Chapter Twelve: The White Serpent in the Temple, the Black Carp King

“Hmph! You two must leave this place at once. Should you interfere with our offering to the River God, you shall be put to death!”

The sorcerer’s voice rang out fiercely, as if Cold Moon and Han Chong had dug up his ancestors’ graves. All around, the fishermen snatched up stones and hurled them at the pair in a wild frenzy.

“Fall back!” Han Chong pressed his knees to his horse’s flanks, guiding his mount away from the mob alongside Cold Moon.

“We shouldn’t be retreating!”

In the span of ten breaths, the two had reached a hill several miles away.

“Commander Leng, those fishermen had their boats capsized by the river monster—their livelihood destroyed. They’re victims too. Right now, they won’t listen to anything we say. Let’s wait for a while,” Han Chong counseled, shaking his head.

“What are you waiting for?”

“When officers from the county yamen arrive, we can return and disperse the fishermen with ease. Then I’ll be the first to charge into the Riverbank Shrine to investigate! Once we have evidence of the demon, the fishermen will be convinced.”

…

“Not good! Those fishermen are about to offer up a boy and a girl as a sacrifice!”

Han Chong’s expression darkened. Half an hour passed, but the county officials never appeared. Instead, within the crowd, two burly men each carried a young child, intending to place them in a large wooden basin and set them adrift on the river.

“Outrageous! That county magistrate of Yichuan still hasn’t shown himself!” Cold Moon’s face was frosted with anger.

“That sorcerer is adept at deceiving and harming people. We must hurry back and stop them!”

Han Chong spurred his horse, racing back to the riverbank.

“Stop! The trouble in this river is caused by a monster, not a god. To offer children as sacrifice is utter folly!” Han Chong shouted, reining in his horse and berating the crowd.

“You two scoundrels dare return and show such disrespect to the River God? Beat them to death!” The sorcerer grew even more incensed, inciting the hundreds of fishermen to attack the pair.

“Damn it!”

At that moment, Han Chong’s face flushed red. He raised his head and spat forth a tongue of flame, fierce and scorching like a fire dragon, instantly cowing the villagers into shock and terror.

“We are Demon-Slaying Captains of the Great Feng Demon-Slaying Division. Who dares to act rashly? Any who do will be executed without mercy!”

He had not wished to reveal his powers before common folk, lest it seem he was showing off or oppressing them. But the circumstances left no room for restraint; only a display of thunderous force would suffice.

The hundreds of fishermen, awed as if witnessing deities, dropped their stones and knelt, praying fervently. The sorcerer, too, was stricken with fear; seeing Han Chong’s gaze, he could only prostrate himself.

A couple rushed from the crowd to clutch the two children to their chests, weeping uncontrollably.

“Honored sirs, please, you must not anger the River God again! Otherwise, the god’s wrath will destroy our boats and leave the thousands of fishermen in Yichuan County destitute!”

Though cowed by the Demon-Slaying Division’s reputation, the sorcerer still tried to extol the River God’s power. The fishermen began to stir again, deeply entrenched in their belief.

“You wretched witch, cease your lies and incitement, or I’ll throw you to the river to feed the demon!” Han Chong spat another tongue of flame toward her, sending her sprawling in terror, shrieking in fright.

With their sorcerer silenced, the fishermen dared not resist and began kowtowing, begging for help.

“Good people, watch over our horses. We two will take a boat to the river, to investigate the shrine and see if any demon dwells within!”

Dismounting, Han Chong hoisted a small boat from the shore, carried it to the water, and set off with Cold Moon, rowing toward the riverbank shrine.

…

They had barely gone far when the water around them began to boil as if over flame, and wild waves rose in the distance—several giant fish seemed to be charging toward them.

“There are so many fish demons in this river!” Han Chong rowed with all his might, the boat shooting toward the shrine like an arrow, while Cold Moon stood at the stern, slashing downward with her sword to fend off the fish demons and keep the boat from capsizing.

At last, they reached the shrine’s embankment by a hair’s breadth, hastily dragging their boat ashore. Only then did the fish demons reluctantly withdraw, leaving the fishermen on the far bank drenched in cold sweat.

Exchanging a glance, the two approached the demon shrine and pushed open its doors. A stench of fish rushed out, so foul it nearly made them retch.

In the center of the shrine sat a massive white-scaled python, coiled and poised to strike—a terrifying sight.

It resembled the “Lady White Jade” they had encountered before! But on closer inspection, it was only a statue of gleaming white stone, not the real creature.

“Could this shrine be connected to Lady White Jade?” Cold Moon wondered, brow furrowed.

“It must be. Perhaps this so-called river demon is that white python,” Han Chong speculated.

Covering their noses and mouths, they stepped inside, noticing nine oil lamps burning with a pungent, fishy odor—evidently fueled with some kind of marine fish oil, which explained the stench.

Suddenly, the shrine’s doors slammed shut. Two tall, black-faced men in flowered robes, wielding steel tridents, charged at them with shrill cries.

“Fish demons!”

They cried out and dodged swiftly. Han Chong spat a tongue of flame at the two attackers, while Cold Moon’s sword flickered with pale light as she thrust again and again.

The fish demons retaliated by spitting streams of water at them. Cold Moon evaded, but Han Chong was struck in the right chest. An icy chill spread over half his body, leaving him numb and wracked with pain.

Gritting his teeth, his left hand glowing with a green mist, he slashed out a blade of demon-slaying light in return. The blade moved with lightning speed, striking one fish demon square in the chest and carving a gaping hole.

With a wretched cry, the demon collapsed, transforming into a massive blue fish that flopped a few times before falling still.

The other fish demon was beset by Cold Moon’s relentless sword, wounded again and again. Seeing his companion slain, he dropped to his knees, begging for mercy.

“What kind of monster are you, and why are you here?” Cold Moon demanded, her sword at his throat.

“Please, noble immortals! I am but a humble catfish spirit, ordered by King Blackfish to guard Lady White Jade’s sacred body. Spare my life, I beg you!”

This black-faced demon was indeed distinct from the slain blue fish. His mouth stretched to his ears, his head was a bit flat, his body slime-covered, and six long whiskers bristled from his cheeks.

“What is the relationship between King Blackfish and Lady White Jade? Where are they now?”

At the mention of Lady White Jade, Han Chong thought he might finally find her trail. But from the catfish’s words, it seemed she was not here.

“King Blackfish was once Lady White Jade’s subordinate, but has now become a local ruler in his own right. He occupies the Silver River Palace here in Yichuan County. Lady White Jade’s whereabouts are unknown.”

“I see! Then all the destroyed fishing boats in Yichuan County are your doing!” Cold Moon said coldly, and with a single stroke, ended the catfish spirit’s life.

Han Chong turned to the white python statue, drew his broadsword, and hacked it to rubble in moments.

“What now?” Cold Moon asked, frowning.

“We’ll bring these two fish demons back for the fishermen to see with their own eyes. The so-called River God is nothing but a river demon. Then we’ll hunt down King Blackfish and slay him!”

“Agreed.”

Cold Moon nodded and opened the shrine doors.

Han Chong dragged the relatively clean blue fish demon corpse to the boat, and together they set off back across the river.

Just then, a massive wave rose up—a full thirty feet high. If it struck, their boat would surely capsize!

The two quickly rowed in the opposite direction, barely escaping the crashing wave.

But immediately after, a huge shadow surged beneath the water, easily several yards long.

“It’s King Blackfish!” Han Chong shouted, slashing a blade of demon-slaying light at the shadow. The blade shot into the water.

A patch of inky blood surfaced—only a minor wound. The resistance of the water made the blade easy to dodge and blunted its force.

Enraged, King Blackfish burst from the river, his gigantic, icy maw opening wide enough to swallow the boat whole. Jagged fangs interlocked in a terrifying display. If they were caught, even steel would be bitten in two, let alone their little boat!

At the critical instant, Han Chong and Cold Moon leapt into the air. King Blackfish’s jaws snapped the boat to splinters.

They landed on the demon’s back, then sprang toward the shore.

The danger was extreme—no one could hope to best such a monster in the water.

Han Chong, who had learned backstroke in a previous life, swam while sending blades of demon-slaying light behind him. But even so, he could not inflict serious harm on King Blackfish.

The monster’s immense black form twisted through the river like a dragon, and the two were nearly bitten several times.

Fortunately, the shore drew nearer. The water grew shallow, limiting King Blackfish’s strength, while the demon-slaying blades gained effectiveness. Wounded and bleeding, he could only watch as Han Chong and Cold Moon escaped to land.

Panting and shaken, they stared at the frenzied river demon still thrashing in the water, hearts filled with anger and lingering fear.

The hundreds of fishermen on shore had witnessed the entire harrowing scene, their jaws agape in speechless horror.

So it was this fiend that had wreaked havoc in the river, no wonder even the sturdiest boats had been overturned and so many lives devoured! This was no River God at all, but a terrifying demon!

“Sirs, are you hurt? Please, have some water.”

The fishermen hurried to Han Chong and Cold Moon, offering water and dried fish, their faces full of gratitude, shame, and hope.

“We’re fine, unhurt,” Han Chong replied, waving his hand, still gazing at the river, brow furrowed in thought.

“Sirs, you mustn’t leave Yichuan County! If this river demon is not eliminated, thousands of fishermen along both banks will starve!” The fishermen dropped to their knees, pleading incessantly.

“Rest assured, good people. We swear to slay King Blackfish. Within three days, we will give you all an answer!” Han Chong looked at the sorrowful, beleaguered crowd and sighed at the plight of ordinary folk—how a single blackfish demon could threaten thousands of lives!

“Han Chong, the demon’s power is formidable—its body vast and armored. Worse yet, in water, we stand no chance. Even if we could fight him, should he flee, it would be hard to kill him. Three days will not suffice,” Cold Moon said, her voice pained at the fishermen’s panic, but remaining calm and analytical.

At these words, the fishermen wailed all the more, turning hopeful eyes to Han Chong, for in their hearts, the man who could spit fire was nothing short of a god.