Chapter 220: Just a Resemblance
Rovel's deduction hit the mark perfectly. Decades ago, he had personally slaughtered the Emperor-class Honkai Beast, Taowu. To prevent the unwary from being warped by its lingering Power of Erosion, he had buried its massive corpse deep beneath this very soil. However, over the years, the Taowu's decaying remains had merged with the earth, seeping into the leylines and causing the ambient concentration of Honkai Energy in the area to spike to unnatural levels.
Meanwhile, the bandit known as Eagle had been driven into the desolate wastes of Mobei by the relentless pursuit of the Imperial Court. Stumbling upon this hidden oasis—a veritable treasure trove overflowing with what martial artists called 'True Qi'—he seized the opportunity. He ruthlessly usurped the original leader of the Golden Sand Gang, claiming the throne for himself. Bathed in such dense True Qi, his martial prowess skyrocketed, breaking through his previous bottlenecks. But power always came with a price. His body was now deeply infected by the very Honkai Energy he mistook for spiritual qi.
"Who the hell are you?" Eagle's grip tightened on his weapon. Seeing this strange young man casually dissect his hidden background with a single glance sent a cold prickle of wariness down his spine.
"That really isn't important," Rovel replied, casually crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm far more curious about how a proud scion of the Luo family of Hedong ended up playing bandit king in a dusty wasteland like this."
Decades ago, the Luo family of Hedong had stood tall as one of the five great martial pillars of Shenzhou. Their prestige had easily rivaled that of the legendary Shao, Hua, Mount Mo, and the Lotus Sect. To see their lineage reduced to leading a ragtag gang of desert thugs was a steep, pathetic fall from grace.
"Heh. The Imperial Court is fatuous, blind, and utterly incompetent," Eagle spat, his lips curling into a sneer. "Why should I bow my head and play the subservient dog to those fools? What's wrong with carving out my own kingdom here? I live like a king, answer to no one, and take what I please."
Hearing Rovel acknowledge his noble origins, Eagle's hostility dialed back a fraction, replaced by a twisted sense of pride.
The Luo family had long since crumbled to dust, their legacy annihilated after backing the wrong horse in the Crown Prince's bloody factional wars. Their seat of power had been swiftly usurped by the rising Five Peaks. Eagle truly hadn't expected anyone to recognize his roots out here in the middle of nowhere.
"I see. A classic tale of political ruin," Rovel nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.
"You still haven't answered my question," Eagle pressed, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the young man's face. "Who exactly are you?"
There was a nagging itch at the back of Eagle's mind. This person looked strangely familiar. Had he seen that face in one of the old Jianghu wanted posters or martial world picture books? He had been just a child back during the Luo family's prime, so his memories of those days were hazy and fragmented. Yet, standing face-to-face with Rovel, a buried memory was violently trying to claw its way to the surface.
"If you can defeat her, I'll tell you." Rovel uncrossed his arms and casually pointed a thumb at Li Sushang.
The young girl blinked, momentarily dazed by the sudden shift in attention. But her confusion quickly melted into a fierce, eager grin. This was exactly what she wanted—a perfect, uninterrupted one-on-one duel with a genuine martial arts master.
"Why the hell should I play by your rules?!" Eagle roared, a vein pulsing at his temple. Rovel's casual, dismissive attitude was infuriating. He was the master of the Golden Sand Gang! This was his territory! Since when did some pretty-faced stranger have the right to dictate terms to him like he was a mere sparring dummy?
Rovel completely ignored the bandit leader's outburst. "Li Sushang," he called out, his tone light and encouraging. "This is the one-on-one duel you've been whining about. Aren't you going to take the chance?"
"Thanks, Senior Brother!" Li Sushang beamed. She drew the heavy, golden blade of the Xuanyuan Sword, running two fingers along its flat edge as a sharp hum connected through the air. "Eagle! Watch my sword!"
With a burst of kinetic energy, she launched herself forward, her footwork light but explosive. Eagle's instincts flared. He could instantly sense the terrifying momentum behind the young girl's strike. Swallowing his pride, he banished all distractions and raised his weapon, channeling his corrupted True Qi to meet her head-on.
Meanwhile, Rovel and Otto retreated to a comfortable distance, sitting on a pair of weathered crates to watch the spectacle unfold.
"Shenzhou... people's... application... of... Honkai Energy... is truly... marvelous," Otto observed, forcing the unfamiliar Shenzhou syllables out of his mouth one slow, deliberate word at a time.
"You pick up the language quite fast," Rovel praised, leaning back. "However, keep in mind that the locals here don't call it Honkai Energy. To them, it's 'True Qi'."
Otto tilted his head, his emerald eyes locking onto Rovel with a mix of curiosity and guarded suspicion. "Why... are you... helping me? And... how did you... know I... was looking for... Red Kite?"
"Again, the 'how' isn't important," Rovel smiled, a cunning glint in his eye. "Here is the reality: I will find the Immortal Red Kite for you. In exchange, you will owe me a favor. How does that deal sound?"
"...Alright." Otto nodded slowly, sealing the verbal pact.
Rovel observed the blonde man quietly. Although the Otto of this era was already beginning his descent into something far colder and less human, his adopted daughter, Vera, was still alive. Because of that tether to humanity, he hadn't yet mutated into the utterly ruthless, calculating monster of the future. He could still be reasoned with.
Back in the center of the courtyard, the clash of metal rang out in rapid succession. As Eagle exchanged blows with Li Sushang, a cold sweat broke out across his back. His alarm grew with every parry. This girl couldn't be more than fifteen years old, yet her foundation in both internal qi circulation and external sword forms was monstrously formidable.
And that golden sword in her hand... it was unnaturally heavy, carrying a crushing force that sent tremors up his arms with every collision.
Clang!
Eagle stumbled back, looking down in horror as a massive crack spiderwebbed across his own blade.
"You're just relying on a superior weapon!" Eagle barked, desperately tossing his ruined, notched blade into the dirt. He pointed a challenging finger at her. "If you really have the skill of a true martial artist, put down that sword and fight me bare-handed!"
It was a painfully obvious provocation, but how could the young, hot-blooded, and fiercely proud Li Sushang ever back down from a challenge?
"Humph! Fine, I'll put it down!" Li Sushang scoffed, her chin tilting up defiantly. "Do you honestly think I'm afraid of a dirty bandit like you?"
With a heavy thud, she drove the tip of the Xuanyuan Sword deep into the hard-packed earth, leaving it standing upright. She then stepped away from the divine weapon, raising her fists in a traditional martial stance.
"Sigh... a classic 'Crouching Dragon' maneuver," Rovel muttered from the sidelines, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.
"Crouching Dragon... doesn't that title... refer to a brilliant tactician?" Otto asked, his brow furrowing. Surprisingly, the blonde foreigner had already absorbed a fair amount of Shenzhou's historical culture. Even he could tell that abandoning a divine weapon in the middle of a life-and-death struggle was a monumentally idiotic decision.
"Normally, yes," Rovel chuckled dryly. "But in certain modern contexts, calling someone a 'Crouching Dragon' is a polite way of saying they share a brain cell with a rock."
"Shenzhou culture... is truly... broad and deep," Otto commented, nodding in solemn understanding.
Back in the fight, even with both combatants stripped of their weapons, Eagle quickly realized he was still hopelessly outmatched. Li Sushang's bare-handed forms were fluid, striking his pressure points with punishing accuracy.
But what Eagle lacked in raw talent, he more than made up for in sheer, insidious cunning.
Deliberately leaving his guard open, he took the full brunt of Li Sushang's palm strike to his chest. Using the kinetic force of her attack, he allowed his body to be launched backward through the air. He twisted like a cat, landing perfectly beside the embedded Xuanyuan Sword.
His hand snapped out, gripping the golden hilt in a reverse hold. He wrenched the divine blade from the earth and leveled it at the stunned girl.
"You despicable coward!" Li Sushang shrieked, her face flushing crimson as she finally realized she had been played. She was practically choking on her own rage.
"Boys, get her!" A cruel, mocking smile curled Eagle's lips as he roared toward the compound gates.
The heavy wooden doors burst open. Over a hundred armed members of the Golden Sand Gang flooded into the courtyard like a swarm of locusts, drawing their sabers and surrounding Li Sushang in an impenetrable ring of steel.
Eagle quickly shot a wary glance toward Rovel and Otto. Seeing that the two men remained seated on their crates, showing absolutely no intention of intervening, he secretly breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
The adrenaline of the fight had finally cleared the fog in his mind. He finally remembered where he had seen Rovel's face before.
The Butcher of the Demonized.
The legendary phantom who had once made every corrupted martial artist in Shenzhou tremble in absolute terror. But wasn't that monster supposed to be dead? Why was he suddenly appearing in Mobei now? And more terrifyingly, looking at his youthful features, he didn't look like a man who had lived through several decades of history. He looked exactly the same as the old legends described.
Eagle's mind raced. If that young man sitting there truly was the Butcher of the Demonized, he needed to drop the sword and run for his life immediately. Such a mythical figure was absolutely not someone a mere bandit chief could withstand, even with a hundred men at his back. As the old saying went: As long as the green hills remain, one need not worry about firewood. Survival was paramount.
But... Eagle forced himself to calm down. He refused to believe this boy was the genuine Butcher of the Demonized who had once terrorized the entire Jianghu.
The logic was simple: Eagle was still breathing.
The rumors were explicit. If the Butcher of the Demonized ever laid eyes on one of the 'mad'—those infected by the demonic True Qi—he would slaughter them on the spot without a shred of mercy. It didn't matter if they were man or woman, young or old, or how mild their infection was. Death was absolute.
Yet, this young man had already seen through Eagle's corrupted state, explicitly pointing out his infected True Qi, and still hadn't lifted a finger to strike him down. There was a glaring discrepancy between this lazy spectator and the bloodthirsty Butcher recorded in the Jianghu myths.
Perhaps it is a coincidence. Perhaps it's just a striking resemblance.
Eagle swallowed hard, desperately comforting himself with that thought as he gripped the stolen Xuanyuan Sword tighter.
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