Unintended Immortality

Chapter 280: Catching a Demon in the Camp at Night

The training hall was already equipped with brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Since the army often relied on experts to deal with supernatural threats, such as ghosts or demons, cinnabar was naturally among their supplies as well.

It didn’t take long for everything to be prepared, and the brushes, ink, paper, inkstone, and cinnabar were placed on the desk commonly used by General Chen.

The Daoist sat down in front of the desk.

“Swish!”

He smoothed the paper and weighed it down. A junior officer personally came forward to grind the ink.

The calico cat leaped onto the desk, sometimes lowering its head to watch the officer grinding the ink and the ink-stick, and sometimes raising its gaze to scrutinize the officer’s face.

The Daoist picked up the brush and dipped it into the cinnabar. The tip of the brush touched the top-right corner of the paper, moving like a dragon or serpent.

Each stroke carried a subtle sheen of light, and when the talisman was complete, a faint breeze stirred the paper.

The talisman was created at one go.

Among those watching was a folk expert well-versed in talismans. Peering intently, he could tell that the design and structure of this talisman were entirely different from the current mainstream styles and bore no apparent connection to Heavenly Palace deities. Yet, the mystical phenomenon in the process made it clear that this talisman was extraordinary.

Strangely, the center of the talisman paper remained blank.

The Daoist paused, set down the brush, and picked up another. Dipping it into the ink ground on the inkstone, he then lifted his gaze to meet General Chen’s eyes.

“Hmm?” General Chen felt a bit baffled by the gaze fixed on him and couldn’t help but turn to look behind him, as if unsure what Song You was looking at.

“No need to worry, General,” the Daoist said, lowering his head as he meticulously moved his brush across the paper. The surrounding people didn’t dare even to breathe too loudly for fear of disturbing the sheet, yet he still found time to converse.

“What lies ahead is merely some ancient symbols I learned in the mountains. They possess the ability to dispel illusions, reveal truths, and conceal oneself. Later, after descending the mountain, I stumbled upon a fortunate opportunity, which happens to be perfect for use here.”

As he spoke, everyone instinctively glanced at the paper.

The Daoist carefully painted, and at the center of the white paper, he drew a pair of eyes.

Though he didn’t use much ink, the details were vivid. More importantly, the eyes appeared incredibly lifelike, exuding a striking charm. As the sky grew darker, the illusion became even more convincing, making them look almost real at first glance.

“What is this...?”

“If the essence is captured in the painting, it will feel real,” the Daoist explained with a faint smile, glancing especially at General Chen. “I once met a martial artist who was haunted by an overly realistic portrait. He felt as though he was being watched every night, unable to sleep peacefully.

“Among the world’s generals and warriors, none are as courageous as General Chen. A portrait of the General could ward off evil spirits and force demons to retreat. I’ve borrowed the General’s essence to imbue this painting.”

“Will this work?”

“Not yet,” the Daoist replied.

He reached out and made a single cut on the upper right corner of the paper, creating a vertical line followed by a fold, neatly slicing off a long strip of the sheet. He then repeated the process.

Before long, he had produced several dozen strips in total.

“This still isn’t secure enough,” Song You explained. “I don’t have the artistic mastery of a peerless painter, so I must resort to a cultivator’s methods to imbue it with more essence.” He turned to General Chen. “May I borrow a strand of your hair, General?”

Everyone immediately turned their eyes to General Chen.

Hair, like all parts of the body, was inherited from one’s parents and held significant meaning. For someone like General Chen, he must not casually offer even a strand of hair to others. Even if it wasn’t used to harm him, a strand of hair itself could be treated as a trophy, like a severed head.

Yet General Chen was decisive.

“If it can subdue Bolai and spare my men from losing their lives tonight, what is a strand of hair? Even losing a finger would be worth it.”

“Shing!”

In a flash, he drew the sword from his waist. With one hand, he lifted a lock of his hair; with the other, he swung the blade.

The sword, sharp enough to cut through iron like mud and sever a hair with the lightest touch, sliced off several strands effortlessly in a single stroke.

“Shing!”

The blade returned to its sheath with a smooth motion.

The General carefully held out the strands of hair with both hands. The Daoist accepted them with a smile, holding the hair between his fingers and blowing gently upon it.

“Poof...”

The hair burst into a puff of azure smoke.

Under the watchful gaze of the onlookers, the smoke didn’t disperse into the air as expected. Instead, it condensed and sank, streaming downward in a thin ribbon before merging completely into the talisman—the Eye Talisman.

“Over here!”

“It ran this way!”

Shouts filled the air, overlapping with one another.

Torches flowed through the streets like a stream of fire. Arrows occasionally flew toward the demon.

These were military-grade powerful bows and crossbows. If an ordinary person were hit, even through armor, they would likely be injured. But when the arrows struck the demon, they only produced dull thuds. Only a few managed to stick in its body, and judging by the slight wobble of the shafts, they seemed to penetrate only a small depth.

The demon even managed to swat some arrows aside with its hands.

Suddenly, a gust of wind came hurtling toward it.

“Whoosh!”

Another arrow streaked through the night sky, arriving in an instant and striking the demon squarely in the chest.

Sensing the danger, the demon reacted swiftly, reaching out to deflect it. But by the time its hand swung, the arrow had already buried itself deep.

“Thud!”

A muffled impact resounded.

This arrow carried far more force than the previous ones, penetrating more than a hand’s depth into its body.

“Cao Yan...”

Bolai instantly recognized who had fired the arrow. It was the renowned sharpshooter, General Cao Yan. They had clashed numerous times before.

Demons, however, were not the same as humans. What would be a fatal wound for a human was merely a minor injury for Bolai with his cultivation. Still, the arrow succeeded in knocking him off the rooftop.

He landed heavily but quickly scrambled to his feet.

Soldiers surrounded him on all sides. Bolai had no choice but to pick a direction and flee in panic.

However, within this military town, it seemed as though people were stationed in every direction. No matter which street or alley he ran to, or which building he entered, there were always soldiers lying in wait.

As a result, he couldn’t cast any spells to escape.

What’s more, for some inexplicable reason, even when he reached seemingly deserted areas with no one in sight, his abilities would suddenly fail, as if they had been nullified.

They should have worked!

Bolai grew increasingly anxious and baffled. It felt like being in a dream where he knew he could fly, but for some reason, he simply couldn’t lift off anymore without any cause.

Frustrated and alarmed, he was relentlessly pursued and surrounded.

The elite soldiers of Great Yan, renowned for their heavy armor, made up a terrifyingly high proportion of the army. The northern garrison was composed entirely of seasoned warriors. Armored and armed to the teeth, even scattered groups of soldiers were difficult for the demon to dispatch quickly.

Though Bolai had sharp claws, he struggled to penetrate their armor. At best, he could use his strength and spells to repel them momentarily. Against formations of soldiers with coordinated shields, spears, and crossbows, it became even worse. When several burly men advanced with shields in unison, polished spears and sharp arrows followed right behind. Even for a demon, injuries were inevitable.

This was a carefully coordinated siege against him.

In his panic, Bolai had no choice but to flee to a less populated area. With a sweep of his sleeve, he sent a group of pursuing soldiers flying. Then, he opened his mouth and spat out a cloud of thick, inky black smoke.

It was darker than the night itself.

However, before the smoke could fully envelop him, the sound of urgent hoofbeats echoed from ahead.

Clop, clop, clop...

The sound of hooves was deep and heavy, like the approach of a giant beast.

The clinking of armor echoed, accompanied by the rhythmic collisions of metal plates.

A commanding general with a full beard rode into view, exuding an imposing presence. In his hand, he wielded a long-handled iron mace. His horse charged forward like the wind, and the general hardly seemed to make an effort as he passed through the black smoke. The iron mace, seemingly hanging naturally at his side, carried the massive force of the charging steed and slammed into Bolai’s chest.

“Boom!”

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The demon was effortlessly sent flying out of the darkness.

Clop, clop, clop...

The horse slowed quickly and let out a long, piercing neigh as the general reined it in, pulling the steed around with a sharp turn.

From atop his horse, the general hefted the long-handled iron mace onto his shoulder and stared coldly at Bolai. “I am Lu Dehui of the northern garrison. Eleven demon heads hang in my tent—what kind of wretched beast are you? Speak now!”

Fearless in the face of the demon, the indomitable spirit of Great Yan’s military shone through.