The owl spirit narrowed its eyes to look.
Niu Er, the weasel squad leader, and that treacherous snake—the outpost captain.
Hadn’t that plains outpost been completely wiped out by human cultivators long ago?
Last time, the Great Wu Demon King even sent demons to check—every single one of them had died. The distant mountain peak near the outpost had been sliced clean through by a single sword strike.
The terrifying power of that strike, according to the scouts who reported back, belonged to a cultivator at least at the late-stage Golden Core level.
It scared the Great Wu Demon King so badly that he fled back to the Broken Ridge that very day, stumbling and crawling in panic.
Leaving small fry like them to hold the front lines.
For days, he didn’t dare come near the front. Rumor had it he only returned under pressure from other demon kings, and even then, reluctantly.
Now he was still squatting at the very rear of the front…
That day had also made the owl spirit realize something deeper—most of the so-called demon kings in this demon kingdom were probably just jokes.
But King Kunshan—that tiger demon who raised the banner—was absolutely different from the others.
Though the owl spirit had never met King Kunshan, it had recited the tiger demon’s words in its mind countless times.
If there was any real hope of building a demon kingdom, it all lay with King Kunshan.
But for now, it had to deal with the three demons before it.
Humans had countless tricks up their sleeves—caution was a must.
The owl spirit stretched its neck and let out a call:
"Hoot, hoot, hoot…"
Under the quiet night sky, the sound was piercingly loud.
Before it even finished, a rough voice roared from behind:
"Stop that racket! Sounds like a damn funeral! What’s going on?"
A water buffalo clad in makeshift armor snorted through its nostrils as it cautiously crept along the trench toward the owl.
The owl twisted its neck a full ninety degrees to stare at the buffalo squad leader:
"Look over there—the weasel and that snake from the plains outpost, the one that got wiped out, they’re here!"
The buffalo squad leader froze, then hurriedly craned its neck to look. Sure enough, it spotted the three demons the owl had mentioned.
Its heart skipped a beat, and it instinctively cursed under its breath:
"What the hell is this? And for the last time, stop twisting your damn neck like that! Scares the shit out of me!"
How the hell did these three survive that massacre?
The buffalo would sooner believe the Great Wu Demon King’s excuse when he fled—"I wasn’t running scared, just making a tactical retreat."
By now, other small demons had emerged, clutching their weapons.
The owl, wide-eyed, suggested, "Something’s fishy. I say we loose a volley of bolts first!"
The buffalo’s expression darkened. As much as the idea tempted him, he shook his head after a moment’s thought, sounding almost resigned:
"Things are bad enough as it is. If it’s really some damn Golden Core Master attacking, what’s one volley gonna do? We’re dead either way. Let’s hear them out first."
Crude logic, but it made sense.
After all, nobody expected the Great Wu Demon King to come to their aid if a Golden Core Master showed up.
Last time, he fled overnight at just the rumor of one—without even seeing the guy.
What kind of useless demon king was that? Who’d rely on him?
The buffalo scanned the group of several dozen small demons and ordered,
"Stay sharp. If anything’s off, use the usual signal."
The owl sighed inwardly.
This "live-or-die-by-luck" feeling was downright maddening.
But there was no other choice now.
The owl turned back, eyes locked on the three approaching demons.
Just before the trench, the trio halted. The weasel stepped forward and shouted:
"Big buffalo! Strong and tough! Two big horns, mighty fine!"
The owl blinked, then swiveled its head again to stare at the squad leader.
They knew the passphrase?
Before it could speak, the buffalo’s hoof smacked its face, forcing it to turn back.
"Told you not to spin your damn head around like that!" the buffalo growled. "Nearly gave me a heart attack!"
The owl felt a pang of indignation. This was just how owls turned their heads! Every damn owl did it! If that was the case, why didn’t he stop flicking his stupid tail?
But it bit back the retort.
The buffalo cleared its throat and called back, "Screw the passphrase! Just get over here!"
Cui Hao frowned, glancing at Li Yingling.
"Did I mess up the call, or are they setting a trap?"
Li Yingling scanned the scene and transmitted her voice: "Then they’d better hope their fishing rod’s strong enough not to snap in my hands."
Cui Hao grinned. "Eldest Senior Sister, you’re the best!"
Lin Luoyu sighed quietly. If the sect’s culture ever took a weird turn, Cui Hao would bear at least ninety percent of the blame.
Li Yingling took the lead, stepping cautiously toward the trench.
Her spiritual sense swept over the area—just a few dozen small demons, with the buffalo at the Foundation Establishment stage in charge.
Under the watchful eyes of the demons, Li Yingling entered the trench first.
Inside, assorted small demons clutched their shabby weapons, eyeing her warily.
The buffalo, a broadsword at its waist, strode forward and scanned the group before addressing the snake:
"Heard your whole outpost got wiped out. It’s been ages—why’re you only coming back now?"
Before Li Yingling could answer, Cui Hao stepped up with a dramatic sigh.
"Got lucky, barely escaped," Cui Hao said, shaking his head mournfully. "That Golden Core butcher had to choose between killing us three or the whole outpost—he picked the outpost."
"We ran like hell, didn’t stop for miles, just barely made it out alive."
The buffalo’s eyes narrowed. It understood perfectly.
They’d traded a whole outpost’s lives for their own skins. Hell, they might’ve even led the Golden Core Master there.
The buffalo studied the weasel and pressed, "Then why’d it take you so long to return?"
"What, you think we’d march straight back? A Golden Core Master’s spiritual sense can cover who knows how far! We had to circle halfway around the damn continent! Humans everywhere—almost didn’t make it."
The buffalo nodded slowly, then turned to a subordinate.
"Go fetch some rations. These brothers must be starving after such a long detour."
The demon scurried off.
The buffalo asked again, "Pick up any intel on your way back?"
Cui Hao nodded eagerly. "Of course! Where’s the Great Wu Demon King? We’ve got urgent news for him!"
The buffalo gave another nod, then glanced back as a small demon approached with a large iron basin.
"Don’t rush," it said calmly. "It’s a long way. Eat first—wouldn’t want you collapsing from hunger on the road."
Cui Hao glanced sideways at the senior sister upon hearing this.
Li Yingling remained silent, standing motionless in place.
Soon, the little demon brought over the large iron basin.
Inside the basin, a heap of unidentified wild grass floated atop the water, mixed with what looked like animal carcasses resembling rat tails.
The water in the basin was a murky green, and as soon as it was set down, a pungent, foul odor assaulted their noses.
Niu Er swept his gaze over the expressions of the three demons before him, then casually rested his hand on the hilt of the simple sword at his waist. With a light chuckle, he said,
"This is the finest meal you'll get. Take your time eating—no need to rush."