Chapter 279: Chapter 230: Golden-winged Bird King Sword
When the Grassland Khan woke up, he was already tightly bound.
Despite possessing great power, even able to transform into a Golden-winged Bird, he couldn’t break free of the ropes—because the true restraint wasn’t the ropes but the large hand pressing on his shoulder.
The owner of that hand looked ordinary; he truly didn’t know him.
If the person could really match him in strength, how could he not know who it was?
"Who are you really?"
The Grassland Khan strained his neck, trying to see the man’s face clearly.
But as he looked up, all he saw was an endless sea of fire.
What should have been the camp of the Grassland soldiers was now ablaze, the overwhelming stench of corpses rising from the raging flames, as countless Grassland soldiers were consumed by the inferno.
These were soldiers he had personally led, representing the efforts of his lifetime.
But now, these soldiers were...
"Oh, you’re awake?"
The plain-looking face turned toward him.
"Good, you’re awake; it’ll save me the trouble of waking you... don’t move, I need your help with something."
"Let me go! Let’s fight again if you dare!"
The Grassland Khan struggled desperately, but no matter what, he couldn’t break free from that large hand’s grasp—that hand felt like it was nailed into his shoulder. The piercing pain left him without the strength to take any action.
He could only yell, roar, and repeatedly provoke, trying to find a chance to escape.
But soon, even his shouting was silenced.
Because standing before him was a large cauldron.
The cauldron was rather crude, clearly hastily made, and barely large enough to fit a person inside—which was exactly what it contained now, a bound person fitting perfectly inside.
The Grassland Khan vaguely realized something, causing him to turn to the monstrous figure beside him.
All he saw was a pattern painted with fresh blood.
Using blood to draw war paint was something Grassland people occasionally practiced, but compared to Grassland war paint, the fierce patterns on the other were more complex and vicious—at that moment, the Grassland Khan even felt a surging power from the paint, distinctly different from the war paint of the Grassland people.
In Grassland culture, only the most savage and primitive Grassland people would use blood to draw war patterns, believing it brought power and made them closer to legendary specters.
Yet the war paint now before him exuded an even older and more primitive aura.
This wasn’t an imitation of savagery; what appeared before him was savagery itself.
It was a beast-like ferocity; he might indeed eat him.
"Eat people? No, no, no, how could I do such a thing?"
That figure patted a large knife painted with a bird and seemed to talk to it.
"Why think of me as so barbaric? I’m a Yin person, not a savage... Alright, let’s burn the fire higher; I have a great use for it."
As he spoke, he threw the Grassland Khan into the cauldron.
The whole process took place without asking the Grassland Khan a single question.
The large hand still gripped his shoulder, and he remained immobile, but the roasting heat caused the ropes binding him to loosen—allowing him to struggle once more. At that moment, the Grassland Khan saw an opportunity to survive!
But it was unbearably hot; the cauldron’s interior was glowing red from the flames, even the surroundings distorted in the heat, and his eyes blurred from the smoke.
Yet, he hadn’t given up hope, still struggling with all his might.
As long as he could escape, he could survive, and from the cauldron, he could have a chance to defeat this strange opponent again and gather his scattered soldiers—though his main camp had fallen, most Grassland soldiers were marching southward, meaning if he escaped, he still had a chance to rise again.
As long as he could get out, as long as he could escape...
He must escape, no matter what!
"Ahhhhh——"
Under the scorching heat, his flesh had burned, his consciousness blurred, but through desperate struggle, he finally broke free.
He escaped the bonds, the scorching cauldron, the danger, and even his own flesh.
"I will live! I will conquer the world!"
With the fiery light reflecting off them, a spine longsword still coated with flesh and blood roared madly at the sky.
The pale spine formed a complete sword ridge, with sharp steel feathers atop it, spread out like the wings of a Golden-winged Bird, and at the sword’s hilt, a skulled head with a bird’s beak scanned all around, its eyes full of a desire for conquest.
"Not bad at all."
Examining the broad sword freshly drawn from the cauldron, Yin person Wu Zhao nodded in satisfaction.
Then, he tapped the large knife engraved with a phoenix pattern at his side.
"You’re right; his will is indeed strong, even stronger than yours... Why look at me like that? Don’t you know how useless you are?"
"..."
The large knife engraved with a phoenix pattern, or rather, the once gray-black phoenix of the Chu people, couldn’t utter a word.
On one hand, it was due to the pain that pierced its soul since the Yin person hadn’t released it, and on the other hand, because of the extreme humiliation; the so-called Grassland Khan was once its defeated foe—yet faced with the Yin person’s criticism, it dared not retort even a syllable.
Because even it trembled at such behavior.
It had once thought using live humans for Evil Qi testing was the pinnacle of madness, yet this Yin person had no qualms refining living humans into weapons, as easy as eating or drinking.
Human lives held no value in his eyes, offering no ripple in his mind.
"We have swords now, still need to get some long weapons."
Slinging the sword forged from the Golden-winged Bird onto his back, Yin person Wu Zhao continued contemplating.
"Silence, no need to ask you this time... Here we go, let’s use him."
