Black Miasma, green Smoke and Demons as far as the Eye can see!

Three days later.

Xiaodan's cool, silvery light cut through the darkness and the billowing black mist receded. The fine, shimmering blade pierced the chest of the demon, which had long fangs and claws that were about to sink into one of the younger fighters.

With a gargling scream, the demon reared up and hissed as it retreated. Ying yue followed up and with a blow the demon's head rolled over the uneven ground, where the roots of the barren, dead trees stuck out. Although there was hardly any foliage on them, the branches were so dense that you could hardly see the sky.

The young man thanked Ying yue and stumbled away towards the camp. A few meters away, Ying yue heard the hissing gurgling of another Yao falling under Zhen yan's magic. Although they hadn't spoken to each other for days and had barely seen each other, he was nearby, taking part in the hunt that made no sense to him. Again and again,

Ying yue could hear his displeasure when he sighingly cut another demon's head off. In the beginning Ying yue had thought it was compassion for his own kind that made him spare the Yao, but the last few days had proved her wrong. The big demon showed no mercy and no sympathy at all. His rigorous approach was almost frightening.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ying Yue saw another demon attack. He jumped up, turned in the air and spun his blade in a circle. A dozen shimmering copies of his blade appeared and whirred in different directions, each one hitting its target. The Yaos had mutated, becoming grotesque. Some had too many horns, others had tentacles, and still others clearly had too many claws.

Even the ones that looked human had bizarrely distorted faces and seemed to writhe in pain. The toxic darkness of the miasma seeped out of them and into them. Although hundreds of mages and swordsmen fought without interruption, so that the blood had made the whole earth slimy and swampy, it simply did not get any less.

The ground shook and Ying yue leaped up into a tree as a huge misshapen monster staggered towards it. It furiously tore down the trees in its path and roared incessantly. Curved, pointed horns grew out of its head and back; it shuffled along on huge legs, while its massive arms, of which it had four, crushed everything around it.

Ying yue dodged its thorn-studded purple tongue, which shot out like an arrow, just in time. Xiaodan cut off the tip, which fell to the ground with a hiss and coiled like a snake. With a contemptuous look, Ying yue watched as two more spiked tips grew from the stump of the tongue, and she backed up a little further. With another roar, the giant demon grabbed one of its smaller kin and bit its head off.

A fountain of blood shot out of the neck stump, as the rest of the body twitched and gave up the ghost. Ying yue dashed forward, slid on his knees under two of the massive arms and cut a gaping wound into the demon's lower leg with Xiaodan. The demon shrieked but did not buckle and instead turned. He became increasingly nimble, as if he was adapting to the speed of his opponent, striking at Ying yue and roaring every time he missed.

Light-footedly, Ying yue pushed himself off the ground and jumped high over the demon's head. He spun around and let the tip of his sword fly straight at the demon's head. The demon grabbed it with all four hands. At the last moment, Xiaodan plunged into one of the huge arms, and for a moment Ying yue had difficulty pulling the sword out of the beast again. With all his strength, he pulled on the shaft and jumped down from the demon's arm.

He slid between its legs and now cut open the other calf lengthwise as well. Thick, clotted blood oozed from the wounds. It stank terribly and again the black mist seeped out of the wounds, as if it had filled the Yao. Instead of wool, the demons were filled with miasma. Nevertheless, the beast still did not go down. Ying yue hauled himself up by the horns on its back and plunged his blood-smeared, shimmering blade into its neck. An angry roar made the forest tremble.

Ying yue was panting now, his muscles burning and he felt the corruption of the fog gnawing at him.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and suppressed a retch. He had eaten little and slept even less in the past three days. At least a hundred Yao had fallen under his blade, but now he was nearing his limit. He had to kill the monster before it came too close to the camp. Even if the fight would be easier with some comrades at his side, he could wreak too much havoc and create a path for lower demons to enter. Ying yue twisted his sword, and it cracked ugly.

The demon reached back as if possessed, but couldn't get hold of him because of his horns. Ying yue ducked away, swung himself onto the head of one of the bent horns and wanted to sink Xiaodan into the monster's temple when it threw itself with all its might against the nearest tree. Ying yue jumped off just before he was crushed, sinking inches deep into the bloody mud.

He gritted his teeth as the putrid stench of blood flooded into his mouth, making him feel poisoned and dizzy. Everything here was thoroughly rotten, even his clothes could no longer do much. He pushed Xiaodan into the ground and sank to his knees. Breathing sword, he tried not to inhale the poisonous vapors too deeply.

The demon before him rose to his full height and roared triumphantly as he charged at him. Wreathing, writhing green smoke coiled around one of the Yao's ankles. The Yao cried out in agony, there was a hissing sound, and the demon's leathery skin blistered under the touch. The smoke slid up his body, licking over his skin and horns, and tore the other foot from under him as well.

A surge of emerald-green smoke poured over the giant body and pushed him to the ground. Beneath it, the skin began to peel, the smoke entered the demon's unprotected flesh, and he screamed like a madman. As the vapors poured into his mouth, nose, and ears, he let out a final gasp before collapsing.

The smoke vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the impressive figure of Zhen yan. The remains of the smoke still licked over his cheeks and played in his hair before sliding down his body and seeping into the fine embroidery of his hanfu. Zhen yan walked over to Ying yue and held out his hand. Ying yue stood up with difficulty and ignored Zhen yan's outstretched hand.

»Don't overdo it!« Zhen yan warned. »Go back to camp and get some treatment.« Actually, that was exactly what Ying yue had intended to do, but after Zhen yan had urged him on, a kind of rebellious rage spread through him. He wanted to do exactly the opposite of what that damned demon wanted him to do. He was about to push past him when his legs buckled and a second later he was in Zhen yan's arms.

»You...« he exclaimed, stunned.

»Me again,« Zhen yan replied, amused. ‚Didn't I say I'd be more explicit?' he asked lightly and carried Ying yue to the edge of the small tent city.

The camp was in utter chaos, so no one paid them any attention as Zhen yan carried Ying yue into the tent. The demon set him down on the bed and began to undo his clothes. In panic, Ying yue grabbed the fabric of his robe and held on tight. Zhen yan paused, then sighed reproachfully but let go of him.

»Your clothes no longer protect you, they need to be cleaned, just like your sword. Wash yourself, rest, and tomorrow you can go slaughter Yao again!« he said contemptuously and turned around.

A few helpers organized a wooden tub and cloudy water that was barely heated. Some mages of the Bai Clan took care of his robe, and Xiaodan was also carefully cleaned.

Ying yue's injuries were only light and superficial, and would have healed after a few days. While Ying yue squeezed into the small wooden tub and froze more than she relaxed in the lukewarm water, the sounds from outside penetrated in. There were wild discussions everywhere. Fighters dragged themselves back from the front line, and the resentment and frustration were tangible.

The mages were tired; they were using more magic than they could regenerate, so they were sent forward in shifts, while others withdrew from the Fubei senlin to realign their inner energy. It could take weeks or even months for the battle mages to recover from the contamination in the forest.

Ying yue could feel the inner restlessness in himself, as if a drop of ink had been dropped into a glass of clear water, poisoning it from within. It wasn't a big deal yet, but if he stayed here any longer, the forest could have unexpected effects on his cultivation.

»It seems your master didn't tame you well enough!« an angry voice sounded in front of the tent. »Who do you think you are, blocking my access?«

»Bai Gongzi is taking a bath and resting, it would be inappropriate to rush in now,« the dark voice of Zhen yan sounded, but it had none of the gentle undertone that usually accompanied it. Ying yue heaved herself out of the water and quickly pulled a simple robe over herself.

»I am still the legitimate successor of the Bai Clan, and I decide whether and when I want to see someone or not,« Lingxi snapped. Ying yue pushed aside the tent cloth. Zhen yan and Bai Lingxi stood defiantly facing each other, with Zhen yan blocking his way into the tent. Bai Lingxi was quite tall for an eighteen-year-old, but he seemed small next to the tall demon. His slender, slim figure looked childish and immature.

His robe of dark blue and silver cloth clung to his body, but the pure magic was not tainted. He hadn't been on the battlefield long enough. His eyes fell on Ying yue as he stepped out of the tent. He raised his chin as he addressed his big brother, ignoring Zhen yan's burning gaze.

»Yi Qianbei and I are leaving. Father says he leaves the fighting at the front to you, it is more important that I take care of family matters instead of running around,« he remarked. Ying yue nodded. In fact, it would be quite bearable for her father if Ying yue were to fall in the fight against the Yao. He was neither important nor of value for the family's other concerns, but death in battle still brought honor to the family.

»Please take care, even on the journey home the dangers are still great,« Ying yue replied.

»Yi Qianbei is accompanying me, so what do I have to fear? I will tell Father about your new pet; don't be surprised if you soon receive the order to get rid of it,« he said, looking at Zhen yan with disgust. Ying yue drew in a sharp breath. »Father doesn't care how I do my tasks, as long as I'm successful. He won't be bothered by a tamed demon.

He won't enter the estate or bother the clan ever,« he replied more pointedly than intended. Lingxi blinked a few times in confusion. Had Ying yue just contradicted him? He had never talked back to him, been angry or rebellious. His gaze fell on Xiaodan, which Ying yue carried with him most of the time, and immediately his gaze hardened again. The Bai family heirloom wouldn't be Ying yue... he clenched his hands into fists, the sword was his due.

»You're not to leave the Fubai senlin until the problem is solved, father doesn't want to see you before then!« he spat, then he turned on his heel and stomped off.

»What a poisonous dwarf,« Zhen yan remarked. Ying yue shook his head. ‚He's my brother and the future head of the clan, leave him alone,' Ying yue said. Zhen yan gave him a skeptical look before following him back to the tent.

»And?« he asked. Ying yue sat down on the bed and leaned Xiaodan next to him. He felt uncomfortable, not only the proximity of the demon stirred him up, he felt battered, cold and exhausted.

»And?« he echoed, looking tired at Zhen yan.

»It would be better if you left this place as soon as possible, before it infects you and corrupts your Yang energy,« Zhen yan said coldly. Again, the image of an ink drop flaring up in water flickered before Ying yue's mind's eye.

»The Yao... never end,« he replied.

»The source must be destroyed, not the symptoms,« Zhen Yan said, giving him a condescending look, as if he was disappointed that Ying Yue still hadn't understood that he was only fighting the excesses, not the root.

Ying yue sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Zhen yan under the thick curtain of his eyelashes. He was struggling with himself. It wasn't that he didn't believe the demon's words. He had been right that wiping out the Yao on the mountain wouldn't bring about any significant change to the situation; he had also been right about the wet woman.

But he didn't trust him completely. If Zhen yan was withholding important information again, just to get the result he wanted, that didn't necessarily coincide with the result Ying yue wanted. He sat up straight and gave the demon a skeptical look. Outside, the muffled sounds of chaos continued to reach them. If it continued, the base would fall and the cultivators would retreat. The corrupted area would grow larger and larger, engulfing the surrounding villages and producing ever more powerful Yao.

»So... you're saying that something... someone has corrupted the source of the natural flow of Yang. How?« Ying yue asked. »I don't know of any weapon that could do that. There are certainly some demonic instruments that can act like poison and contaminate other living things, but not to that extent.«

»I can imagine that this kind of energy flow is unusual in the mortal world. But just as naturally as Yang flows in your world, Yin is the main essence in the realm of demons,« Zhenyan replied. »It is generated there just as naturally as the air we breathe is generated here. The question is how to bring such a natural flow here.

And we'll answer that by finding the source and that something.«

Ying yue looked at the ground and thought. The Fubai senlin had been spreading for years. Whatever had caused this change had to still be there. Otherwise, the effect would have worn off at some point, or their precautions and measures would have had at least some effect.

»Where can we find the source?« Ying yue asked, looking at Zhen yan.

»I suspect we will follow the Yao deep below the mountain. The weak and dull-witted demons stay here at the edge of the forest. The stronger, most corrupt of them will be near the source,« he replied. Ying yue thought about it for a moment. If he hadn't experienced the demons' unyielding frontline himself in the last few days, he would never have agreed to such a foolhardy search. But it seemed pointless to expend even more energy, to fight against seemingly endless waves.

He glanced at Zhen yan, who had backed away a little and was looking at him unabatedly cheerfully. His heart did a somersault and his stomach sank. He closed his eyes again before taking a few deeper breaths. Inside, he scolded himself for putting so much trust in a demon; a cultivator might as well ram a sword through his own heart instead of wanting to enter the heart of a corrupted forest alone with a great demon.

Still, he felt a certain uneasiness, but there was no fear or mistrust. Ying yue suppressed the rising blush and rubbed one of his reddened ears. Zhen yan had no intention of killing him; he wanted to torture him in other ways.

»All right,« he finally replied. ‚I'm tired.' Zhen yan took a few steps towards him. ‚Leave me alone,' Ying yue added sharply. Zhen yan turned on his heels and rolled his eyes as he left the tent. Most of the time, Ying yue sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, focusing his inner energy to let the impurity flow out of him. Although it was only a little, it was still stubborn and difficult to detach from his cultivated Yang energy.

He spent the rest of the night in meditation. Although Zhen yan did not show himself and made no other attempt to cross further boundaries, Ying yue remained on guard. The bells that were stretched around the camp rattled softly and the rustling of the paper talismans could be heard when the wind picked up. The air smelled musty and damp, and a feeling of oppression crept up on everyone, eating through flesh and bone and lingering.

The nights were black, the days gray. Spring and its strengthening, powerful sun seemed to have receded into the distance. Xiaodan was constantly vibrating in his folded arms, as if trying to shake off the negative energies.

Ying yue awoke from his trance with the first, sparse rays of sunshine over the camp. Someone had brought him new clothes. Since he himself traveled only with the most minimal of luggage, he had been given makeshift clothing that was made for clanless or free demon hunters to support them a little.

The robe itself was kept simple, with basic spells cast into it, and it was nowhere near as durable as the Bai-Clan's clothing. Instead of solid arm guards, he wrapped black cloth around his wrists to keep the cold wind out.

He put Xiaodan under his belt and after a meager meal, he stepped out of the tent. A second later, Zhen yan was standing next to him. His expression was unchanged, cheerful, as if the Fubai senlin had been an excursion he had taken. Ying yue looked at the ground.

»Let's go,« he said gruffly.