Beneath the Blade's Edge

The sound of a head hitting the ground was deafening.

The entire Yang Family Fort fell silent in that instant.

Whether they were the Hu warriors swinging their blades in slaughter, or the young men about to be cut down, all stared in disbelief at the helmeted head on the ground.

That face had just charged through the gates alone, hacked down more than ten men, and plunged into a forest of spears like a tiger among sheep. No one had been able to resist that inhuman strength.

But now...

Splat—

Another dull sound rang out as another Hu rider was cleaved in two.

The Hu warriors froze, but the heavy blade raised in the air did not.

After slaying the armored Hu general who had looked the fiercest, the broad, heavy blade did not slow. As it rose and fell, three Hu riders were split in half in the blink of an eye.

The dying screams shattered the earlier silence.

Only this time, those screaming were no longer the young men of Yang Family Fort.

At some point, one of them had already picked up the wooden spear beside his fallen companion and thrust it into the chest of the vicious Hu rider before him.

Then a second man did the same. Then a third.

A fourth, a fifth...

The Hu were indeed fierce. They truly could not defeat the Hu. They had even been routed at the very first clash—but now they knew that the Hu were not impossible to kill. Even that most vicious armored Hu general, that inhuman monster with baleful aura flooding his body, could be killed. His head could be chopped off too.

If they could be killed, then why not kill them?

They were dead either way. At the very least, they had to take an enemy down with them to make it worth it!

"Kill!!"

No one knew who shouted it first.

But soon, more and more people began shouting along.

"Kill!!!"

The young men of Yang Family Fort were killing. The Hu warriors wielding curved sabers and maces were killing as well. At that moment, everyone's eyes had turned bloodshot with slaughter, and all they wanted was to kill every enemy before them as quickly as possible.

And among them, Du Chengfeng killed the fastest.

By personally slaying the armored Hu general, he had indeed unknowingly raised the morale of Yang Family Fort's young men. But at this moment, he truly had no way to maintain any awareness—before delivering that strike, he had already killed several Hu riders in succession. When the blade passed through flesh and blood splashed across it, he had never felt such exhilaration.

And after that strike cleaved down the armored Hu general, an even purer baleful aura surged into his mind.

This was no longer a matter of relying on firm reason to keep the baleful aura from entering his mind. It was a matter of whether his entire body would be burst apart by it on the spot. Icy baleful aura had already flowed through all four limbs and every bone in his body, even overflowing onto the heavy blade.

Something formless and invisible coiled around the blade's edge, around both fresh and dried bloodstains, making the already weighty saber even more terrifying.

And even more deadly.

At this moment, Du Chengfeng could no longer tell whether he was wielding the blade, or the blade was wielding him. The heavy saber in his hand and his entire body had long become one, inseparable from each other. And the method of using this blade—the Butcher's Knife Technique he had practiced in his mind countless times—had at this moment completely imprinted itself upon him.

Only this time, what he was killing was not pigs, but people.

Compared to killing pigs, killing people was far easier.

When pigs saw a blade, they ran. They scurried wildly across the ground. You had to bind them tightly with rope and make sure they could not break free before bringing the blade down to kill them.

But the Hu before him did not possess that kind of wisdom.

They charged at him with blood-red eyes, swinging curved sabers and maces. Du Chengfeng understood—they wanted to kill him. But by closing in too much, they had also entered the heavy blade's range.

He did not even need to chase them himself. He only had to stand where he was, and those Hu warriors would rush right up before him.

And all he needed to do was swing his blade.

Hum—

A blade tempered a thousand times swept across the necks of the Hu warriors before him. The heavy saber seemed incomparably nimble at this moment. It neither chopped nor cut, but slid through the seams between bone.

One sweep passed, leaving only a thin line of blood across their necks.

This was something even the blade's former owner, Fatty Yang—Yang Huchi in his younger days—had been unable to accomplish.

Only Du Chengfeng, who had once become the heavy blade itself and borne the memories of countless killings, could achieve such peerless ease, as though the blade moved through an empty space.

He swung again, and Du Chengfeng felt as though he were walking upon clouds. The dried bloodstains on the heavy blade in his hand gradually blossomed with a strange, vivid brightness.

Could a blade breathe?

Perhaps it could.

For Du Chengfeng could already feel that his breathing rhythm had completely overlapped with that of the heavy blade in his hand.

They were one and the same.

"More... I need more..."

Du Chengfeng muttered as he swung the heavy blade.

Not enough. Far from enough. This was nowhere near enough. He and the blade in his hand still needed to kill more people, to see more blood. This number was not even comparable to the first time he had killed people. There had been far more people in that Prefect's residence than the ones charging at him now.

Too few. Far too few.

And as he swung his blade again and again, fewer and fewer people remained who could stand before him.

It only made Du Chengfeng hungrier.

He was hungry—or perhaps the blade was hungry. Such a small number could not satisfy their appetite at all. They needed more, still more, before they could continue to grow. They needed more blood, more lives, before they could continue onward.

In a daze, Du Chengfeng stepped forward.

This time, people and pigs seemed to be no different. Like unbound pigs, the people in his sight fled in panic, trying to get away from him and the heavy blade he carried—though it did not matter to Du Chengfeng. He knew how to catch them in the fastest way possible. After all, they could not possibly be as fast as four-legged pigs.

But at that moment, Du Chengfeng suddenly saw someone who was not afraid of death standing in his way.

"You are... Carpenter Li?"

Seeing the figure before him clearly, Du Chengfeng could not help but freeze.

"You're not dead?"

"Brother Du! Wake up!"

Though his legs were shaking violently and shit and piss were already running down him, Carpenter Li still gritted his teeth, braced himself on his wooden spear, and stared into Du Chengfeng's eyes.

"Brother Du, with all these wounds on you... you can't keep fighting!"

"Wounds? What wounds do I have? I clearly wasn't hit even once..."

Before he could finish speaking, Du Chengfeng was suddenly overcome by dizziness.

Then his massive body toppled backward into the mountain of corpses beneath his feet.

Thanks to Star Soaring, Floating Coconut, and Following the Feeling for their recommendation votes. Thank you all for your support and encouragement.