General Quentin Shaw steadied himself, then said to Black Venerable: "The Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra does not interest the Imperial Preceptor."
Black Venerable lowered his eyelids, chuckling darkly: "If the Imperial Preceptor isn't interested, perhaps General Quentin Shaw is?"
Quentin Shaw's heart chilled. He knew that no matter what he said, he could not dispel this ruthless villain's wariness toward him.
An elderly man seated below Quentin Shaw lightly raised his white eyebrows and said, "I'm old, with not many days left to live, so I'd very much like to witness the legendary Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra said to make gods and demons. I hope the Cult Mistress and Black Venerable will oblige!"
"That can be arranged."
The Cult Mistress's beautiful eyes swept the room. She smiled and asked, "Who else wishes to see the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra?"
The Cult Mistress looked toward Felix Fu. "What about the City Lord?"
Felix Fu laughed heartily, "Mistress, don't take offense. I have no particular designs on the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra—I'm simply curious to see the so‑called god‑and‑demon‑making art and compare notes. I bear no ill will toward you, Mistress; in fact, I feel some pity and admiration. The Cult of the Heavenly Demon has pursued you for so long, ruthlessly, and you stand alone. I'd like to help share your burdens."
Quinn Shepherd blinked, his gaze sweeping over each of the gathered powerhouses. In Town‑River Pavilion, everyone expressed interest in the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra, and precisely because of that, all of them hesitated—no one dared make the first move against the Cult Mistress.
Because even if they seized the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra from the Cult Mistress, they themselves would become the target of everyone present!
The Cult Mistress, eyes sparkling, suddenly let out a soft laugh and opened her slender jade hand, revealing a jade box: "Inside is the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra, its seals placed by generations of cult masters."
The atmosphere in Town-River Pavilion grew suffocating. Quinn Shepherd instantly felt several terrifying auras lock onto him, and Lynn Ling let out a muffled groan. These auras weren't aimed at them, but at the Cult Mistress beside them—yet because they sat so close, Quinn and Lynn Ling were caught in the crossfire!
The Cult Mistress was unconcerned. She opened the jade box; a faint melody seemed to drift out, and then a thread, like a spirit snake, poked its head out and slowly rose.
"It's truly the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra!"
Black Venerable tapped his cane and said sternly, "Mistress, please put it away!"
Quinn Shepherd's expression turned odd as he leaned closer to peer at the jade box, feeling a strange sense of absurdity. What lay inside was clearly not the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra, but the very same ball of thread Granny Sue always kept in her sewing basket!
He remembered that ball of thread—Granny Sue would keep it in her basket, wound around a jade hairpin, and now the hairpin was inside the box. When he was little, Granny Sue would put him in the basket while she sewed. Once, unable to hold it in, Quinn even relieved himself in the basket, fouling the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra with a stench.
"She really is Granny Sue!"
The boy could only laugh and cry inside: "So that's why Granny didn't stay at the inn—she dressed herself up so beautifully just to show off and have some fun..."
The Cult Mistress ignored Black Venerable entirely. The thread kept rising higher and higher, then suddenly swelled, growing thicker and thicker. When it reached the width of a bucket, everyone's expression changed—because that 'thread' was actually a miraculous text formed from countless tiny characters!
Countless characters formed circles, each outer layer wrapping the inner, layer upon layer—so many that when shrunk to the limit, they looked like a mere thread.
This was the Cult of the Heavenly Demon's town-sect demonic classic—the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra!
"It's genuine—surely none of you doubt it now?"
Suddenly, the countless characters shrank again, turning back into a thread and returning to the jade box.
The Cult Mistress closed the jade box, resealing it with the talismans of generations of cult masters. Smiling sweetly, she said, "But if you wish to see it, you should think carefully. Anyone who glimpses the Cult of the Heavenly Demon's town-sect classic becomes the cult's enemy—the cult will no longer hunt me, but will hunt all of you to the death. Who among you will take the box?"
The crowd's expressions changed drastically. Though the jade box lay before them, not a single person dared touch it!
General Quentin Shaw's expression flickered. Others might fear the Cult of the Heavenly Demon, but he did not—no matter how strong the cult, it could never oppose the entire Everpeace Empire. Yet if he took the jade box, he would become the target of all, and might not even make it out of the City Lord's Manor alive.
The others had the same thought—even Felix Fu hesitated, unable to decide.
The Cult Mistress watched their faces with amusement. She relished seeing these arrogant powerhouses so troubled—this was her kind of fun.
The pavilion fell silent. Just then, Quinn Shepherd stretched and stood up: "I'm full! Lynn, thanks for bringing me here for a good meal. City Lord, do I have to pay for eating here?"
He broke the silence, making the atmosphere lively again. The crowd looked at him, some amused, some bemused—clearly a country boy, unused to city ways, coming here for a free meal and even asking Felix Fu if he charged for it.
Felix Fu coughed, easing the awkwardness, and said, "A guest is a guest. Since I invited everyone, even if you weren't on the guest list, I won't charge you."
Quinn Shepherd beamed, his smile bright as sunlight: "You won't charge me, City Lord, but I can't just not pay. I don't have much money—will a hundred Dragoncrest coins do? Wait a moment, I'll go kill someone and pay you after I win."
Felix Fu frowned, but before he could reply, Quinn strode out of Town-River Pavilion, stepped onto the lake, and walked toward the platform in the middle. He called out, "Terry Fu, I heard abandoned people can fight here for a hundred Dragoncrest coins. I'm one of them, so I'll give it a try."
His steps were unhurried, but in just a few strides he reached the platform and looked at the youth opposite him.
On the platform, the bloodstains of the abandoned youth killed by Terry Fu were still fresh. Slaves tossed the corpse into the lake and washed the platform clean.
Large fish in the lake churned the water, fighting over the youth's remains.
Quinn Shepherd planted his feet, facing the youth across from him. Terry Fu was his age, but his features were cold and vicious—a youth shaped by countless killings.
The youth was sizing him up, eyes glinting with a beast's ferocity.
The pavilion fell silent again. The hall was filled with renowned experts, all possessing great abilities and vast experience, yet none had expected Quinn Shepherd would challenge Terry Fu, the acknowledged number one Spirit Embryo martial artist, just to earn a hundred Dragoncrest coins to pay Felix Fu for his meal!
Such courage...
Elder Hundred-Virtues sighed, "A youth this bold rarely lives to adulthood—most die at this age."
Felix Fu smiled, "The matter of the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra remains undecided, but now we have an unexpected spectacle. Why don't we watch this first, and settle the scripture's fate afterward? Cult Mistress, what do you think?"
The Cult Mistress smiled sweetly, "I'm just a weak woman—how could I have any opinion?"
Lynn Ling gritted her teeth, wanting to get up and drag Quinn back, but Quentin Shaw coughed—a warning—so she had to sit down.
On the lake platform.
A middle-aged man approached, holding a tray with a money pouch. Terry Fu raised his brows, "There's a hundred Dragoncrest coins in the pouch. If you beat me, you can take it. Over the past three years, at least a thousand have tried—none have taken the pouch."
Quinn thought for a moment, then asked, "Are you the number one martial artist in Dragoncrest City?"
Terry Fu smiled arrogantly and nodded, "I'm the acknowledged number one. Within a thousand li of Dragoncrest City, among all martial artists, I'm first! I've killed countless fighters in duels—not relying on my father's reputation. Anyone defeated by me has never survived!"
Quinn nodded lightly, "Will you use a weapon?"
Terry Fu clasped his hands behind his back and smiled, "You may use a weapon if you wish. I'm indifferent. If I want to use a weapon, I can do so at any time."
Zheng! With a clear ring, the butcher's knife howled through the air and landed in Quinn's hand.
He didn't rely on the refined "turn qi into silk" technique, but on resonance—his yuanqi and the blade sensed each other, attracting like magnets!
His yuanqi surged ever wilder, ever fiercer—the same state as when he slew the giant serpent!
The angrier he grew, the wilder his yuanqi, the stronger the resonance, the sharper the blade!
Yet Quinn's expression was utterly calm—a cold exterior hiding a wild, untamed heart.