The courtyard was filling up with people—strange figures of every kind, each from their own trade—all craning their necks to watch. The first wooden building was already riddled with holes, battered and nearly falling apart.
At last, the Hall Master on the top floor was knocked down, and the wooden building collapsed with a thunderous crash.
Amidst the flying splinters, Quinn Shepherd strode forward, Azure Dragon qi coiling around him. He knocked away the wooden debris flying at him and walked toward the second wooden building.
Bang, bang, bang...
That building shook violently, as if some giant beast was crashing against its walls. Its fate was little better than the first—the walls kept exploding outward, and figures were sent flying one after another.
Quinn advanced faster and faster, clearly absorbing combat experience and sharpening his fighting instincts. Whether wielding sword, fists, saber, hammer, or spear, he defeated the Hall Masters guarding room after room!
Boom.
The second wooden building collapsed, dust billowing into the air.
Then Quinn walked toward the third building.
...
Night fell. In the demon village, stone braziers atop every pillar were filled with lamp oil and set alight. Inside the village, it was bright as day, while outside lay utter darkness. Where the village light touched the blackness, it was swallowed up, as if the inside and outside were two separate worlds.
By firelight, over three hundred Hall Masters of the Cult of the Heavenly Demon stood in the village, all looking up at the last wooden building.
The demon village had nine wooden buildings in total. Each housed forty Hall Masters, guarding forty rooms. Now, Quinn Shepherd had fought his way to the ninth building and was about to reach the top.
"Young Master Quinn hasn't rested for a whole day and night, has he?"
The Madam of Velvet Hall whispered, "He started fighting in the morning and hasn't stopped since, except for lunch and dinner. It seems he's been battling nonstop."
The Hall Master of Wind Hall nodded. "Dawn's almost here, and he's about to reach the ninth building's top floor. His stamina and yuanqi are unbelievable, as if he hasn't used up anything at all—and his physical strength is downright terrifying! Still, those guys waiting on the top floor aren't easy to deal with."
The four on the top floor were the pillars among all three hundred and sixty Hall Masters: Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, and White Tiger. Since these halls matched the Four Spirit Bodies, their Hall Masters were selected from the most outstanding talents.
Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, and White Tiger—the four halls representing the cult's highest battleforce. Other Hall Masters have their specialties, managing various trades, but these four halls exist purely for combat.
In the cult's history, most Guardian Elders have come from these four halls—and even several Cult Masters.
Quinn was now entering the White Tiger Hall Master's room, where White Tiger yuanqi was famed for its sharpness—nothing could withstand it.
Back when Cult Master Tyson Li died tragically on his wedding night and the Cult Mistress vanished with the sect's Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra, the four Hall Masters were all groomed as the next generation of Cult Masters. The Heavenly Demon Patriarch personally guided them, hoping they could grow strong enough to lead the cult—not necessarily to expand it, but at least to keep it from being swallowed by the Everpeace Empire.
Although the four Hall Masters never fully met the Patriarch's expectations, their strength has advanced at a staggering pace.
Now, even with the White Tiger Hall Master sealing all her other divine treasuries and opening only her Spirit Embryo Treasury, she was still a foe unlike any Quinn had faced before!
This woman had refined her qi into threads—unbelievably tough strands of yuanqi. She didn't use her qi to control swords; her qi threads themselves were her swords.
Her qi threads were nearly invisible. As soon as Quinn entered the room, the White Tiger Hall Master wove her threads from all ten fingers, crisscrossing every corner and making it nearly impossible for Quinn to take a single step.
Her body moved like a demon from the Great Ruins—soft as if boneless, gliding freely through the room. From her fingertips, qi swords shot out, extending like claws or flexible blades, striking at Quinn with deadly intent!
She moved with the stealth of a cat and the steps of a tiger. In the cramped room, whether on the walls or ceiling, she was swift and sure-footed as if walking on solid ground.
The battle was grueling. Quinn used his butcher knife to cut the nearly invisible qi threads, but each one was incredibly tough and hard to sever. The White Tiger Hall Master kept weaving new threads with a flick of her hand, making them impossible for Quinn to guard against.
Meanwhile, the White Tiger Hall Master moved freely through the room, even using her hands and feet to stand atop her own qi threads, darting around like she was flying.
She wielded qi as her sword—soft blades twisting at impossible angles, even curling into eighteen bends. Her mastery of sword technique was formidable!
Quinn suffered injury after injury, forced to watch out for both the qi threads and her qi swords. The fight was exhausting—Grandpa Mark's boxing, Crippled Joe's leg techniques, and even Butcher's saber art couldn't be fully unleashed, all suppressed by her relentless attacks.
In the end, Quinn thrust his sword—though the wooden blade was sliced in two by her qi threads, it still struck her chest, nailing her to the wall. The wall burst apart, and the White Tiger Hall Master was blasted out of the wooden building!
Quinn raised his butcher knife and cut through the remaining qi threads in the room. He found some medicine, applied it to his wounds, and bandaged himself up.
He sat down, regulated his breathing, and slowly ate the food provided in the room. Once the pain eased and his stamina recovered a little, he broke a few wooden planks, carved them into wooden swords with his butcher knife, slung them over his back, and finally stood up to enter the next room.
Out of three hundred sixty rooms, he'd cleared three hundred fifty-seven—only three remained.
His stamina and willpower had reached their absolute limit. His head buzzed as if a thousand voices were shouting inside.
He'd never been so tired—he wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep. Even his Spirit Embryo had lost its usual vitality, now limp and listless.
He was no longer fighting on willpower alone—he moved mechanically, relying purely on instinct.
Only one belief kept him going: he couldn't let them take Granny Sue away. His parents had given him life, but Granny Sue had saved him, raised him, poured her heart into him. To Quinn, she was his mother—his dearest person.
In the next room, the Azure Dragon Hall Master saw Quinn approaching and frowned. "Young Master Quinn, you don't look well. There's no need to hurry—rest a bit first..."
Before he finished speaking, Quinn raised his hand and thrust his sword—the wooden blade flashed like lightning to the Azure Dragon Hall Master's chest, blasting the man backward!
Quinn turned blankly, moving like a machine, and trudged slowly toward the next room.
Bang—
The wooden wall of the room exploded as the Black Tortoise Hall Master blocked Quinn's wooden sword with his Black Tortoise shield, but couldn't withstand the terrifying force hidden in the blow and was sent flying!
Quinn slowly walked out of the room, his steps heavy as he dragged himself toward the next.
"Young Master Quinn, I can wait for you to rest..."
Bang!
Quinn stabbed forward, and the Vermilion Bird Hall Master was sent flying.
"Is it over?"
Quinn froze, suddenly feeling his body go limp. His legs buckled and he collapsed to the floor. He heard the clucking of Oldridge Village's Chicken Dragon—the sound it made after laying an egg.
But the youth was simply too exhausted and soon fell into a deep sleep. During this time, his Spirit Embryo frantically absorbed the golden light from the Spirit Embryo Treasury, then also fell silent.
Quinn slept for who knows how long. He woke, dazed, and seemed to see the Village Chief and the Apothecary. Their voices sounded distant, as if coming from far away: "No real problem, just too tired..." Then he drifted back to sleep.
He woke several times—sometimes seeing Granny Sue, sometimes the young Patriarch of the cult. Many faces drifted around him; he tried to speak but was too weak, and soon fell asleep again.
When Quinn finally woke again, his whole body ached, but his spirits were high. The wounds on his body had scabbed over and begun to heal—clearly, the Apothecary had come by to treat him anew.
He sat up and looked around, realizing he was still in the room where he had defeated the Vermilion Bird Hall Master. All was silent.
"My Spirit Embryo has fallen asleep again."
Quinn checked himself and found that aside from his Spirit Embryo being dormant, he was mostly fine. Gritting his teeth through the soreness, he stood, grabbed the banister, and slowly made his way downstairs—every step felt like his muscles were being torn apart.
At last, he managed to reach the ground floor and stepped out of the wooden building. When he looked up, he froze.
The village of Heavenly Demon was packed with people—most were familiar faces. He recognized all the Hall Masters of the three hundred sixty halls; now, they were gathered in the crowd.
Besides the Hall Masters, there were unfamiliar faces—towering strongmen, white-haired elders, solemn Guardian Envoys, the Four Heavenly Kings, and the Eight Inspector Envoys.
Some sat, some stood, all waiting in silence.
As Quinn stepped out of the wooden building, one by one they rose, their gazes falling on him—solemn and respectful.
At the village entrance stood the cult's young Patriarch, along with the Village Chief, the Apothecary, Grandpa Mark, and Granny Sue. Granny Sue's gaze was fixed on Quinn, her expression complicated.
Suddenly, four elders bowed deeply, their voices booming: "The Four Heavenly Kings of the Holy Cult greet the Young Cult Master!"
Quinn stood stunned, at a loss, when more voices rang out in unison: "The Guardian Envoys of the Holy Cult greet the Young Cult Master!"
"The Eight Inspector Envoys of the Holy Cult greet the Young Cult Master!"
"The Twelve Guardian Elders of the Holy Cult greet the Young Cult Master!"
Then came an even louder chorus—the voices of all three hundred sixty Hall Masters, shaking the air in unison.
"The three hundred sixty Hall Masters of the Holy Cult greet the Young Cult Master!"
Quinn had never seen anything like this. Flustered, he looked to the Village Chief and Granny Sue for help, but they stood at a distance, merely watching.
The cowherd from Oldridge Village steadied himself, showing an unexpected composure. He slowly raised his hands and said, "You may rise."
"Thank you, Young Cult Master!"