Kaelan and Huang Lang stand aside, wings folded, eyes scanning the forest as Bai Huli and the others count the spoils of their victory.
Bai Huli returns first, her scales gleaming, followed by She Ling, Mei Rong, and Yu Lian, each carrying piles of data and notes from the battlefield.
Bai Huli speaks, voice sharp with authority, "We have 187 human corpses. One is an ultimate martial art master, seven supreme masters, twelve grand masters, nineteen great masters, twenty-five masters, and the rest are inferior martial artists. Selling them will yield at least ten thousand low-level demon stones, most from the ultimate martial art master Kaelan slew. After selling, Kaelan takes thirty per cent, the rest is divided among the five of us."
Mei Rong adds, "The magic instruments and other valuables will fetch another ten thousand demon stones, divided as before. The surviving humans' value depends on negotiations with a slave owner, but I estimate another ten thousand low-level demon stones."
Huang Lang's eyes gleam with urgency. "Let's go to the demon city to sell them first, or the human corpses will begin to rot and lose value."
A chorus of agreement rises from the others.
Bai Huli claps her claws sharply, commanding the demons to construct carts.
Once the carts are ready, human corpses are piled atop them, treasures secured in one, and the surviving humans are made to walk under watchful eyes.
Shi Ling and Yu Lian remain behind, guarding the rift's entrance with a handful of demons, while the rest of the group, Kaelan perched above, leads the carts deeper into the eastern forest.
Large demons strain under the weight of the carts; others flank them, guarding both the cargo and the path.
Kaelan's eyes scan from above, alert for any threats, talons flexing, wings poised for instant flight.
The forest swallows their passage, shadows stretching as they move, the spoils of war marking their trail.
Passing through countless demon dens, the stench of human corpses drifts like a beacon, drawing curious and hungry eyes from the creatures within.
Yet none dare attack.
Kaelan's aura sweeps across the canopy, vast and unyielding, and the demons instead approach to negotiate for the goods in the convoy, offering fair trade to avoid confrontation.
By the next dawn, the eastern horizon bleeding gold, they reach the gates of the demon city.
Already, sixty per cent of their loot is sold, the coins of victory tallying nineteen thousand five hundred eighty-six low-level demon stones.
The demon city rises between twin mountains, its walls jagged but formidable, and at its centre towers a colossal tree, canopy spreading like a shield over the city, leaves glinting under the rising sun.
Kaelan shrinks to the size of a normal crow, landing lightly atop Bai Huli's head as they pass the gates and enter.
Inside, the city sprawls with irregular buildings, rooftops twisted and leaning, and floating structures suspended by magic, hovering above narrow streets.
Perched on Bai Huli's head, Kaelan surveys the chaos, talons brushing her scales as they move through crowded avenues.
They visit several stores, selling treasures and wares with precise negotiation, coins and magical items trading hands, before reaching the slave market.
Here, the surviving humans are sold to a hulking pig demon, and cries and protests echo across the square.
The demon stones are divided: Kaelan claims eleven thousand five hundred eighty-nine low-level demon stones; the rest are split among Bai Huli, Huang Lang, and Mei Rong, leaving behind She Ling and Yu Lian's shares.
A brief council forms; they agree to separate within the city for a few hours to conduct individual business and meet later at the city gate.
Kaelan departs silently, wings folding as he moves to the demon palace building, talons brushing marble steps.
Within, he purchases the complete version of the Death Spirit cultivation technique, his gaze cold and focused.
He then studies the magical powers on display, securing two major abilities—Fierce Flame magic and the thirty-six solar term sword techniques.
After the purchases, he counts his remaining coins: seven hundred fifty-six demon stones, enough for discretion but nothing more.
He leaves the palace, folding into a shadow above the gate, waiting.
An hour passes before Bai Huli, Huang Lang, and Mei Rong gather; She Ling and Yu Lian remain at the ruin to guard it.
Together, the four of them—Kaelan, Bai Huli, Huang Lang, and Mei Rong—return toward the ruin, accompanied only by their subordinate demons, the morning sun illuminating their path.
Beyond the forest, a human city sprawls across a vast plane, golden farmlands stretching to the horizon, its black stone walls cutting a jagged line against the morning sky.
Within the walls, the city divides into miniature towns, each enclosed by its own barrier, some chaotic, streets twisting in every direction, buildings leaning and crowded, smells of refuse and smoke thick in the air.
Other towns are neat, streets straight and orderly, markets bustling with merchants and buyers, the scent of fresh bread and herbs mingling with leather and metal.
Elsewhere, sprawling estates rise like islands of calm, houses separated but connected by manicured gardens and stone paths winding between fountains, hedges, and flowering trees.
In the largest building of one estate, the main chamber rings with the sound of anguish, a woman's voice tearing through the halls.
"Three days have passed, and still you cannot bring justice to our son's death!" she cries, tears streaming down her face, hands clutching at the carved pillars as her grief and rage echo across the marble floor.
The estate feels heavy with sorrow, the gardens outside silent, the stone paths reflecting the sun in cold, unyielding lines, as the city beyond continues its life, unaware of the storm inside.
The woman is Ji Lianhua, mother of the demon hunter inspector captured by Chen Qi under Kaelan's orders, unaware her son still lives, her mind ablaze with grief and the certainty of his death, her fury tracing the crow feathers left behind on the battlefield straight to Kaelan.
In the main chamber, Ji Lianhua stands tall, shoulders tense, while two elderly men sit on either side, their faces solemn, their gazes fixed on the room but not on her, the empty chair between them a silent testament to her absence of peace.
Her eyes flick to her husband, seated in the centre, back against the wall, posture rigid, gaze locked on the door as if it could bring answers, and she trembles with anger, her voice breaking as she begins again, "Three days have passed, and still you cannot bring justice to our son's death."
The men remain quiet, their expressions betraying neither comfort nor guidance, leaving her grief to echo in the cavernous room, the weight of her fury pressing like stone against the walls.
Ji Lianhua's hands clench into fists, her voice rising as she urges the council, "We must take revenge against the crow demon who slew my son and left his mark across the battlefield!"
One elder leans forward, "On the battlefield, corpses of blood hunt bandits were also present… Wang Xian's fate is suspicious. Without proper investigation, there may be more hidden truths behind his fall."
The other elder speaks with measured caution, "The crow demon is known to be a core formation demon. In our family, only the Great Elder possesses the strength to confront such a being—but even he, if he fights with full force, risks shortening his lifespan, or worse, death itself."
Ji Lianhua's gaze snaps toward her husband, his posture still rigid, his voice calm but firm, "The Great Elder is the foundation of this family. If he falls, our entire lineage would be imperilled. We cannot risk him for vengeance, no matter the cost."
Anger flashes across Ji Lianhua's face, her fists trembling as she steps toward the door, voice low but sharp, "You all speak of caution, but do not speak of justice!"
The maids wait outside the chamber, bowing respectfully but quick to follow, as Ji Lianhua storms past them, her skirts brushing the stone floor, leaving the council behind in tense silence.
Ji Lianhua storms back into her room, fury radiating from her every movement as she begins breaking objects, vases shattering, glass splintering across the floor.
The maids stand with their heads bowed, silent and still, letting the fragments fall on their bodies, wincing from cuts but making no sound.
After several minutes, Ji Lianhua takes a deep breath, the room quiet except for the faint ringing of broken porcelain.
Her eyes sweep the room, and she notices one maid missing.
"Where is Hua?" she demands.
One of the maids speaks carefully, "Madam, you ordered Hua to keep an eye on the demon hunters."
Ji Lianhua's lips press tight as she remembers her prior decision; she had already known the Wang family would not avenge her son, and only the Demon Hunters could help her exact vengeance.
She sits on the carved chair, voice cold and decisive, "Bring me something to eat."
An hour later, Hua returns, bowing deeply, and informs her that the Demon Hunters are sending a star envoy to investigate her son's death.
Ji Lianhua's eyes narrow, the fire of determination returning, and she decides she must involve herself in the investigation.
She turns to her maids, voice firm and commanding, "Prepare for the journey to Qinghe City."
Far above the forests, a large eagle soars, its wings catching the wind as it glides across the morning sky.
On its back sits Zhu Mingjin, accompanied by an elder from his sect, their expressions grave as the winds whip past them.
Word spreads quickly within the sect that Zhu Mingjin has lost the holy sword in battle, and though the loss stings, they know that facing a core realm demon is perilous.
After deliberation, the sect decides to open negotiations with the crow demon, seeking the return of the holy sword through dialogue rather than further bloodshed.
The sun rises fully over the forests and mountains, casting light on the world poised between vengeance, power, and negotiation.