Chapter Twenty-Six: The Two Demons Are Slain

Behind Yan Nanfly, his wings trembled at an astonishing frequency, carving out incredible trajectories in the air. His figure darted and vanished unpredictably, impossible to pin down from which direction he might next appear. The demon roared in fury, yet no matter how it gave chase, it was always a step too slow, unable to match Yan Nanfly’s speed, driving it to the brink of madness.

As Yan Nanfly moved, light flickered across his form, and when he finally came to a stop, everyone saw that his entire body was encased in ancient bronze battle armor, even his head hidden beneath a matching helm. The armor appeared timeworn and archaic, its bronze hue exuding a primordial dominance. Once donned, Yan Nanfly’s aura surged wildly, and with a sudden beat of his wings, he shot forward like a meteor toward the oncoming demon.

As he launched himself, ripples shimmered in the air behind him, testament to the terrifying explosive force he now wielded. In an instant, man and demon clashed!

The demon bellowed, swinging a massive fist, while Yan Nanfly, eyes fixed on the approaching blow, clenched his right hand—sheathed in a bronze gauntlet—tightly. A sonic boom split the air. The two fists collided without flourish or hesitation, unleashing a muffled thunder that echoed far into the distance. Invisible shockwaves burst from the point of impact, rippling outward.

Their first exchange was evenly matched—Yan Nanfly’s fist held firm, not recoiling. Then, in a flash, he arched backward, head down and feet up, his right leg—encased in bronze—striking upward with brutal force into the demon’s jaw.

A sickening crack. The demon howled, dark green blood spraying as a jagged fang flew from its maw. Its huge body was flung upward, pain driving it to a frenzy.

Seizing the momentum, the demon curled its legs and viciously kicked at Yan Nanfly’s chest. The deadly bone spurs at the tips of its feet gleamed with a black luster—had they landed, even the armor might not have saved Yan Nanfly from grievous harm.

They were too close; both moved at lightning speed—dodging seemed impossible. The demon’s feet loomed large in Yan Nanfly’s vision, but he showed no sign of panic. Indeed, it was as if he had anticipated this all along.

He waited for his chance. Just as the demon’s spurs neared, Yan Nanfly moved: his wings roared with wind as his inverted body vanished like a mirage, leaving the demon’s attack to strike empty air.

All this unfolded in a flash, too fast for the onlookers below—the two figures blurred, then separated.

Yan Nanfly reappeared above the demon’s head, just as the demon’s body was still surging upward. His gauntleted fists crossed and, with a mighty swing, he smashed down on the demon’s savage skull.

The demon’s narrow pupils flared with a gray, murderous light, but it was too late to counterattack. Without suspense, Yan Nanfly’s blow crashed into its head.

With a howl of rage, the demon plummeted from the sky. Yan Nanfly pressed the attack, his fists still locked together, smashing down onto the demon’s chest.

A gout of green blood sprayed from the demon’s fanged mouth, and the purple scales on its chest shattered. The previous strike had already fractured its skull; now, its monstrous face was streaked with blood.

A thunderous crash—like a mountain falling—the impact sent dirt flying high. When the dust settled, a deep pit was revealed.

A piercing sword song rang in every ear. The weaker martial artists below clutched their heads in pain. Leng Tian narrowed his eyes and looked skyward.

There, the demon that had been beset by a rain of swords was now bound tightly like a cocoon, countless slender threads wrapping around it, drawing ever tighter.

The demon’s massive body struggled desperately against its bonds. Meanwhile, Du Qingfeng, clad in white, exuded an impressive aura. He raised a giant sword, dozens of yards long, in both hands. There was no outward display of blade energy; the sword’s surface was plain and unadorned.

“Cleave!” Du Qingfeng shouted, bringing the sword down like the scythe of Death itself.

Sensing the impending strike, the demon felt a foreboding—not fear of being cleaved in two, but of the faint, hidden power within the sword, a force it instinctively dreaded.

The colossal sword, carrying an unstoppable momentum, swept through the demon’s body. Yet the demon was not split in two; instead, with a soft pop, it dissolved into a cloud of gray mist. The Formless Demon was a higher existence among the Abyssal race, its peak power equivalent to a human at the Saint Transformation level.

To human martial artists, the greatest threat of the Formless Demon was its ability to revert to its primordial state at will, rendering it immune to all physical attacks.

As the demon reverted to its origin form, Du Qingfeng’s eyes flashed with irony. The sword in his hands suddenly shattered, and a terrible surge of thunder erupted forth.

Countless purple bolts, as thick as a thumb, burst from the broken sword, weaving into a net of lightning that instantly enveloped the demon’s primordial form.

A sizzling sound filled the air.

“Ah!” The demon shrieked as the hidden power of divine retribution within the lightning scourged it, foul greenish smoke rising from the net.

It turned out that Du Qingfeng’s ancient sword was imbued with the power of heavenly punishment. Though his own cultivation was not yet sufficient to fully unleash it, even the limited force was more than enough to destroy a demon whose strength had waned.

Its destruction was now only a matter of time.

From the pit blasted in the earth, another demon roared and burst forth, but before it could rise far, Yan Nanfly appeared above it out of thin air. His right leg, like a bronze cudgel capable of shattering mountains and rivers, came crashing down on the demon’s shoulder.

The unfortunate demon was driven back into the ground. Yan Nanfly dove after, his wings spread wide behind him, each feather honed to a razor’s edge, his spinning descent a whirlwind of deadly blades.

A spurt of dark green blood sprayed skyward as the falling demon howled in agony, scales and flesh flying in all directions.

Yan Nanfly’s spinning form, upper body tightly wrapped in azure wings, became a whirling mass of blades, each feather a razor, and with unstoppable momentum, he drove the demon deep into the earth.

Man and demon vanished beneath the surface. From afar, the watching martial artists could only hear the demon’s wretched cries and see, thrown from the pit, severed limbs and chunks of flesh, splattered with green blood and shattered organs.

Watching from a distance beside Leng Tian, the two women, Fire Dance and her companion, retched uncontrollably at the carnage—they had never witnessed such a bloody scene.

Du Qingfeng frowned slightly at Yan Nanfly’s savage fighting style, surprised that someone with such a delicate and ethereal appearance should be so formidable in close combat, able to beat a demon to death with his bare hands.

By now, the demon wrapped in lightning no longer screamed—its soul had long since been annihilated by divine retribution, erased forever from the world.

Du Qingfeng withdrew the thunderous punishment, standing high above and observing Yan Nanfly below.

Among the crowd, Leng Tian spotted Yanlong and his two companions and sent them a mental message, letting them know he had arrived, before turning his attention back to the activity below.

A bronze-clad figure burst from the earth—it was Yan Nanfly. In his hands he held a mass of deep azure flame, within which a miniature gray demon writhed in agony.

“The Azure Purifying Flame, able to cleanse all evil,” Du Qingfeng muttered, a strange look on his face as he gazed at the fire in Yan Nanfly’s hands, pondering its implications.

Two demons had now fallen, slain by Du Qingfeng and Yan Nanfly respectively, leaving only one still locked in battle with three powerful opponents.

Seeing his companions destroyed, the remaining demon grew apprehensive—how could he hope to prevail against so many human experts? Breaking free from the three, he reverted to his origin form and vanished into the ground in a flash.

The middle-aged man’s face changed—he hadn’t expected the demon to escape. The other two pursued, but Yan Nanfly quickly stopped them.

“Don’t bother chasing—it’s impossible to sense its aura underground. Instead, fortify that area’s defenses, and don’t let any more demons escape.”

The man could only sigh in frustration—three experts on their side, and they hadn’t even wounded the demon. If word got out, their reputations would be ruined.

Resigned, he cupped his fists to Yan Nanfly and Du Qingfeng. “Thank you both for your aid today. I have pressing matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave.”

The two nodded their assent, and the trio turned into streaks of light, heading back to the city.

Yan Nanfly exchanged a glance and a smile with Du Qingfeng. “Brother Du, since things are settled, shall we share a few drinks?”

Du Qingfeng, ever cool, replied calmly, “Let’s go.”

Yan Nanfly smiled wryly and vanished in a flash, covering vast distance in mere moments.

Du Qingfeng’s white robes fluttered as he took a single step through the void, instantly spanning ten yards, strolling toward the city as if taking a leisurely walk.

With the main actors gone, the remaining martial artists lost interest and dispersed, chatting about the battle in small groups. Yanlong and his companions rejoined Leng Tian, all deeply impressed by what they’d witnessed. In their hearts, they resolved to break through to the Profound Realm—the true domain of the strong.

“We’ll talk more once we get back. I doubt the city will be peaceful these next few days,” Leng Tian said, leading his group back into the capital. Everywhere, armored soldiers with weapons at the ready patrolled the streets.

They made no stops, heading straight for their residence in the southern part of the city. Along the way, every shop was tightly shuttered, and not a soul walked the deserted streets.

“Brother, do you think the escaped demon will come back?” Fire Dance asked anxiously. Ever since witnessing the demon’s horror and cruelty in Hidden Wind City, she had been haunted by fear.

“It’s unlikely, unless it has some other purpose. Otherwise, it wouldn’t risk its life. But letting it escape has certainly left us with hidden trouble.” After several encounters with demons, Leng Tian could only imagine the scale of the calamity that had befallen the world ten thousand years ago.

Martial Edge 26: Chapter Twenty-Six—Two Demons Fall—End of Update.