashing toward the nearest corpse tribe.

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That corpse warrior was extremely alert. As Tu Hu moved, it twisted and screamed.

With a slash, Tu Hu’s blade cut across the corpse warrior’s neck. The strength of the bone-joint armor exceeded Tu Hu’s expectations; such a sharp weapon only sliced through two layers, leaving a faint blood mark but failing to sever the neck.

But Tu Hu immediately drew another blade, this time aiming for the head. With a horizontal sweep, he sliced off half the creature’s skull.

The others surged forward, swinging their spine weapons, but Tu Hu was fearless. His twin blades whirled like a tornado, slaying half in an instant. The remaining half howled and fled, but Tu Hu pursued and killed them all.

Then he approached the corpse Liu Chou had slain.

The body was now only bones, the flesh dissolved into green-white foam and slime, stench overwhelming the area.

Tu Hu was unfazed. He crouched nearby, reached into his armor, and took out a small wooden box. Opening it, he removed a tiny insect—beetle-shaped, with eight long legs, a protruding nose like the horn of a future rhinoceros beetle, its tip swollen and open, hissing.

Its name was Guai Zai—a creature for seeking scents, tracking enemies.

Even Guai Zai seemed reluctant to approach the stench, inching hesitantly. Tu Hu drew a slender needle from the side of the box and poked the insect’s tail. Guai Zai squealed, quickly circled the corpse fluids, then stopped, raising a forelimb to point in a direction.

It pointed precisely toward where Liu Chou had departed.

Satisfied, Tu Hu put Guai Zai back in the box and hurried after him.

Meanwhile, aboard the cloud vessel—

More and more demons had jumped off. Shih Xingyi was resting when Fei Fei drew close and whispered, “This is bad!”

Shih Xingyi’s eyes snapped open. “What’s wrong?”

“Just now, Ban Nu reported seeing a small demon wrapped in a kudzu robe jump from the cloud vessel. When the wind shifted, he glimpsed a pair of iron-clad boots and mottled armor on the legs, colored like clustered clouds…”

Shih Xingyi’s face changed. “The Imperial Forest Armor?”

Fei Fei inhaled deeply and nodded. “It must be him.”

If Tu Hu had truly snuck aboard and leapt with the demons, his purpose was clear.

Shih Xingyi’s expression darkened, then he gritted his teeth. “In that case, I’ll go see. You report to the Valley Master from the vessel.”

He rose and squeezed to the front, leaping off the floating island. The browless man at the hatch stared, then burst into applause and laughter.

“Haha, one goes to die, another follows—wonderful, wonderful!”

In his excitement, he grabbed several more demons and flung them out, laughing unrestrainedly.