Qin Sang's eyes shot open, only to be blinded by the harsh sunlight, forcing him to shut them quickly.
His throat was parched, and an overwhelming pain surged through his body like a tide. Propping himself up on the ground with his arms, he realized that at some point, he had fallen out of the prison cart and passed out on the ground. His right leg was pinned under a broken cage, which explained the sharp pain—his leg might have been crushed.
How did the cart overturn?
Qin Sang struggled to recall the memories before he lost consciousness, his head throbbing painfully. He barely managed to sit up and, upon opening his eyes, was greeted by a scene of utter devastation in the distance.
The ancient trees along the riverbank were either toppled or broken, some even appeared to have been struck by lightning. One tree was ablaze, with thick, choking smoke billowing in the wind.
The once flat expanse of yellow grass was now completely unrecognizable, as if wild boars had torn through it. Deep gouges marred the ground, exposing tangled white roots.
When the convoy had first arrived, the riverbank had been smooth and even.
Qin Sang stared blankly at the scene, and slowly, fragments of memory began to return.
A flying sword had pierced the black-cloth-covered cart, which then exploded with a loud boom. A figure in black robes had flown out, and it seemed the two had a grudge, engaging in combat the moment they met. After hearing some strange sounds, Qin Sang had lost consciousness.
What happened after I blacked out?
Both men can fly, which is clearly not normal. The bandits have referred to them as immortal masters. Can they really be immortals?
As a child, Qin Sanwa had heard many stories about immortals[1], but Qin Sang had dismissed them as mere superstition, much like in his previous life. Now, however, it seemed there might be some truth to them.
Which immortal master won?
Qin Sang saw no sign of the immortal masters. Looking around, he saw that the prison carts were overturned, with most of the cages smashed to pieces. His fellow captives were sprawled across the ground, lying in disarray.
No wonder the ground beneath his hand felt so soft—he had been pressing on someone’s stomach.
Qin Sang quickly lifted his hand, then hesitated for a moment before carefully placing his fingers on the person's wrist. There was no pulse—they were dead...
Perhaps because he had already died once, Qin Sang found that his courage was greater than in his previous life. Despite the corpse lying next to him, he felt little fear.
Is anyone still alive?
Qin Sang anxiously scanned the other bodies, but everyone lay motionless on the ground, including the horses that had pulled the carts. There was no sign of life—an eerie and unsettling sight.
Suddenly, Qin Sang noticed more bodies lying along the riverbank. These were the mountain bandits who had been cutting down trees to build a raft. After the man in white had appeared, they had all knelt down, shouting "Immortal Master," but for some reason, they too had lost consciousness.
Qin Sang's expression changed sharply. The bandits were strong and hadn’t fallen, so they might just be unconscious, like him—not dead!
Realizing this, Qin Sang quickly leaned forward and struggled to lift the wooden cage off his leg. He gasped, unable to suppress a groan of pain, but he bit it back, fearing that he might alert the bandits.
He prayed fervently that his leg wasn’t broken. If it were, even if he managed to escape, surviving in this wilderness would be nearly impossible.
Qin Sang carefully pulled his leg out to inspect it.
Fortunately, the bone wasn’t broken.
However, when he tried to move, a wave of intense pain shot through him. At the very least, it was a fracture. Walking would be out of the question for now.
Even if he had to crawl, Qin Sang was determined to reach one of the bandits and retrieve a knife. First, he would cut the ropes binding his hands and feet. Then, he began to systematically stab the bandits. He initially aimed for the heart, but when his blade struck bone, sending a jolt of pain through his hand, he switched to slashing throats before finishing with a final stab to the heart.
It wasn’t until he found himself staring at his blood-covered hands that Qin Sang realized the bandits had made no sound when stabbed; they had already been dead. Yet, he had continued stabbing like a man possessed, over and over. Check latest chapters at novel※fire.net
He was terrified—not of the corpses, but of himself.
Qin Sang tossed the knife aside and crawled to the riverbank, plunging his face into the water. He only lifted his head when he was on the brink of suffocation, gasping for air as his emotions gradually settled.
If I don't kill them, they'll kill me!
If he had realized this sooner in his previous life, would he have ended up in such a dire situation?
There is still one left!
A sudden shiver ran through Qin Sang, and cold sweat almost broke out on his skin. It was only when he saw a corpse riddled with wooden splinters that he relaxed and collapsed to the ground. The leader had been standing next to the black-cloth-covered cart when it exploded and was killed on the spot.
Even though all the bandits were dead, Qin Sang didn't dare to let his guard down. He used a wooden stick to prop himself up.
As he looked at the full view of the grassy plain in the distance, Qin Sang couldn't help but be secretly amazed. Was all this destruction caused by the battle between the two immortal masters? The sheer power was terrifying.
Among the wild grasses, two figures lay prone, one in black and one in white.
Rationality told Qin Sang that these two immortal masters were not ordinary people—they were different from the bandits. Now was the best time to escape. Although he couldn’t walk, the river’s current wasn’t strong, and a nearly finished raft lay nearby. With just a couple more vines tied, he could leave this dangerous place.
Torn between fear and resolve, Qin Sang grabbed the knife and crawled closer.
Only when he was near did he see that the man in black had been severed at the waist by a sword, his body cut cleanly into two parts. The flying sword must have been incredibly sharp, as the cut was smooth, though the sight was gruesome.
The man in white had a ghastly wound in his chest, as if something had gouged into it viciously, leaving the flesh mangled and the internal organs shredded.
They had killed each other.
Qin Sang felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
He carefully lifted the black robe of the man in black and was startled by a hideous, aged face beneath. After composing himself, he began to search the man’s body. This immortal master seemed impoverished—there wasn’t a single coin on him. All Qin Sang found was a piece of material resembling sheepskin and a book tucked in the man’s chest.
He flipped through the book, recognizing most of the characters, but the content was obscure and difficult to understand. The sheepskin appeared completely ordinary, with nothing special about it other than its exceptional softness.
Qin Sang suddenly noticed something beneath the man in black. He moved the body and found a small black flag on the ground.
The flag wasn’t large, with a pole just about the length of his palm. The top was pointed, and the bottom was rounded smooth. Qin Sang picked it up for a closer look. The pole was made of an unknown material that felt cold to the touch. Engraved on it were three small characters: Yan Luo Banner[2]!
Just the name alone suggested it wasn’t anything good. Coupled with the memory of how this demonic figure had drained people into dry husks, Qin Sang nearly threw the banner away.
The banner’s fabric was a long, narrow strip of tattered cloth, slightly shorter than the pole, and riddled with holes. A faint image of an evil spirit could still be made out on it.
After staring at it for a moment, Qin Sang felt as if his consciousness was being sucked into it, so he quickly looked away.
It is indeed sinister!
Nothing good can come from this demonic figure!
Qin Sang hastily wrapped the Yan Luo Banner with the book in the sheepskin and then turned his gaze toward the man in white, his expression complex.
1. Immortals or "xian" refer to people who have achieved supernatural powers and immortality in Chinese Daoism ☜
2. Yan Luo or King Yan is the god of death and ruler of hell in Chinese mythology ☜