Chapter 1192: Natural Talent

"Father was right," he said. "He was too weak and never possessed the spirit of a true man."

He Lingchuan poured cold water on his hopes: "You still can't defeat the Yao Kingdom with just the Rakshasa Armor."

"The Golden Plains need a great hero, but unfortunately, I am not one," Axun murmured wistfully, as black ash rose from his body with each gust of wind. "Unfortunately, I am not."

"You single-handedly sealed the Rakshasa Armor for 165 years, averting countless disasters and saving countless lives." He Lingchuan squatted to look him in the eye. "A hero is judged by their deeds, not their intentions. You have done more than enough and are worthy of the Golden Plains."

The Golden Plains had seen many heroes rise and fall, but they were merely transients. After they left, the Golden Plains remained largely unchanged, still the same Golden Plains.

Axun, however, was different. This man, who seemed less than strong and somewhat indecisive, had quietly protected it in his own way for over 160 years.

Fu Liushan also said, "When the Ying people first arrived in the new world, they erected a memorial tablet for you, and generations have worshipped you ever since, right up to today. The spirit you passed on became their motivation to brave storms, overcome challenges, and forge ahead."

"Is that so? My people truly are exceptional." Axun smiled at He Lingchuan. "You are much stronger than I am, and therefore, you must bear more responsibility. You are the bane of the Rakshasa Armor; it fears you, yet you possess something it deeply craves."

He still retained some memories from the battle and knew the Rakshasa Armor's desperate craving.

Upon hearing this, Fu Liushan looked at He Lingchuan with a strange gaze.

The bane?

The Rakshasa Armor has a bane?

He Lingchuan nodded, knowing he was referring to the heart scale. "I want to know how the Rakshasa Armor controlled you."

This secret, aside from Axun, was likely known to no one else in the current world.

"Fear!" Axun declared, describing his personal experience. "It finds the deepest fear in your heart and then uses it to overwhelm you!"

So it was fear, He Lingchuan mused thoughtfully.

"I can no longer seal the Rakshasa Armor. From now on, it's up to you. I don't know what you'll do, but I hope you succeed. The Golden Plains shouldn't suffer any more." Axun sighed softly as his body completely carbonized. "I also give you the Folding-Thrusting Blade; please find it a good master."

His smile finally solidified into an expression of relief. Then, with a gust of wind, he turned to ash.

A faint sigh echoed around them, barely audible: "If only I could see Mengmeng one last time..."

A century had passed in the blink of an eye; his beloved wife and young child were but mist and smoke.

They had missed each other, never to meet again in this life.

This was the price of heroism.

Axun, along with the past of the Ying people, finally drifted away with the wind.

The three stood rooted to the spot, silent for a long while.

It was Fu Liushan who first sighed. "He's finally free."

The corners of his eyes were a little red.

"Thank you for the stories you told us in the tavern," He Lingchuan said, smiling at him. "They were very helpful."

A few nights earlier, during a rainy night, the three had gathered around a table. Fu Liushan, drinking the wine offered by He Lingchuan, had recounted a series of stories concerning the Rakshasa Armor.

The most regrettable story was that of Bao Ning.

The most moving, and the final story, was about the Ying clan father and son:

One hundred and seventy years ago, to free his people from hardship, tribal chief Fu Xiong successfully obtained the Rakshasa Armor from Jing Mountain. However, he unexpectedly fell under the control of the evil armor, becoming the source of even greater calamities.

As the story progressed to this point, it seemed to be repeating the cycle of old, as the Rakshasa Armor invariably brought disaster whenever it appeared.

But this time was different:

At a critical moment, the chief's son, Fu Tianlin, stepped forward, took the evil armor from his father, and sealed himself within Keli Mountain.

The Ying people thus escaped a great catastrophe.

Chief Fu Xiong regained consciousness, filled with remorse. Following his son's dying wish, he sold the clan's assets and led the Ying people to set sail from Julu Port, migrating to a new world—which is now part of the Qing Kingdom's territory—thereby escaping the forsaken lands forever.

Over the past hundred-plus years, many desperate individuals had come to Keli Mountain hoping for a chance. Yet, no matter what summoning rituals they performed, the Rakshasa Armor remained unresponsive.

Besides the sealing formation maintained by generations of the Fu family, the most crucial factor was the imperial bloodline, specifically Fu Tianlin's vital contribution in forcibly suppressing it.

The Rakshasa Armor had thus slept for over 160 years, until—

Until He Lingchuan arrived!

With the black ash gone, all that remained on the ground were a dark armored suit and the Folding-Thrusting Blade.

He Lingchuan first picked up the Folding-Thrusting Blade. The right blade was broken in the middle, but Songyang Manor should be able to repair it.

He glanced at Fu Liushan, then waved his hand decisively. "It's yours."

He respected Fu Tianlin's last wish.

Besides, he couldn't use such an unusually shaped weapon.

"Even without the Rakshasa Armor, Axun was a formidable warrior," He Lingchuan said, stroking the blade. "I will find a good new master for you."

Both Fu Xiong and Fu Tianlin possessed daunting combat power, which was why the Yao Kingdom was so intent on subjugating them for their own use.

This level of combat power was, in a sense, also the root of the Ying clan's suffering.

Dong Rui stroked his chin. "How did it seem like you could handle the Folding-Thrusting Blade with ease right from the start of the battle?"

An unusually shaped blade like that would surely catch anyone off guard during their first encounter, wouldn't it?

How did this kid fight so calmly? Had he seen it before?

Fu Liushan hadn't witnessed the exact combat process but nodded in agreement from the side.

Someone who could defeat both the Rakshasa Armor and the Folding-Thrusting Blade was certainly no ordinary person.

He Lingchuan stood with his hands behind his back and smiled faintly. "That's what you call innate talent."

He had encountered Axun and seen the Folding-Thrusting Blade in the Dragon Coil world.

At that time, when he went up White Hair Mountain to retrieve the Bright Lantern, Axun, disguised as Fu Tianlin, had fought him but couldn't take it.

This was, of course, a simulation by the Grand Flask, but it allowed him to understand Axun's fighting style, preventing him from being flustered during this secret battle in Keli Mountain.

In the tavern on that rainy night, as soon as Fu Liushan mentioned Fu Tianlin, He Lingchuan knew who he was.

But what He Lingchuan was curious about was who had actually retrieved the Bright Lantern in real history.

Certainly not him, as he didn't exist 165 years ago in real history.

Who did Dragon Coil City send at that time? This question was probably destined to remain unanswered.

He was only certain of one thing:

Whether in the Dragon Coil world or in real history, Axun had never obtained the Bright Lantern.

Now, the three stood in a row again, looking down at the dark armor on the ground.

This was the renowned Rakshasa Armor.

Even after a century underground, it showed no signs of rust.

In the dim light, a certain power seemed to flow across its plates, inspiring awe.

The wounds it sustained earlier when Axun wore it to fight the Yao army and He Lingchuan, whether deep or shallow, had either faded or disappeared.

This armor possessed powerful self-healing abilities.

"The bane of the Rakshasa Armor?" Fu Liushan was conflicted. As the guardian of the Keli Mountain seal, he shouldn't, by rights, just stand by and watch someone take this evil armor. Yet, Fu Tianlin himself had just affirmed that He Lingchuan was its bane.

Axun had fought the Rakshasa Armor for over 160 years; he knew it best and had the most authority on the matter.

So, what should he do? "You came here specifically for it, didn't you?"

"Of course." Could He Lingchuan deny it?

"I can't stop you from taking this armor." Given He Lingchuan's demonstrated combat prowess, Fu Liushan knew he couldn't win. He looked at He Lingchuan, then at the Rakshasa Armor on the ground. "But you also heard Fu Tianlin say that all humans have fear, and that fear can be exploited by the Rakshasa Armor. How will you control it?"

Dong Rui retorted, unconvinced, "Someone managed it before, didn't the founding ancestor of the Golden Empire live to a ripe old age?"

"That was over a thousand years ago. The more fear and suffering the Rakshasa Armor absorbs, the more powerful it becomes. You know as well as I do that the Golden Plains lacks many things, but not those two." Evil armor also evolves, right? "Even if that founding ancestor were here now, he might not be able to suppress it."

Dong Rui immediately looked at He Lingchuan. Before he could speak, He Lingchuan asked him, "Do you want to try?"

"No, no." It was wise to know oneself; he couldn't resist temptation, and he would likely find it difficult to resist fear either.

He Lingchuan took another step closer to the evil armor, and it actually clanged, clearly excited. If it weren't for its inability to stand on its own, it would probably have lunged at He Lingchuan by now.

The other two instantly understood that Fu Tianlin was right; He Lingchuan possessed something the armor craved.

Dong Rui exclaimed, "What treasure are you hiding?"

He Lingchuan had a theory but shook his head. "I can't give it to it."

"Then what will you do with it?" Dong Rui coughed lightly. "You're not thinking of putting it on, are you?"

"No." He Lingchuan answered succinctly. He swept a hand across his chest, then leaned down and pressed it onto the Rakshasa Armor.

His expression was casual, and his movement was too fast. Before Fu Liushan could react, the Rakshasa Armor had already rushed forward with a swoosh to meet him.

The treasure, the treasure it craved!

"Don't..." Fu Liushan hadn't finished his sentence when he heard a crisp metallic clang. The Rakshasa Armor on the ground suddenly disintegrated on its own, breaking into countless plates!

Each plate frantically tried to burrow into the ground.

This sudden turn of events stunned both the two men and two monkeys beside them.

Just a second ago, this evil armor had practically yearned to leap onto He Lingchuan; now, why was it desperate to escape?

And its posture was like a field mouse trying to flee from the clutches of a raptor; every single plate evinced a desperate effort.

He Lingchuan's palm was like a wind tunnel, producing a whooshing sound as it attempted to suck in the evil armor.

Strangely, neither Dong Rui nor Fu Liushan, who stood nearby, had a single strand of hair lifted.

Yet, both of them distinctly heard the sound of strong winds sweeping over the Rakshasa Armor, like unwilling and mournful roars.

The first plate couldn't resist and was sucked into He Lingchuan's palm, then the second, the third...

Fu Liushan couldn't hold back and wanted to lean down to see what was happening with He Lingchuan's palm. Unexpectedly, the wind force suddenly intensified, and with a whoosh, all the remaining plates were sucked in.

He didn't need to look up; He Lingchuan simply opened his palm towards him—

His palm was empty, containing nothing.

Where was the wind tunnel? Where was the magical artifact?

His fingers were bare; he wasn't even wearing a storage ring.

Fu Liushan's jaw nearly dropped to the ground, and he even forgot to get back on his feet. "You, what did you do?"