Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stirring the Soul

“Bah!” An unfamiliar need erupted from Hao Po’s mouth.

Visible ripples formed at the edge of his lips, spreading out in all directions.

The trees nearby immediately ceased their swaying, and even the surrounding wolves halted their attack, freezing in place. They were exposed, vulnerable in the open.

Ruoxi heard the sound; her mind jolted, suddenly turning blank. Only for a fleeting moment—she hurriedly shook her head and blinked, bewildered by the scene before her.

Opposite Ruoxi, Hao Tian and Hao Yun showed little surprise, as if accustomed to such occurrences.

Xiaoshan trembled at the sound; the bloodlust in his mind dissipated by half. He moved his arm and discovered he could once again control his own body.

“Put the sword back in its scabbard!” Hao Po shouted at Xiaoshan.

“Okay!” Xiaoshan replied hurriedly, instinctively reaching to return the sword to its place.

Just as Xiaoshan reached to sheathe his sword, he heard movement behind him, as if some animal was darting quickly.

He reflexively turned, only to see a wolf behind him, jaws agape, springing from its spot and lunging at Xiaoshan’s neck.

Xiaoshan’s eyes widened, utterly confused by what was happening.

He watched helplessly as the leaping wolf drew closer. His blood surged, tension rising within him.

Unnoticed, the murderous aura from his sword rushed up his right arm and straight to his mind, filling his thoughts with scenes of gore and rage, an overwhelming urge to kill.

That alone was alarming, but the wolf’s image, so near and vivid, imprinted itself on the battlefield. His eyes reddened; he must not be bitten. He must… kill it! Xiaoshan muttered inwardly.

His sword, heavy and unwieldy, rose slowly in his trembling hand, sweeping from right to left—toward the airborne wolf.

Though slow, the sword moved nonetheless.

Xiaoshan’s mind raced, yet reality unfolded in a spark’s instant.

No matter who is airborne, their movement slows, and wolves are no exception.

From the wolf’s leap to the sword’s strike was but a moment—too quick for any reaction.

Even the slowest swing could strike true, unless he was bitten first—and then, there would be nothing after.

The sword sliced through the wolf’s body, piercing it. With a sharp sound, blood erupted from the wound, spraying directly into Xiaoshan’s eyes.

Instinctively, Xiaoshan closed his eyes as the blood touched his eyelids, smearing across them.

Suddenly, his hand began to tremble again. He looked down to see the sword shaking. The blood, which should have trickled along the blade, vanished instantly upon contact, as if absorbed by the sword itself.

Xiaoshan pondered this, a strange emotion spreading through him, echoing the feeling from before—his body trembled uncontrollably.

He could no longer restrain himself; Xiaoshan felt only this sensation.

“Bah!” The same sound resounded once more, a force that shook the very soul.

Before Xiaoshan’s eyes, the crimson faded back to green, reality returning, his mind clearing in an instant. He gripped his sword tightly, lowered his gaze to the bladeless sword—there was not a trace of blood upon its edge.

Only the wolf lay before him, bleeding and trembling, proof that the scene had truly transpired.