Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)
Chapter 89: Pair of potatoes discovered

Chapter 89: Pair of potatoes discovered

The faint traces of the sweet substance the wolf craved hung in the air. Because the strong breeze was blowing the intoxicating and irresistible scent in all directions, the wolf was circling agitatedly. It was ensnared by its addiction and driven to madness. Xiang Yu adjusted his position his eyes never leaving the circling predator.

In a moment of inattentiveness, he stepped back, and with a snap, a twig snapped beneath his boot. He sucked a cold breath of air in annoyance. Ever since he came into this world and became a full mortal his vigilance had reduced drastically and his level of stealth almost nonexistent. He had completely lost the element of surprise.

The wolf’s head snapped toward him. It jumped off the boulder its hot breath spraying across Xiang Yu’s face. Malevolence danced in Xiang Yu’s eyes, his lips quirking into a crooked smile.

With a look of exhilaration in his eyes he lunged forward his sword slicing through the air. The wolf met him, fangs bared and drool dripping onto the dead leaves.

They grappled with an intense dance of death in the darkness. Xiang Yu’s muscles strained and his breath came in ragged gasps as he pressed his back against the rough boulder. The wolf, its eyes wild and saliva dripping from its snarling jaws, had him cornered. It snapped at him with its strong jaw, fueled by madness and rabid hunger.

Xiang Yu shifted away while trying to block the wolf from biting off his head when his back was pressed against a sharp shard sticking out of the boulder. He gritted his teeth in pain.

His sword trembled in his grip as he thrust it toward the beast. But his strength was a mere echo of what it was when he was the ruler of the northern demon realm.

The wolf, its eyes aflame with madness, clamped down on the blade, determined to wrest it from his grasp. But Xiang Yu held on until his knuckles turned white.

His other hand slid along the blade’s edge. Pain flared as he pressed the steel into the wolf’s jaw, tearing through flesh. The wolf’s blood dripped, mingling with Xiang Yu’s own.

The wolf, relentless as a rabid dog, pressed against him. Its hot breath sprayed across his face. He gritted his teeth against the pain while cursing Han Xin. He regretted the day he met that ugly bastard.

Despite the excruciating pain he was in, he wouldn’t yield. The pain became unbearable. With a surge of agony, its jaw slackened. Xiang Yu’s palm throbbed, but at what cost?

The wolf stumbled, and Xiang Yu seized the opportunity. He kicked the wolf roughly, sending it flying a few feet before lunging forward with a relentless attack.

Xiang Yu twisted away from the corner that he had been pushed into, narrowly avoiding the wolf’s snapping jaws. But he didn’t manage to get away unscathed. Its claws raked across his back, tearing through fabric and flesh. Pain flared, igniting a fire within him.

His anger surged and an unprecedented

primal force took hold of him. If one looked into his eyes they wouldn’t even be able to tell who was the beast and who wasn’t. His eyes locked onto his injured shoulder blade, blood seeping through the tear in his robe. He spun the blade in his hand and stood in a ready stance blood dripping down the blade of the sword.

The wolf lunged again and he met it with intense fury. Each strike was a battle of wills, steel against fang. His sword found its mark but the wolf that was relentless in its attacks kept getting up.

Xiang Yu’s response was swift but he missed the lightness of a dagger. The sword seemed heavy in his hand but he adapted easily.

He fought back fiercely blood dripping from his wounds, mingling with the dirt and sweat. His vision narrowed and he became a vessel of wrath like a demon straight from hell. The wolf followed, relentless, its eyes glazed with madness. And then, with a final, primal thrust, Xiang Yu drove his sword into the wolf’s heart.

The wolf crumpled, its breath escaping in a ragged sigh. Xiang Yu stood above it his chest heaving, body covered in blood.

His breaths came in ragged bursts as he plunged the blade into the wolf’s lifeless body repeatedly. Each strike was a release, an outlet for the fury that had consumed him.

He was angry because he was injured, he angry that he was feeling like crap all over and he could only endure it. He was also angry that he was stuck in this world with that bastard Han Xin.

The wolf’s matted fur clung to his hands, sticky with blood. His smooth skin was now a canvas of violence, with blood splatter like gruesome art.

His eyes burned with rage his pupils dilated, reflecting the faint light in the darkness. He had lost count of the stabs, lost track of time.

He suddenly felt someone’s presence watching him in the shadows. He glanced over meeting Han Xin’s face half hidden in the dark.

Earlier, Han Xin had heard the sounds of a fierce fight coming within the forest and rose from the steam. He unsheathed his sword and grabbed his robe before disappearing into the forest.

He arrived just at the moment Peng Xiu struck the wolf dead. His breath held as he watched her repeatedly plunge the blade into the lifeless wolf.

Her delicate features framed by her midnight-black hair, could have graced a celestial painting. But her eyes, those eyes, held a darkness that made Han Xin’s brows furrow.

They were not the eyes of a princess, nor even of a warrior. They were the eyes of a predator. A devil in disguise.

The wolf lay sprawled on the ground, its fur matted with blood. Peng Xiu stood over it, her sword dripping crimson. She had slaughtered the creature with ruthless efficiency, striking blow after blow until it lay still. The faint light painted her in shades of red, turning her robes into a gory canvas.

Han Xin had been threatened by her, her blade fiercely pressing against his neck, her movements fluid and deadly. But this was different. This was primal. She was no longer just a princess seeking revenge for her deposed mother. She was a force of nature, a tempest of wrath and bloodlust.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Han Xin forgot to breathe. Surprise flickered across her bloodstained face but it was quickly replaced by a wicked smile.

Xiang Yu hadn’t expected that he had gained an audience. How much that ugly face man had seen was unknown to him. He approached him, his footsteps leaving bloody imprints on the forest floor. The blade in his hand dragged behind him, its edge sharp enough to slice through the very fabric of reality.

"General Han," he called out his voice a velvet whisper. "Did you enjoy the show?"

The light clung to the blade’s blood-streaked hilt as Xiang Yu extended it toward Han Xin. His voice was cool and detached, but his eyes were like dark pools of enigma that were holding a challenge. "I borrowed it as you can see. Can the general return my dagger to me," he said, his words a mere whisper in the night.

Han Xin’s indifference masked a tempest of emotions. Which Peng Xiu stood before him now. The ethereal beauty who wrote him endless letters or the merciless killer who dispatched wolves with savage precision?

He recognised that sword. When he went back to camp he was going to punish Jun De for losing sight of his sword.

Xiang Yu’s sneer cut through the silence. His gaze slid down to the open lapel of Han Xin’s robe, revealing the sinewy muscles beneath. "Now, who is the exhibitionist?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you are trying to seduce me, it will take a little bit more than that."

Xiang Yu wanted to mess with him a little more but he felt sticky all over. He pressed the sword against Han Xin’s chest, blood smearing his skin. Han Xin caught the sword before it fell.

"Did you have to stab it repeatedly?" he asked, unable to hold back the question. "When it was already dead?" He glanced at the lifeless wolf lying on the ground. Did she have to be this vicious?

Her back turned to him, and Peng Xiu’s silhouette seemed menacing. "Well, would the general rather be the one dead?" he asked. "I can make an arrangement."

Han Xin pressed his lips into a thin line as he watched her walk away. Whenever she called him General he felt an unbearable itch at the pit of his stomach. Recalling what she said he suddenly followed after her.

Xiang Yu didn’t care for the tail following behind him. He just felt extremely uncomfortable and wanted to take a plunge into the river. He walked in with his clothes, and the clear water was red with blood. When he emerged from the water he found Han Xin standing at the river bank.

In Han Xin’s eyes, she was like a siren emerging from the water. Her robe clung to her like a second skin, revealing the curves and muscles beneath. Her hair, dark and wet, framed her face, and droplets slid down her cheeks like tears. Han Xin looked away as he said, "Your Highness," but his voice faltered. He wanted to ask her what she meant by it could have been him dead but his eyes narrowed.

Her robe had shifted and his gaze had dropped involuntarily. The wet fabric clung to her chest, revealing more than he expected. His brows furrowed. The two distinct shapes were two potatoes. Yes, as sore as Xiang Yu’s nipples were he still wore his potatoes that would probably sprout after this.