Chapter Forty: Offering Advice (Second Update!)

Sun Bo was forced to retreat by the Netherfire, flying backward through the air. The disciples of the Holy Land behind him burst into laughter—indeed, they had every reason to be so arrogant.

Moose’s expression turned cold as he said, “You refuse my attempt to subdue you, and yet you remain ungrateful. Don’t blame me for showing no mercy.”

At that moment, He Tao and Lie Kuang rushed forward and pulled Sun Bo back. “Don’t act on impulse. This man is extremely dangerous. Even if your cultivation is not inferior to his, under that strange Netherfire, you’ll gain nothing,” they urged.

Hearing this, several Holy Land disciples laughed even more wantonly. Not far away, Ye Feng sat quietly, watching the expressions of these disciples, taking everything in. Yet he made no move, as if none of this was his concern.

“I declare Moose the victor. Does anyone have any objections?” Among the disciples, a golden-haired youth stepped onto the dueling platform, grinning as he addressed the crowd.

Upon hearing this, everyone below fell silent. The outcome was obvious to all; the victor had been decided. The golden-haired youth’s action was nothing short of a deliberate humiliation of those below.

“He has won; I have no objections! But I wish to challenge you—do you have any objections?” A deep, rugged voice sounded from not far away.

At this, all eyes turned. When they saw the wild, barbarian-like figure, many nearly collapsed in terror.

“The Demon Slayer! It’s the Demon Slayer! He has come…”

“Didn’t they say he ventured deep into the Falling Wild Goose Mountains? Why has he appeared here?”

Many young nobles from the capital whispered among themselves, clearly wary of the name Demon Slayer.

“Demon Slayer?” Ye Feng’s heart skipped a beat. Over the past few days, he had gained some understanding of the capital’s young elite. The name Demon Slayer was considered a taboo—so much so that children were silenced at the mention of it.

This man possessed extraordinary strength, but his character was extremely solitary. He held nothing but contempt for the so-called young elites of the capital, and thus his name was not counted among their ranks.

Rumor had it that Demon Slayer’s bloodline was anything but ordinary. As a child, he had lived in the Falling Wild Goose Mountains among the beasts, only returning to the human world three years ago when Grand Duke Fel adopted him as a foster son.

When Demon Slayer first arrived in the capital, he was met with scorn. One day, he suddenly erupted in violence, tearing three young elites who had insulted him to pieces. Since then, no one in the capital dared provoke him, for among those he killed was a man who had half a foot into the rank of Spirit King.

“To have been able to tear apart a Spirit King three years ago, only to vanish and now reappear so suddenly—how intriguing…”

Without another word, Demon Slayer let out a thunderous roar and charged forward, his massive hammer howling through the air with terrifying force.

Boom—whoosh—

But something unexpected happened. A sword light flashed, intercepting the mighty hammer.

“A guest is still a guest. Let us fight another day,” said Garo, his expression cold and aloof. He turned his head to look at Demon Slayer, shaking it gently.

Meanwhile, Lie Kuang and He Tao helped Sun Bo off the dueling platform. In their eyes, now that the two taboos—Demon Slayer and Garo—had intervened, the contest no longer concerned them.

Although Ye Feng longed to crush these Holy Land disciples, he would not act hastily without understanding their strength—certainly not in an open, upright manner. Revealing one’s power too soon was a death wish.

Upon seeing who had intervened, Demon Slayer scratched his nose awkwardly, hefted his giant hammer with dissatisfaction, and retreated.

“Well, I’m hungry anyway. Tomorrow, then! I’ll let your head rest upon your shoulders for one more day,” he grumbled, his voice boorishly loud yet brimming with arrogance.

Shouldering his massive hammer, Demon Slayer strode toward Garo, grinning broadly. “I’ll listen to you. I won’t kill them today. But on my way here, I had a fight with someone, and now I’m starving…”

Upon hearing Demon Slayer’s offhand remark, Ye Feng, who had been lounging nearby, suddenly felt a flash of insight flicker in his eyes.

“In that case, let me host a feast today! How about I treat you all to a good meal?” Ye Feng said, patting the dust from his clothes and approaching the group with a cheerful grin.

Lie Kuang was stunned. Ao Yun was stunned. Xiao Chong was stunned. Even Sun Bo, half dead, rolled his eyes. At that moment, everyone wondered the same thing: why had this fellow become so proactive all of a sudden?

Seeing their astonished faces, Ye Feng scratched his hands together awkwardly and chuckled. “Don’t mind me. As a host, it’s only proper I offer some hospitality…”

In a private room of the Bright Moon Pavilion, six men sat around a round table in silence.

Only Demon Slayer, wolfing down his food like a wild beast, seemed at ease. The other five all wore furrowed brows, each evidently preoccupied with thoughts of the day’s battles.

“You didn’t just invite us here for a meal, did you? Speak—what’s on your mind?” Seeing no one else speak, He Tao, with his cherubic face, broke the silence and turned to Ye Feng, his tone less than friendly.

The other four seemed to come to their senses as well, their gazes shifting to Ye Feng.

“It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to ask this brother—did you say you fought someone on your way here?” Ye Feng asked, looking straight at Demon Slayer, who was still eating heartily.

Three years ago, Demon Slayer had the power to slay a half-step Spirit King, and now he was battling someone in Veil City. From what Ye Feng knew, aside from Garo, there was no one among the younger generation of the Sky Martial Empire who could match that strength.

Given the news Lie Kuang and the others had brought in recent days, Ye Feng suspected that the one who fought Demon Slayer was likely the Holy Land’s second-ranked youth, Bill Warton.

“Oh! I don’t know him. He had a head full of golden hair and I just didn’t like the look of him!” Demon Slayer replied, his mouth full of half-eaten chicken, his words slurred.

At this, everyone’s eyes lit up, then turned to Ye Feng as if he were some kind of apparition.

“How did you guess? Are you clairvoyant?” He Tao asked incredulously, eyes wide.

Before Ye Feng could answer, Xiao Chong slapped the table, his face flushed with excitement. “You mean… an ambush?”

Without elaborating, Ye Feng smiled and nodded. Dealing with clever people had its advantages, and now it showed. “That man is most likely the one you call Bill Warton.”

As soon as he finished, Demon Slayer slammed the table with a resentful thud, seized his giant hammer, and declared, “Count me in! Damn it, that guy kept bullying me with his speed, never daring to face me head-on!”