Chapter Eight: Demonic Transformation and Collapse

The fox tail wound around the trunk, its fur grayish-white, trailing down to the ground. Each strand was as stiff as a steel needle, and whenever the tail twisted, flakes of "flesh and skin" would scatter from the tree. The once-lush branches of the great tree were now broken and scattered. At the crown of the tree, beneath the hem of a kimono, Xuanzhi crouched on a limb, bowing to the moon as a baby's wail echoed.

Xuanzhi's kimono sleeves were already torn to shreds. Her slender arms, now covered in fine fur, crossed atop the branch. Two fox ears protruded from behind her Noh mask, her head raised high, the exposed skin of her body taking on a decayed, grayish-white hue. She seemed cold and lifeless, as if no trace of vitality remained.

Li Fusi peered from behind his hiding tree. Xuanzhi's condition was dire—if he didn’t act soon, her body would begin to rot and collapse. Even if they managed to pull Xuanzhi back from the brink of her monstrous transformation, the damage to her body would be irreparable.

Li Fusi turned sideways, glancing toward Jian Dan, who was hiding beneath another tree. He signaled with a soft “shh,” and when Jian Dan looked over, Li Fusi jerked his head toward Xuanzhi.

Jian Dan’s body hadn’t undergone any demonic blood modifications. That earlier wail from Xuanzhi had left his eardrums aching. Realizing Li Fusi meant for him to go out and draw Xuanzhi’s attention, his face contorted in an involuntary mix of anger and shock.

If Li Fusi were to stride straight up to Xuanzhi, she’d surely resist, and their struggle would only harm her further. But did he really have to throw his best friend out as bait, even for his sister’s sake?

Li Fusi nodded insistently at Jian Dan, urging him on.

Jian Dan's face darkened. This was not the time to settle scores, so he could only grit his teeth and step out from behind the tree. Deliberately bounding sideways with a leap, he let out a loud “whoop” to attract Xuanzhi’s attention, then dashed off at full speed in another direction.

In an instant, Xuanzhi’s gaze snapped to him. Through the eyeholes of her Noh mask, her clouded pupils were laced with a web of blood-red threads.

Once Xuanzhi’s skin began to fester, those blood threads would gradually fade, her eyes growing murkier and turning yellow. By then, her eyeballs would have dissolved into pus, leaking from the corners of her eyes until only two hollow sockets remained. Simultaneously, her internal organs would rot away, leaving only a monstrous shell behind.

Thus, the three stages of a half-demon’s collapse into a mutant creature—decaying skin, festering flesh, and suppurating eyes and viscera—were always used as markers: the omen, the deterioration, and the death (mutation).

Li Fusi, watching from behind his tree, was shaken. “Damn it, why is Xuanzhi’s collapse progressing so quickly this time?”

Even as he thought this, Xuanzhi had already leapt from the tree. Her fox tail didn’t move her forward like a python; instead, it was her seemingly frail but monstrously strong limbs that propelled her, dragging the tail behind. The tail was no mere ornament—when it lashed, it snapped slender trees with ease.

At some point, sharp claws had grown from Xuanzhi’s hands and feet. Each time she raked the ground, she left deep pits behind. If Jian Dan were caught by those claws, even if he wasn’t torn apart, his flesh would be stripped to the bone.

Xuanzhi closed a hundred-meter distance in just a few seconds. Jian Dan, caught mid-leap, found himself with nowhere to dodge.

Xuanzhi let out a baby’s wail and, with both feet and tail braced against the ground, pounced, raising a claw toward Jian Dan’s head.

If that blow landed, even Jian Dan’s head would be smashed like a rotten melon.

In that split second, Jian Dan cleared his mind. Xuanzhi’s movements seemed to slow several times over in his eyes. Twisting in midair, he curled into a ball, his body momentarily defying gravity. As Xuanzhi’s claw swept past him, he rolled into her embrace.

With his back pressed to Xuanzhi’s chest, Jian Dan straightened his legs, gripped her outstretched arm, and somersaulted, hurling Xuanzhi through the air.

Master Shi once said that Jian Dan might be called “simple,” but his skills and mind were anything but. His martial prowess was at the eighth tier.

The martial arts of the Boundary Marker Organization differed from mundane practices. It’s said that, at the founding of the Boundary Marker, there was only the embryonic form of martial arts. In those days, the staff relied on worldly martial arts and technological weapons to hunt monsters, and victories were always hard-won.

With the arrival of half-demons, the two sides gradually refined their practices. Traditional forms were replaced with a martial system emphasizing speed, strength, and technique.

For half-demons especially, martial arts were divided into ten tiers. If two ordinary people of equal tier fought, the result would likely be a draw. But if two half-demons of equal martial rank clashed, their martial skills, combined with their innate abilities, could result in a tremendous power boost. Sometimes, a half-demon with weaker bloodlines but higher martial rank could even slay a superior.

Unfortunately, Jian Dan was not a half-demon. Landing, he immediately fled in the direction opposite to Xuanzhi, leaving the rest to Li Fusi.

Jian Dan had thrown Xuanzhi toward Li Fusi’s position.

A glint of focused light appeared in Li Fusi’s eyes, a mark of high-level martial discipline—when one’s mind is honed to its finest edge, it becomes almost tangible. Now was the moment to act, and Xuanzhi’s condition left no time for hesitation.

In less than twenty meters, Li Fusi flashed above Xuanzhi. Brother and sister, both suspended in midair, locked eyes.

Almost simultaneously, Li Fusi formed his hand into a palm and pressed it against Xuanzhi’s chest.

“Extreme Cold!”

Even demon blood must circulate through the heart. If Li Fusi could briefly freeze Xuanzhi’s heart, stopping it for a moment, he could subdue her and carry her back to the old house for treatment, while also slowing the collapse of her transformation.

This was Li Fusi’s favored method. As long as the pause wasn’t too long, Xuanzhi’s transformed body could withstand a brief cardiac arrest. The old house was right ahead—if this blow landed, she would be halfway to safety.

A mist of frost enveloped Li Fusi’s hand, then burst forth like a spring, silently striking the ground. In the next moment, frost spread, icing the surrounding trees.

But just as Li Fusi appeared, Xuanzhi used her fox tail to wrap around a tree, pulling herself out of the cold’s reach.

The plan failed in an instant. Li Fusi’s expression soured—he’d used this move too many times over the past ten years; even in her bestial state, Xuanzhi now instinctively guarded against it. With every second lost, the demonic blood’s corrosion deepened. Gritting his teeth, Li Fusi redirected the cold air to propel himself, flipping in midair to face Xuanzhi, who stood between him and Jian Dan. He drew a deep breath and shouted:

“Extreme Cold: Tidal Surge!”

A torrent of frigid air spewed from his mouth, sweeping over Xuanzhi in a flash and rolling toward Jian Dan not far away.

“Damn you, Li Fusi!”

Xuanzhi and the tree she was entwined with were both instantly frozen into a sculpture. Even for her, this was extreme—Jian Dan, despite his martial prowess, was still a mortal; such an indiscriminate attack left him only able to scream and curse.

After unleashing his chill, Li Fusi twisted and vanished, reappearing at the forefront of the freezing tide, blocking Jian Dan before it could engulf him.

The surging cold, as if meeting the firebricks of the Supreme Lord’s furnace, instantly vaporized into steam, the rest pouring past Li Fusi on either side.

Jian Dan collapsed onto his backside, sweat streaming down his face. Not even when the monstrous Xuanzhi lunged at him had he sweated so much; he glared at Li Fusi, too angry to speak.

Li Fusi dispersed the lingering cold, lest the surrounding vegetation perish, then called over his shoulder, “Let’s go!”

Xuanzhi’s fox tail was nearly ten meters long; dragging it would have made it harder to carry her. Now that both she and the tail were frozen to the tree, Li Fusi simply kicked the tree from its roots, hoisted the whole thing with Xuanzhi on his shoulder, and sped toward the old house.

Jian Dan watched in awe, cursing Li Fusi as a monster—his innate abilities, speed, and strength were all among the best of the half-demons. No one knew his true bloodline. In fact, every half-demon following the merit rankings was curious about the second-place “Passerby C’s” heritage.

The mountain was called Willow Hill, rising only a few hundred meters, surrounded by several nameless knolls whose highest points barely reached its midsection. Neither majestic nor perilous, Willow Hill stood unique among them. The mountain was lush with ancient trees and stubborn rocks, and thus some spiritual energy lingered. At this hour, morning mist rose, shrouding an ancient house, invisible unless one looked closely.

Willow Hill was wild—no famous sites, no village nearby—so few knew of the old house halfway up its slope, built in the ancient style.

A protruding cliff shaped like an open mouth crowned the hillside; beneath its overhang, the house was half-embedded in the mountain, its rear rooms carved into the rock itself. Over the indigo stone walls rose bestial ridge eaves, beneath which stood scarlet beams and columns, with two rough-hewn stone lions flanking the entrance—each a meter tall, exuding silent authority.

Pushing open the doors led to a broad, narrow courtyard: a well, a stone table with stools, and nothing more.

Ascending the stone steps, one entered the main hall, encircled by a broad corridor. Crossing four lattice doors, the great hall was simple—apart from the chief seat, two tables and chairs stood to either side.

An hour passed since Li Fusi had taken Xuanzhi inside. During this time, Jian Dan did not sit; bare-armed, he paced back and forth across the hall.

From the outside, the old house seemed no larger than this hall, but in truth, partitioned areas lined both sides—serving as both guest rooms and corridors. Beyond them lay an inner courtyard, carved straight into the mountain. Only Li Fusi and Master Shi knew its true extent.

The Li family too was an ancient half-demon clan, with a legacy of over a thousand years. But by Li Fusi’s generation, only the siblings remained.

The so-called inner courtyard was more like a passage to a hidden chamber. At the end of a shadowy corridor, Li Fusi opened a rusted iron door from within.

As the metal ground against the floor with a rumbling scrape, a glimpse of the chamber beyond was revealed.

By the entrance, two bronze stoves burned with open flames, but their light only reached a few meters before being swallowed by darkness. The chamber’s size was unknowable, with foggy blackness rolling like an abyss—one could never tell if mist or shadow was in motion. It always felt as if something alive lurked there, watching, or waiting with gaping maw for any who dared enter.

Li Fusi’s skin was pale to begin with, but now it was bloodless—clearly, this had taken a great toll on him. After closing the iron door, he gazed at it for a long moment, then turned and walked the dark corridor back to the hall.

Not long after Li Fusi left, fresh blood seeped from the gap beneath the iron door, pooling on the threshold. There, one would notice the traces of many older, dried bloodstains—this was no accident. Every time Xuanzhi was treated, this eerie scene repeated itself.

In the hall, Jian Dan saw Li Fusi emerge from the side room and hurried over. “How’s Xuanzhi?”

Li Fusi sat silently to the left of the chief seat. Jian Dan, unceremonious, took the right, resting his upper body on the table between them, waiting for Li Fusi to speak.

After a long time, Li Fusi finally exhaled deeply. His voice was low. “I managed to pull Xuanzhi back from the brink, but this time, the amount of Blood-Reviving Herb I used was double the usual. That’s not a good sign.”

Jian Dan could only sigh. “We expected as much. Blood-Reviving Herb is just a stopgap. You won’t let anyone else watch Xuanzhi’s treatment, and going by your description alone, something’s bound to be missing…”

Li Fusi replied helplessly, “It’s not that I won’t allow it. When she’s in that state, Xuanzhi’s subconscious fiercely resists being seen by others. If anyone else is present, she could relapse into a monstrous frenzy at any moment.”

Jian Dan kept sighing; there was nothing he could do but vent his frustration. “Of the eight biggest and oldest half-demon clans in the Kyoto region, only the Tianji family hasn’t helped yet, right? Hmph. They’re always putting on airs, and their prices are the highest, yet I’ve never heard of any earth-shattering secret arts from them. All day long it’s ‘Daoist this, Daoist that,’ but everything is too secret to share…”

He rambled on, each word draining more hope from the air. Li Fusi, already irritable, finally snapped: “Enough! If the half-demon clans can’t help, the Boundary Marker still has ‘Immortals.’ Even if Xuanzhi has to survive on Blood-Reviving Herb for the rest of her life, I won’t let her become a monster!”

Jian Dan knew he wasn’t wrong, but being yelled at, he could only swallow his retort for Xuanzhi’s sake, his face flushed, glaring at Li Fusi with clenched teeth.

But his features were too delicate, and the anger only made him look more alluring than fierce.

Both men were smoldering with frustration. After a brief standoff, they slumped back into their seats, and silence fell over the hall.

After a while, Li Fusi stood to pour two cups of tea, pushing one toward Jian Dan.

Jian Dan glanced at the cup and muttered Li Fusi’s nickname, “Li the Dog,” under his breath before taking a sip.

“Let’s not look too far ahead,” he said. “What about now? What do we do with Xuanzhi? Why did she suddenly collapse into a monstrous state?”

At that, Li Fusi’s anger flared. He snorted. “It was some regulars from the bar. One of them was usually close with Xuanzhi, but he disappeared a few days ago. Today, business was good and Xuanzhi was in high spirits, but when she heard the news, the sudden joy and sorrow triggered a surge in her demonic blood…”

Whenever it concerned his sister, Li Fusi was like a turbulent pool, losing all the composure honed by martial arts.

Jian Dan sighed. “Thankfully, the aftereffects of the Blood-Reviving Herb have left Xuanzhi extremely forgetful. Once she recovers, she’ll probably forget this happened.”

Li Fusi shook his head. “This time is different. As long as she remembers that person, it’ll come back to her eventually. It’s a hidden danger—we have to deal with it.”

Jian Dan asked, “What do you plan to do?”

Li Fusi wasn’t sure himself. “Let’s see if that regular is still alive. As long as he’s alive, everything can be resolved.”