Demonic Tribulations - Chapter 84 preview (Patreon)

Chapter 84 – Wu Ying

Even with the aid of the winds, even taking rest on the peng at times, even with his immortal body, multiple days of continuous motion exhausted Wu Ying. So when the sight of the new city arrived, sprawled far beneath them, he rejoiced within.

“Great Zong. When we stop, what will you do?” Wu Ying asked, curiously.

“Hunt.”

“Hunt?” Yang Mu cut-in, surprised.

“Yes.” The creature projected a vision to them, of an open plain not far away. It was seen from high above, but the focus was not the plain itself nor the tornadoes that roared through it, massive swirling windstorms that dragged whatever creature or individual unlucky enough to cross into the plains into the air.

No, the focus was on the creatures that lived high above it, floating in the air. Wu Ying could only relate them to jellyfish, giant bulbous creatures whose body expanded and closed, air flowing forth from their translucent skin.

In the memory, he saw flashes of other peng, other of the flock and a warm feeling of closeness and a smaller one of annoyance filtered through the memory. Then, in the memory, one of the creatures dived, swooping down to pluck one of the creatures from the air before ascending once again. It tore into the monster, swallowing the stone at the heart of its body before it began to tear flesh from the monster with each dip of its beak.

Wu Ying shuddered, for he could sense the strength of the creatures that the peng preyed upon. The least powerful was in the low Core Formation cultivation stage, some easily rivaling Nascent Soul cultivators. There was a tiny jellyfish, floating near the center, basking in the rising wind and fire chi that caused Wu Ying to grip his sword. Even in the memory, he could sense the peng’s wariness of that creature.

Small, but mighty.

“I… you eat them?” Yu Ag spoke up. In the interim period, the translator’s command of the language had grown by leaps and bounds, as had Wu Ying and Yang Mu’s own knowledge of the demon’s language. It was, thankfully, not too different from their own, such that they were able to learn it fast. Yang Mu still had a better command of it, having had a few lessons over Wu Ying’s imprisonment time to study the languages they might encounter. “They are the rulers of the Desolate Plains. It is because of them that the tornadoes form.”

“They the plains, we the sky,” Zong She said, proudly.

“Well, will you return or…?” Yang Mu cut-in, all business like. Content to focus on the business on hand, ignoring the implications of the feeding habits of the peng. It was, perhaps for the best, that the humanoids lived too close to the ground to make for easy pickings.

“Come to me.”

“We will.” Yang Mu grimaced, eyeing the boxes. They could carry some in their storage rings, but theirs were quite at capacity. Bringing them up had been a series of trips, with Wu Ying levitating the group up with the aid of the wind and the pair leashing the boxes together with their will.

“Going down will be easier.” Wu Ying spotted the frown and grinned. “I’ve got an idea.”

Was it wrong then, that he refused to explain? He kept silent until they arrived at the city, joining the circling peng who – like him – had found some common ground with other cultivators. Then, he enacted his plan, to the chagrin of both ladies.