Chapter 118

No way.

This is happening sooner than expected.

Just moments ago…

During sunset, a guy called the Vice-Patriarch of the Five Peaks Sect was enthusiastically experimenting with the Makya Sword. Seems like you just needed to channel *qi* into it – he adjusted the blade’s length, made it thicker or thinner, and quickly mastered its usage. If you know how to use *qi*, figuring out this sword isn’t that hard, apparently.

That night…

He used it to decapitate all his subordinates around him. Yeah, he couldn’t resist temptation and acted right away. I thought he’d wait until we got closer to Kunlun or drag everyone back to his base before doing anything, but nah, too fast.

After slicing people with the Makya Sword, he tucked it away, grabbed another sword, and smashed the carriage with his foot. Wooden shards pierced my body as the blood-soaked Vice-Patriarch approached me, muttering something about not needing witnesses. He then cut off my head.

My head separated from my body, but he could’ve turned me into a monster by stealing my warmth… yet he didn’t this time. Why? When my severed head hit the ground, I noticed survivors barely clinging to life nearby.

So, he grabbed my head and torso, threw them far off the road, and disappeared.

After lying there for a while, insects started gnawing on me, and wild animals drawn by the smell of blood began circling. But I regenerated my body. Once I reattached my head and stood up, I saw a big creature.

A tiger.

The beast emerged from the darkness, revealing massive fangs, and stared at me suspiciously.

I ignored it, and it slinked back into the shadows of the forest without attacking. Lucky for me—no idea if regeneration works if I get eaten.

After shaking off dirt and bugs, I headed toward where other survivors might be, hoping some were still alive. The carriage I rode in was now blazing fiercely.

Looking around, there’s no sign of the Vice-Patriarch—he must’ve fled already. Examining the wreckage, I can piece together what he planned: frame me for massacring the Five Peaks Sect members and escaping. Convenient, huh? In these remote mountains where tigers roam, bodies won’t last long anyway.

Still, he seems to have prepared an alibi. He plans to claim I used the Makya Sword to slaughter everyone.

If there’s no one to correct lies, they become truth. And things quietly disappearing unnoticed? Happens all the time.

Problem is, the person who committed this crime is me.

What a perfectly cooked-up situation.

With a frustrated expression, I sat beside someone dying and greeted them.

“Hello, humanity.”

Instant panic.

Wait… did this guy witness my death earlier? Oh yeah, our eyes met when my head got chopped off.

Scary, sure, but on the flip side, whatever I say will sound convincing.

“If you do nothing, you’ll die. But if you make a contract with me, I can restore your body and let you live.”

He hesitated. So, I left him to think while I sought out others still alive, waking them up forcefully and repeating the same offer.

One, two, three, four… five, six. Except one died mid-conversation, so that leaves five.

“Sorry, folks, I can only make contracts with three people per day. There are five survivors here, so unfortunately, two won’t make it.”

His body visibly twitched in fear.

Yeah, numbers stick easily in people’s minds. That’s why scammers always throw them out—it adds credibility even to meaningless stats.

“Here’s the deal: You give yourself to me now, and later, once you’ve completed everything, I’ll take everything you possess. Sound good?”

I explained the contract terms.

“And agreeing means the contract is finalized. Limited to three people.”

First-come, first-served, with a time limit.

Actually, everyone here could survive—if someone wished fervently enough during the contract process, they might gain a psychic ability powerful enough to save everyone. But I’m not telling them that. What I need are people filled with hatred who can spread far and wide.

“H-Hell yeah.”

The guy furthest away said that.

“Alright.”

As I merged into him, his body turned ceramic-like, shattered like pottery, and then he was reborn as a man with purple hair and pale blue skin.

Seems those near-death types end up with funky appearances.

Anyway, despite looking weird, he survived.

Now there are four left, with two spots remaining.

It’s a game of chicken.

Then the first transformed guy walked up to me.

“What do you want from us?”

“I believe humans should choose their own paths. One favor, though: please build graves for the deceased here.”

Sounds respectful, doesn’t it? But it’s not for them—it’s to lower their guard against me.

No real restrictions, just asking for basic human decency.

Sounds reasonable, right?

Even though they’re destined to lose their warmth eventually.

“I-I’ll do it. I’m not ready… to die…”

Next was a guy buried under sand who had faked being dead. His skin also turned blue.

Three left, one spot.

The odds decrease as time passes: 60%, 50%, 30.3%.

Let’s sweeten the pot a bit more.

“There’s only one person I can save now.”

Make them decide properly—who goes first, who dies, and who shoulders the guilt?

As time passed…

Another person died.

Odds improved again. But I’m not explaining that—I’m deliberately dragging this out to torment them.

The burning carriage is almost extinguished. In the fading light, a hand shot up.

“I’ll do it. Contract.”

He regenerated.

One person remains.

The Five Peaks Sect, short for Five Great Mountains Sect, combines five factions: Hua Mountain Sect, Hang Mountain Sect, Song Mountain Sect, Tai Mountain Sect, and Xiong Mountain Sect.

Among the survivors: one from Hua Mountain, one from Song Mountain, and one from Tai Mountain.

The Song Mountain representative holds significant importance—they’re the younger brother of the current Vice-Patriarch and apprentice to the Grandmaster of the Five Peaks Sect.

Definitely someone talkative with some authority.

Approaching the dimming fire, I looked at the three dazed survivors and asked:

“Could you help dig graves for the fallen?”

In the pitch-black night, I stepped into the shadows.

It’s all part of the act.

And I added a drop of malice.

Look at the corpses of your former comrades. Who could’ve done this to them?

To set priorities according to my preferences, I requested they bury the dead.

They agreed.

Meanwhile, there’s still someone alive. Who’ll be next to explode?

Emotions are contagious.

On purpose, I grabbed a random sword nearby and dug furiously into the earth close to the corpse-littered road.

Some helped me; others gathered the bodies.

“Aaaah! Aaaaaagh! Why?! WHY, Jeongchiljin?! You worthless piece of trash!!”

Eventually, we encountered someone either alive or dying. After exchanging brief words, they passed away.

Turns out they were close friends.

Emotions erupted—a mix of wailing and rage. The Vice-Patriarch’s name was shouted. Survivors glanced at each other nervously.

Yep.

Meeting someone dying hurts more than finding someone already dead. We all know that.

When the cries subsided and everyone was buried…

The survivors’ faces were wrecked. Especially satisfying was the hatred flickering in their eyes.

At that moment, Cheonbaek of Tai Mountain Sect approached me.

“Why did you save us?”

Surprisingly calm individual here.

“My goal is to reach Kunlun Mountain. Riding in the carriage was convenient since I didn’t have to walk. Being tied up wasn’t bothersome, and I figured everything would come to light once we reached Kunlun anyway.”

So, I explained.

Even if they discover I’m a monster once we reach Kunlun, I didn’t lie. Pure facts.

But it sounds like I’m somehow connected to sages or immortals, doesn’t it?

“Things turned out this way.”

Then Wonhoup of Hua Mountain Sect stepped forward.

“Why didn’t you help us earlier?! You could’ve intervened when that bastard used the treasure sword!”

Classic—shift blame onto whoever’s closest. Simple explanations are easy to accept.

“As you see, my body regenerates pretty well unless severely damaged. And I can only offer one chance per person, up to three daily. Like I told Yoo Dae-jeong, I can’t use the Makya Sword.”

Of course, my regeneration and inability to use the Makya Sword are unrelated—but bundling them makes it seem like I’m totally useless in combat.

While mentioning Yoo Dae-jeong, the leader of Hyang Mountain Sect, to boost credibility. Technically, I said that earlier too.

Can you guys come up with a better explanation?

“The treasure sword is beyond my control. I’m continuing toward Kunlun Mountain. Humanity, do as you wish. Farewell.”

Again, subtly implying I’m not human. I left them behind, planting seeds of misconception for when they meet others and talk about me.

So no one can track me easily.

I walked toward the direction of Kunlun Mountain.

Long journey ahead.

But it won’t be boring—with three new spectators to keep an eye on.

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