The Yangchun River lay vast and still, its surface catching the light. Against it, human effort seemed remarkably small.

Smoke rose in thin threads, carrying the dense smell of meat.

Large cooking pots were propped at the river’s edge, lined one after another all the way to where the eye lost sight.

Commanders and Deputy Commanders in cloud-patterned dark robes and wolf-devouring cloaks had never received an order quite like this. No wine — only great quantities of meat.

As for the source of the meat—

Three ferocious flood dragon heads had been hoisted high. Their hundred-zhang bodies were coiled along the riverbank. Dead for some time now, and yet somehow still holding the shape of the living, without a trace of decay. The more culinary-minded Commanders worked with treasured blades to cut portions away, then boiled them over high fire, added salt, and did their best to make them edible.

At the very front, in black armor, the old general sat behind a small table.

His expression was settled. Unhurried, he poured himself half a bowl of wine and took a measured sip. Both eyes looked at the river’s surface without any particular emotion.

The crashing waves could not move him.

Beneath that unspoken authority, even the Yangchun River seemed somehow less.

The Demon Suppression General on river patrol.

The Commanders of Linjiang Prefecture chewed flood dragon meat and sent reverent looks toward the old man.

Everyone said General Chen was aging. But who would have thought — even an old tiger had rage left in the bones. When those eyes opened again, it was still the same Demon Suppression General who had kept Linjiang Prefecture in order.

Two months ago, the Yangchun River flood dragon clan had dared to surface and cause harm.

Today, Old General Chen was showing the whole water clan, right to their faces, what the Division’s methods looked like.

Eat the flesh. Drink the blood.

Press every last water creature down with the weight of that mixed-iron halberd until none of them could raise their heads.

“…”

Chen Qiankun wanted to rub his stiff face, but felt the burning looks from behind him and thought better of it.

These young people who followed him — how long had it been since they’d felt anything like this?

Demon Suppression Generals were not all alike.

Yushan Prefecture, for instance — under Jiang Qiulan’s presence alone, no demon dared approach. Even when she left for months at a time, the prefecture stayed quiet. Her Commanders and Deputy Commanders only had to handle routine patrols.

His own people lived every day under enormous pressure from the demons. They couldn’t afford to relax even for a moment.

Now that they finally had something like this to enjoy, it would be a shame to spoil the mood.

Although—

He looked at the still river surface, and couldn’t stop himself from exhaling quietly inside.

If the old flood dragon actually got another breakthrough — comparable to a practitioner who’d crossed all three core-nurturing thresholds, and in its own river — not even him, not even Jiang Qiulan coming in person, could kill it.

What he’d said to Liu Yuchuan was only half a joke. He genuinely hoped Qingzhou’s sharpest blade would arrive and at minimum drive the old flood dragon back into the water — spare Linjiang from becoming a place of mass devastation.

As for why he’d agreed to Shen Yi’s plan—

Beyond genuinely admiring the young man and being willing to cause some trouble with him — there was also the straightforward principle: as a Demon Suppression General, how could he hide in the prefecture city and push the ordinary people he was supposed to protect out in his place?

Not far off, in a nearby village—

Several people had gathered around a table.

The villagers had already been ushered away. Two had refused to leave.

The widow carefully lifted flood dragon meat from the pot and set it on the table, then cast a tentative glance at the black-armored, crimson-caped young man at the table.

Several months had passed. He still wore the gold-patterned black scabbard. The sharp-featured face had lost some of its cold killing edge — but the pressure he gave was considerably greater than before. As if the act of killing so many things had turned the killing-energy inward, where it sat more quietly.

The madman had shed the disheveled look of before. He appeared, on the surface, just like any other young man.

He took the household’s stored wine out and poured for both of them with respectful care.

Fang Heng had no interest in drinking. Worry was written across his face. But he stayed quietly alongside, as he’d learned to do after many encounters — when Shen Yi was doing something, it wasn’t Fang Heng’s place to question it.

“…”

Shen Yi closed his eyes and looked inward.

In the qi sea—

The path seed inside the Heaven-Devouring inner core, having grown considerably more substantial, was radiating a faint crimson light. Around it — dense white mist.

Since arriving in Linjiang Prefecture, the faith qi seemed to have been growing more plentiful.

Strange.

Even if someone had actually built a temple for him somewhere — he’d only been in this world a short time. How could there be this much?

He couldn’t remember doing anything that would warrant being worshipped.

He decided to stop thinking about it.

He’d already had the idea of nurturing both the path infant and the divine spirit simultaneously. He had time right now. May as well try.

He opened the panel and looked at the remaining nine thousand-plus years of lifespan.

He started deriving the Heaven-Devouring Art again — only this time, instead of relying on demon core cultivation, he turned his attention to the faith qi.

【Year one — you begin attempting to plant the divine spirit seed—】

In the same instant, the white mist that had been drifting toward him on instinct was suddenly drawn greedily into the inner core in the qi sea.

Watching this, Shen Yi finally understood why the divine spirit path was called a shortcut.

He didn’t have to laboriously gather anything. He just sat here, and faith qi came pouring in from every direction.

Perhaps because of the prior experience, progress was smooth. No surprises.

【Year 932 — you successfully condense the divine spirit seed—】

The invisible white mist had become noticeably thinner.

In exchange — a white point of light, slowly pulsing inside the inner core. Side by side with the crimson path seed.

That was it?

Shen Yi raised his wine cup to cover the surprise in his expression.

The white point and the crimson path seed seemed to be different in nature. He could even see the tendrils extending from both overlapping — like a soul reaching toward the flesh, passing straight through it.

No need to worry about the two being crowded together after all.

But the white point didn’t seem to have given him any noticeable change.

No shift in strength. No shift in qi.

The faith qi was nearly spent. Otherwise Shen Yi would have kept deriving to see what changed next.

He closed the panel and began exploring what the white divine spirit seed actually did.

He’d been hoping to have Old General Chen provoke the flood dragon — let it see its three brothers carved up and eaten, work itself into fury, attempt a forced breakthrough with an unstable realm, dramatically reduced power—

But the Yangchun River was actually quieter than usual.

Old things that had lived this long had that kind of composure, apparently.

Five more days passed.

The water in the riverside pots had been boiled dry and refilled more times than anyone wanted to count.

The three hundred-zhang flood dragon carcasses had been cut into a pitted, unrecognizable state.

The Commanders and Deputy Commanders were genuinely approaching their limit. Even if the point was to intimidate the water clan — surely this didn’t have to continue indefinitely.

They looked helplessly toward Old General Chen at the front.

Who had absolutely no indication of ordering it stopped.

Then — he finally stood.

Joy lit in the Commanders’ eyes — and was immediately extinguished.

Because wave after wave of river water began crashing against the bank.

In the middle of the murky Yangchun River, a dark line appeared. At least two hundred zhang long.

Everyone went still for one moment, then every pupil contracted at once. Goosebumps swept across every body.

A massive dark shape was rising below the water’s surface, spreading until it filled most of the river’s width.

The dark line was the spine of something enormous, coming up from beneath.

(End of Chapter)