Well-versed in herbal medicine, she was all too familiar with healing the scars of others.
Luo Shuican's hands moved deftly as she kneaded a lump of clay, shaping it into simple humanoid figures one by one. After molding seven or eight, she poured out a mass of a demon's soul from her spirit pouch.
The soul seethed with malice, writhing resentfully on the ground. With a snap of her left hand, it collapsed weakly. Shuican pressed her palms together, weaving a purification spell. *"Behave."* She tapped the soul with two fingers, dispelling its foul aura.
Transformed into a pure, silently burning flame, the soul was now docile. She scooped it up, pinching off small fragments to infuse into each clay figure. The first clay man sprang to life. Just as she was about to animate the second, the newly awakened creature examined itself, then Shuican, its lips moving soundlessly before spreading its arms like wings.
*"I see—you want wings?"* Shuican smiled, brushing her left hand over the figure. In an instant, translucent, cicada-like wings sprouted from its back, shimmering with flecks of light. The clay man buzzed excitedly around her in gratitude before pointing at its still-lifeless brethren, gesturing for each to receive wings as well.
Understanding, Shuican obliged. Soon, eight clay insects hovered in a circle, seemingly conspiring before suddenly dispersing, vanishing into the distance.
The method of creating these clay insects was, in fact, a simplified version of the very technique that had resurrected her. The demon who had once awakened her, of course, had long since perished.
Exhausted, Shuican leaned against a large rock to rest, her dark hair spilling loose. Just as drowsiness crept in, the hum of fluttering wings reached her ears—several clay insects circled her, each carrying medicinal herbs in their tiny mouths.
*"Fangshu, platycodon, silvergrass... all for detoxification and purification. Thank you—just put them in the pouch for later."* She smiled.
The insects shook their heads, still hovering insistently. *"You gathered these... for me?"* They nodded in unison.
Shuican fell silent for a moment before carefully collecting the herbs. She cupped her hands, letting the clay insects alight on her palms.
*"Your souls came from that venomous scorpion demon I captured. See? Even among demons, there is kindness."*
Her thoughts drifted. *Kind demons...*
*Faraway demon, after all these years... have you been well?*
She instructed the clay insects to rest in the grass, then ground a portion of the herbs into a wooden bowl. Slowly, she loosened her robes, revealing a ghastly scar stretching from her left shoulder, its poisoned edges barely contained by tightly wound bandages. The wound ran deep, threatening to spread further.
This was why the clay insects had sought the herbs—they had sensed their master's unhealed injury.
*I am but a dead woman walking, a skeleton clinging to life. How could I dare hope for eternity?*
Under the moonlight, she applied the poultice, knowing it was little more than a futile gesture.
If nothing unforeseen happened, her fate would likely lead her to Ailuo Mountain, the so-called capital of demonic beasts, where she would fight until death claimed her. So be it. Every life had its ordained path.
*Faraway demon... may a clever, spirited girl stay by your side, so you need not be lonely. Not a doomed wanderer like me.*
The pain of her wound had long since numbed. Her consciousness blurred as she slipped into dreams.
In her dream, she recalled her father's early teachings about purifying demons. It was not a matter of tediously cleansing them one by one, but of mastering a purer, more potent energy—one that could inspire entire hordes of demons to abandon darkness willingly, without force.
*"There is an old saying: 'The highest form of battle is to win without fighting.'"* Her father had told her. Yet if demons were truly vile, why bother with "enlightenment"? Shuican had never understood.
The scene shifted. She was bathed in a warm, radiant light, reaching out to grasp Mingxuan's hand. His gentle smile, beautiful as polished jade, nearly brought her to tears.
Then the hands morphed—into a spider demon's legs, a rat demon's claws, an insect demon's writhing tendrils, a serpent demon's flickering tongue...
*A single thought, ten thousand forms.*
*"Swish!"*
An arrow pierced the clouds, striking down an insect demon beneath an oak tree.
Sensing demonic energy and loosing an arrow had become second nature to Shuican, even in her dreams.
She stood, dusting off her clothes before slinging her bow and tying up her hair.
*"Little clay insects, keep up. We're moving out."*