The numbers on the panel began spinning.
Thirty-four… twenty-one… thirteen…
They came to rest at one.
The cultivation rank beside Demon-Subduing Bladework climbed just as rapidly.
【Through grueling practice, you broke through to Minor Mastery in year eight.】
【You continued your training and achieved Major Mastery in year seventeen.】
【In year twenty-nine, your Demon-Subduing Bladework reached Perfection.】
【In year thirty-three, even after reaching Perfection you remained devoted to the blade — a new insight seemed to stir, but the spark was too faint, and the breakthrough did not come…】
Demon-Subduing Bladework — Perfection
Shen Yi lay on the floor, his attention fixed mostly on the hand gripping the saber.
He needed to know: after sacrificing lifespan, had his body withered into an old man — or had it held its form?
He looked at the back of his hand. The skin was still smooth. His long fingers moved with perfect ease.
What surprised him more was that his body hadn’t aged at all. If anything, it was growing stronger by the second — dense, coiled power building in his muscles at a pace that defied reason.
It was as if Shen Yi had genuinely spent thirty-three years in single-minded devotion to the blade — no wine, no women, nothing but the saber in his hand, every waking hour, for three decades.
The night pressed down, heavy and still. The courtyard was silent as a grave.
The Dog Demon’s massive frame stooped slightly as it reached the doorway. One paw braced against the wall, and it pushed its head inside.
Those pale yellow eyes swept the room without expression.
Old Man Liu pressed himself into the corner, the whites of his eyes showing, on the verge of blacking out entirely. He’d managed to raise a club against the back of Shen Yi’s head earlier — but faced with that dog’s muzzle looming inches away, he couldn’t even form the words to beg.
Fortunately, the demon’s gaze slid off him quickly and landed on the girl. She looked more appetizing.
The Dog Demon didn’t bother speaking. It simply extended one clawed hand and crooked a single finger.
Paralyzed by terror beyond thought, the girl’s eyes went glassy. Her feet moved on their own, carrying her forward — until she felt the demon’s razor claws close around her throat.
Then a warm hand wrapped around her wrist, and stopped her.
The girl flinched hard and looked down.
Shen Yi was hauling himself off the floor, brow slightly furrowed. He brushed the dust from his clothes, and in the same dismissive tone he’d used to shoo her away earlier, said quietly: “Step back. Go stand in the corner.”
“…”
With claws already locked around her throat, the girl’s composure shattered completely. She had no idea what Shen Yi was saying.
Go where? How?
A savage grin spread across the Dog Demon’s muzzle. “Calm down, traitor. You’re next — don’t rush.”
Then, before anyone could follow what happened —
A flash of silver light cut through the room. Cold and blinding.
Shen Yi stood with the saber held low at his side, its polished blade catching a blurred reflection of his expressionless face.
A thin line of red had appeared along the edge. It gathered at the tip, formed a single drop, and fell.
The arm fell with it — sleek black fur, dense muscle, and all.
“AUGH—!”
A howl of agony tore through the house. The Dog Demon hadn’t even tracked the blade’s path. Hadn’t seen him draw.
With the claws gone, the girl stumbled backward and collapsed into the corner, huddling there in shock.
Through her tear-blurred eyes, she watched that thin silhouette hurl itself forward.
Like a god of slaughter unleashed, Shen Yi’s arm swept out, fingers driving into the thick scruff of the Dog Demon’s neck — and slammed it into the ground.
The force was absolute. The mountain of a creature crashed down like a felled tree.
No pause. No mercy. Shen Yi dropped a knee onto the dog’s skull, raised the saber two-handed above his head, and drove it straight down into its throat.
Thunk.
Hot blood erupted upward and drenched his face — painting something feral and vicious across those sharp features.
Shen Yi stood on the demon’s head and drew the blade free from the meat with both hands, perfectly steady.
His first kill. His first demon.
And yet his body moved like it had done this a thousand times — the motions carved so deep they’d become pure instinct.
Blood soaked him from collar to boot, and the stench was nauseating. By all rights he should have been shaking. Should have been sick.
Instead, he felt nothing but calm.
This is what the Demon-Subduing Bladework is for. Killing demons is no different from eating a meal.
He pulled the saber free and stared into the Dog Demon’s wide, dead eyes. Then he methodically wiped the blade clean on its fur.
Even Shen Yi himself hadn’t expected it to end that fast.
Thirty-three years of the blade. Every ounce of strength his mortal body could hold — pushed to its absolute peak.
He turned back to look at the father and daughter in the corner.
Disbelief was written across both their faces — but beneath it, the fear had only deepened. Not a trace of gratitude.
Shen Yi looked away, unbothered.
Half an hour ago he’d been trying to tear the girl’s clothes off. He could hardly expect them to trust him now. They probably still thought this was a falling-out between Constable Shen and his demon partner.
Fair enough.
He re-sheathed the saber, kicked the Dog Demon’s corpse aside, and headed for the courtyard.
“Sir…”
The Liu girl stared at her own wrist — the one he’d grabbed. She slowly lifted her dirty face and said, carefully: “Would you like to… get that wound on your head bandaged first?”
Old Man Liu’s vision went dark.
You foolish girl. Did you forget how that wound got there in the first place?
As far as he was concerned, the man standing before them now was ten times more terrifying than any demon.
Shen Yi slowed.
After a moment, he looked back. “…Sure.”
Two lifetimes, and he hadn’t done much worth calling good. The one time he managed something decent — it’d be a lie to say he didn’t care whether anyone noticed.
What kind of story ends with the hero walking himself home?
The least they could do was offer him some hot water.
He strolled back and dropped onto the edge of the bed. The girl helped him out of his outer robe with clumsy, uncertain hands. Old Man Liu’s heart was heavy — but his hands still moved efficiently, digging out a relatively clean strip of cloth to dab away the blood caked at the back of Shen Yi’s head.
Then the panel appeared.
A new notification caught his eye.
【Sentient Dog Demon — Pre-Threshold. Total Lifespan: 175 years. Remaining: 63 years. Absorbed.】
【Current Martial Arts】
Bone-Crushing Grapple — Master Level
Demon-Subduing Bladework — Perfection
【Current Remaining Lifespan: 1 year】
【Demon Lifespan: 63 years】
【Demon Lifespan may be channeled into martial arts. It cannot be converted into personal Lifespan.】
“…”
He sent the two of them off to deal with the corpse, and turned the new information over in his mind.
There really was something hollow about spending big, he had to admit.
He stared at that single remaining year of his own lifespan for a long moment. Then he had the sudden urge to slap himself.
Perfection at twenty-nine years. I could’ve stopped there. Instead I kept going like an idiot and burned four extra years for nothing.
Even if he had no particular attachment to this world, it was like a game — more time to play was always better.
“So as long as I keep killing demons, I can use their leftover lifespan to fuel martial progression instead of my own?”
“A single sentient dog demon lives close to two hundred years. That’s absurd.”
He was genuinely surprised.
But then another thought surfaced.
If demons could live that long, surely humans had some way of extending their own lifespans too? If they didn’t, the ones wearing constable uniforms and carrying sabers should’ve been the demons long ago — not a human dynasty still running things.
Forget it. No point getting lost in that now.
There was something in the readout earlier — a hint about a new development in the Demon-Subduing Bladework.
Sixty-three years of demon lifespan in hand. He felt bizarrely like someone who’d just hit a jackpot.
Start small — try ten years and see what happens.