Edward suddenly stopped in his tracks, feeling an unprecedented change coursing through his body.
He looked at the floating text before him, his mind racing with the possibilities.
[Remaining Demon Life: 41 years]
[Resonance with Heaven and Earth (Uninitiated)]
[Year 8: By absorbing the primordial energy of the heavens and earth, you finally repaired your body and cleared away the hidden injuries that had accumulated over the years. Your physical state has reached an unprecedented peak.]
[Year 19: Thanks to your calm mindset, the entire cultivation process went smoothly without any mishaps or dangers.]
[Year 28: Your progress began to slow down. You realized that the breath of the world stored in your blood had been tainted by your own energy, creating a conflict between your essence and the pure energy of the world. There is no quick fix for this; the only way forward is patience and seeking gradual breakthroughs.]
[Year 40: You are just one step away from reaching the "small accomplishment" stage of Resonance with Heaven and Earth. At this moment, you feel as though you've almost touched upon the mysteries, but the final key still eludes you.]
[Remaining Demon Life: 1 year]
[Remaining Human Life: 22 years]
…
Edward felt the surge of energy and transformation inside him.
For the first time, he experienced having more life essence than a demon. This new sensation filled him with excitement and satisfaction.
The joy within him was not only from the 22 additional years of life but more from the metamorphosis of the power within his body.
He raised his hand slightly, his fingers curving subtly.
A soft white mist materialized at his fingertips, with streaks of crimson threaded through it, carrying with it a force from the heavens.
His body felt as if every muscle was teeming with an untold strength, operating as one seamless unit.
"So comfortable…" Edward muttered to himself in a low voice, barely able to suppress the elation in his heart.
He was no longer the man he once was.
His strength had grown so dramatically that even he found it hard to believe.
After a moment, he managed to calm his emotions.
…
The streets were eerily quiet, and Edward walked with his hands in his pockets, his expression calm and unbothered.
Though outwardly he showed no sign of disturbance, his keen ears picked up a hushed conversation from a couple on the roadside.
"Someone died on Rose Street."
One man whispered anxiously.
"I know. I just came from there. Scared me half to death."
The other man responded, his voice thick with fear.
Edward's expression remained unchanged, and he continued his slow pace forward.
But he was clearly intrigued by their conversation, focusing intently on the details.
"I heard they were mauled to death?"
The first man's voice trembled as he spoke, unable to hide his terror.
"I told you to stop talking about it…"
The other man warned, his tone filled with worry.
"I got there early. I saw it with my own eyes, and now I feel sick just thinking about it."
Both men shuddered at the memory, their voices filled with dread and horror.
Edward's steps suddenly halted, his body tensing for a moment.
Then, without a second thought, he turned and headed in the opposite direction.
…
The air on Rose Street was filled with a nauseating stench.
A few patrolling soldiers walked out of a small courtyard, pinching their noses in disgust.
"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. I knew I shouldn't have come here."
One of the soldiers complained.
"Jefferson, you should ask for a raise from the higher-ups. Covering two extra streets isn't a problem, but we need more pay."
Another soldier chimed in, hoping to use this opportunity to negotiate a better deal.
Jefferson shot him a cold glare.
"Shut up with your nonsense. If you don't want to work, leave. Plenty of people are willing to take your place."
He turned to leave but suddenly noticed Edward standing silently, watching the courtyard from a distance.
Jefferson was taken aback, not expecting to see him there.
"Well, well! Edward! What brings you here?"
Jefferson forced a smile and greeted him.
Edward nodded without much expression, his focus remaining on the courtyard as he started walking toward it.
Seeing this, Jefferson quickly stepped in front of Edward, his forced smile slipping into a more stern look.
"If this were a brothel, I'd personally carry you in and cover the bill.
But this is an official matter. You shouldn't get involved."
Edward glanced down at Jefferson, his face cold.
"Even if you won't give me any respect, you should at least give Secretary Jack some face."
Jefferson's tone became more serious, his words now carrying more weight.
"I'm telling you now, Edward. Nobody is allowed in this courtyard today, especially not you."
He motioned to the soldiers behind him, signaling them to prepare.
"Draw your weapons. Let's remind Edward of his place."
At his command, the soldiers immediately unsheathed their weapons, their faces tense.
In the next moment, Edward suddenly kicked Jefferson in the stomach with lightning speed.
Jefferson didn't even have time to react before he was thrown to the ground, groaning in pain as the air was knocked out of him.
His body crumpled, too weak to stand.
Edward calmly dusted off his clothes and continued into the courtyard without so much as a backward glance.
"What are you doing?!"
One of the patrol soldiers stammered in fear, his voice shaking.
The others exchanged uneasy glances, not expecting such a swift and decisive move.
Just then, Richard arrived with Wester and a group of patrolmen, quickly rushing to the scene.
Seeing the chaos in front of him, Richard's face twisted in anger.
Without hesitation, he grabbed his sword and struck the patrolmen blocking the courtyard's entrance.
"Are you all blind? Do you even know where you are? Tie them up!"
Wester stood frozen in confusion for a moment.
Usually, he would be the one shouting orders like this, and they were typically directed at common folk.
It was rare to see such commands used against fellow soldiers.
Richard had always been one to despise those who abused their power, but today, he was cursing even more fiercely than Wester.
It baffled him.
Despite his confusion, Wester didn't ask questions.
He quickly led the others to tie up the bewildered patrol soldiers.
Richard, meanwhile, stood near the scene and muttered to himself.
"As I thought…"
Richard had been out on patrol when he overheard some rumors that gave him a bad feeling, prompting him to rush over.
"As you thought? Knowing Edward's temper, you think he'd let someone intrude on his territory?"
Wester rolled his eyes and spat on the ground in response.
…
Edward crouched inside the courtyard, staring down at two mutilated bodies that had been painstakingly pieced back together.
His brows furrowed, and a heavy feeling settled in his chest.
Taking a deep breath, he gently arranged the five scattered fingers of the little girl's hand, trying his best to restore some semblance of completeness to their broken forms.
In his experience, if demons were responsible, there were usually only remnants left behind.
But today's situation was different.
Despite the gruesome state of the father and daughter, with their ears and eyes retrieved from various places, there were no signs of them being eaten.
This indicated that this wasn't a simple act of feeding but a brutal, calculated act of revenge.
Demons had families too, and Edward understood that the demons he had provoked recently wouldn't let things go easily.
They might not know for sure who had attacked them, but they didn't need proof. All they cared about was venting their anger.
And this father and daughter had become the targets of that rage.
Nearby, Jefferson struggled to lift his head, his mouth full of curses.
"You hit me… for what?
What good does it do to look at the bodies?
What can you do? Go to the mayor?
Go find the demons outside the town?"
He spat out, still breathing heavily.
"This was obviously done by the weasel demons!
Can you even figure out which ones did it? And even if you do, what can you do about it?"
Jefferson's voice grated on Edward's nerves, his words filled with cynical defeatism.
It only added to the weight of frustration and sorrow pressing down on Edward's heart.
He knew now, without a doubt, that he had been drawn into a dangerous storm, and this slaughter was only the beginning.
Without a word, Edward gently covered the broken bodies with a white cloth, his heart burning with silent rage and grief.
Though he spoke no words, he had already made up his mind.
Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, Edward stood tall, ready to confront whatever darkness lay ahead.