The evening wind had a faint chill, moving through the treetops along the old road.
Shen Yi stood with his arms folded, leaning against a red horse with lazy ease, looking into the distance.
This was the old General's mount — known to everyone in Qingzhou. Specifically sent to carry him back to the city.
The city wall's outline was faintly visible in the distance.
He patted the horse's neck. "Go on back."
He'd passed the stage where he needed to carry Chen Qiankun's name like a banner. There was no need to make it so conspicuous anymore.
The red horse gave a light nod, then became a streak of light and vanished into the sky.
Shen Yi let his gaze rest on nothing in particular, watching the demon lifespan on the panel drop.
He went carefully back through the fight with the White Deer.
Even the body-refinement he'd relied on most had felt fragile against a genuine core-nurturing demon lord. The moment close-quarters contact happened — if not for the crimson feather's divine ability, that first stomping hoof would have caved in half the body.
And the White Deer had been constantly wary of Jiang Qiulan arriving. He'd had the Unfettered Wind-Riding Art — he knew even losing didn't mean getting caught — plus the Solar-Splitting Bow. Their mental states had been completely different.
Even in those conditions, the final outcome had been a close, exhausted win.
Killing the flood dragon before had involved Chen Qiankun absorbing all the pressure.
This time, the White Deer was dead. The Junior Demon King had escaped. Word would get out. He didn't know whether they'd attribute this to Jiang Qiulan while incidentally noting his existence.
Before, he'd been using the court Division's reputation as a shield while quietly developing his own strength.
But in a short time, he'd somehow become one of the tiles — the ones who deflect the wind and rain for everything below.
The more demons he killed, the stronger this tendency would become. Until eventually, the list of targets for ambush might include one more name.
To prevent…