Chapter 81

Jeliang, who was in the carriage, shouted.

"That, that guy! He's coming this way!"

Hunma, who was vigorously whipping the reins from the driver's seat, turned around at his words. Indeed, a black horse and its rider were galloping over, emitting thick black smoke.

He muttered a curse under his breath and grabbed the back of Jeliang's neck, pulling him towards the driver's seat.

"What, what are you doing?"

"Take the reins!"

"Me, me?"

"Or do you want to fight that guy?"

At Hunma's shout, Jeliang took the reins without another word. Having passed the reins to him, Hunma drew his large sword and stood by the side of the carriage where the roof had been blown off. Looking from there, the red face of the demon was particularly noticeable.

"Damn..."

The demon was following them at an incredible speed and had already drawn his bow. Hunma swallowed hard. He guessed that the arrow that had blown off the carriage roof was the same one. Amazingly, the wandering warrior Zhang Jian seemed to be a master, as he had somehow deflected it, but Hunma had no confidence in doing the same.

Still, he couldn't just stand there and die. On the swaying carriage, he tried to maintain his balance and gripped his sword with both hands. He could see Zhang Jian approaching at a terrifying speed, almost as fast as the demon. If he could just hold on for a moment, Zhang Jian would catch up.

Hunma saw the arrow from the demon aiming directly at him and slowly steadied his breathing. Just once, just once, he had to block it. At least he had to save Jeliang. If a decent person survived, he could take care of his family, right? With this thought, he gritted his teeth. He saw the demon's bowstring fully drawn.

In the next moment, the arrow was released.

Hunma instinctively deflected the incoming arrow. This time, instead of shattering the carriage like a cannonball, the arrow made a ting sound and bounced off. Hunma's expression turned puzzled.

"You—! You're not a Zhongyuan person—! How can a child of the earth be a lackey of the Zhongyuan—!"

A shout echoed in Hunma's bewildered mind. For a moment, he was stunned and didn't understand the situation, but soon he gasped and swung his sword.

"Death is the only fate for traitors—!"

Hunma barely dodged the spear thrust that suddenly came at him. However, the force of the thrust alone sent him flying to the corner of the carriage.

"Die—!"

The demon's spear plunged towards Hunma, who was rolling inside the carriage. Hunma quickly rolled to the opposite side to avoid the spear, which then destroyed the already half-ruined carriage. Jeliang, who was holding the reins, turned around at the sound and screamed.

The demon's eyes turned towards Jeliang. At that moment, Jeliang heard the same terrifying scream that Zhang Jian had let out, and his eyes went wide. The demon's spear now aimed at him.

At that moment, Zhang Jian's blade, which seemed to fly, cut into the demon's side.

No red blood spurted out. The demon let out a scream that seemed to tear the ears and then dispersed into black smoke, just as before. Hunma, who had lifted his head, opened his mouth in amazement and couldn't say a word.

At that moment, Zhang Jian shouted.

"Pull yourself together and take care of that gentleman! And don't stop!"

Despite the carriage shaking wildly, his voice rang out clearly, reaching Hunma's ears. Suddenly regaining his senses, Hunma quickly pulled the dazed Jeliang to one side of the carriage and laid him down, then took the reins. The carriage was damaged in many places, but the wheels and axles were still intact.

Zhang Jian slowed down Zhaocao and watched them quickly moving away.

Zhang Jian had also seen Hunma deflect the arrow earlier. He didn't know how the demon's power worked, but he could tell that it became incredibly strong when dealing with Zhongyuan people. Thinking about it, it might have been better for Hunma to face the demon. However, Zhang Jian had no intention of passing the fight to him.

Stopping Zhaocao and watching the carriage move away, Zhang Jian turned his head. He could see the demon standing still at a distance. The black horse and the rider seemed to merge into one due to the smoke.

At that moment, a voice echoed in Zhang Jian's mind.

"…The scent of the earth emanates from your body. The smell of water, soil, and wood. Did you receive the grace of the valley spirit?"

Zhang Jian's eyebrows twitched. The voice he was hearing now was different from the demon's earlier. It was much calmer and more rational. Zhang Jian soon realized it was the voice of the black horse, not the rider.

"You are not a single being. Who are you?"

"I am the plain. I am the dry grass, the sandstorm blown by the wind, and the mother of the slaughtered children."

Zhang Jian's eyes darkened even more at this answer.

"…I heard screams. What happened?"

"Deception, betrayal, and the lies of the Zhongyuan people, bound by evil. My children are all dead, and I have lost my heart. The body without a soul and the soul without a body have merged, and now, all we can do is seek revenge."

"Kill the Zhongyuan people—! Tear them apart—! Rip out their hearts—! Avenge the Zhongyuan people on this land—!"

The red-faced rider raised his spear and shouted. His red face was now not just red but streaming with bright red blood. The thick, sticky substance was blood.

Zhang Jian, looking at him, remained silent and said nothing. He didn't say that not all Zhongyuan people were evil or that there were bad people among both the Zhongyuan and the natives. Such words wouldn't have any effect on a spirit consumed by hatred.

Zhang Jian just silently listened to the cries and screams. He listened to the deep, intense hatred that flowed through his veins and mind.

Meanwhile, the dark clouds in the sky grew darker, and the red blood flowed from the rider's face. The black horse, which had been calmly speaking, now breathed heavily with red eyes. Soon, they both shouted in unison.

"Kill the Zhongyuan people! Kill them! Kill them!"

It seemed that the spirit had only regained its senses for a moment, sensing the aura of the spirit from Zhang Jian.

Zhang Jian, looking at them with deep eyes, slowly raised his sword, which he had lowered, and aimed it at the demon. The demon, as if stabbed by the sword, suddenly stopped shouting. In the next moment, the black horse and the rider let out a tearing scream and charged at Zhang Jian.

Zhang Jian, seeing this, gathered his inner strength. He took a deep breath, recalling the lion's roar of the Shaolin monk Jin Jian from the previous day, and let out a long, low sound. Like an echo in a deep mountain, the huge resonance filled the plain.

When the vibration reached the black horse and the rider, the black smoke surrounding them scattered like a candle in the wind. The black horse, which had been galloping fiercely, stopped with a pained scream, and the rider, who had been screaming, grabbed his head and let out a more human-like cry.

Seizing the moment, Zhang Jian moved Zhaocao and swung his sword. The bright blade swept past the rider's body.

Unlike before, there was a sensation on the blade. When Zhang Jian glanced back, he saw that the rider's side had split open, spewing out black smoke.

Zhaocao, after a smooth turn, headed back towards them. Zhang Jian's blade, filled with inner strength, glowed brightly.

Just before the blade swung again, the red