They rested a night in the fishing village.

Then everyone climbed into the carriages and headed back to the Demon Suppression General’s residence.

Old man Chen seemed very pleased with the letters he had written. He had arranged fine demon-horses for his subordinate officers and sent them off with instructions to deliver the letters as quickly as possible.

Fang Heng, meanwhile, was staring with suspicion at the other carriage.

General Shen had stepped in first, and then martial sister Jiang had followed with a perfectly composed expression. Neither of them had shown anything outwardly unusual — but the sheer ease of it was more than enough to shake him.

“…”

Fang Heng was silent for a long moment. Then he quietly borrowed paper and brush from the old man, intending to send a letter to martial sister Lin.

He dipped the brush, let it touch the paper — and thought of the state martial brother Bai had been in a few months ago.

His hand wavered. He hesitated, sighed, and crumpled the paper into a ball and tucked it away.

“Warm yourself up.”

Inside the carriage, Jiang Qiulan produced two small wine jars from her belt.

“I’ve stopped.”

Shen Yi raised an eyebrow slightly. She was always torturing people with the stuff.

“Ah.” Jiang Qiulan put the jars away and took a small sip herself. A faint flush came into her fair, fine-featured face, and she looked remarkably lovely.

Shen Yi dropped into his inner vision. The accumulated faith that had been sparse before had, after just one night, grown considerably denser.

Without the constraints involved, nurturing a divine spirit would be incomparably easier than nurturing a path infant.

Hooves beat at a steady pace, and they were soon inside the prefectural city.

They arrived at the Demon Suppression General’s residence.

Chen Qiankun had not yet stepped down from his carriage when two middle-aged men in long robes came hurrying up, silver bells swaying faintly at their waists. “General Chen — there is urgent business in Qingzhou City. Please return as soon as possible. There must be no delay.”

The old man paused.

Using silver-bell demon-hunters as messengers was already a considerable extravagance. More than that, these two had addressed a Demon Suppression General with something very close to an order.

That could only mean the message came from General Jiang Yuanhua himself.

The carriage curtain shifted.

Two figures in black armor appeared.

The silver-bell demon-hunters seemed slightly surprised. “General Jiang and Commander Shen are here as well — please, both of you, return to Qingzhou City at once.”

Fang Heng’s brow furrowed, a flash of unease crossing his face.

The last time all twelve generals had assembled was when their master returned from the capital and called them back to report. That had not been long ago — and now every Demon Suppression General was being summoned again.

What could possibly require this kind of mobilization?

Chen Qiankun had clearly sensed something was wrong as well. The ease he had barely settled into over the past day went taut again in an instant.

He gave a sharp whistle.

A streak of red light crossed the sky and landed at the residence gate.

“You two can spare your dignity for now — ride together. Old Chen will be right behind you.”

If this was truly urgent, these two mattered far more than he did.

Jiang Qiulan said nothing, swung up into the saddle, and looked at the young man.

Shen Yi shook his head slightly, then dissolved into a breeze and vanished. At his current cultivation, the Unfettered Wind-Riding Art was already well beyond the speed of any horse.

Qingzhou City. The Division yamen.

Before a certain pavilion.

Jiang Yuanhua stood expressionless at the door, staring at it. It was closed.

Bai Ziming stood behind him in some awkwardness. He rather wished he had not used his technique to notify his master.

A provincial General, turned away at his own door — in all of Qingzhou, probably only that eccentric old grandmother Aqian had the nerve.

Nine Demon Suppression Generals stood in a row, and still the door had not opened.

Then You Longtao came walking quickly through the crowd, and Jiang Chengyun pushed it open a crack from inside. “General You. Please come in.”

“What is—”

You Longtao glanced at his master, then at the other assembled generals, and walked in with a thoroughly puzzled expression.

Jiang Chengyun did not even bother looking at the rest of them, and was about to pull the door shut.

At that moment, a breeze descended from the sky.

Jiang Chengyun’s face lit up at the familiar sight. “General Shen! Come in, come in!”

Shen Yi took in the scene without a word, and stepped directly inside.

“What in the world is this!”

Expressions shifted all around. You Longtao being allowed in while they were kept out was at least barely explicable. But this newly-appointed General Shen as well?

Only the young ones — was Aqian planning to put together a group of upstarts and make a move on the General’s position?

As if to confirm their suspicions, some time later a flash of red light swept through and Jiang Qiulan was admitted as well.

But the one that truly left everyone speechless was the bald man with the injury.

Old Yang was a Gold-bell demon-hunter — Aqian’s peer — and even he had been turned away at the door.

Inside the spacious pavilion.

Aqian sat in the main seat, her expression unusually blank.

Beside her was a stocky old man with a close-cropped head of white hair and a powerfully built frame. His name was Wu Feng — Qingzhou’s third Gold-bell demon-hunter.

You Longtao sat quietly to one side. Facing him were Jiang Qiulan and Shen Yi.

“…”

Aqian shot her grandson a look. She hadn’t intended for Shen Yi to come in.

“There is nothing in Qingzhou that General Shen cannot hear.”

Jiang Chengyun stood with his hands behind his back, entirely unbothered.

He looked around the room, the fire in his eyes burning hotter than ever. This was the scene he had dreamed of.

He had finally—

“Get out.” Aqian cut him off.

“Ah?” Jiang Chengyun’s face fell. He hesitated for a few breaths, then obediently retreated, though his departing figure looked rather forlorn.

Once the door closed again, Aqian produced two silver bells and handed them to Jiang Qiulan and You Longtao. She formed a hand-seal and channeled the message into everyone’s bells in turn.

Watching her grave expression, You Longtao’s curiosity deepened — but when he fed his qi into the bell and received the brief, plainly-worded message, his steady hand gave an involuntary, barely-perceptible tremor.

Ambush and kill the Junior Demon King.

The other Gold-bell demon-hunter’s eyelid twitched without his permission.

Even Jiang Qiulan slowly raised her eyes. “…”

What had shattered Qingzhou’s long years of stability. The nightmare the Division had never been able to shake. The reason Jiang Qiulan had trained herself into the ground since childhood.

It all came back to one thing.

The Junior Demon King, who had simply appeared here one day.

Ambush after ambush, year after year — never once successful. Each failure had laid another heavy shadow over all of them. The arrogant bull demon hung above their heads like a drawn blade.

No one knew when it would fall.

And until it fell, no one could sleep soundly.

But this was the first time anyone had ever proposed going after it while it was wounded — and not because no one had thought of it before. The Junior Demon King, whenever it was injured, had simply never let anyone learn where it was hiding.

“I have only two pieces of information.”

Aqian’s voice came from the silver bell again.

“First: the Howling Moon wolf king is not with it — and has taken its guards away with him.”

“Second: its current location.”

“This intelligence came too easily. So easily I feel like I’m dreaming. I suspect a trap, so the choice is yours to make.”

(End of Chapter)