Chapter 56: Bird or Man

The two bird-men paused for a moment upon seeing me and the old man, then launched their attack. The leader darted forward, his fist swinging toward me. I couldn’t see how he moved—just felt a gust of wind rushing straight at my face. I raised my arm to shield my head, absorbing most of the blow.

“Are you a bird or a man?” I asked, uncertain if he understood my words.

He glanced at me, offering no reply. Before he could strike again, I gripped my Frost Sword and thrust it toward him. He ducked quickly, dodging the blade. Meanwhile, the other bird-man joined the fray. The old man retreated into the stone cave, watching our battle as if it were entertainment.

The two bird-men flanked me, one to the left, one to the right. I conjured a protective shield three meters around me and unleashed laser beams from my eyes. Two dazzling columns of light shot toward one bird-man, who failed to evade—white smoke billowed from his shoulder. He clutched it, wincing in pain, while I continued to attack with my lasers. Recognizing the threat, he darted left and right, making it hard to land a hit.

Their speed astonished me—phantom images flickered through the cramped space, faster than I could ever hope to move, even with my cultivation. The other bird-man beat his wings, soaring above my head in circles. The laser beams grew weaker and finally vanished. My vision darkened; I nearly fainted.

With the light gone, both bird-men attacked at once. The sudden blindness lasted only an instant, but on the battlefield, a moment’s delay could mean death. Pain stabbed my chest, warm blood flowed from where my carotid artery had been slashed. One bird-man’s hand plunged into my heart, while the other raked my artery with sharp claws. Gripping my Frost Sword, I swung fiercely at the bird-man’s arm—he didn’t withdraw in time, and I severed it. I yanked his limb free and tossed it aside, then swept my blade toward the other bird-man.

The bird-man whose arm I’d cut off was howling in agony, but my target now was the one whose shoulder had been pierced by my laser. Seeing me fight back despite my injuries, he hesitated to engage directly. He circled overhead, my attacks missing again and again. Blood continued to gush from my wounded neck, my head grew ever more dizzy. If this went on, I’d either be toyed to death by the bird-men or bleed out. A swift resolution was needed.

I couldn’t understand why the old man wouldn’t help, nor why the bird-men didn’t attack him. I leapt up, Frost Sword glowing white, slashing at the bird-man above. But he was too quick, and wounded as I was, my strike missed. Still, it forced him to descend. I watched for his landing—before he could steady himself, I hurled my sword. This time, the blade flew at triple speed, giving him no chance to dodge. The Frost Sword shot toward him like a cannonball.

Just as he was about to be impaled, he grabbed his maimed companion and dragged him in front. The sword struck the wounded bird-man square in the heart, piercing his chest and continuing onward until only the hilt remained buried in his body. The bird-man used his companion as a shield, stepping back but still wounded—the sword’s tip embedded three inches in his flesh. He shoved the corpse at me; I caught the sword’s hilt and pulled it free, but the injured bird-man fled into the passage as I withdrew the blade.

Despicable bird-man, sacrificing his own kind to escape. I prepared to pursue him, but darkness swam before my eyes and I nearly collapsed, steadying myself with the sword’s tip on the ground, breathing heavily on one knee.

Only then did the old man approach. I glanced at him coldly—eager to hear his explanation. I had nearly lost my life, while he watched idly from the sidelines. I did all this to help him defeat the Water Spirit, and though I also sought Murong Xue’s soul, I had promised to help him even before I knew the soul was hidden in Black Dragon Pool.

It seems being a good person isn’t so easy. I gave a bitter smile and struggled to stand. The old man produced a small black bottle from his robes and handed it to me. “This is a pill refined from human spiritual energy. Take it.”

I hesitated, looking at the bottle. I was human—how could I absorb the essence of another? I stowed the bottle in my spatial ring and dragged my weary body into the passageway.

The old man’s voice came from behind: “Wait, young friend.” I turned to him, knowing he had more to say. If he couldn’t give a reasonable explanation, I would abandon the hunt for the Water Spirit. Even if he withheld Murong Xue’s soul’s location, I’d find it myself. I despised false kindness; when trouble came, no one lent a hand. I had felt that helplessness since childhood.

He came forward, tearing a strip from his clothing to bind my neck wound, then supported me into the passage, saying, “You must blame me for not helping. But you don’t know the truth!”

He explained: the reason he hadn’t assisted was that the Water Spirit had stolen centuries of his cultivation. On land, he was no stronger than an ordinary mortal. Though he could revert to human form, his diminished powers only allowed him to remain human for two hours; afterward, he’d need three days before he could transform again. This time, to hunt the Water Spirit, he’d forcibly extended his transformation with his remaining energy. If he failed, he might never regain human form.

Understanding dawned—I saw his pain. To suddenly become a monster, forced to endure a hideous body for centuries, what torment that must be! For his sake, and for Murong Xue, the Water Spirit had to die today.

I circulated the black qi within my meridians, letting my wounds slowly heal. Without the power of the Dragon Pattern, I couldn’t recover instantly, only mend light injuries with the demonic energy in my body. As long as I avoided fatal wounds, I’d be fine.

But demonic energy was dangerous—whenever I used it, a murderous impulse surfaced, urging me to destroy all living things before me. I didn’t know how such evil had entered me, and feared that one day I might lose control, consumed by its backlash. So before my wounds were fully healed, I suppressed the black qi in my dantian; better to avoid it whenever possible. Qin Tian also had demonic energy—was it from the Dragon Pattern? I couldn’t think of a better explanation. I had to tell Qin Tian about this when I returned, lest the consequences become dire.

“Don’t worry, old man. The Water Spirit will die.”

He gave me a grateful look. I took the lead, walking out of the passage, Frost Sword gripped tightly. After the fight with the bird-men, I realized that whether demonic or true qi, it was best not to use them unless necessary. My laser attack had drained my qi; if not for that, I wouldn’t have given the bird-men an opening, nearly losing my life. Now, I could only rely on martial skills to hunt the Water Spirit. It seemed I needed to train the Thirty-Six Forms of the Heavenly Demon more diligently.

As for the Thirty-Seventh Form, I’d best avoid it. Last time I used it, it triggered my demonic energy, turning my eyes red—still unable to revert to their normal black. Arriving at the fork, one passage led outside, another to the left. As I was about to enter the left passage, a thunderous noise echoed from the tunnel leading outside. The Water Spirit strode in, taking great steps.