Chapter 66 Immortal【Double Chapter】

Staring at the Black General, who once again appeared suspended in midair, not only did the ten leader monsters grow serious, but all the lesser demons below also craned their necks, gazing up at him.

Anyone with even a modicum of sense among the little monsters could tell that the early appearance of the general today was different from his usual absence.

“Since the Great King’s domain holds competitions…” The Black General looked down at the host of demons and said directly, “I believe Langlang Mountain needs its own contest as well…”

“So, I’ve decided—” His eyes swept over the curious and eager faces of the lesser demons below. “When the first snow of the year falls, our competition will begin.”

“The rules are simple: each leader will select three demons from their ranks—ten leaders, thirty monsters in total.”

“These thirty will battle, and the five victors will each be awarded a weapon and two stalks of spirit herb as prizes…”

He had barely finished speaking before uproar exploded below.

A cacophony of buzzing voices rose as the little demons chattered like a hive of bees.

“Are we really holding a contest?”

“Are you blind?”

“You didn’t hear the general say so?”

“There are weapons—and spirit herbs! I want in!”

“If you want to compete, your leader has to pick you first…”

“With us competing, that mutt Bai Bulai, and that dung beetle Jin Jia—they’re bound to win. They’re the strongest…”

“If you ask me, that White Wolf—no, Leader Bai lost out. If he’d been promoted a little later, he could’ve won this time…”

“What do you know? The benefits leaders get are way more than you can imagine—they don’t even care about this stuff.”

“Didn’t you hear? Even if that dog demon and the dung beetle take two spots, there are still three left…”

“If I had those two spirit herbs, I could train up to Bai Bulai’s level too! I have to compete…”

“With just two more spirit herbs, I could become a leader too!”

Amid the noisy throng, a tall dog demon with a white head and black neck markings gazed up enviously, jealously, and with hatred at the pure white, powerfully built wolf demon standing on the edge among the leaders.

He envied the wolf for his pure white fur, free of blemish, and the favor he’d won from the Wolf Commander.

He was jealous that the wolf, having been on the mountain barely two years, had already cultivated to the rank of demon general and become a leader, while he himself, after eleven years, was still only a late-stage shapeshifting little demon.

His progress, fast by ordinary standards, was still hopelessly slow compared to the wolf.

He resented the wolf for being a wolf, while he was merely a dog.

He resented himself for his fur—not white enough, streaked with black.

He resented the Wolf Commander most of all… Well, no, the Wolf Commander was too powerful to resent openly.

…

Lu Fei, for his part, had no idea a dog demon below harbored such thoughts toward him. Even if he’d known, he’d have given it little mind.

Instead, he felt a little exasperated by the glances sent his way by the other leaders.

He knew well enough what those looks meant. Winter was not far off, at most two months away. Had he delayed his promotion by just that much, he could have claimed the very prizes the Black General now promised.

But that was all hindsight. If he’d only known in advance—or if the Bear Commander hadn’t singled him out for hardship—he might have considered postponing. But reality offered no such ifs.

He put the matter aside.

Instead, his mind turned to the Black General’s mention of spirit herbs.

Now that he was a leader, he had the duty to turn in ten stalks of spirit herb every two months.

Yet of his nine subordinates, five were brand new to the mountain. According to the rules, for their first two months, new demons didn’t have to pay spirit herb—something like a probation period.

After those two months, they’d bear the same burden as the others: one stalk every two months.

Subtracting the five under probation, Lu Fei was left with only three regular followers: the crow demon, Redskin, and Huang Gui.

With just the three of them, the requirement to turn in ten stalks of spirit herb in two months was grossly unfair.

Lu Fei knew he had to bring this up with the Wolf Commander, and he planned to do so as soon as the meeting ended.

As for the little demon tournament at the first snow, as just announced by the Black General, he took a rather Zen attitude. He simply couldn’t care much.

After all, apart from his few loyal followers, all his underlings were new recruits. How could they compete?

Of his three regulars, Huang Gui had only just reached the early demon soldier stage, while the crow demon and Redskin had only recently advanced to mid-stage shapeshifting demon soldier. Their strength simply couldn’t compare to the seasoned mid-stagers among the other ranks.

And there were even two late-stage shapeshifters among the lesser demons.

So, it was clear enough that this year’s tournament would see him as, at best, a participant—or, more likely, a bystander.

A moment’s thought confirmed it: being a leader brought far more troubles than his former carefree days as a little demon.

Before, he envied the leaders—their power, their authority, the ease with which they determined life or death for their followers.

Now, he saw only endless affairs and heavy responsibilities. There was no escaping it, not even for a demon.

Still, this was the path he’d chosen to climb.

There was no alternative, unless he wanted to live as a wild demon.

But wild demons were all too likely to lose their lives. The stronger would devour you without a qualm.

Take the Black General, for instance—had Lu Fei not offered up his treasured handkerchief to the Third Lord, he’d likely have ended up digested and excreted long ago, just like that mute Sheep Commander.

As Lu Fei’s thoughts wandered, the Black General, seeing the little demons’ chatter dying down, spoke again: “This competition is only for the little demons—it doesn’t concern the leaders. And one more thing…”

After the Black General finished his announcements and left, the Wolf Commander stepped forward to say a few words.

With that, the morning meeting for the little demons was over.

But the leaders’ meeting was only just beginning, as they all headed for the General’s Cave.

“Big brother…” The call from below turned Lu Fei’s head; he saw the crow demon, Redskin, and Huang Gui waiting together.

He waved them off, signaling them to return, then stepped onto a swirling mass of black mist and followed the other leaders up the mountain.

As he flew, Lu Fei observed that the black mist beneath the other leaders was much like his own—just denser and darker in hue.

The sheep-headed leader—the one who’d hauled in those who failed to pay up their spirit herb and butchered them in the kitchen only days before—stood out. The black mist beneath his feet was the densest, almost coalescing into a cloud.

None, however, could match the Wolf Commander, who stood upon a true black cloud.

Since his promotion to demon general, Lu Fei had finally begun to grasp the hierarchy of demon strength.

For instance, the Wolf Commander who had favored him—he’d learned only yesterday, through a drinking session with the stag demon, Big Horn (Huang Gui’s former leader), that the Wolf Commander was, like himself, a demon general.

No wonder, then, that the Wolf Commander’s oppressive aura had diminished after his own breakthrough—though the commander remained formidable.

He’d learned that the Wolf Commander was late-stage demon general, one step removed from the Black General, who had reached the Demon Marshal stage—also known as the Demon Core Realm.

His own former Bear Commander was only an early-stage demon general, while the sheep-headed leader was at the mid-stage. The stag demon, who’d told him all this, was also early-stage.

Of the nine minor leaders, only two were mid-stage, the rest early-stage.

Counting the Wolf Commander and himself, Langlang Mountain now boasted eleven demon generals.

All this Big Horn had told him.

But when Lu Fei asked about the power of the Third Lord, who stood above even the Black General, Big Horn had grown evasive. Only after repeated prodding did he finally admit, with caution, that the Third Lord had reached the true Demon King stage—equivalent, in human cultivation, to a realm that included the word “Immortal.”

After that, no matter how much Lu Fei pressed, Big Horn said no more.

But even that single word left Lu Fei shaken.

If the realm involved “Immortal,” then the Third Lord might actually be one.

He’d suspected the Third Lord—so powerful that the Black General had been left begging for mercy—was strong, but not that he might be an immortal.

For someone from Earth, from the land of the Flower Kingdom, the word “Immortal” was almost too fantastical, too enticing.

Now, as a newly made demon general with a rough idea of the “Path to the Heavens,” Lu Fei was both astounded and full of expectation.

Astonished, because this world actually contained immortals.

As for hope—well, if the black-faced lord could do it, why couldn’t he? Especially with a virtual panel at his disposal.

Though he still didn’t know what kind of world this really was…

“Bai Lang…” A voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Lu Fei turned to see the stag demon, Big Horn, with his great antlers, flying over.

Speak of the devil.

“Big Horn…” Lu Fei greeted him at once, remembering well the friendliness the stag had shown him yesterday.

As a little demon, he’d only needed to associate with the likes of the crow demon and Redskin. As a leader, he had to deal with his peers.

Whatever Big Horn’s reasons for friendliness, for now, Lu Fei had to respond in kind.

“What do you think the general will say this time?” Big Horn asked as he flew closer.

“I suppose he’ll mention the competition just announced,” Lu Fei replied. “Beyond that, I can’t guess.”

“I think the little demon contest is a minor issue. The general might bring up the competition under the Third Lord’s banner in two years—that’s what really matters, especially for us.”

Lu Fei found this plausible. He’d had the same thought, but having come to this world only recently, and risen to leader so quickly, there was much he didn’t know.

So, for now, his motto was: speak less, listen more, and think harder.

“You’re right,” he agreed after a moment’s thought. “But it probably matters more to you and the other leaders than to me.”

Big Horn understood what Lu Fei meant but shook his head. “If, in two years’ time, we have to compete among ourselves first, I’ll bow out voluntarily.”

“Oh?” Lu Fei was surprised. “Why?”

Big Horn simply shook his head, smiling as he looked up. “We’re here. You’ll see soon enough if I’m right.”

Soon, the two entered the wide stone cave with the ancient characters “General’s Cave” carved above the door.

Suddenly, Lu Fei paused, remembering something. He glanced up again to read the words above the entrance before stepping inside.

It was his first time in the General’s Cave.

His first impression: spacious. It was three or four times the size of his own cave, with three stone tables—two in the middle, one farther in—and the innermost part screened off by a pink gauzy curtain.

He guessed that behind the curtain was the Black General’s sleeping quarters.

The cave was large. Besides the newly arrived leaders, there were four other demons present.

Behind the pink curtain sat a beautiful rabbit demon in human form, the Black General’s bedwarmer, her silhouette visible through the thin fabric.

At the center stone table sat the Black General himself, flanked by two semi-human female demons: one with a tiger’s head, one with a fox’s.

“Sit wherever you like,” the Black General said casually, downing a cup of wine poured for him by the fox demon.

The floor was smooth and bare. Since the Black General offered to sit, they were clearly to sit on the ground.

Lu Fei had just realized this when the other leaders, clearly used to the arrangement, sat down with practiced ease. He followed suit.

Then came the Black General’s voice: “I’ve called you here for two things. First, the little demon contest at the year’s first snow. Second, the competition in two years’ time…”

He began to explain both matters in detail.

The first was simple—a contest among their own mountain’s little demons.

The second was far more important: in two years, the four generals under the Third Lord would hold a grand contest, involving both the little demons and the leaders themselves.

By the time Lu Fei left the General’s Cave, it was midday.

He politely declined Big Horn’s invitation to linger, then rode his black mist straight toward the opposite peak.

Just outside the General’s Cave, he’d privately raised the issue with the Wolf Commander: that all his subordinates were new demons, and it would be difficult to pay the required ten stalks of spirit herb.

After some thought, the Wolf Commander had agreed to halve the requirement, reducing it from ten to five.

Lu Fei was satisfied. That was why he hadn’t risked bringing it up in front of the Black General.

The Wolf Commander would look out for him.

Even so, five stalks was still no small burden.

He had only two left in his storage space.

Last night, he’d noticed that after his breakthrough, his cultivation speed during meditation had slowed considerably. Even taking a spirit herb didn’t help as much as before.

It was clear—if he wanted to maintain his former progress, he’d need more spirit herbs.

But they were hard to find.

Add to that the time he needed to practice his magical arts and shoulder his new responsibilities as a leader, and it was obvious:

He would be very busy in the days to come.