It was the night of the Great Heat (a solar term).
The night was deep and silent, a thick fog quietly enveloping the thirty-six main streets of the capital.
Once the curfew bell and drum had sounded, the Jinwu Guards began their patrol.
Clad in fish-scale armor with sabers at their waists, they passed through the streets, casting a sharp, chilling gleam in their wake. All was utterly silent.
At this very moment, it seemed all activity in the city had gathered at the Chongque Tower in the southwest corner.
“Clang!”
The Jinwu Guard Captain used the last of his strength to dodge an attack, grabbing a nearby stool and smashing it against a few crimson-clawed limbs that nearly struck his face.
The impact echoed with a sharp, beast-like screech that lingered in the air.
The savage force and ear-piercing scream made the hairs on his back stand on end.
His muscles tensed, and he gripped his sword even tighter, gasping for breath.
Behind a screen to the left, the son of a minor official was hiding.
He had come secretly tonight, not even bringing a servant. Now, seeing this scene, he broke down, clutching his head and shrieking, “Why is it you people?! Where’s the Demon Suppression Bureau?!”
The Jinwu Guards might be good at catching thieves, but the creature in front of them—was a demon, a real demon!
The captain took a deep breath.
Tonight truly was cursed.
Of the 108 districts in the capital, their patrol route tonight was far from the palace, near the outskirts.
The residents here weren’t nobles or high-ranking officials—mostly scholars preparing for exams and merchants working the eastern and western markets—generally not the sort to cause trouble.
But of all places, Chongque Tower had to be here.
And of all people, the reckless heir of Duke Xuan had to be in that tower.
Halfway through the patrol, firelight had suddenly erupted from Chongque Tower.
How could the Jinwu Guards not investigate?
Before the captain could even speak, the scene changed.
The creature that had been toying with them apparently no longer wanted to play.
A fox, judging by its appearance, stood tall, its long, fluffy tail swaying as it grinned eerily like a human.
Putting aside the bizarre rumors—this was likely the first time anyone present had seen a real demon.
The claws attacking everyone revealed their true form. Its bones were different from a human’s—long, slender fingers surrounded the entire building, preventing escape.
The scattered flames gathered, drawn by its power, forming bead-sized orbs of fire that hovered in its palm, then spun toward everyone’s heads.
At that moment, the protective talismans wrapped around the Jinwu Guards’ sword hilts ran out of power, dimming and snapping in two, falling onto the bloodstained floor.
This was bad.
They hadn’t been able to fight it even with the talismans—now they had no protection at all.
Death was certain.
The captain’s face turned ashen, and he scanned the area with the corner of his eye.
The entire tower had been painted red—overwhelming blood filled the air.
Blood was everywhere: on the guards, on the expensive sandalwood tables, on the floor…
Even the incense burners were leaking semi-coagulated chicken blood.
Behind a red-lacquered pillar, the Duke’s heir, disheveled and panicked, grabbed a shrieking sorcerer and roared, “Aren’t you a guest of the Three Great Sects? Didn’t you say you had immense power? Then why are you running, huh?!”
“I—I don’t know either,” stammered the sorcerer, panicked, pulling a worn golden bowl from his wide Daoist robes and tossing it at their feet.
He then tied blood-spotted talismans to his wrists and muttered in confusion: “Lihuo Pearl, Silver Pine Tail—this is definitely a Glazed Fox! Among the thousand types of demons listed, this thing doesn’t even rank. How can it be this powerful?”
Seeing them, the captain fell into despair.
They were all going to die because of an arrogant noble brat and a half-baked fraud of a sorcerer.
A disaster they didn’t ask for.
A pointless death.
The demon flexed its fingers, then suddenly straightened its tail and hurled the fire pearl.
“Pfft!”
A Jinwu Guard clutched his chest, spitting out a mouthful of blood. It felt like a thousand pounds were crushing their shoulders and backs, like they were shackled and bound.
They could barely move, barely breathe.
And now, with a direct hit to the chest—there was no strength left to fight back.
This demon was even crueler than the legends.
It seemed to take pleasure in the sound of bones snapping, one by one.
When its victim was barely clinging to life, it pulled down a gauzy curtain and approached the frontmost guard, reaching out a claw.
The claw was nothing like a normal fox’s—needle-sharp, blood-red nails gleamed. Droplets of blood rolled down their tips.
It skillfully peeled back the guard’s armor, like opening a ripe banana.
Its claws pierced inner garments, tore through flesh, shattered bone, and dug out a still-beating, blood-soaked heart.
Clutching the heart, the demon finally pulled the curtain aside, revealing an upturned nose and long, white fangs in a grotesquely pleased grin.
It didn’t tear or chew like a wild beast, but extended a barbed tongue and gently licked—just once—and half the heart was gone.
Chilling.
Groans of pain gradually faded. The rest of the squad watched with bloodshot eyes.
The minor official’s son finally couldn’t take it—screaming, rolling his eyes back, and fainting on a floral chair.
The pampered Duke’s heir had never seen such gore.
His face went pale-green, mouth opening and closing without sound.
“A Glazed Fox is supposed to be timid, mild in nature… I’ve never heard of one eating humans!” The sorcerer was clearly shaken.
Everyone in the tower watched helplessly as the demon’s claws multiplied into dozens, ready to repeat the gruesome ritual.
In the split second before they struck—
BANG!
The sound of doors and windows shattering at once filled the air.
A rush of hot wind flooded in, dispersing the thick stench of blood.
“Daring to harm people in the capital—you’ve got nerve, demon.”
The intruder rolled to absorb impact, then flung out throwing blades with precision, each striking the demon’s phantom claws with a flash of cold light and a series of sharp clangs.
The demon recoiled, rising upright, snarling with fury and murderous intent.
In the next moment, it launched toward the newcomer, fire pearl in hand.
The survivors, stunned, all turned to look.
The figure moved with agility, her attacks swift and clean.
She wore official robes—a female officer.
Alone, she fought the demon to a standstill—one that had overwhelmed two whole squads.
Between movements, she flung pale-blue talismans—different from the red ones they’d used for their swords and protection.
The Demon Suppression Bureau.
She was with the Bureau!
The chaos here had drawn attention, but everyone had been too focused on their own fear to notice the other movements.
The captain finally realized—they were saved.
Gritting his teeth, he got to his feet and motioned for the others to retreat.
Then he froze.
Someone was standing beside him.
And he hadn’t heard a sound.
“Don’t go out now.”
A crisp female voice.
The newcomer wore a veiled hat—not the usual white veil, but dozens of colorful cloth strips, cut to equal lengths and hanging down to her waist.
Each strip was painted with strange symbols that twisted and elongated, covering her face completely.
“Its domain has opened. You’re all injured. Going out means death.”
The captain didn’t know what a “domain” was, but when it came to dealing with demons, the Bureau knew best.
He immediately halted and instinctively turned to look at her.
She was speaking to him, but her eyes never left the battlefield.
The cloth strips hung perfectly still.
Seeing the demon shriek repeatedly, it likely knew that dragging this out would be disadvantageous.
Now it unleashed its full might.
Though the Grand Duke’s manor had been heavily reinforced at great cost, it still couldn’t withstand the rampage of a demon.
Wherever the fight went, furniture exploded with loud crashes, shattered into pieces.
The group of injured people carefully took cover wherever they could.
Yet no matter how powerful the Demon Suppression Bureau was, they couldn’t take on such a foe alone. It was clear they were starting to fall behind.
In battles of this level, once a shift in momentum appeared, the outcome would soon follow… Why then was she only watching, not helping?
The officer was confused, though he dared not voice it.
Since he couldn’t be of much use here, he decided to assist in moving and protecting the injured Jinwu Guards.
But just as he was getting up, a hand lightly pressed down on his right shoulder.
The officer stiffened in shock.
Turning his head, he saw the person beside him had finally moved.
“Ding!”
She shifted her stance and drew a saber.
The horizontal saber standard among the Jinwu Guards let out a clear, resounding ring in her hand.
No one around even saw how she moved—next moment, the blade’s light had already sliced precisely between the demon and the female officer of the Bureau.
The saber was narrow and sharp, with a thick spine, quite heavy, yet it spun around her wrist three or four times, slicing into the demon’s shadow with a chilling, whistling sound.
Seeing this, the female officer twisted her body and instinctively yielded the central position.
Her blade techniques were bold and sweeping, carrying the force of great rivers. Within just a few strikes, the demon’s cries turned high-pitched and agitated—it sensed real danger.
Its eyes darted toward the scattered incense burner, candles, and paper charms on the ground, preparing to escape.
But then it realized—it couldn’t move.
The mysterious woman’s footwork was clean and lethal.
Whether striking forward or sweeping sideways, she was fast—so fast she seemed to vanish.
Her body moved with shocking agility, especially when she ducked under the demon’s claws. At one point, she sprang off a lacquered beam, lunging toward the demon.
The trailing edge of her robes twirled, revealing a glimpse of deep crimson fabric underneath—patterned with small mountains and aquatic designs.
An official uniform—one never seen before.
A silver bell hidden beneath her robes swung without making a sound.
As she and the demon clashed, the earlier-arrived female officer intercepted the path behind the demon with a talisman from the Grand Duke’s heir’s own court sorcerer.
Her saber sang continuously as she fought, the trailing cloth strips around her glowing faintly as if they’d come alive.
Within moments, she sliced off the demon’s bloody claw, and then severed its bristle-like tail.
The severed tail landed and rolled right to the court sorcerer’s feet.
He jumped back, his jowls trembling as he stammered, “That’s not right—when a glazed fox loses its tail, there should be fire!”
But there was no fire.
No blood either.
The demon’s cries had grown vicious and hateful.
Glaring at the woman closing in, it wished it could flay her alive.
She paid it no mind, simply lowered her gaze to the saber in her hand.
The blade was now webbed with cracks and jagged notches. Frowning, she decisively hurled it to the ground, lunged forward—and reached straight for the demon with her bare hand.
Before onlookers could even react in fear, the tide of battle shifted.
The demon, now deformed and missing its claw and tail, twisted midair. Its massive form rapidly warped, like smoke swirling in a fire.
In mere breaths, it turned into a giant demonic face the size of a ritual altar.
Its fangs gleamed coldly, black mist seeping between its jaws, and from its long, coiled tongue came a hoarse, furious voice:
“You pitiful mortals—”