The man stared at the gaping hole in his chest, seemingly unable to believe it. But his expression soon turned cold, then settled into a strange indifference.
Zhou You did not bring his sword down. He merely asked, almost casually,
"Go on, then. What's going on? Since when can dead men talk?"
The man from the Gate of Rakshasa fell silent for a few seconds before speaking.
There was none of his earlier panic in his voice, only a snakelike chill.
"...Senior, I suffered a fatal wound. I'm forcing myself to hold on with the Soul-Returning Method, but as you can see, I'm afraid I won't last much longer..."
Zhou You raised an eyebrow.
"Soul-Returning? The backlash from that thing destroys your soul. You won't even make it to the Yin Road. You know that?"
The man answered calmly.
"I know. But I have to get this message out, or the Gate of Rakshasa is finished... Since you were willing to open the door, something I said earlier must have moved you. May I ask your name? The Gate of Rakshasa can swear by our founder's memorial tablet and our future fortune that we will repay you..."
Zhou You saw no reason to hide it. "Zhou You."
Unexpectedly,
the man froze the instant he heard the name.
Then he looked Zhou You over and said slowly,
"The Heaven-Piercing Sword?"
That piqued Zhou You's curiosity.
"...You know me?"
"Not personally. But the First Blade once mentioned you."
"What the hell is the First Blade?"
"He's the foremost among our disciples. Most Gate of Rakshasa disciples have no names. Only the top five of each generation are granted names by our superiors. The one who worked with you before... he's this generation's First Blade."
"...That guy's such a big deal? Never mind.