Volume One: The Wild Boy Chapter Thirty-Three: Lin Changtian’s Blade

Zhang Cheng's body was covered in bulging veins, his blood vessels swelling as if he was nearing his limit. He seemed unconcerned, casting a shadowed glance at Lin Changtian, his whole frame taut as he exerted himself, sending blood splattering around him.

"Ah, that's much more comfortable," Zhang Cheng sneered, his face twisted with excitement. "That kid, Chen Mo, couldn't take a beating. It's your turn to entertain me." The sight made Lin Changtian's skin crawl. "Brother, shouldn't young men like us talk about martial ethics? Fighting is fine, but it's late at night—could you at least not grin so wide and frighten people? If the author hadn't written 'you're sneering,' I'd have thought you just finished eating a few children and were belching contentedly."

Zhang Cheng scratched the back of his head. "Alright, as you wish. Get your weapon out; I never bully the unarmed."

"Really?"

"Is there any doubt? I may be a brute, but I have my principles," Zhang Cheng replied.

Lin Changtian blinked innocently. "Then you can't bully me, brother. It's quite a coincidence, actually—I took the bus here, and with the ban on carrying weapons, I don't have any. Looks like the fight can't happen tonight."

The soldiers around them were at a loss, even Zhang Cheng's eye twitched a few times. But in the next moment, the burly man broke into a hearty smile and said, "That does make sense. Little brother, tell me your name, so we can be friends."

"Gladly. I'm Chen Changtian. I hope you'll let me live tonight, brother."

Zhang Cheng's expression changed abruptly, adopting a solemn tone. "I have another rule—whenever I meet someone named Chen, I beat them senseless, weapon or not."

"No, no," Lin Changtian waved his hand. "I was just being cautious—actually, my surname is Lin. You serve the Lin clan; surely you wouldn't pummel someone named Lin?"

"Oh, then I misspoke. Whenever I meet someone with a three-character name, I beat them senseless," Zhang Cheng declared.

Lin Changtian stamped his foot in protest. "Brother, are you changing the rules?"

Zhang Cheng blinked, his face innocent. "Haven't you heard of the right to final interpretation? Stop dawdling, fight me with real weapons, and I’ll make it quick for you."

Lin Changtian sighed and slowly drew his long blade.

"So, we must fight?"

"Unless something unexpected happens, you’re dying here tonight," Zhang Cheng yawned, speaking lazily. He clearly didn’t take this frail young man seriously.

"Then you’d better be careful—my blade is swift."

"Can it be faster than Chen Mo’s gun? I’ll stand here and let you—" Zhang Cheng hadn’t finished his sentence before Lin Changtian was already upon him, blade piercing straight through. The powerful energy surged within Zhang Cheng’s body, blasting him over ten meters away and raising a cloud of dust.

The mocking expressions of the guards shifted to shock; in a heartbeat, every weapon was trained on Lin Changtian, and none dared underestimate him now.

"This blade works quite well," Lin Changtian remarked, smiling at the reward Chen Mo had given him in advance, just in case.

As the smoke cleared, Zhang Cheng struggled to rise, his gaze dark as he stared at Lin Changtian. "You’re quite the actor, kid. I underestimated you. But see, I’m not dead. If this was your ultimate move, then next it’s my turn to tear you apart, Lin Changtian."

Lin Changtian’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t expected such a wound to fail in killing Zhang Cheng; worse, the latter’s injuries were healing visibly, white bone gradually enveloped by blackened flesh armor. Ruthless as ever, Zhang Cheng cut away healthy skin and waited for the black armor to cover him completely. At this point, he looked nothing like a man, but a demon crawling out of hell.

"This is the Lin clan’s highest technology, merging the genes of monsters from the Awakened World with the flesh and blood of Awakened ones. Like a miracle—power you’ll never experience!" Zhang Cheng’s smile was cruel, already savoring the imagined terror in his prey’s blood.

Yet Lin Changtian’s demeanor was astonishingly calm, even tinged with contempt.

"You’re not afraid?" Zhang Cheng was bewildered by his inexplicable confidence.

Lin Changtian snorted, looking toward the northern region, hands clasped behind his back. "Your status in the Lin clan isn’t particularly high, is it? The monster they gave you isn’t anything special, is it?"

Zhang Cheng was puzzled by Lin Changtian’s words. "True, my status isn’t high. But how can you tell the strength of the monster?"

Lin Changtian seemed to recall the people of the north, his expression tinged with worry. "I once heard of a vicious dog, living on the far edge of the northern frontier, gifted beyond compare—so much so that even I could only look up to it. They say that dog, with just a bone, could wield a blade and dance, its might overwhelming, famed as the fiercest beast of the north."

"A dog, that strong?" Zhang Cheng was incredulous.

Lin Changtian shot him a sidelong glance and replied, "Aside from its poor manners in the latrine, it’s truly deserving of its reputation. Look at you—so ignorant. What, did the Lin clan’s technology fail to upgrade your brain?"

Zhang Cheng was still marveling at the wonders of the world, but Lin Changtian’s words stoked a fury within him. Anger flared, and he charged at Lin Changtian with his giant hammer raised. Lin Changtian dispelled his memories, raised his blade, and met the charge head-on. The hammer’s heavy force clashed with the blade’s sharp edge, sparks flying; for a moment, neither could gain the upper hand.

Zhang Cheng was indeed a true man—he’d rather risk his life fighting two opponents than command his men to swarm. Lin Changtian was equally stubborn, determined to test himself against the giant hammer in direct combat.

As the stalemate dragged on, Lin Changtian felt his energy waning. Gritting his teeth, he shouted, "Zhang Cheng, I respect you as a real man. I only have strength for one more strike—if you’re still standing after this, then the outcome is decided!" With that, Lin Changtian leapt skyward, stirring the stars in the night, falling from the heavens to the clouds, the full moon forming behind him. The earthly smoke cleared, leaving only the boundless intent of the blade. A wild, primal aura emanated, evoking the spirit of Yu Baili.

Within this blade intent, Lin Changtian seemed to hang in the sky, both reverent and unrestrained, carrying autumn waters born of life and dyeing the solitary landscape.

"Zhang Cheng, there are three thousand wonders in this world, and I haven’t seen enough yet!"

Like a banished immortal falling to mortal dust, Lin Changtian cast aside all pretense, flaunting his wildness to the world. As the blade’s intent sharpened, it painted a scroll: from winter’s snow awaiting spring rain, never knowing summer’s arrival, and finally hearing a thunderclap in the drought, realizing the gentle breeze that follows—such a scene!

Morning sees gray temples and empty sleeves; night dreams of youth, the winds of time carried away.