Chapter 27: The Mountain Spirit Bestows a Treasure, A Fortunate Encounter to Behold

The Twenty-Eight Constellations, the Tail-Fire Tiger?

Cao Kong silently recited the words in his heart, but he did not fully believe them. It was, after all, only one side of the story. Besides, the other claimed to be a descendant of the Twenty-Eight Constellations, yet he himself was a registered disciple of the Supreme Lord Taiyi, Savior from Suffering. He had intervened to save people out of kindness and in the spirit of rescuing the distressed; did he, Cao, have anything to fear?

Just then, more footsteps sounded—the Golden-Spotted Leopard arrived, causing the tiger demon's pupils to contract once more. Observing the resemblance between the two brothers, the demon reasoned that while their abilities might differ, the gap would not be great.

“There has never been enmity between us. Why do you help these mortals?” the tiger demon growled low.

Cao Kong answered calmly, “Why help? Let’s say it’s in gratitude for the warmth of their fire for half the night and a bowl of hot water.”

“You—” A flicker of bewilderment flashed in the tiger demon’s eyes. Such a reason seemed far too frivolous. Yet recalling the brief exchange and recognizing Cao Kong’s strength, and given that his plan to refine the mountain spirit would succeed in less than a month, he had no wish to entangle himself further. After all, these were nothing but a handful of mortals; he could always hunt them another day.

“Very well, you may take these people and go. Let us not cross each other’s paths.”

Cao Kong regarded him quietly, then signaled the Golden-Spotted Leopard to help the people away, while he himself remained facing the tiger demon.

Suddenly, a faint voice drifted into his ears: “Don’t leave. I am the mountain god, harmed by this tiger demon. If you save me, I shall reward you handsomely.”

Cao Kong heard but showed no change of expression; he had never intended to leave. The merchant caravan had shown kindness, yet were set upon by this tiger demon, who called forth spirits to devour them—an act of evil. If he did not eliminate evil when he saw it, how would he be worthy of the name of his master, Taiyi, Savior from Suffering, or true to his own heart?

“Now that the men are gone, you may leave as well,” the tiger demon said, seeing the merchants had scattered.

“Who said I was leaving?” Cao Kong replied serenely.

A roar rang out. “You’re toying with me! Don’t push your luck—I’ve already given you enough face!” the tiger demon bared its fangs and roared.

Cao Kong said nothing; golden radiance surged from him. This was the innate power of the Taiyi Golden Light Mantra—not only a protective charm, but one that magnified every move with tremendous force, as if amplifying one’s cultivation.

Seeing this, the tiger demon spat forth a foul wind, from which emerged a host of phantoms—men and women, old and young, numbering no less than dozens—all were ghosts bound to the tiger demon. Then, turning to flee deeper into the cave, he rode the wind in haste.

These specters were souls devoured by the tiger demon, thus enslaved to him, never to enter the cycle of reincarnation, nor find peace.

Cao Kong’s heart remained unshaken; he was not distracted by the phantoms. The golden light shone brilliantly about him as he pursued the tiger demon.

As the specters approached, they felt as if exposed to sunlight, scorched by solar essence; black miasma rose from their forms and they recoiled in pain.

Cao Kong ignored them, riding the wind in pursuit, swift as a great roc, and soon reached the cave’s deepest recesses.

There, the air was thick with the stench of blood; the earth beneath was soaked crimson, mounds of bone piled high—shattered limbs, hearts, livers, and lungs scattered about.

At the center stood an altar of white bone, set within which was a clay effigy, its face contorted with pain. Upon seeing Cao Kong, it cried out, “Beware!”

A whistling sound pierced the air—a heavy-bladed saber with a ring-shaped pommel, its thick spine gleaming with blood-red demonic energy.

The wielder: a man with a tiger’s head—the tiger demon in full form.

“You refuse my mercy, then die for my king!” the tiger demon bellowed, his gaze fierce.

At that moment, an odd thought flashed through Cao Kong’s mind:

“A pity it’s not a sword.”

He shifted his stance, the nine palaces and eight trigrams revolving in his heart, his body moving accordingly.

The Sword Scripture bestowed by the Supreme Lord Taiyi was profound beyond compare. Though named for the sword, it encompassed myriad techniques, its footwork and swordplay yielding endless possibilities.

Cao Kong appeared at the tiger demon’s flank, arms crossed to seize the saber, and with a forceful twist, wrenched it from the demon’s grasp.

Using the blade as if it were a sword, he unleashed a technique inspired by the Eastern Seven Constellations—clouds billowed, thunder rumbled, yin and yang clashed, and lightning burst forth!

Thunder boomed.

Purple lightning crackled along the blade, writhing serpentine, radiating overwhelming might as it cleaved toward the tiger demon.

Fear and panic filled the tiger demon’s eyes. He tried to pull away, but could not escape. In desperation, he spat a mouthful of vital blood, formed seals with his hands, and with a surge of demonic energy, spewed forth a blaze of blood-red fire.

The cave’s temperature soared to an unthinkable degree.

With a crash, the blood fire was split by Cao Kong’s saber, the flames parting in two, and the sickening sound of bone breaking echoed.

With a thud, the tiger demon’s white bones split open, blood gushing, and his body was hurled backward.

“Spare me! If you kill me, my ancestor, the Tail-Fire Tiger, will never let you go!” the demon pleaded in panic, having not even time to cry out in pain. But the flash of the saber was the last thing he saw—the heavy blade plunged straight into his forehead.

He was dead.

At that moment, the Golden-Spotted Leopard peeked in.

“Brother, it’s over.”

Cao Kong nodded. “Yes.” He turned his gaze to the clay effigy upon the bone altar.

The effigy was dumbstruck, never having expected the tiger demon who had tormented him so to fall to Cao Kong.

He exclaimed with joy, “Benefactor, thank you for saving my life! I am the spirit of this mountain, but the tiger demon trapped me within this formation, destroyed my temple, and extinguished my incense. For this rescue, I vow to repay you handsomely.”

Cao Kong recalled the ruined temple where indeed a statue had been missing. Since the effigy had been sealed here by the tiger demon, he saw little cause for concern.

“How can I free you?” he asked gravely.

The effigy hesitated, “This formation was acquired by the tiger demon from some unknown place. It traps me, but requires continual infusion of power. Now that he is dead, perhaps if you wait a while, the formation will dissipate.”

Cao Kong shook his head—he had neither the time nor patience to wait. He examined the formation and reached out to touch it; at once, crimson ripples shimmered across the bone altar.

He invoked the Taiyi Golden Light Mantra; golden radiance glimmered along his arm and the red light flickered, growing unstable as it was dispelled by the gold.

It was Cao Kong’s first encounter with such a formation, so he dared not act rashly—if he destroyed it too abruptly, the effigy might perish as well. Thus, he steadily increased his power, slowly wearing it down.

The formation was insidious, but his golden light power was a natural bane to such evil, so before long, he had completely dispelled it.

With the sinister spell broken, the clay effigy was freed, crashing to the ground and kneeling in gratitude. “I am the mountain god of Mount Funiu—thank you, benefactor, for saving my life!”

Beside him, the Golden-Spotted Leopard poked his head forward. “Don’t just thank us—what about that handsome reward you mentioned?”

The effigy looked embarrassed. “I have only just been released and possess nothing of value. However, there is a spiritual treasure in this mountain, nurtured by the land’s veins for centuries; it will mature within a month or two. Perhaps you could return for it then.”

The Golden-Spotted Leopard curled his lip. “That’s hardly a reward. Don’t you have anything immediate, something real?”

The effigy, realizing the awkwardness, gritted his teeth and said, “There is one thing. I acquired it by chance—a booklet of remarkable quality. I do not know if it will be of use to you.”