Chapter Eighty-Six: Witnessing the World's Turmoil, Beholding the Chaos of Murder

Why is there so much killing? The world is in chaos.

Once the Evil Blade Immortal issued his command, his subordinates were eager to carry out this task, which was hardly a challenge for them. A burly man with a thick beard, carrying a chopper on his shoulder, slowly walked toward Han Mo Yi. His face twisted into a savage grin, as if hoping to glimpse some emotion on Han Mo Yi's face. Yet Han Mo Yi remained calm and indifferent, which stirred a nameless rage in the bearded man's chest.

As soon as he approached, before Han Mo Yi could even draw his blade, a flash of steel darted before his eyes—the bearded man's knife had already plunged into Han Mo Yi's abdomen. Han Mo Yi, somewhat slow to react, looked down; sure enough, the knife was buried deep, but not a drop of blood flowed from his body.

With a swift motion, the bearded man yanked out the blade. Han Mo Yi watched as the wound on his belly healed in moments. He was unharmed, as though the bearded man's knife had never pierced him at all.

"Hey, Big Beard Wang! Aren’t you always bragging about your lightning-fast knife, second only to the boss? What’s wrong now? Did crawling into a woman’s bed leave your hands soft?" A bald bandit put down his wine and mocked the bearded man mercilessly.

The bearded man rubbed his eyes, then looked again at the unscathed Han Mo Yi, beginning to wonder if he had drunk too much.

Soon, the bearded man raised his knife once more and slashed at Han Mo Yi. This time, Han Mo Yi tried to block, but in an instant, the blade stabbed into his abdomen again. Unlike before, the bearded man didn't rush to pull it out.

Han Mo Yi felt a sharp pain in his gut, but almost immediately, an inexplicable force within him smothered the agony.

Eventually, the bearded man withdrew the blade, and as before, not a drop of blood spilled. The wound healed visibly, almost as if the blade had never touched him.

This time, the bandits took notice of the strange scene. They gazed at Han Mo Yi as though he were a monster, their hands trembling on their knives. Even the Evil Blade Immortal eyed Han Mo Yi warily.

At last, the Evil Blade Immortal roared in rage, "Damn it! I refuse to believe you can't die!"

He drew his blade and thrust it into Han Mo Yi's heart in one seamless motion, but Han Mo Yi remained entirely unharmed.

The bearded man was the first to crack under pressure, collapsing to his knees, his body shaking like a sieve. He murmured desperately, "He’s not human, he’s not human! Don’t kill me, don’t kill me!"

"Courting death!" The Evil Blade Immortal snarled, and with a swift backhand stroke, severed the bearded man's head.

"Don’t be afraid. We'll burn him alive," the Evil Blade Immortal said with a venomous glare at Han Mo Yi.

"That's right, even monsters can be burned to death," the group of bandit lackeys echoed, grasping at the suggestion like drowning men clutching at straws.

The Evil Blade Immortal kicked aside a few trembling, seductive women at his side. At this moment, any thought of pleasure had vanished from his mind. The women who once seemed alluring now only irritated him. He even felt the urge to draw his blade, but seeing Han Mo Yi’s cold, indifferent expression, he suppressed the impulse.

Along with it, he suppressed a faint, lurking fear within.

"Baldy, go tie him up," the Evil Blade Immortal ordered a nearby lackey.

The bald one, who had earlier mocked the bearded man, now looked as miserable as if he’d swallowed a fly. With the dead bearded man bleeding at his feet, and the lesson clear, he dared not risk incurring the boss’s wrath. Han Mo Yi was certainly strange, but not so terrifying as to warrant immediate death.

He gritted his teeth, drained the wine on the table, and, steeling himself, walked toward Han Mo Yi.

Han Mo Yi merely let out a cold laugh as Baldy approached, then raised his own blade. The technique he had learned from the bodyguard was a mere facade, a way to pass the time; it was nowhere near the skills of a bandit who had spent years living on the edge of danger.

Without question, as soon as Han Mo Yi lifted his knife, Baldy kicked him cleanly to the ground. The strange blade fell aside, and the surrounding bandits swarmed in, tying him securely.

At Cangying Fort, firewood was always prepared. In no time, the bandits built a pyre.

The Evil Blade Immortal looked at Han Mo Yi as though he were a venomous snake. "Boy, are you truly unafraid of death?"

Han Mo Yi said nothing, only casting a contemptuous glance at him.

"What a pity. You must hate me, right? Your delicate woman is quite the prize, and your parents weren’t as tough as you—ha ha ha!" The Evil Blade Immortal laughed brazenly, as if Han Mo Yi were already nothing more than a charred corpse.

Han Mo Yi’s eyes burned with fury. He remembered his parents’ tragic deaths, and the pitiable Fang Wanru.

"Toss him up," the Evil Blade Immortal ordered, clearly enjoying Han Mo Yi’s anger. With a wave of his hand, his men immediately threw Han Mo Yi onto the pile.

These bandits from Cangying Fort were ruthless. Seeing Han Mo Yi like a lamb awaiting slaughter emboldened them. Baldy, now humiliated and angry, slapped Han Mo Yi twice, then heaved him onto the firewood.

Bound tightly, Han Mo Yi could only pin his hopes on the strange blade.

But to his disappointment, even as Baldy sneered and lit the pyre, the blade remained inert.

Smoke rose first, then flames burst forth. Han Mo Yi felt the searing heat and closed his eyes. In that moment, he saw Sanqi Town buried by yellow sand, his parents’ gruesome deaths, Fang Wanru, and finally the man in the Daoist robe and black gown.

The man’s lips moved as if speaking, and after a long moment, Han Mo Yi finally understood his words.

He was saying, "Han Mo Yi, you cannot die!"

In the main hall of Cangying Fort, the bandits were once again eating meat and drinking, the seductive women clinging ceaselessly to the Evil Blade Immortal, oblivious to the ugliness that had just occurred.

The Evil Blade Immortal’s face was cold and grim as he repeatedly glanced toward the door. The women, sensing his mood, withdrew a little, and the bandits lost interest. The fort became unusually quiet.

After two hours or so, the Evil Blade Immortal finally moved.

"That should be enough," he muttered to himself, rising and heading for the place where Han Mo Yi had been burned.

The pyre still smoldered, though the flames were nearly out. The heap was hard to see clearly, but Han Mo Yi was nowhere in sight.

"Don't worry, boss. That kid is surely dead," Baldy, noticing the Evil Blade Immortal’s concern, seized the moment to flatter him.

The Evil Blade Immortal shot Baldy a cold look. Realizing he had spoken out of turn, Baldy slapped himself twice.

Fortunately, the boss was preoccupied with other matters, and Baldy escaped punishment.

With the fire burned out and no sign of Han Mo Yi in the ashes, the Evil Blade Immortal secretly breathed a sigh of relief, a rare smile crossing his grim face.

"Looks like he burned to death," everyone echoed the boss's relief.

Yet almost instantly, the Evil Blade Immortal’s smile seemed frozen on his face. Before the horrified eyes of all, something began to rise from the ashes—a person.

"I told you, I came to kill you." Standing in the ash was Han Mo Yi. His clothes had been burned to cinders, but his hair was untouched. Ash clung to his body, his exposed skin as red as flames, but soon returned to normal.

"Go! Kill him!" This time, the Evil Blade Immortal could no longer suppress his fear, and shouted with all his might.