Shu Mingye had been fighting for over a day straight.
No breaks. No meals. No peace. Just nonstop swinging, slashing, dodging, and occasionally yelling at people to stop dying so loudly.
The demons kept coming.
To make things worse, all the spiritual energy flying around in the air was basically turning the battlefield into a big glowing sign that said, "Attention, high-level demons: free snacks here!"
There were only five assassins left now. But the soldiers were done. Completely done. They moved like overused training dummies—bloodied, bruised, and wobbling as if they'd fall over if the wind blew too hard. Shu Mingye had already ordered to drag the worst ones back inside the walls and told the half-conscious ones to lie down before they tripped over a rock and got eaten.
This had to end fast.
Really fast.
And then, because the universe apparently hated him, another high-level demon stomped onto the scene.
A level seven Petrified Corpse Demon. Great.
The demon had the shape and size of a human—two legs, two arms—but that was where the similarities ended. Its skin was gray, dry, and cracked. Thin lines split its limbs, and strange bark-like tendons jutted out all over its body. From its back, thick branches had sprouted, twisting and moving wildly.
Its head was bald, but not in a clean way. There was no hair, only thin branches and small vines growing straight from its scalp.
There were no eyes in the place where eyes should have been. Just two deep, hollow sockets, dark and depthless, as if they led straight into the abyss.
Its jaw was stiff, stuck halfway open. The lips were gone, rotted away, leaving behind a row of splintered, wood-like teeth.
Its fingers were long vines, covered in thorns. The vines twitched and curled, stretching farther than they should have been able to. The ends had hardened into sharp, stone-like claws. Definitely not ideal.
As a whole, it lived up to its name. Petrified corpse. Ugly, old, and dangerous.
Its steps were heavy, slow, and stiff. But the branches on its back were the problem. They were fast. Way too fast. They cut through the air with sharp cracks, already swinging before Shu Mingye could move.
One soldier didn't stand a chance.
The branches struck fast—sharp and brutal. They stabbed straight through his armor, lifting him off the ground. His scream cut short as his skin cracked, dried, and stiffened. His body turned into something gray and lifeless. The demon absorbed his spiritual energy in seconds. When it was done, it flung him across the battlefield like a piece of garbage.
Shu Mingye's jaw tightened.
No more playing around.
He stepped forward and raised his sword. Fire spiritual energy exploded around the blade, wrapping it in red heat. He slashed, fast and clean. The fire coiled through the air and cut into the demon's branches. Wood snapped, sparks flew, and a few burning pieces fell to the ground. But more branches burst from the demon's back immediately—longer, faster, sharper.
Shu Mingye raised his sword again, ready to strike. But one of the masked assassins decided this was the perfect time to throw a dagger at his face.
He sidestepped without even looking. Because apparently, one demon-tree monster wasn't exciting enough. Someone had to add a mini-boss.
Then WHAM.
A huge branch smashed into him. He didn't have time to block. It hit his side, hard, and sent him flying straight into the ground. The impact shook the dirt. Dust shot up. Rocks cracked. The earth groaned.
"Ow," Shu Mingye didn't say it, but he definitely thought it. Saying it out loud would hurt his dignity more than the demon had hurt him.
The assassin, sensing a golden opportunity, summoned wind spiritual energy. The air around him shimmered, twisted and then suddenly, razor-sharp gusts exploded in every direction.
They came at him from every direction—left, right, even one sneaky one trying to nip at his backside. Rude.
For half a second, Shu Mingye considered staying down. The ground was nice. Cool. Supportive.
Then he remembered he had a reputation to keep. And a demon to burn.
He raised his hand. Fire flared to life, swirling in his palm, wild and hungry. The flames didn't wait. They danced upward with sharp cracks, twisting into the air. With one smooth flick of his wrist, Shu Mingye sent the fire forward. It shot through, spiraling fast like a fiery tornado and crashing into the wind blades the assassin had sent.
Boom!
Fire and wind clashed midair, the elements colliding with a loud sizzle before bursting apart into steam and sparks.
Dramatic.
But there was no time to admire his handiwork.
The Petrified Corpse demon, being a deeply rude opponent, was not just standing around watching and clapping. Its branches kept swinging and slapping around. Shu Mingye ducked under one, rolled to the side, then immediately had to dodge another. He was quick, fast enough to avoid getting crushed but not fast enough to avoid everything. The tip of one branch scraped along his ribs.
Hot pain bloomed across his side. Sharp and immediate. Blood started to pour through his robe. Sticky. Warm. Annoying.
He glanced at the assassin, just in time to see the guy get yanked across the battlefield. A massive branch smacked him out of the air with a loud whack, and a second one stabbed him through the chest before he even hit the ground.
The assassin didn't move after that.
"… Huh. Should I thank the demon for once?"
He considered it for a beat.
"Nope."
He didn't do gratitude. Especially not to a creepy tree monster with no eyes.
By now, Shu Mingye was far past his limit. He had ridden nonstop for three days, fought without sleeping, bled more than any respectable person should, and was still going. His spiritual energy was low, too low, and he kept forcing his body to gather more.
It burned. It pulled. It screamed. But he kept pushing.
It would absolutely backfire. He knew it. Probably soon. Maybe in a dramatic explosion or a sudden blackout. But this wasn't the worst he'd gone through. Not even close. He had survived worse in the north. This was just… annoying.
He narrowed his eyes at the demon, ignoring the blood, the pain, and the fact that half his body wanted to lie down and become a rock.
Taking this thing down was the first priority.
Then maybe, maybe, a nap.
The Petrified Corpse demon clearly had no intention of letting him relax.
With a sharp breath, he raised his sword, fire roaring to life along its blade. The flames flared high, bright and furious, matching the heat burning in his veins. He swung it down with force, slicing through the writhing branches.
CRACK—FWOOSH!
The blade sliced through several writhing branches. One burst into flames instantly. The fire crawled along the twisted wood, licking its way up toward the demon's back. For a moment, it looked promising.
Then—pffz. The flames fizzled out halfway.
"Not enough?" he muttered, annoyed.
Apparently, the demon thought the same, because now earth spiritual energy was pulsing through its body and branches. Heavy and buzzing. The bark on its back split open with a loud, cracking sound like a thousand trees snapping at once. Dozens of thorned branches shot forward, each one tipped with glowing faint yellow earth spiritual energy that hardened into stone spikes mid-air.
Shu Mingye spun his blazing sword in an arc, fire roaring to life as it moved. The air shimmered from the heat. Then boom—a wave of fire exploded outward, slicing through the incoming storm of branches. Flames and force collided with wood. The first wave of thorns shattered into burning splinters that rained down in smoking chunks.
Some of them bounced off his shoulder. One hit his foot.
He ignored it.
Not to be outdone, the demon raised both of its thick arms. They shimmered with pulsing earth spiritual energy before slamming into the ground. The ground rippled before exploding upward in jagged stone teeth rushing straight for him. The impact sent a massive shockwave across the battlefield. Dirt flew. Rocks scattered. Several exhausted soldiers nearby yelped as they toppled over.
At the last possible second, Shu Mingye jumped. Not just a normal jump—a full spiritual energy–enhanced leap into the air. The stone wave crashed beneath him, missing his boot by inches. He landed gracefully, boots skidding against the cracked ground. His side throbbed sharply.
Great. Definitely bleeding more now. He barely had time to complain mentally before more chaos arrived.
"Lord! A group of four wearing strange masks is coming!" a soldier yelled from the side, panicked and pointing.
Shu Mingye blinked. Strange masks? Great. More assassins?Demon's friends?
He turned around slowly, already bracing himself for another headache… and froze.
What greeted him made his tired brain short-circuit.
He stared. And then his brain, tired and already hanging on by a thread, simply gave up.
Shu Mingye started laughing. Loud, uncontrollable laughter that echoed across the battlefield. Even the demon paused. Its branches twitched mid-air. It tilted its head, visibly unsure if it was supposed to keep fighting or wait for the mental breakdown to finish.
Because marching toward the fight—dead serious, dramatic entrance and all—were four ridiculous figures.
One wore a round, chubby rabbit mask.
One had a cheeky fox mask, complete with a sly smirk.
One had a grumpy, sleep deprived looking panda mask.
And last, a smug monkey mask that somehow managed to look insufferable even from a distance.
Shu Mingye didn't even need to guess. He knew exactly who these clowns were.
No one else would think it was a good idea to wear festival masks to a demon fight. No one else would casually turn a bloody battlefield into a traveling circus or a zoo.
And the worst part? The masks actually suited them.
Of course they did.
Shu Mingye waved a hand at the nearest soldier, still laughing like a maniac.
"Leave them be," he said between laughs.
The soldier stared at him.
All around them: demons roaring, trees on fire, branches flying, and somewhere in the distance, someone was definitely screaming.
But orders were orders. If the Lord said "ignore the zoo escapees," then… they would.