"What's going on inside?"
"Is he still alive?"
"Let's go in and take a look first."
Outside the ancestral hall that housed the Yang family's ancestral sword, Yang Xuan and Yang Sanlang were anxiously waiting with over ten able-bodied men from the family. These young men were holding brand new spears and halberds, clearly as a precaution.
The ideal situation would be for the person inside to have sharpened the blade before going completely insane. Although losing his mind and becoming a walking corpse might seem cruel, even equivalent to death, for that burly vagrant named Du Chengfeng, it would at least give the Yang Family Fortress a fighting chance against the marauding barbarians.
As for the less ideal scenario... they could only rely on these spears and halberds then.
Even if that vagrant was possessed by Evil Qi and turned into a murderous demon capable of slaughtering the entire Yang Family Fortress, he would still need to raise the sword before he truly started killing — which was the only opportunity for the Yang Family Fortress to avert disaster. After all, no matter how fierce a killer, they remained a creature of flesh and blood.
Ultimately, flesh and blood are fragile. As long as the body is pierced and bleeds profusely, it will be immobilized and die on the spot.
Just like slaughtering pigs and sheep.
So how are things inside exactly? Is the sword sharpened? What has become of the vagrant sent in?
"...Can't wait any longer! Open the door!"
Seeing no movement from the ancestral hall, the anxious Yang Sanlang strode forward and pushed open the hall doors.
It was at this moment that Du Chengfeng opened his eyes.
Their eyes met.
Yang Sanlang instantly averted his gaze.
As a prominent figure among the younger generation of Yang Family Fortress, Yang Sanlang should not have acted this way. Not to mention a mere vagrant, even when facing his own clan uncles, this leopard-headed, ring-eyed man dared to glare and stand his ground.
But at this moment, Yang Sanlang didn't dare to look into the vagrant's eyes.
At the moment he was caught by that cold stare, Yang Sanlang was chilled to the bone. It wasn't a human gaze; that look didn't even regard him as a human being.
Under that gaze, Yang Sanlang felt as if he was a bound and trussed pig about to be slaughtered.
The late-night conversations he had with his clan uncle flashed again through his mind, leaving Yang Sanlang in a daze.
No wonder his clan uncle repeatedly stopped him and forbade him from touching the sword. So, Evil Qi entering the body was this terrifying.
Was the figure before him a god? A demon? Or something even stranger?
"Who exactly are you?"
"I'm just a human."
Regaining his senses, Du Chengfeng instinctively replied.
"I'm just a human, can't you see... huh?"
Focusing his gaze, Du Chengfeng finally saw who had just spoken.
Distant memories surged from his mind, and Du Chengfeng vaguely remembered the past — yes, back then, he wasn't yet a blade but just a vagrant seeking a livelihood at Yang Family Fortress. Yet it was this man named Yang Sanlang, who deliberately selected him, knowing full well the sword was wrapped in Evil Qi and that an ordinary person would go insane upon touching it, pushed him to grind the sword!
At this moment, enemies met, and their eyes were blazing red!
"The sword... the sword!"
Clenching his fists, Du Chengfeng realized that he still held the great sword in his grip.
With a weapon in hand, the intent to kill arose.
The cold Evil Qi surged along his arms, and today he intended to slaughter not only the inside and outside of this ancestral hall but the entire Yang Family Fortress!
"Hey!"
With a loud shout, Du Chengfeng swung the great sword, and the repeated scenes of butchering pigs imprinted on his body came alive. With a swing of the sword, to kill a man was like killing a pig!
But at that very moment, a pair of feeble, old hands held his sword-wielding arms firmly aloft.
"Do it! Quickly!"
The elderly and frail Yang Xuan, from somewhere, found the strength to hold up Du Chengfeng's descending blade mid-air!
"Don't worry about me! Hurry! If he strikes, the whole Yang Family Fortress will perish!"
"Uncle, you..."
Hearing Yang Xuan's shout, Yang Sanlang, already frightened by the sword strike, couldn't speak for a moment.
Though the most rational action would be to have the young men in the family thrust their spears and pierce the sword-wielding vagabond along with his own clan uncle, that man was still his uncle, his kindred elder, someone who had watched him grow from a child and cared for him in countless ways. How could he be ruthless enough to give such a cruel command?
But as Yang Sanlang hesitated, Du Chengfeng felt no such reluctance.
The cold Evil Qi surged into his head, and he seemed to return to that time when he was the great sword, cutting through flesh and tearing open bodies. As a sharp sword, that was his mission, and it was the thing that gave him the most pleasure.
However, just as Du Chengfeng retracted his gaze, ready to first kill the person before him, his pupils suddenly contracted.
The reason was simple: the old man before him, he recognized.
It wasn't when he was a refugee, but when he was a broadsword. As the family heirloom of the Yang clan, after Fat Yang died, Du Chengfeng watched the Yang clan grow up. Although most of the time, as an ancestral relic, he was always placed in the ancestral hall and hardly allowed to be touched, there were always some unlucky kids who wouldn't heed advice and sneaked into the hall to touch him and absorb some of the ancestor's lingering glory.
Regarding these touches, Du Chengfeng always let them be. One reason was that as a broadsword, he had no means to refuse, and another was because of loneliness. Having people come to talk and joke with him was some enjoyment in the otherwise dull life of being placed on a table.
The old man in front of him was also one of those unruly kids in his youth.
This old man named Yang Xuan, Du Chengfeng also watched him grow up. From stealing ancestor offerings as a child, complaining about the hardships of studying in his youth, to taking over the Yang clan in middle age and lamenting life's difficulties at the ancestral hall, and now in old age, sighing every day about not maintaining the Yang clan well... Similar acts were done by the old man's father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, which made Du Chengfeng, who was placed on the offering table, feel as if a lifetime had passed.
And now this younger generation, practically an unknown number of descendant generations that he watched grow up, stood blocking his way.
The bone-chilling Evil Qi made Du Chengfeng's blood surge, and his broadsword in hand thirsted for blood.
But to kill?
"You..."
Looking at Yang Xuan, Du Chengfeng suddenly thought of Fat Yang.
Though one was thin, the other fat; one was old, the other robust, their eyes, those looks in the eyes, had now overlapped.
And at that moment of eye contact, Yang Xuan's eyes also lit up.
"Wait! Don't act first!"
The old Yang Xuan instinctively shouted out.
"Don't act! It's not the Evil Qi entering the body! Don't act!"
While ordering the clan juniors behind him, Yang Xuan kept his eyes firmly on Du Chengfeng.
He was sure he wasn't mistaken. The eyes of the refugee before him, almost entirely blood-red earlier, had regained clear rationality!
With ancestral blessings, this time the Yang clan not only avoided a great calamity but actually drew an excellent lot!
"Mighty warrior!"
Overjoyed, Yang Xuan hurriedly attempted to lower Du Chengfeng's sword-holding hands.
"Never imagined a warrior with such unique talent; even the Evil Qi of warfare is like a breeze to you, insignificant. This is simply... uh."
Yang Xuan's voice froze.
The sword-holding hands remained suspended, showing no intention of lowering.
"Speak, why aren't you continuing?"
Seeing the old man's flattering yet somewhat awkward expression, Du Chengfeng squinted his eyes.
"Continue talking, say a few more nice words, or have you already realized the good deeds your nephew Yang Sanlang did?"
Saying this, Du Chengfeng suddenly grabbed Yang Xuan by the collar.
"Good old rascal, your nephew Yang Sanlang tricked me into sharpening the sword, trying to kill me, and you want to shrug off the matter with a few words? Who do you take me for?"
"I I I I..."
The already frail Yang Xuan was almost lifted off the ground, stammering in front of this furious refugee, failing to utter a complete sentence.
At this moment, gazing at the refugee wielding the broadsword, Yang Xuan suddenly felt as though he were facing his ancestor from the family records, who fought across battlefields, killing countless enemies!
"Release my clan uncle!"
As Yang Xuan was captured, Yang Sanlang hurriedly picked up a spear and charged in.
But with just a glance from Du Chengfeng, Yang Sanlang was already scared, collapsing to the ground.
If earlier Du Chengfeng's killing intent was due to the Evil Qi of the weapon, now he genuinely harbored fatal intent. As a broadsword, since Fat Yang's blood was shed at the Inspectorate, he had claimed hundreds of lives. Now knowing he was framed, nearly killed, how could he not retaliate?
"Mighty warrior, wait!"
Seeing Du Chengfeng about to swing down the broadsword, Yang Xuan hurriedly intervened again.
But facing Du Chengfeng's gaze, Yang Xuan stammered once more—after all, the Yang family was wrong first. Who would've thought a trap for a refugee would bring a dragon unfazed by the Evil Qi of weapons?
Looking at the foe's unity with the sword, it's likely too late to say anything now. The ten or so clan juniors behind him might not fend off that broadsword even if tied together. Their ancestor followed the Grand Ancestor Emperor east and west as a leading general, slaying countless enemies with a single sword; killing some unskilled youth is easier than slaughtering chickens.
"Mighty warrior, let's talk this through—the Yang clan was indeed at fault in hospitality. Whatever compensation afterward is due, but now with a major enemy impending, should we first unite against the Hu forces?"
"Hmm?"
Du Chengfeng's brows furrowed.
In distant memories, there seemed to be this matter, then he was also handed a wooden spear, almost dragged to the frontlines...
"Thud thud thud thud—"
While Du Chengfeng was indulging in memories, outside the Dock Fortress, a chorus of hoofbeats erupted!
The chaotic hoofbeats shook the ground, sounding like thunder!