An Illusion Cultivator?
Listening to the bandits' conversation, the remaining villagers had no idea what they were talking about.
If there really had been a cultivator in the village, they would never have been slaughtered until only a handful of women remained.
Since his back was to them, they could not see King Yama's face.
But his feet hovered above the ground, and a terrifying aura unlike that of any ordinary person surrounded him.
Even the bandits, steeped in evil as they were, fell countless levels short of him.
They were certain he could not be anyone ordinary!
"Does anyone know him?" a woman holding a sickle asked timidly.
"No."
"N-no, I've never seen him."
Everyone shook their heads.
They did not think they were worthy of knowing someone like him.
To them, cultivators were even further beyond their reach than princes and nobles.
After hearing their exchange, the bandit chief paid it no mind.
He simply assumed some Illusion Cultivator had chosen to cultivate here in seclusion for whatever reason.
Then this sudden incident had forced him to step forward and repay the villagers for taking him in.
He could think of plenty of similar explanations.
The man's identity did not matter. Whoever he was, if he dared oppose the Evil Dragon Stockade, he had to die!
He raised his silver-ringed saber, pointing its sharp edge straight at King Yama, while tightening the reins with his other hand to keep his horse under control.
Then he said, "Stop hiding like a rat! Come out if you've got the guts! Illusions can fool people for a while, but not forever."
King Yama could not understand what the bandit meant, nor did he care to.
Since the man wanted to be the bird that stuck its head out, that was