Chapter Thirty-Five: Laughter

“You devil!”
“Evil black goat, thunder-spewing dragon, Satan of the underworld! Terrifying monster!”
“Even if we cannot kill you today, one day, warriors of freedom will send you back to hell! Monsters like you will inevitably be feared by all, abandoned by all, and beset by all!”

Whether it was the mad howling before death or an instinctive recognition of the inhuman void behind Lan Yi’s cold eyes, Dean pressed himself to the ground like a writhing maggot, howling in defiance.

The wailing of the vanquished was truly ugly.

It was no different from a clown hypnotizing himself, convincing himself that his actions held meaning. Lan Yi had seen far too many enemies die at his hands in the same disgraceful manner.

After all, power was easily obtained.

But that equanimity, that unwavering resolve to remain calm and seek solutions no matter the circumstance—that heart of a true strongman—was far rarer.

This pitiful display did not escape the eyes of Lady Philiya.

The graceful beauty cast her rippling gaze upon Lan Yi, who stood before her, tall and almost divine. All would turn their blades against him?

Even if that day ever came, she knew for certain she would not be among them.

Seeing that Lan Yi did not execute Dean on the spot, Zhao Sikong, who had been quietly standing aside like a shadow, took a step forward.

“Master Immortal, this foreigner’s filthy words are unbearable. Shall we silence him and continue our journey?” Dressed impeccably like a butler, Zhao Sikong’s words drew the attention of several women who had previously thought themselves unfit for association with the Immortal Master. They had not noticed before, but this handsome, fair-skinned steward seemed quite the catch.

To serve as the Immortal Master’s steward—surely this carried more weight than a sixth-rank official at a prime minister’s gate!

Most importantly, compared to Zhao Jian’s brutality, Geng Liangchen’s ghostly gloom, and Huo Yuanjia’s inscrutable nature, this mighty Spirit General, the Shadow Commander, seemed much more approachable.

“You—go and cut out his tongue.”

Lan Yi named his choice without a hint of hesitation.

The named Kent paused only briefly before stepping from the crowd, drawing the magic sword at his waist.

This was the divine weapon bestowed by Immortal Master Lan Yi himself.

Named Thunderhowl, it could emit sword energy and command lightning. Aside from needing to be recharged, its only flaw was the user’s own limits of mind and reflex.

“Kent, you traitor! Do you think murder can solve everything?” Dean and Kent appeared to be old acquaintances.

“Mr. Dean, you do not understand. The more Master Lan Yi kills, the more loyal I become.”

With a swift kick, Kent sent Dean sprawling. His battle-scarred face radiated utter submission. He thrust the magic sword into Dean’s mouth with practiced ease and perfect angle.

“In this world, money and power cannot buy loyalty, but fear and strength can!”

With a thought, the next instant Dean’s cheek burst open as the sword energy shredded the inside of his mouth. The smell of scorched flesh rose as the electric current cauterized the wound.

Master Lan Yi had only ordered the tongue removed, not his life.

Still...

Poor Mr. Dean likely wouldn’t live much longer. Kent knew well what fate awaited those who tried to assassinate or subvert. Fortunately, he had dealt with those who came to approach him, and though he believed he’d been thorough, facing Lan Yi’s luminous, amused gaze, he realized every move of his was already known.

Though Master said nothing, he sensed he had barely passed the test.

It was only then that Kent, relieved, exhaled a silent sigh and felt his loyalty deepen.

Kent was not the only one who had been tempted.

Among the foreigners who had already submitted and been granted weapons, two had vanished forever this very day. When they faced the warriors, the warriors merely flung out a piece of the magnetic circuit called Azure Radiance, locking the weapon’s safety. The foreigners had no chance to resist.

Since Immortal Master Lan Yi dared bestow weapons, he feared not that foreigners might turn them back against him. Even without Lan Yi sealing the safeties, the warriors had plenty of ways to deal with these men.

Aspiration, after all, is the furthest emotion from true understanding.

Lan Yi was neither a loving nor friendly god, nor a hero saving people from disaster. He remained perfect, a statue in a temple to be gazed up at, but in the eyes of the reporters and onlookers, there now lingered a chill of metal and thunder about him—a sense of danger that only Lady Philiya, Yuriko Uesugi, and the like still admired. Most other women shrank back.

A love that risked everything was admirable, but one still had to consider one’s own life, did one not?

“Everyone, please follow me to the naval port.”

Lan Yi took in the shifting expressions of the crowd.

It was still more amusing to banter with Jin Buhuan.

The further a psionic cultivator walked, the more he might long for the past, but never would he turn back. Rather than looking back, better to let more people follow; for if loneliness grew too great, he might do something mad—like one psionic cultivator who, out of loneliness, once practiced the infamous Six Desires Demon Tome.

“Why are we going to the warships?” wondered some who were slow on the uptake. Was the Immortal Master planning another performance?

“You country bumpkin, the Immortal Master is kindhearted—he’s taking us on a sea voyage!” This from a rather dim scion of a wealthy family.

“Heh, fool. The Immortal Master is about to act personally,” whispered one in the know.

“Act against the warships?”

“Exactly. Those foreigners still want to meddle in our Xinghan’s own affairs. How could the Immortal Master tolerate that? He’s already mobilized the troops and tracked them down. Didn’t you notice the Martial General and Ghost General are both absent today?”

Many realized the truth.

Hadn’t the Immortal Master just declared he would challenge the warships’ cannons? Well, now he was taking them along to face the guns.

As the realization sank in, their faces drained of color. Wait—did this mean they were being brought to the battlefield? On the battlefield, swords and blades know no mercy, not to mention cannons that kill by the score. If they died aboard an ironclad, wouldn’t that be a pointless death? Even if Lan Yi’s magic was boundless, there was no guarantee he would save them.

At once, many trembled and considered fleeing.

But there was no escape.

The martial artists, grinning under Zhao Sikong’s lead, encircled them and escorted each securely to the carriages, especially ensuring not a single reporter slipped away.

Many forced smiles, but inside they cursed Zhao Sikong bitterly.

How blind they had been to think the Shadow Commander was easy to deal with!

And their desire to curry favor... only grew stronger!

Such is the nature of power: wherever it appears, it seeps into everything, even the most insignificant corners it never notices.

Amusingly, not one person present dared harbor a single disrespectful thought toward Lan Yi, which, in its way, left him a little disappointed.