Chapter Thirty: Do It!

The peach tree that had mutated was at least several decades old. Its trunk was enormously thick, the bark a blackish brown, deeply fissured with hardened peach resin filling every crevice. Yet, before the astonished gaze of all present, those tough, ancient layers of bark bulged outward, manifesting the contours of eyes, nose, mouth, and even eyebrows, forming a wrinkled visage—a face carved of wood, full of fury.

Moreover, the tree’s bark face exuded an expression of intense anger. “You mongrel, I have no feud with you. Why must you insist on crossing me?” Its mouth moved up and down, issuing a harsh, grating voice.

Meanwhile, countless branches trembled violently, their rustling merging into a ceaseless, ominous chorus. The uncanny spectacle left Master Zhao and his guards pale-faced with terror. Instinctively, they retreated, fearful of becoming the tree demon’s next target. Master Zhao’s eyes became fixed and vacant; he staggered, nearly falling to the ground. He had always enjoyed sitting in the peach grove of the rear courtyard, sipping tea and reading to ease his mind. Never had he imagined that a demon lurked within these trees.

Thinking of the servants who had vanished recently, Master Zhao’s dread was beyond words. Only after he had hidden behind Daoist Pang and Fang Xiao did he barely regain his composure, avoiding public disgrace. Now, he pinned all his hopes on the high-priced cultivators he had hired.

Daoist Pang sneered, “You talk too much!” As soon as he finished, he raised his horsetail whisk. Just as everyone expected Daoist Pang to display his mystical prowess and subdue the ancient tree demon in one fell swoop, he turned his head and said to Fang Xiao, “Go on, take care of it!”

Fang Xiao did not hesitate. “Alright!” He saw nothing amiss in the Daoist’s command. In fact, he had already drawn the Hundred-Refined Black Iron Spear from his satchel, gripping it tightly.

In the next moment, Fang Xiao strode forward in great bounds. His right arm swung up, spear shaft pointing ahead. With a sharp sound, the spear extended instantly to nearly seven feet in length—the triangular spearhead sprang forth.

“Kill!” Fang Xiao advanced three powerful steps, each leaving deep imprints in the earth. A surge of formidable energy welled up from his muscles and bones, flowing like streams into the spear. In that instant, Fang Xiao was like a fierce tiger unleashed from its cage, his roar echoing through the peach grove.

The old tree demon had kept its focus on Daoist Pang, prepared for a mortal struggle with him. It never expected the first attack to come from the young Fang Xiao. Not only the tree demon but even Master Zhao and the onlookers were stunned—how could a youth hope to contend with an ancient demon? Surely, the young are inexperienced, not to be trusted with such peril.

As the battle erupted, Daoist Pang seemed to be using his nephew as cannon fodder. But before these thoughts could settle, Fang Xiao’s Hundred-Refined Black Iron Spear transformed into a black dragon, its triangular head whistling through the air, imbued with an unstoppable force as it thrust toward the tree demon’s face.

Only then did the old tree demon react, flaring with rage. The peach tree shuddered violently. Countless branches and leaves sprang to life, shooting forward to intercept Fang Xiao. He thrust his spear at the demon, met in return by a barrage of whistling branches. Even if Fang Xiao struck his target, he would have to endure the fierce counterattack of those branches. The tree demon might yet survive, but Fang Xiao would surely be pierced through like a sieve.

Yet, Fang Xiao showed no fear and made no attempt to evade. All his strength and resolve converged upon the Hundred-Refined Black Iron Spear, charging forward with unwavering confidence and determination.

With a dull sound, the spearhead penetrated the thick trunk, striking precisely at the tree demon’s brow. The tough bark yielded like paper, offering no resistance as the spearhead drove through. In the next instant, it burst through the other side of the trunk.

A spray of wood chips exploded forth.

"Aaargh!" The tree demon let out an agonized, piercing scream. All the peach branches attacking Fang Xiao writhed wildly as though seized by madness. Seizing the moment, Fang Xiao withdrew his spear and leapt backward, narrowly avoiding several branches that lashed at him.

“You shall die a miserable death!” The demon’s face now bore a hole the size of a fist, out of which peach sap gushed. Yet even as it wailed, the demon’s mouth remained defiant, cursing venomously.

But for all its bravado, the tree demon’s body betrayed its desperation. Suddenly, green and red peaches shot out like cannonballs, raining down upon the crowd. Next, the ground around the tree cracked open, roots burst forth, and the ancient demon, using its roots as legs, swayed its leafy crown and fled swiftly toward the rear mountain, scattering leaves along its path.

Such an outrageous scene left Fang Xiao, who had just dodged the flying peaches, utterly dumbfounded.

Can it really do that?

“Why are you just standing there? Chase it!” Daoist Pang’s reminder snapped Fang Xiao out of his stupor. He raised his spear and hurried after the fleeing demon.

Daoist Pang shook his head and quietly slipped the talisman he held back into his sleeve, remaining calm and unhurried. In contrast, Master Zhao became anxious. “Master Pang, we mustn’t let that demon escape!” The squire was lucky—the demon’s wild barrage of peaches had missed him entirely, though two guards had been struck black and blue. Still, Master Zhao felt no relief, only worry that the demon would return for revenge. Daoist Pang could not remain at the estate forever; how could the Zhao family withstand the demon’s wrath?

He was truly terrified.

Daoist Pang smiled, “Don’t worry. My nephew will handle it!” As he spoke, Fang Xiao had already caught up with the demon. Despite its enormous size, the tree demon moved swiftly, crashing through the orchard’s retaining wall and heading for the hill beyond. But at that moment, its pace slowed dramatically. From the wound where it had been struck, dark red sap poured forth, and the surrounding area began to rot and fester, spreading rapidly as if plagued by disease.

The tree demon realized its peril. It summoned every ounce of demonic power within, struggling to stem the spreading injury. Yet its efforts failed—the demon’s consciousness grew clouded.

“What’s happening?”

“Poison! It’s poisoned!”

“Help me!”

It cried out in despair.

With a dull thud, the long spear, like a dragon in pursuit, pierced the thick trunk once more.

All sounds ceased.