Volume One: The Wild Child Chapter Nine: As If the World Had Just Awakened

The fiends of the Underworld surged toward the old man soaring skyward, crashing one after another into the flames surrounding him and being reduced to ashes, yet still they came, reckless as moths drawn to fire, fighting for their lives. Countless souls perished upon the old man's spell formation, but the number of demons not only failed to decrease, it seemed to grow. The phantoms' forms, once insubstantial, became increasingly solid with each wave.

Lin Changtian, meanwhile, watched the chaos above with a leisurely air, occasionally cheering them on. The old man remained impassive, his expression always calm and indifferent, as though the strengthening of the fiends meant nothing—merely ants struggling for survival.

When the demons realized they could not breach the old man's formation, they began searching for other prey. Everyone else lay under the spell of the seductive music, and the fiends did not approach them; thus, Lin Changtian became the focus of their attention.

As the conflict ceased and all—man and ghost alike—turned their gaze to him, Lin Changtian's smile froze. He quietly retreated several steps, then, in a flash, darted away. The fiends let out shrill wails, then, regardless of old grievances or new, rushed at him with murderous intent. The old man did not intervene, grinning as he watched Lin Changtian's desperate flight, this time taking his turn at leisure.

Lin Changtian ran wildly, not daring to stop. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he caught sight of the old man at the horizon, still relaxed, and nearly died of frustration—but he could only curse under his breath and flee for his life. The fiends drew closer; the nearest was so close, its drool nearly dripped onto his clothes, as if about to tear into his delicious flesh. The thought stirred the fiend, who stopped its howling and stared hungrily at Lin Changtian, burning its soul in its effort to bite his neck.

In that perilous instant, Lin Changtian suddenly spun around and shouted, “Strike first to gain the upper hand!” Then, ferociously, he lunged to bite the fiend’s neck. The expected sensation never came, but the fiend indeed dissipated into a wisp of smoke. Thrilled, Lin Changtian touched his jaw and shouted, “My divine fangs are formed—who dares to offer themselves next?” The fiends, as if seeing something terrifying, fled in all directions, wailing. Lin Changtian laughed uproariously, and it would have lasted longer had he not twisted his neck from looking up too quickly. Reflexively, he glanced behind him, only to meet the strange gaze of Yu Baili.

Yu Baili walked over, ignored Lin Changtian’s aggrieved expression, and simply grabbed him, heading toward the old man.

As the fiends scattered and the entranced people remained under control, Yu Baili casually raised his long blade and swung it toward the heavens. Light swept across the sky, exploding outside the celestial gates at the top before raining down upon the earth. Countless beams broke through clouds, illuminating the land; for a moment, it was impossible to tell whether it was sunlight or blade-light. All fiends touched by Yu Baili’s blade-light were reduced to dust and returned to nothing. As the light spread, the seductive music grew shrill, then abruptly ceased, and everyone awoke as if from a dream.

Watching the chaos dissolve into order, Yu Baili yawned lazily and boasted to Lin Changtian, “How many layers of my blade’s majesty did you see?” “When light passes through the atmosphere, it refracts and scatters because air density varies and is unevenly distributed. That’s why, as the blade-light descends, it colors the clouds on the horizon, appearing as a miracle, like dawn blooming—indescribable.” “Are you a science or literature major?” Lin Changtian stood with hands behind his back, looking down on Yu Baili, immensely smug. Yu Baili glanced at Lin Changtian and, by coincidence, caught sight of the Baidu search results displayed on his phone hidden behind his back. Yu Baili said nothing, simply dragged Lin Changtian along.

After rejoining the others, Yu Baili tossed Lin Changtian aside, gazed toward the direction of the Bohai Sea, seemed to recall something, relaxed, and turned to the crowd. “The disaster in Bohai should be over now.” “Hm?” The crowd, still disoriented, responded in unison with surprise. Yu Baili said slowly, “Could you use your phones' network before? How about now?” “It seems to work now!” The crowd grew noisy, voices rising until they became a joyous cheer for survival.

Lin Changtian looked at Yu Baili, bewildered. “Is it really over?” Yu Baili replied earnestly, “Yes.” The former hubbub fell silent at his words. Indeed, before this calamity, Yu Baili had painted the scene as the end of humanity, the terror and death had been apocalyptic; yet if this was all, something seemed missing.

Seeing the crowd fall silent because of Lin Changtian's question, a tall, thin youth suddenly jumped out and pointed at Lin Changtian, cursing, “You, a useless fool saved by Mr. Yu, usually idle and useless, now that everyone has barely survived, you come out with nonsense to make yourself seem important—truly those who ought to die don’t, while those who shouldn’t, well—sigh.” As he spoke, the youth surreptitiously watched Yu Baili’s reaction, sniffling. Lin Changtian recognized him—a legendary figure on campus, highly esteemed, rarely spoken ill of.

“This is much like Yu Baili’s talk of nobility,” Lin Changtian thought, turning quietly and walking away. In truth, to most people, Lin Changtian was not so talkative—always silent, almost invisible, as if he could be there or not.

Yu Baili gave Lin Changtian a long look, then, smiling, walked toward the tall youth. “Did you just say I saved a fool?”

“Yes, yes!” The youth quickly agreed, straightened his clothes, cleared his throat, and continued loudly, “You descended like a celestial being that day, stopping the mad dog who bullied Professor Song, and now you’ve saved everyone’s lives. Truly—”

“I asked, did you just say I saved a fool?”

“Yes, you risked your life to save that fool, and he was lucky enough to survive—it must be fortune accumulated over generations.” The youth had barely finished his words when Yu Baili kicked him, sending him flying, blood spraying as he crashed through a nearby building, snapping it in half. He would not survive.

Yu Baili grinned, taunting the sky, “Hey, damn it, this kid says I saved a fool—does that make me a trash can?” “By the way—” Yu Baili strode to Lin Changtian’s side and turned back to address the crowd, “Now the monsters are gone, but I’m even harder to provoke than they were. Some of you, remember that.”

Lin Changtian stared at Yu Baili in astonishment, as if today, the man known as the Northern Region’s Vulture Tiger had finally revealed his true colors—his bandit aura, laid bare.

Yu Baili paid no mind to Lin Changtian’s gaze, grabbed him, and flew toward the Bohai Sea. “I think I made a mistake.”

“What?” Lin Changtian asked timidly.

“I shouldn’t have stopped Chen Ziliang when I arrived. That old man probably isn’t anything good either. And my kick just now should have been a side kick, so there wouldn’t have been so much bleeding.”

Once, in the Northern Region, Yu Baili’s name alone could silence crying children.