Kaelan opens his eyes and looks down from the cliff as the evening cools the air.
Below, a small rocky clearing rings the base of the cliff, hemmed in by dense forest, and a middle-aged man in a simple black robe steps from the trees, hair tied in a neat bun.
He bows low and says, "Greetings, Great Demon."
Kaelan studies him with narrow eyes and is surprised—a mere Third Class martial artist dares to approach.
"Who are you?" Kaelan asks.
"I am a humble clerk working for the town magistrate," the man answers, voice steady though his hands tremble slightly.
"And why are you here?" Kaelan asks, suspicion sharpening his tone.
The clerk swallows and says, "Great Demon, I came to request your help."
Kaelan's brow lifts. "The government brands every demon that crosses its borders as an enemy to be slain; why would a clerk bring an invitation instead of an execution order?"
The clerk hurriedly shakes his head. "It is not the provincial government—this request comes from the town magistrate himself."
Kaelan's eyes narrow as he decides, against his earlier choice, to link with the clerk's spirit and peer inside his thoughts rather than speak aloud.
The clerk's mind bursts at him—fear, calculation, the magistrate's plan to have an inspector from the Demon Hunter Bureau killed.
The Demon Hunter Bureau answers directly to the king and inspects collusion between humans and demons, and this inspector was sent to investigate complaints that the magistrate has been murdering civilians with the help of a den of fox demons.
The complaint is true, the clerk's thoughts admit, and the magistrate intended the fox demons to do the killing while he covered tracks, but with the inspector's early arrival, the magistrate concluded he must act personally.
If the inspector is dead and the Demon Hunters find a strange new demon is responsible, the magistrate believes suspicion will fall away from him.
And buy enough time for the magistrate to bury all clues and traces related to his collision with fox demons.
As the clerk's fear splinters into pleading, Kaelan's thought slides through his mind: *I must send someone from Chen Village to invite the fox demons to meet me.*
The clerk, trembling so the words sound thin, offers, "A small favour for the Great Demon."
Kaelan asks, "What favour?"
Kaelan already knows the truth, but still he asks, his voice carried on the wind, "Who?"
The clerk swallows hard and says, "A man."
From his thoughts, Kaelan learns the magistrate and clerk have no idea what the Demon Hunter inspector looks like or when exactly he will arrive, only that word came from a friend in the provincial capital—an inspector is already on the road, bound for Qinhe Town, and from tomorrow onward he may appear at any hour, traveling in a black tealwood carriage.
Kaelan's voice curls sharper through the air, "What kind of man does the magistrate need me to kill?"
The clerk bows deeper, his voice cautious, "A political enemy of the magistrate. For you, Great Demon, easy to kill."
Kaelan asks flatly, "And what will I gain for helping the magistrate?"
The clerk quickly answers, "The magistrate will give you fifty blood food."
The words hang heavy. To demons, blood food means humans.
Kaelan falls silent, mist thickening across the cliff top until the air itself feels suffocating.
The clerk trembles, then ventures, "Will you do it, Great Demon?"
Kaelan's answer is as cold as stone, "No."
The spiritual mist thickens again, and the clerk realises with terror that the demon will not do their bidding and may yet decide to make him food.
He bows low, almost stumbling, and then flees into the trees, running until his lungs burn, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and the cliff.
At last, when he dares to slow, he takes a small whistle from his sleeve and blows sharply.
An owl sweeps down from the night sky, silent as shadow.
The clerk ties a red thread around its leg and releases it.
The owl takes wing, vanishing into the night, the red thread on its leg bearing a clear message—the mission has failed. Kaelan follows it with his gaze until it disappears, then calmly returns to his cultivation.
After a few minutes, his eyes open again, sharp and thoughtful. From the clerk's memory, he knows the magistrate is a vengeful man. Even if the inspector is killed, the magistrate may still try to frame him, caring nothing for the trouble that would follow.
But Kaelan cannot allow the inspector to die. Not out of sympathy, but because he despises the magistrate and intends to teach him a lesson.
Yet he has no intention of saving the inspector himself. That is where the Chen Village comes into play. He did not give them his precious blood seeds merely in exchange for martial techniques, but also to bind them to his will, to make them carry out his bidding.
He cannot step into human territory now, so they must act in his place.
Closing his eyes once more, Kaelan channels the secret technique that binds him to those who carry his blood seed, sending out a call to the Chen clansmen whose bodies were transformed by his power.
In the Chen family village, twenty-one people asleep in their homes suddenly jolt awake as their blood begins to burn. They immediately recognise it as the crow demon's blood within them, pulsing like a signal. One by one, they leave their houses and gather in the village centre.
After the discussion, they conclude that the crow demon is summoning them. The burning isn't continuous—it flares for a few seconds, stops, then returns again—making it clear it isn't meant to harm them.
The village chief decides he will go, since he is the fastest, and promises to return with the crow demon's message. Within an hour, he arrives at the cliff.
Chen Qi steps forward beneath the towering rock face, bowing respectfully. Kaelan's voice drifts down, and he recounts his encounter with the magistrate's clerk. Then, with sharp finality, he gives his order: Chen Qi is to protect the inspector and bring him to the cliff.
He adds a second command—to send one clansman carrying his blood seed as an envoy, inviting the fox demons to meet with him.
Before Chen Qi departs, Kaelan's feathers stir. Twenty blood seeds take form, dark and glimmering, and fall into Chen Qi's palms. The demon's voice carries faint amusement as he remarks that the week's end is near, and giving them a day early makes no difference.
-------
At dawn, the magistrate wakes and is quickly informed of the messenger owl's return, the red thread tied to its leg clear in its message. His expression hardens.
"Tell the Blood Hunt bandits to watch the road to the prefecture capital," he orders coldly. "Anyone travelling in a black carriage—kill them."
The man bows and turns to leave.
"Wait."
The magistrate's voice cuts through the air like a blade. "Follow the bandits. When the inspector is dead, scatter demon crow feathers across the battlefield. Let the blame fall where it should."
The man nods and hurries out.
Alone, the magistrate murmurs to himself, "If you will not serve me, then there is no need for you to exist."
—
At the same time, within the Min family estate, a large room is filled with tension. Min Zhentao, Min Jinhai, Min Xuelian, the family elders, and the Spring Cloud Sect disciples all sit together. Yet the head seat does not belong to Zhentao.
Zhu Mingjin occupies it, his presence heavy, his cultivation far above the rest.
"The crow demon still lingers on the cliff," he says, eyes glinting. "Fellows, such an opportunity will not come again. A demon beast of the Core Formation realm—its core is worth the risk."
One disciple blurts nervously, "Uncle, how can we possibly hunt such a demon? Even united, we're no match."
Others echo in fear.
Min Zhentao speaks with careful restraint, unwilling to provoke him, yet unwilling to remain silent. "Nephew Mingjin, I want to help you. But truthfully, even together, we cannot rival a Core Formation demon."
He calls him nephew only because his granddaughter, Min Xuelian, calls him uncle. Otherwise, custom would demand he address Mingjin as senior.
Zhu Mingjin's gaze sweeps the room, cold and confident. "Do not worry," he says. "I have a way to kill the crow demon."
----
A Chen clansman approaches the hillside, heart pounding, and before him stands a young woman with delicate features, her fox tail slipping from beneath her dress the only sign of her true nature.
She narrows her eyes and lifts her hand to strike, but he releases his aura, the mix of human breath and crow demon's blood rolling through the air, and she halts, suspicion freezing her hand.
He delivers the invitation in clipped words and then turns without waiting for reply, leaving her to watch him vanish down the path.
She returns to the hill, slipping into the hidden mouth of a tunnel, where darkness leads into winding passages that twist into a den of stone and shadow.
Fox demons in human guise and fox form greet her in passing as she walks deeper, until at last she enters a cavern vast as a hall, furnished with chairs, tables, and partitions that mimic the warmth of a mortal house.
She calls out, voice light with habit, "Grandma, Grandma, where are you?"
An old voice drifts from deeper within, "In the kitchen."
She steps through the doorway, the air rich with a scent both savory and metallic, and sees her grandmother bent over a pot, stirring slow circles.
"Grandma, what are you cooking?" she asks with eager eyes.
"Your favorite—finger soup," the old woman answers, and as the spoon turns, pale human fingers bob to the surface.
The granddaughter smiles and says softly, "My favorite."
"Then why are you calling me?" the old woman asks without pausing.
"Grandma, today I had to let a human go," the girl replies.
The stirring slows, surprise flickering across the old woman's voice. "Is it connected with the magistrate? Was he sent to tell us to kill the inspector?"
"No," the girl shakes her head.
"Who then?"
"The human carried the blood of a powerful demon," the granddaughter whispers. "He said he came to invite us, on behalf of the great crow demon."
The spoon halts, silence spreading with the weight of her words, for only a core demon could plant blood within others and call them to act.
The old woman's eyes narrow with both wariness and respect as she sets down the ladle. "Then we shall visit him this evening."