Chapter 13: Slaying the Demon Beast

“Awoo!”

A canine-type demon beast, drenched in blood, howled miserably as a sword pierced straight through its skull. The wails spiked sharply, then weakened, until all breath and life were gone.

By now, it was the third day since they had entered the mountain. Their quota of a hundred demon beasts was still short by a few, but at this pace, they would likely finish by the afternoon. Over these three days, the novice disciples had at least gotten some practice—hands bloodied, nerves steeled.

Lin Lingshu, cradling Hanli, glanced up at the sky. It was about time for lunch.

“Junior brothers, junior sisters—rest here. We’ll continue in the afternoon.”

From among the group, Wang Shuheng immediately understood. He drew his long blade, skinned the canine beast, cut the meat into chunks, washed them clean with water from his storage pouch, and lit a fire with his fire-element spiritual power.

Everyone was used to this by now. In these three days, aside from Lin Lingshu, the others had been relying solely on fasting pills. Even Wang Shuheng, their designated roast-meat toolman, survived the same way.

Wang Shuheng watched as the skewered meat sizzled golden on both sides, juices dripping. He pulled out a strip of white cloth, slid the roasted pieces off the blade, and wrapped them neatly.

Carrying the bundle, he approached Lin Lingshu.
“Senior Sister Lin, here.”

She accepted the roast, picked out two pieces, and passed them back to him.
“Junior Brother Wang, thank you for your efforts these days.”

Without turning back, she failed to notice his expression. Wang Shuheng, after taking the meat, didn’t withdraw either; instead, he stood by her side and began eating as well.

Lin Lingshu bit into the crispy, tender meat. As a member of a nation famed for its foodies, she couldn’t help but marvel: The male lead really is impressive. In a world without a single pinch of seasoning, he had managed, through sheer skill, to make roasted meat taste as though it had been perfectly spiced.

Just as she was enjoying the flavor, her ninth-level Qi Refining senses picked up a powerful energy fluctuation drawing steadily nearer.

She immediately spat out the half-chewed morsel and shouted:
“All disciples, gather around me!”

No one knew what was happening, but instinct drove them to obey. They scrambled to her side. Suddenly, from a nearby grove, a massive white shadow leapt out—a White Moon Wolf. It swung a razor-sharp claw toward one of the disciples.

Boom!

A violet thunderball struck the claw, forcing it off course. Even so, the wolf’s talons left three bloody gashes across the disciple’s back.

The beast stared at its own bloodied paw, then at the disciple who had barely escaped. Stretching out its tongue, it licked the fresh blood from its claws.

Burnt wolf hairs curled where the thunderball had landed.
“Awooo~!”

Its third-level Foundation Establishment aura surged out, pressing down on everyone. Disciples drew their weapons in alarm, though some hands trembled uncontrollably.

But Lin Lingshu’s lips curled into a smile.

She drew out a talisman from her storage ring. With just a few strokes, it outlined a crescent moon.

It was a gift from the Moon Goddess of Water herself, who was both talisman master and cultivator. On Lin Lingshu’s sixteenth birthday, the original body had received this charm. As the direct disciple of a Nascent Soul powerhouse, how could she not carry life-saving treasures?

In the novel, among the male lead’s party, only Murong Xue and Ning Qi—future harem members with family backing—had any similar protection. The rest had died miserably.

Lin Lingshu poured her spiritual power into the talisman, stirring the Golden Core–level force within. Against a Foundation Establishment beast, this was killing a chicken with an ox-cleaver.

The talisman floated free from her hand, blossoming into a crescent moon that hovered in the air.

The White Moon Wolf’s instincts screamed for it to flee, but an invisible gravity crushed down, rooting it in place.

It howled, pouring all its Foundation Establishment power into resistance—but could not break the unseen shackles. The crescent drifted closer, pressed against its skull… and the wolf’s eyes dimmed. Its aura vanished.

Lin Lingshu approached the fallen beast, Wang Shuheng following at her side. She stored the corpse away in her ring. Nothing special—just worth a few spirit stones.

In this world, demonkind only rose as high as Nascent Soul. Yuan Shen (Divine Soul) cultivation was forbidden—or rather, the human race ensured they never reached it. Aside from the male lead’s dragon incarnation and his little phoenix harem member Su Tong’er, no beast had ever broken through.

The demon race existed only as training fodder and material suppliers. On this, righteous and demonic sects alike were in rare agreement.

Lin Lingshu paid no mind to why Wang Shuheng always stuck by her. She turned to the disciples.
“To avoid further casualties, the trial ends here. You’ve slain enough beasts to pass.”

From her storage ring, she pulled out a teleportation compass. A beam of light enveloped the group.

Why hadn’t the novel’s characters used this? Because it took time to activate. Demon beasts weren’t clever, but they weren’t fools either—they wouldn’t just stand there and watch you leave.

Lin Lingshu had feared a surprise attack, like in the novel, where the wolf rushed the group before anyone could react. That was why she had used the talisman.

In Ten-Thousand Beast Mountain, at Greenhill Town, a cluster of figures appeared outside a great hall.

The overseer bowed. Lin Lingshu tossed him a mission token.
“Send us back to the sect.”

The man examined it, returned it, and hurried to adjust the formation. Moments later, another column of light carried them away.

Back at the Spirit Sword Sect’s teleportation hall, streams of people came and went without end.

As one of the Four Great Sects, Spirit Sword Sect counted over a million disciples, held lands spanning ten thousand miles, and bore responsibility for countless threats—beasts, invaders, and rogue cultivators alike.

Lin Lingshu descended from the formation with her group and went straight to the attendant. Tossing over the mission token, she said:
“Submit task.”

The attendant checked the list, marked it complete, then handed over a storage pouch.

Lin Lingshu turned to her juniors.
“Brothers, sisters—the mission is done. The sect tournament is coming. May you all earn fine rankings.”

With that, she stepped onto her sword and soared into the sky, vanishing as a streaking rainbow.

Midair, she weighed the pouch in her hand. Next step—Foundation Establishment.

Back in the hall, Wang Shuheng gazed after her departing figure. He looked down at the long blade in his hand and murmured:
“Senior Sister… I will not break my word.”

Lin Lingshu did not know how deeply she was already reshaping this world—just as she did not know, four hundred years later, whether she would even want to go back.

Or perhaps… whether anyone would let her.