23. Endless Slaughter

"Bang!"

The gunshot rang out like a thunderclap. The Type 30 rifle was silent until the moment of impact, for its bullet traveled faster than the speed of sound; by the time one heard the report, the target had already been struck. Tang Gubo had died precisely to such a shot.

Of Huang Qiushan’s group, only seven remained, including Zhuo Qirui, Huo Yuxiao, Deng Nanqiao, and Ma Shouyi. Three others had already been killed by Lin Fan. They were all die-hard followers of Huang Qiushan, having committed numerous atrocities in recent days.

Wang Xingbing was the most deserving of death; he had defiled Ning Fang and then gunned down Tang Gubo. Seeing Lin Fan kill him had brought Qin Fen a sense of immense satisfaction. At the same time, the resentment he had long harbored in his heart finally found a vent, slowly draining away.

Chen Cunyuan was Lin Fan’s best friend. Seeing him lying in a pool of blood had filled Lin Fan with uncontrollable rage. He had to kill them; he had to deal with these animals with his own hands.

"Whoosh!"

At the instant the shot rang out, Lin Fan darted away like an agile mountain cat. Under his gaze, the bullet seemed to slow down several times over. In a flash, he dived into the Forest of Steles, a place shrouded in ghostly mist, gray and gloomy, as if it were another realm entirely.

"He disappeared?" Huang Qiushan froze, stunned that Lin Fan could move so quickly, escaping certain death under the muzzles of seven men.

"Get in there!" Huang Qiushan ordered Zhuo Qirui. He was determined to eliminate Lin Fan, even if it meant entering the most terrifying part of the Forest of Steles.

"Boss, the visibility here is... too poor..."

"I told you to go in. Are you deaf?" Huang Qiushan’s face was cold as he cut off Zhuo Qirui’s protests. Zhuo Qirui had no choice but to lead the remaining guards into the forest.

This was exactly what Lin Fan wanted. The Forest of Steles was his home turf; while the others’ vision was obstructed, he could see clearly.

As soon as Huo Yuxiao entered the forest, a chill surged into his soul—a coldness he had never encountered before. *Thump, thump, thump!* Suddenly, a tomb to his left made a sound. Huo Yuxiao squinted, but saw nothing. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, the ghostly mist before him parted like a receding tide, and Lin Fan lunged out, sword raised.

He was the first target.

A bone-chilling cold light flashed. Huo Yuxiao hurriedly raised his rifle to block, but with a sharp *crunch*, the Pure Yang Sword easily sliced the Type 30 in two, the remaining momentum thrusting toward Huo Yuxiao.

"No!" Huo Yuxiao cried out in terror. He threw the useless, broken rifle aside—it was only a burden now—and turned to flee. But his body felt as if it were stuck in wax, and he felt a prickling sensation on his back, as if a sharp blade were about to pierce his chest.

"Squelch!"

Huo Yuxiao looked down to see a sword tip protruding from his chest. Droplets of blood gathered on the point and fell. His consciousness faded rapidly into a dark world. In his final moments, he hazily saw Wang Xingbing beckoning to him...

"Second one."

Lin Fan pulled his sword back and vanished once more into the mist.

"Rat-a-tat-tat..."

After hearing Huo Yuxiao’s scream, Deng Nanqiao was terrified. He sprayed bullets indiscriminately into the surroundings, shattering ancient trees and smashing tombstones, sending dirt and debris flying. The air was filled with supersonic cracks and the acrid smell of gunpowder—perhaps this was the only way to diminish his inner fear.

They say those who do no evil do not fear knocking at their doors. Just moments ago, Deng Nanqiao had seen the ghosts of Tang Gubo, Ma Yinan, and Qi Yangxia.

"Ma Yinan, it was Huang Qiushan who killed you! It had nothing to do with us! Don't come looking for me!" Deng Nanqiao’s face trembled, his heart pounding. Only when the bullets in his Type 30 rifle were exhausted did he collapse to the ground, utterly spent.

"Hallucinations... just hallucinations!"

"Heh, even if you two have turned into ghosts, I can kill you again!" Deng Nanqiao’s face twisted into a snarl. Yes! When he and Huang Qiushan had entered the forest, it was he who had pushed Ma Yinan and Qi Yangxia into the path of the spirits, ensuring they were devoured until not a bone remained. No one knew of this except himself.

"Sigh."

A sigh echoed through the mist—a sound that seemed to express both disappointment in humanity and the sorrow of the world.

"Who’s there? Daring to play ghost and scare me?" Deng Nanqiao instinctively raised his gun in a defensive posture.

Suddenly—

A youth holding a sword emerged from the fog. His face held indifference, pity, and a cold chill. Lin Fan had not intended to continue the slaughter, but having inadvertently heard Deng Nanqiao’s confession, he realized that letting them live would be the greatest evil. He was not a soft-hearted man, nor was he some self-righteous god of the path of virtue.

"Swish!"

In three strides, Lin Fan was before Deng Nanqiao. The Pure Yang Sword vibrated slightly; before Deng Nanqiao could even feel pain, his body had been cleaved in two.

*I’m dead?* Deng Nanqiao froze, his consciousness sinking forever into darkness. He had died so quickly, without a trace of sensation. Only when everything went black did he realize Lin Fan had already killed him.

"Is human nature really so unable to withstand a test?" Lin Fan smiled self-deprecatingly. *Born of the same root, why must we be so eager to destroy one another?*

"Third one."

...

"Damn it, I think I heard Huo Yuxiao and Deng Nanqiao scream!" Ma Shouyi was cleverer; he didn't try to fight, but instead ran toward the edge of the forest. The further he ran, the more terrified he became, feeling as though something was stalking him from behind.

"Bang!"

Ma Shouyi turned and fired a shot. The muzzle flash illuminated the ghostly mist, revealing desolate tombstones and pine-like ancient trees. He was not as foolish as Deng Nanqiao; he knew that constant firing only signaled his fear to the enemy.

"Someone! There’s a shadow!"

Ma Shouyi was shocked. By the light of the gunshot, he caught a glimpse of a dark figure, chasing him like a ghost. This made his heart sink, and he ran even faster.

*As long as I run out of this forest, I’ll live! Neither ghosts nor Lin Fan dare to leave the Forest of Steles!* Ma Shouyi screamed internally, running faster and faster. The sound of ghostly winds filled his ears. Finally, in the last moment, he saw the light outside the forest.

"Hahaha..."

Ma Shouyi laughed. He had won; he had escaped the haunted forest, and Lin Fan could do nothing to him. Suddenly, he tripped. He fell hard to the ground, brought down by a grave—the fresh graves of Ma Yinan and Qi Yangxia.

"No!"

Their graves were right at the exit. Ma Shouyi was filled with boundless terror. He was only a step away, yet he had been tripped by two damned graves. Just as he started to scramble up—

"Squelch!"

A chill touched his neck, and it felt as if his whole body had taken flight. He saw the Forest of Steles looking like a massive tomb, he saw the deck of the Nether Ghost Ship, he saw a sea of blood... and he saw Huang Qiushan looking at him in horror.

Ma Shouyi’s body remained on the ground; his head had flown away.

"Fourth one."

"Only one left."

Just as Lin Fan turned to leave—

"Boom..."

"Hahaha, I’ve killed Lin Fan!"

Zhuo Qirui’s laughter erupted. He had been hiding at the entrance of the forest the entire time, waiting to ambush him. He held a heavy blade found on the Nether Ghost Ship; it weighed two hundred pounds, and a single strike was enough to fell a god. He had waited for Lin Fan to pass, and sure enough, as Lin Fan finished off Ma Shouyi, he struck.

"Squelch!"

As expected, Lin Fan’s left shoulder was instantly soaked in blood. The blade lodged into his shoulder blade, missing his neck by a hair's breadth. A moment ago, Lin Fan had sensed the danger and tilted his head, avoiding a lethal blow.

Looking back, he saw a freckled man gripping a pitch-black blade, eyeing him with a sinister look. This was Zhuo Qirui, Huang Qiushan’s loyal lackey.

"Die!"

Lin Fan endured the pain, channeling his internal energy into the Pure Yang Sword. The blade glowed with a brilliant, shimmering light that cut through the air like a silver river. With a backhanded thrust, he pierced Zhuo Qirui’s chest. The man’s laughter stopped abruptly; he looked down to see his chest run through, the vitality in his eyes slowly fading away.