Chapter 13: Among the Followers of the Demon Sect

The bandit, uneasy and restless, walked to the entrance of the stone cave and took several deep breaths to steady himself. Still seven or eight steps from the door, he turned to glance at Su Yi.

Su Yi held a bow in one hand, and in the other, he drew a feathered arrow from the quiver and nocked it. His entire muscular frame poured its strength into the posture, and with the aid of a thumb ring, he easily pulled the bowstring to its full draw.

In this world, thanks to the existence of inner force, the power of bow and arrow is greatly amplified. The bow Su Yi had seized from the bandits was certainly above two hundred pounds in draw weight—beyond the ability of those bandits to fully draw, yet Su Yi could. In truth, this bow was still unable to realize the full extent of Su Yi’s strength.

His eyes stared straight ahead, his entire body like a statue forged of steel and sinew, radiating an aura of power. His hands held the posture without the slightest tremor.

At this distance, Su Yi was supremely confident—if only a crack in the door could be opened, he could shoot through and kill whoever lurked behind with a single arrow.

Witnessing Su Yi’s display of prowess, the bandit’s heart calmed a little. He stepped up to the door, knocked three times on the iron ring, each sound crisp and clear.

After a moment, a sinister voice emerged from within the cave. “What is it?”

“Reporting, Chief! I am Lin San. I have urgent news for you. Su Biao and his men ambushed and captured a wandering martial artist on the mountain road. He’s quite formidable. Please decide how we should proceed.”

Through interrogating two bandits, Su Yi had learned that the day the demonic expert stormed Watercloud Stronghold, the previous chief was subdued within moments. After subduing the bandits and establishing his dominance, the old demon used a strange and wicked technique, pressing his palm atop the former chief’s head and draining his inner force as if scraping out his marrow, leaving him crippled. Then, he ordered the bandits to hurl the man off the cliff to his death.

The bandits speculated that this old demon could restore his own injuries by absorbing others’ inner force. Ever since, he instructed them: if they encountered lone, capable martial artists during ambushes, those who survived were to be brought to him.

Just yesterday, the bandits ambushed a wealthy young man riding a fine horse and carrying a sword—an up-and-coming swordsman known as the Returning Wind Willow. Unlucky, he was struck in both arms and a leg by their arrows, then captured and brought to Watercloud Stronghold. The old demon drained his inner force and killed him on the spot, then distributed the young man’s possessions to his men in good spirits.

“Well done! Bring him here, quickly,” the old demon’s voice revealed keen anticipation.

“Yes, Chief.” The bandit, as if granted amnesty, retreated to a safe distance outside the cave.

The sound of the bolt being drawn echoed. Su Yi focused intently, knowing the crucial moment had arrived.

The door opened!

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In a flash, Su Yi loosed the string. The arrow shot forth like lightning, piercing through the barely half-hand-wide gap in the door.

A muffled grunt rang out, but Su Yi remained unmoved. His right hand swiftly plucked another arrow from the quiver and drew his bow.

“Bold, indeed!”

With a furious roar, the door swung wide. Out from the cave darted an old man in black, specter-like, his knees shattered, blood streaming from his shoulder—the clear result of Su Yi’s arrow.

Su Yi released another shot.

The old man flicked his iron staff, shattering the incoming arrow. The force sent him veering off course in midair.

Su Yi noted carefully—his arrow had struck the old man’s right shoulder. In this world, much like reality, most people favored their right hand when wielding weapons. Although the old man had managed to block the shot midair with his left hand, his movements were noticeably less agile.

Now Su Yi felt assured, clarity shining in his mind.

The old man’s trajectory angled toward the bandit who had fled. As he was about to land, the iron staff tapped the ground, propelling him like a wisp of smoke, swift and elusive. He narrowly dodged another arrow from Su Yi, then, with a single leap, intercepted the fleeing bandit. The iron staff swept across his waist, slicing the bandit in two before he could utter a scream. Innards scattered across the ground, a grisly sight.

Such terrifying staff technique, such ethereal agility.

Su Yi marveled inwardly. Though the old man’s lightness skill wasn’t necessarily faster than Su Yi’s own speed, his manner was undeniably elegant. Despite being a blood-soaked fiend, Su Yi had to admit the man’s high-flying techniques were impressively stylish.

Su Yi was about to draw again, intent on finishing the wounded old man, when the latter suddenly bellowed, “Stop!”

Hearing this, Su Yi paused, curious what the old demon might say.

“May I ask who you are, young man? Do you know who I am?” The wounded old man, reluctant to engage in needless combat, sought to find a way out.

“I tracked the bandits here after their ambush. I don’t know who you are. Why don’t you tell me?” Su Yi wanted to know his identity. He’d come to Watercloud Stronghold not only to vent his anger and uphold justice, but also to seize the opportunity to finish off an injured demonic expert and profit from it. Learning more about the opponent was indeed wise.

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“I am Duan Yan, an elder of the Primordial Demon Sect,” declared the old man proudly.

Su Yi was stirred. According to his knowledge of this world, the Primordial Demon Sect was a top-tier demonic organization in the martial realm, unmatched by any orthodox sect. Its members were ruthless and vengeful; no sane person would willingly provoke them.

“Your archery is formidable, I must admit. But masters abhor powerful bows and crossbows—what matters is quantity. Though I am wounded, I am not made of clay. If you possess the skill to fire arrows in rapid succession, perhaps I might fear you. These bandits deserved death, but if you leave now, our paths will not cross. As an elder of the Demon Sect, I guarantee you will not be pursued. Otherwise, the outcome remains uncertain. Consider carefully.”

His tone was dark and threatening, mixing menace and persuasion.

“Very well, I’ll leave!” Su Yi feigned contemplation, lowering his bow.

A hint of joy flickered across the old man’s impassive face. At last, this mysterious enemy seemed to have chosen wisely.

The bow lifted, the string sang!

The old man, furious, spun his iron staff like a whirlwind, knocking aside the arrow. Yet the blow aggravated his wounded shoulder, causing blood to gush anew.

“I’ll kill you!”

No longer willing to be a live target, the old man let out a piercing shriek, thunderous as if exploding beside Su Yi’s ears, setting his blood surging and his vision spinning, slowing his movements for a beat.

A shadow rushed in.