Chapter 73: Killing

"This is impossible! Absolutely impossible! How could he still be alive?!"

Yuan Er couldn't help but shout as he watched the figure emerge from the water before him.

No one had ever escaped from the River God before, yet this person had.

He recognized the man; it was the red-robed Taoist priest who had caused the deaths of dozens of his brothers!

Before anyone could fully grasp what was happening, he saw the strange Taoist priest slowly raise his head. With each step, a bloody footprint appeared, as the priest walked directly towards them.

"Kill him! Quick, kill him! Don't let him ring his bell!" Yuan Er's voice was tinged with panic.

Though there was only one opponent against several hundred of their own men, Yuan Er inexplicably felt an urge to turn and flee.

Arrows whizzed through the air, dozens of them glinting menacingly as they flew towards the Taoist priest, yet none struck him.

With a ripping sound, a man's body was brutally torn apart by Li Huowang right before everyone's eyes.

The river bandits initially tried to encircle him, but soon, the increasingly gruesome spectacle chilled their blood.

The scene, comparable to the eighteen layers of hell, slowly replaced the anger and hatred in everyone's eyes with fear.

Finally, they could bear it no longer. Their legs trembling, they began to flee for their lives.

Even Yuan Er's commands couldn't make them stop; they were utterly terrified.

Once they completely lost the will to resist and turned their backs on Li Huowang, a blatant massacre unfolded on the reed island.

"Great-grandpa, great-grandpa, quick, think of something!" Yuan Er cried out, completely distraught after seeing his own brother torn apart.

Only then did he realize what a terrifying entity he had provoked.

The previously dignified elder was now flustered. With trembling hands pressed together, he whispered something to the dark red lake water beside them.

The whispering didn't last long. When he saw a mass of flesh the size of a large boat float up from the lakebed, the old man's vision swam, and he nearly collapsed backwards.

That was the River God, whom their ancestors had worshipped for generations, and it had been killed by that Taoist priest!

Yuan Er's heart jolted at the sight. Without a word, he hoisted his great-grandpa onto his back and sprinted towards the stockade.

Ignoring the screams and wails behind him, Yuan Er gritted his teeth and fled rapidly.

Li Huowang watched Dan Yangzi slowly kill the river bandits one by one in the distance. With each death, the red haze before his eyes intensified, until eventually, it was so crimson he could no longer see the path.

At first, Li Huowang didn't want to interfere, but when he saw Dan Yangzi seize another person, he finally couldn't hold back.

"Don't kill them, stop killing!"

Amidst Li Huowang's shouts, Dan Yangzi, who had grabbed the person with the red mark on their forehead, slowly turned around, a cruel smile spreading across his blood-red face. "Child... why not?"

Li Huowang opened his mouth to speak, but then he turned to look at the completely darkened lake. Remembering his companions whose fates were unknown, he suddenly found himself unable to conjure any reason to object.

The agony in his heart almost instantly consumed him. Clasping his throbbing head, he screamed, "Why! Why can they kill our people, but I can't kill them?"

When he came to his senses, Dan Yangzi was gone, and Li Huowang found himself in Dan Yangzi's place.

Before him now stood a heavyset woman.

Tear-streaked, she was clutching a man whose head was half-caved in, weeping uncontrollably. It seemed he was her husband.

"Kill her! Either don't kill at all, or kill the whole family!" A voice boomed in his ear from nowhere.

With his eye twitching uncontrollably, Li Huowang gripped the hilt of the sword at his neck and slowly drew it.

Then, with a powerful swing, a white arc flashed, and the tragic weeping abruptly ceased.

The moment he acted, Li Huowang felt a peculiar sensation surge from his spine straight to the back of his head.

This intoxicating sensation dispersed the despair and pain in his heart.

"Heh, heh." Unable to suppress the wild grin on his face, Li Huowang tightened his grip on the sword and walked step by step towards the reed stockade.

Before long, a bloody storm erupted within the stockade.

Watching various faces easily torn apart, watching vibrant lives wither, Li Huowang laughed. The more people he killed, the louder he laughed, an uncontrollable, booming sound.

The sounds of blades entering flesh echoed continuously, and the dull yellow reed island gradually became covered in red.

As night completely fell, the screams across the entire island gradually faded.

Inside the Yuan family's ancestral hall, Li Huowang, covered in blood and carrying his blood-stained sword, slowly approached a scrawny boy.

There was no sound from anywhere else; this boy was likely the last person on the island.

Facing the blood-soaked figure, a mass murderer before him, the boy had completely broken down in terror. His hands flailed wildly, urine staining his clothes, as he babbled incoherently.

Just as Li Huowang slowly raised the long sword in his hand, a familiar voice came from behind him.

When he numbly turned around, he saw Bai Lingmiao, soaked to the bone, standing by the doorway, clutching a glowing stone and trembling.

The moment he saw her, the murderous intent in his heart and that strange sensation in the back of his head receded like a tide. "You're not dead?"

The moment he spoke, Li Huowang realized his voice had changed; his usually clear voice was now extremely hoarse.

The sword wound on his neck had, fortunately yet unfortunately, damaged his vocal cords.

"I can swim. There's a pond in front of my village, and I've been playing in the water there since I was little."

Li Huowang walked over, still holding his sword, took off his Taoist robe—which was covered in dried blood—and draped it over Bai Lingmiao.

At that moment, Li Huowang seemed to come to his senses, gazing blankly at everything around him, at the corpses with their varied death poses.

Regardless of age or gender, everyone was dead, all killed by his own hands.

Seeing the deceased girl still clinging to her mother, and the lifeless cradle nearby, the self-reproach and pain that had momentarily vanished surged back, pressing down on him until he could barely breathe.

Li Huowang slowly bent down, picked up a dagger from the ground, gritted his teeth, and plunged it fiercely into his palm.

He had never understood why Sister Hu from the mental hospital next door had self-harmed; now, he understood.