Chapter Forty-Six: A Battle on Another Plane
In a private club adjacent to the Star Martial Pavilion, Zhang Jian was hosting a banquet for an elderly man of imposing stature.
The old man had a square face, a broad mouth, and eyes that gleamed like those of a tiger. Even seated, he was half a head taller than most people standing. On either side of him sat two young, beautiful women, but their expressions betrayed a trace of fear.
Zhang Jian sat alone on his side of the table, his face brimming with respect as he addressed the old man. “Master, have you found anything lacking in my hospitality these past few days? If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to say it—your disciple will do everything within his power to fulfill your wishes.”
The old man extended a hand as broad as a fan and patted the head of one of the girls beside him. His hand was nearly larger than the young woman’s head itself, and the look in his eye was more akin to someone appraising a meal.
The girl was on the verge of tears, but she forced herself to remain motionless.
The old man spoke calmly, “You’re a filial child, far better than your senior brothers up in Beihai.”
Zhang Jian gave a bitter smile and sighed. “My own son used to be just as filial, but alas…”
“Don’t worry,” the old man said. “I won’t let my grand-disciple die in vain. Just now, I released a puppet imbued with a wisp of my spirit. Soon, your revenge will be exacted.”
Zhang Jian’s eyes reddened instantly. He rose from his seat and knelt before the old man, kowtowing with a choking voice, “Thank you, Master, for avenging my late child!”
The old man waved him up. “Get up, get up. Men shouldn’t be weeping like this. If you lose a child, just have another one.”
Zhang Jian stood, then began to report his recent “achievements.”
“Thanks to you, Master, the men you assigned are formidable. We’ve already seized, in secret, twenty percent of the channels that once belonged to the Song family.”
The old man frowned. “Still too slow.”
“Not really, Master. The mundane world has its rules. We can use both coercion and enticement, but we can’t simply take it by force,” Zhang Jian explained.
The old man sounded displeased. “You humans are so hypocritical. You hate your enemies to the bone and wish to stab them with a blade, yet you still have to smile in their presence. It’s tiresome!”
Zhang Jian said, “There’s no helping it; everyone does the same. But this time, I’m determined and confident. I’ll wipe out the Song family completely. The process may be slow, but the result will be just like the law of the jungle among the demon clans.”
“When that day comes, our brothers and sisters from Beihai’s demon clan will be able to enter the Star Martial Pavilion, which spans the stars, and gradually spread outward. In the commercial domain, we’ll finally be free, no longer restrained by others!”
The old man nodded. “Good child. I’m counting on you.”
Zhang Jian replied solemnly, “For you, Master, for Beihai, I would gladly lay down my life.”
…
The Song residence was enveloped in silence.
Sister Wang reclined against the headboard in her pajamas, a facial mask on her face, engrossed in a printed book. She relished these quiet moments alone with a book, second only to watching Song Yue devour his meals.
After a while, she frowned slightly, set the book face-down on the nightstand, peeled off her facial mask and tossed it in the trash, then grabbed an antique long sword from the bed. Barefoot, she stepped onto the floor soundlessly.
She stood expressionless at her bedroom door and, with slow deliberation, drew the sword from its scabbard—one hand gripping the sheath, the other the blade.
The next instant, the door swung open on its own.
With a flick of her wrist, Sister Wang slashed out!
A brilliant arc of sword light flashed, accompanied by a non-human shriek from the doorway.
A shadow staggered backward.
Sister Wang followed up, lunging with another thrust.
The shadow let out an angry snarl, and a beam of light shot from its head toward Sister Wang’s face.
In a split second, she moved with impossible speed, dodging aside.
The beam blasted a hole straight through the wall.
Her sword struck the shadow’s chest—it sounded like slicing through paper.
With a tremor of her sword, the figure—now revealed as a paper effigy—crumbled into scraps.
A cold voice echoed in the air, “Impressive. I’ll spare your life for now.”
Sister Wang sneered, “You think you can just leave?”
At that moment, a strange radiance lit up the entire villa.
The cold voice exclaimed in shock, “A formation?”
The glow formed an impenetrable cage, trapping the wisp of spirit inside.
“Human, do you know who I am?”
Sister Wang snorted, “But do you know who I am?”
With a flick of her wrist, she slashed another arc of sword light through the air.
A furious, incredulous howl answered, “How can a mere martial artist at the Grandmaster level hurt me?”
Sister Wang laughed coldly, “Looking down on warriors? How shallow.”
She swung her sword again, and a scream of agony rang out, “Impossible! You’re only a Grandmaster-level martial artist—how can you injure me?”
Sister Wang delivered several more blows. The screams grew weaker until they faded entirely.
She sheathed her sword with disdain. “So what if I’m a cultivator too? Am I so proud?”
But then a trace of worry crossed her face.
The fact that the enemy could infiltrate so quietly with a paper puppet was beyond her expectations.
She picked up her phone, hesitated, then called Song Yue.
“Sister Wang, I’ll be home tomorrow!” Song Yue’s voice brimmed with confidence as soon as the call connected.
“No, wait a few more days. I have to go out for a while, visit the children,” she said gently. “Stay at Master’s house for now. I’ll cook for you when I return.”
“Sister Wang, are you alright?” Song Yue sensed something was off, despite her flawless tone.
“I’m fine!” she laughed. “Don’t think I’m mad at you. I really do miss the kids and haven’t seen them in so long.”
“Well…alright. But if anything comes up, promise you’ll let me know.”
She promised, hung up, put on her shoes and a black outfit, grabbed her sword, and left the house. With a leap, she landed on a rooftop.
Like the master before her, she glanced toward the Star Martial Pavilion. Then, as if a swallow in the night, she bounded across the rooftops, swiftly reaching her destination.
Her gaze settled on the private club beside the Pavilion.
It seemed as though she was communicating telepathically with whatever dwelled within.
After a few silent exchanges, Sister Wang’s brows arched. With a flick of her hand, she unleashed a dazzling arc of sword energy, aiming to cleave the luxurious building in two.
A towering old man, at least two meters forty-five, strode out and met her sword with a single palm.
A blue shield enveloped the club, blocking her attack.
His tiger-bright eyes glinted coldly as he looked at Sister Wang. “So it was you, little demon, who injured my spirit just now?”
Sister Wang replied with icy indifference, “Reeking of the sea—best return to your ocean. The human world is no place for you.”
The old man roared, “What are you? Just a little demon, and you dare speak to me this way?”
He was about to attack when, in a flash, a gaunt old wolf appeared, arriving in the blink of an eye.
Adjusting his glasses, the old wolf smiled obsequiously, “Let’s talk this out—no need for violence. If the Department of Extraordinary Affairs gets involved, it’ll be trouble.”
The old man snorted and eyed the old wolf. “You think you, a crippled wolf, can meddle in my affairs?”
Still smiling, the old wolf said, “Someone of your stature is beyond my reach. I only meant to remind you: this is the human world. You should act with caution.”
“What’s the point of talking to such riffraff?” Sister Wang’s face was frosty, her eyes brimming with killing intent. She looked at the old man. “Leave, or fight.”
At that moment, two more figures arrived—one serene-faced, the other, his wife, also wielding a long sword, as if walking on air.
With their arrival, the world seemed to shift.
Though the city lights still blazed, everything around fell silent.
The old man narrowed his eyes, scoffing, “A domain?”
The master said nothing, but drew three talisman papers from his robes.
At this, the old man’s pupils contracted.
He’d heard of this man! Like one of his own kin—a warrior. But rumor had it that this renowned scholar of the human world was now gravely injured, no longer a true warrior.
“So you’re the master? You’re no match for me!” the old man declared, hesitating to make the first move. In the human city, he was wary. He cared nothing for human laws, but the Department of Extraordinary Affairs was not to be trifled with.
He only wished to expand the Beihai demon clan’s commercial influence and, in passing, eliminate a human youth. He hadn’t expected to stir up such a hornet’s nest.
“Go back to where you came from,” the master said.
“And if I refuse?” the old man sneered.
In a flash, one talisman ignited in the master’s hand, unleashing a bolt of lightning at the old man.
In the master’s hands, the Thunder Talisman’s power was on a whole other level than in Song Yue’s.
It was like true celestial thunder; the old man’s face changed at once. A blue shield appeared around him, and a magical artifact—a set of 1,808 teeth he’d forged himself—shot forth, forming a hailstorm that swept toward the master.
The master’s wife and Sister Wang moved in tandem, swords striking at the old man.
“Wait, let’s talk this over!” the old wolf pleaded, but seized the chance to send forth his own two fang-talisman artifacts, gleaming as they struck at the old man.
“So you’re all ganging up on my Beihai demon clan? Even if the Department of Extraordinary Affairs arrives, I’ll have my say!”
The old man, beset by those he considered mere lesser demons and weaker humans, erupted in blue light and fought all four furiously.
…
After hanging up, Song Yue grew increasingly uneasy.
Sister Wang had watched him grow up; he knew her as well as she knew him. She’d occasionally leave Hangzhou, claiming to visit her children, but all these years, he’d never once seen them—not even a photo. In fact, he wondered if she even had children at all.
He knew she harbored many secrets.
But she’d been so good to him for so many years, she was family. Though he called her “sister,” in his heart she was always an elder.
“No, I have to go home,” he muttered, gripped by a sense of dread. He rose to find Master and Mistress, but discovered the house empty.
When had they left? Without a word? It was too odd. Master rarely left home, and Mistress never went out this late.
More convinced that something was wrong, Song Yue took the Dragon Pattern Demon-Slaying Blade from the Jade Void Stele, exited the house, and used his spiritual field to block the omnipresent SkyNet system, hurrying toward home.
But when he arrived, Sister Wang was gone. In her room, he found a pile of paper scraps and lingering energy in the air.
Opening the door, he saw the hole blasted in the wall.
His expression turned grave.
He thought of a possibility and sped toward the Zhang family’s Star Martial Pavilion.
When he arrived, the area was eerily quiet, not a soul in sight.
He was about to leave when his spiritual sense picked up faint fluctuations. He activated the Supreme Spirit method, seeking resonance with the energy.
In the next moment, his vision changed completely.
A great battle raged in a mysterious, spiritual realm.
A colossal killer whale, dozens of meters long, swam through the void, unleashing terrifying killing intent as it attacked a group.
He recognized them instantly: the master, the mistress, Sister Wang.
A gaunt old wolf he didn’t know fought with savage ferocity, hurtling himself at the whale.
Waves surged around the killer whale as if it were swimming in the sea. Its mastery over water techniques was profound.
What level of battle was this?
Song Yue was dumbstruck.
Most shocking of all was Sister Wang. In this spiritual realm, he saw furry red ears atop her head and a long, bushy red tail behind her—striking at the killer whale with great force.
Sister Wang was a fox demon?
But she seemed wounded, blood dripping from her body.
The master’s lips were stained with blood too, as he repeatedly activated thunder talismans against the whale.
The killer whale was covered in wounds, but seemed barely fazed, roaring with tiger-like fury.
Suddenly, the combatants noticed Song Yue.
With a wave of the master’s hand, Song Yue’s vision blurred—he was forcibly ejected from that world.
He tried to re-enter, desperate to help.
Just then, the door of the private club beside the Star Martial Pavilion opened. Zhang Jian, his face dark, emerged with several men and immediately spotted Song Yue holding the Dragon Pattern Demon-Slaying Blade.