He Really Was a Fucking Immortal

The sun had completely sunk behind the mountains, and at some unknown moment, the moon had quietly leaped onto the treetops.

Night lay deep and dark over the mountain forest,

especially in the woods at the other end of the road leading to the stronghold gates. It was terrifyingly quiet there, without the chirping of insects or the singing of birds, as silent as death itself.

A moonless, windy night for murder,

filled with the oppressive feeling of a mountain storm brewing, its winds already sweeping through the towers.

Suddenly,

a hazy white light shone through the dark mountain forest.

It resembled moonlight, not dazzling, yet radiating a sacred, cold glow.

The bandits standing watch and patrolling the stronghold walls soon noticed the strange sight in the forest across from them. Unfortunately, it was simply too far away, and no matter how wide they opened their eyes, they couldn't make it out clearly.

"What's that?"

"It's glowing. Could it be a firefly?"

"Have you ever seen a firefly that big?"

"Look, that light's getting brighter! It's coming this way."

"There seems to be something in the light. It looks like a person."

"Could it be a mountain spirit or a demon? Quick, go report it to the chief."

"..."

As the white light grew brighter and drew closer, an uproar broke out on the walls. The bandits of Crouching Ox Mountain had never seen anything so bizarre.

But the uproar soon died down, because the chief the bandits had spoken of arrived.

The newcomer was powerfully built, with rugged features, a full beard, and sharp eyes. His bare chest was covered in sword scars and arrow marks, and he exuded a fierce, brutal presence.

"Fuck, I was just about to have my fun with that little woman we snatched up during the day when you bastards called me up here. There had better really be something going on, or I'll twist all your heads off and kick them around like balls."

The bandit chief strode onto the wall, his face twisted with rage and his eyes full of boiling lust with nowhere to vent.

But when his furious gaze followed the direction a bandit was pointing with a trembling finger, the anger on his face was instantly replaced by shock.

"Fuck, what is that?"

He had occupied Crouching Ox Mountain and ruled it as a king for many years. Though he couldn't claim to know every tree and blade of grass on the mountain, he knew it inside and out.

Yet he had never seen anything so strange.

"Boss, could it be a mountain spirit or a ghost?"

"Could it be that we've done so much evil over the years that we've brought the mountain god's punishment down on ourselves?"

"What do we do now? Should we bathe, burn incense, and open the gates to welcome him?"

"..."

The bandits behind him, on tenterhooks and gripped by fear, all spoke up.

Hearing his men, the bandit chief flew into a rage, and the shock vanished from his face at once.

"I'll show you how to bathe and burn incense! I'll show you how to open the gates and welcome him!"

The bandit chief slapped the subordinate who had been spouting nonsense to the ground, then kicked him savagely.

"What bullshit ghosts and mountain spirits? What fucking punishment from the mountain god? On Crouching Ox Mountain, I'm the god! I don't care if he's a man or a ghost—if he dares trespass on our mountain gate, I'll make him die!"

"Loose arrows! What are you all standing around for? Shoot that damned thing dead!"

Under the authority their chief had established over the years, the frightened bandits immediately cast aside their fear. With tense, frantic movements, they nocked arrows to their bows and aimed at the increasingly conspicuous ball of white light.

A sparse volley of arrows flew from the wall. Though most missed, a few lucky shots struck the ball of white light.

But then a sight appeared that terrified the bandits on the wall.

The arrows that struck it did not sink into the other party's body as they had imagined. Instead, they fell to the ground as though they had hit an indestructible rock.

And at last, they saw what the ball of light really was.

It was a person,

a young man wearing a magnificent robe.

They had never seen or heard of the robe's design or style before. It didn't even look like clothing from the mortal world.

That wasn't what shocked them most.

The magnificent, elegant robe gave off a faint white light, ethereal with immortal grace, sacred and untouched by the mortal world. It was as though the young man had draped himself in moonlight.

He simply wasn't human.

What sort of person would weave moonlight into clothes and wear them?

"An immortal... an immortal... He's an immortal!!!!"

"An immortal has descended to the mortal world to take us away!"

"What do we do? What do we do? We're dead!"

"..."

Another uproar broke out on the wall, even more violent than before.

The chief was starting to panic too. He was indeed fierce and brutal, and he had killed people as though cutting down hemp, but he was still only human.

A human's awe of immortals was an instinct carved into the soul.

But he knew he couldn't panic now. If even he panicked, the stronghold would be utterly beyond saving.

"What nonsense are you all spouting? Don't be afraid! That's no immortal. It's all a trick to make him look like a god or a ghost! I've traveled north and south—what haven't I seen? He can't scare me!"

The bearded chief roared, a violent, savage glint surfacing in his eyes.

Under his powerful pressure and imposing presence, the panic and unrest on the wall seemed to be temporarily suppressed.

"Chief, what do we do now?"

"Keep shooting! Loose every arrow you've got! I refuse to believe he's really impervious to blades and spears."

"Huh? We're going to kill an immortal? Won't heaven punish us for that?"

"If you dare spout any more nonsense and undermine our men's resolve, I'll butcher you first."

Only under the chief's stern orders did the bandits tremblingly draw their bows and nock their arrows again.

But unfortunately for them,

the immortal beneath the wall gave them no further chance to loose their arrows.

A broad, scorching streak of crimson Sword Qi trailed burning flames as it sliced through the dark night. Beneath the dumbstruck gazes of everyone on both sides, it slammed into the stronghold gates.

Boom——

The heavy gates, along with the section of wall built from mountain stone and solid timber, collapsed with a thunderous crash as though they were made of paper.

The scene froze in an instant, leaving only a trail of gas in the night, warped by the scorching flames.

The bearded chief looked at the young man standing motionless where he was, then glanced at the broken remnants of the wall burning in the raging flames.

A chill shot from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head.

"He really is a fucking immortal!!!"

Another enormous uproar broke out on the remaining stretch of wall, but this time, no one could suppress or quell it.

These bandits, who had killed people as though cutting down hemp and lost every shred of conscience, were scared out of their souls and shattered out of their wits by that streak of crimson Sword Qi.

They fled madly like stray dogs, some even jumping straight down from the wall, heedless of their broken legs.

This sturdy wall, which had held back the government troops' assault a few years ago and sent them to a crushing defeat with heavy casualties, had now become a cage from which they could not escape even with wings, leaving them no way out.

And this stronghold, which they had occupied for years while committing every sort of evil, was destined tonight to become a slaughterhouse that would bury their bones and be soaked in their blood.