The Man in Black's attack came without warning—a gleaming projectile that cut through the mountain air with deadly precision. Gustave's Observation Haki screamed danger a split second before the hidden weapon would have found its mark.
This isn't ordinary steel.
Rather than test his enhanced durability against an unknown threat, Gustave dissolved into crackling lightning, his elemental form scattering into electric arcs that danced away from the projectile's path.
The weapon struck the mountainside behind him with tremendous force. Rock exploded outward in a cascade of debris as a crater twenty meters wide gouged itself into the stone. The destructive power rivaled some of Ladon's claw strikes—enough to shatter ribs even through his enhanced physique.
"Sang Démoniaque: Désintégration!" The Man in Black's voice carried across the clearing as his body suddenly collapsed into hundreds of writhing fragments. Each piece shot off in a different direction like a swarm of bats fleeing the dawn.
Gustave's lightning form crackled with frustration as he reformed, electromagnetic senses tracking the scattered remnants. One fragment burned brighter in his perception—marked by the lingering traces of his Thunder Mark technique.
"Clever, but not clever enough," he muttered, launching himself in pursuit.
The chase led him across jagged peaks and through dense forest. His quarry moved with desperate cunning, but electromagnetic signatures couldn't lie. When he finally cornered the marked fragment in a narrow ravine, Gustave's magnetic field seized it like an invisible fist.
Lightning coursed through his fingers as he prepared the killing blow. The fragment writhed, then crumbled to ash under the electrical assault—but something was wrong. The sensation was hollow, incomplete.
"Merde. A decoy."
His senses swept the area frantically, searching for any remaining traces of the Man in Black's aura. Nothing. The mastermind had used his own technique against him, marking a false fragment while his true essence escaped elsewhere.
Gustave's jaw tightened. This opponent had been planning for decades—underestimating him would be fatal.
The flight back to Renjia Town revealed a scene of confrontation. Zhang Zhiwei stood in the Ren family courtyard, golden light wreathing his form like protective armor. Before him, the Man in Black clutched at a bleeding wound, his face twisted with desperate fury.
"Since I cannot survive," the Man in Black snarled, blood flowing between his fingers, "you cannot expect to die peacefully either!"
Zhang Zhiwei's expression remained serene despite the threat. "Your schemes end here, feng shui master. Twenty years of stolen fortune—did you think there would be no reckoning?"
The Man in Black's laugh was bitter as broken glass. "Reckoning? You know nothing! I was the one who discovered the Dragonfly Touches Water site first. The Ren family stole it from me with threats and gold, but I made sure Old Master Ren's corpse would claim it back with interest."
Ren Fa stepped forward, confusion and growing anger warring on his features. "What are you talking about? My father paid you fairly for that burial site!"
"Paid?" The Man in Black spat blood. "Your father threatened to have me beaten and driven from the province if I didn't sell. But I had already calculated the perfect revenge—bury him in that cursed earth, let his corpse drain your family's accumulated fortune drop by drop. Twenty years I waited, watching your decline, preparing for tonight when the last of your luck would finally be mine."
Understanding dawned in Gustave's eyes as he landed silently behind the group. This had never been about grave robbery—it was sophisticated supernatural theft spanning two decades.
"But you failed," Zhang Zhiwei stated simply. His Golden Light Curse intensified, forcing the Man in Black to shield his eyes. "Your zombie was destroyed. Your ritual was interrupted. Accept defeat with whatever dignity remains to you."
"Defeat?" The Man in Black laughed again, and this time madness crept into the sound. "I still have one final card to play!"
Before anyone could react, he drew a bloody cross across his forehead with trembling fingers. His voice rose to a howl that seemed to echo from somewhere far beyond the mortal realm.
"Demon God! I offer the stolen fortune of the Ren family and my own worthless life as sacrifice! By the covenant of blood and gold, I summon you to this realm!"
Zhang Zhiwei lunged forward, but supernatural forces were already in motion. The Man in Black brought his fist down on his own skull with sickening force—not to kill himself, but to complete the ritual with his own blood and bone.
The world held its breath.
Wind died to perfect stillness. The chirping of night insects ceased abruptly. Even the distant sounds of Renjia Town faded to unnatural silence, as if reality itself was drawing back in anticipation.
A crimson magic circle blazed to life where the Man in Black's body had collapsed. Eldritch symbols writhed within the burning lines—characters that hurt to look at directly. The circle pulsed once, twice, and then something began to emerge from its center.
What appeared was not the towering demon one might expect, but a chubby child wearing nothing but a red bellyband. Golden bracelets adorned his wrists and ankles, and his hair was tied in adorable pigtails. His cheeks were round and rosy, his smile innocent and bright.
"Oh, what a cute little doll!" Ren Tingting exclaimed, her fear momentarily forgotten.
Gustave and Zhang Zhiwei exchanged sharp looks. Their supernatural senses painted a very different picture—this 'child' radiated malevolent power that made the air itself recoil. The oppressive aura was like standing too close to a bonfire made of human malice.
The demonic child looked down at the Man in Black's corpse with curious eyes. "So you're the one who summoned me?" he asked in a voice like tinkling bells.
Without warning, the child's mouth stretched impossibly wide—far beyond human limits—revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. The corpse vanished down his gullet in a single grotesque gulp.
"Burp!" The child patted his belly with satisfaction. "A bit stringy, but rich with stolen luck. Not bad for an appetizer."
Ren Tingting's face went white as parchment. Ren Fa grabbed his daughter's arm, pulling her behind him with protective instinct.
"Since that fellow summoned me and I accepted his offering," the child continued cheerfully, "it's only proper that I honor our contract. You people seem like you'd make a lovely main course!"
His innocent smile stretched into something predatory.
Zhang Zhiwei stepped forward, golden light blazing around him like a miniature sun. When he spoke, his voice carried the authority of sixty-five generations of Heavenly Masters.
"I am Zhang Zhiwei, sixty-fifth Heavenly Master of Longhu Mountain. By the ancient laws of challenge, I request formal combat with you, Demon God."
The child tilted his head, studying Zhang Zhiwei with newfound interest. "Oh my! Your aura... it's almost as strong as that old immortal who founded your precious mountain sect. How fascinating! It's been centuries since I faced someone truly worthy."
The demonic pressure around the child intensified, making the air shimmer like heat waves. Even Zhang Zhiwei's golden barrier flickered under the assault.
"Though I do wonder," Gustave interjected, his voice cutting through the supernatural tension, "wouldn't a proper battle be better conducted somewhere with more room to maneuver? Renjia Town has shown us such hospitality—it would be unfortunate if our fight accidentally erased it from existence."
The child's predatory grin faltered slightly. "Hmm. The mortal makes a valid point. Destroying too many innocents brings unwanted attention from the heavenly bureaucrats. Such tedious paperwork..." He shrugged. "Very well! Let's find somewhere more suitable for our dance of death."
Gustave blinked in surprise. He'd expected to have to argue more forcefully, perhaps deploy his electromagnetic barriers as a last resort. The demon's casual agreement caught him off guard—but he wasn't about to question their good fortune.
"Excellent thinking, fellow Taoist," Zhang Zhiwei murmured, already preparing to launch himself skyward. "Thirty kilometers should provide sufficient clearance."
The child—the Demon God—clapped his hands together with childish delight. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun! I do hope you're more entertaining than the last few immortals I fought. They broke far too quickly."
With that ominous promise hanging in the air, the three figures shot into the night sky, leaving behind a courtyard full of shaken mortals and one very confused Ren family.