Chapter 24: A Bloody Silent Night (Part Two)

On the high platform, dozens of warriors surged toward Xiu Yi.

The chanting of magic required time; although burning one’s spirit could ignore differences in rank, it could not ignore differences in numbers. Closing in quickly, killing the opponent swiftly—this was a principle every warrior understood.

Even if the foremost warriors lost their fighting power due to soul magic, those following seized the moment to launch a fierce assault.

Yet no one expected that the mysterious youth, who moments ago was but an ordinary mage, would suddenly engage in close-quarter combat like a warrior—charging into the mass of fighters like a tiger among sheep, unleashing a slaughter.

Their opponent was not only an alchemist, not only a mage, but also a warrior.

Having received guidance from two top warriors, Lancelot and Paget, Xiu Yi, though still a second-level warrior in terms of aura, had long surpassed the common ranks in skill, insight, and mastery of combat techniques.

The heavy, blunt greatsword was meant for cleaving attacks, yet in Xiu Yi’s hands, it seemed to possess the lightness of a breeze.

With a gentle swing, he deflected an incoming blow, spun with a graceful arc, and as he swept past his adversary, the blade’s edge slit the opponent’s throat, sending a fountain of blood soaring skyward.

At the same time, Xiu Yi continued to chant a heart-stirring incantation:

“The intersection of time and space, the binding of wheels and locks, the window of dimensions, the elusive gate, the world both void and real—open now for the summoner!”

His left hand traced a strange hexagram; in the next instant, as at least three warriors rushed him, they were astonished to find their foe had vanished. At the same moment, a faint shadow appeared behind the group.

With a downward slash, a warrior’s head flew into the air.

“Instant teleportation! He can teleport!” someone cried in terror.

“Void Slash!” Xiu Yi’s voice was calm and precise, matching his demeanor.

As the warriors turned to face the rear, Xiu Yi’s figure disappeared again, reappearing in his original position.

The greatsword swept across; the three warriors were cleaved through the chest in a single stroke, their organs spilling out with blood. They stared in disbelief at the youth whose movements were as elusive as a phantom.

“This is impossible! How can he teleport repeatedly?!” the warriors shouted.

Screams erupted across the open platform, the tremendous din echoing into the amphitheater above. Countless spectators looked up in astonishment.

Through the crystal curtain, they saw blood spraying like a fountain, a golden-haired youth fiercely retaliating against dozens of warriors pursuing him.

On stage, Turandot’s performance continued, the melody of “Nessun Dorma” drifting elegantly.

As if in harmony with that beautiful tune, the golden youth’s battle stance was graceful and striking.

It was as if, accompanied by exquisite music, he danced the lightest waltz upon this grand outdoor platform, using near-weightless steps to display astonishingly perfect killing skills.

Techniques that, upon reflection, sent shivers down one’s spine were executed by this youth with such elegance and artistry that the slaughter itself became a chilling masterpiece—a cruel, bloody work of art.

The waltz’s gentle rhythm was played, yet the performer was a messenger of death.

This was an elegant, resplendent court dance, but the dancer was a ruthless killer, surrounded by the corpses he created.

Whether they knew him or not, everyone was transfixed by Xiu Yi’s cruel, cold, and beautiful methods of killing; even the Violet Orchid Dance Troupe’s singers, in the midst of chanting, stared dumbfounded at the blood-soaked spectacle behind the curtain, losing control of their voices.

Daisy let out a spine-chilling aria, and Lanty’s once-light steps became heavy and awkward before Xiu Yi’s flowing, ethereal movements.

“My God, is that Fink?” someone murmured. Despite the distance, they could see the killer’s cold and handsome face.

“No, it can’t be him. Fink, it’s impossible,” Daisy cried, covering her mouth in terror.

Only Clarisse sighed and looked upward. She knew that was Fink Danito, also known as Xiu Yi Glair.

Her gaze was full of melancholy.

—The long-planned slaughter unfolded mercilessly on the open platform. With sword and magic, Xiu Yi proved his strength to all.

The warriors of the Brownie family were mostly novices, with only a few at the second level. They were no match for Xiu Yi, who possessed the Void Slash.

Blood splattered across the platform, and the cries of anguish pierced everyone’s heart.

With each warrior’s fall, Claude felt as if his heart was being ruthlessly squeezed.

No one had ever told him the fugitive alchemist was so powerful.

He was clearly only a second-level warrior, his magical rank not high, yet with these basic abilities, he created a miracle of slaughter.

If someone had told him before that an alchemist could so easily massacre his family’s warriors, he would have dismissed it as nonsense. But now, someone was proving with his sword and the blood of his men that rank was never so reliable—used wisely, even a weak lamb could be fiercer than a lion.

No, his opponent was no lamb.

(Compared to his own fierce warriors, this young boy seemed like a lone, helpless antelope facing a pack of savage wolves. Yet the one intoxicated by the thrill of slaughter was not the wolf.) This was a despairing irony—the most unbelievable joke in the history of the continent. To wield low-level martial skills with such extreme force and such elegance—Claude could not imagine what terror this youth would be when he gained greater power.

The laughable part was that he had still hoped to seize the youth’s treasures, to silence him forever.

Now, he had nearly destroyed all his family’s warriors in an instant.

When the last warrior fell beneath Xiu Yi’s sword, the entire platform fell into a deathly silence.

All the nobles stared at the young man who had just seemed so gentle and refined.

After the lion-like slaughter, the young man’s face finally showed fatigue.

But in his eyes, there was excitement.

It was a feeling of unrestrained satisfaction, the long-awaited sense that he had taken the first successful step in striking back against this empire.

Looking at Claude with a provocative gaze, Xiu Yi asked quietly,

“Do you… have anyone left?”

Claude’s heart sank to the depths.

The warriors outside the magic shield were under Abritt’s attack, while those on the platform had been slaughtered like melons and vegetables by Xiu Yi. The Brownie family faced an unprecedented crisis. Claude knew that after this, his family would likely never appear on the stage of history again.

Having offended Lord Abritt, no family could remain at ease in Leaf City.

Claude raised his head with a bitter smile, looking toward Xiu Yi:

“Xiu Yi Glair, I underestimated you. The Brownie family underestimated you. But I believe, no matter how strong you are, you cannot be Lord Abritt’s match. I can no longer explain this to the Lord, but he will never let you go. Perhaps you don’t know his temperament and methods—those who offend him never meet a good end.”

Xiu Yi smiled faintly.

He sheathed his blood-stained greatsword, golden hair fluttering in the wind, and strode down from the platform with proud bearing:

“From the moment I arrived, I never cared about Abritt. I am right here, not going anywhere. I’ll wait for him to come, and settle matters of life and death.”

On stage, Turandot’s drama was reaching its climax, the music growing grand and majestic. Xiu Yi softly hummed “Nessun Dorma,” his eyes brimming with an even sharper killing intent.

He stepped through mud and blood, over the many corpses, and began to dance joyfully right there.

Bloody footprints appeared, as if marking the rhythm of his dance.

Everyone’s gaze froze in that moment, as if time itself ceased to flow…

The pounding drums stirred the air, thundering like blows upon people’s hearts.

It was the drumroll for the Tartar prince’s walk to the scaffold in Turandot.

Though the stage performance continued, the audience’s thoughts were entirely fixed on the outdoor platform—the nobles’ gathering place.

A tall figure, draped in a purple cloak, ascended the winding stairs step by step.

Each step seemed to imprint itself on the heart.

The Lord of Leaf City, Abritt, a sixth-level spatial wizard, finally appeared.

After Xiu Yi cut off his teleportation with a magic shield, the master had to rely on his own feet to shoulder the heavy task of arriving.

Behind him, scores of Brownie warriors lay in pools of blood. When this wizard was enraged, his methods were ruthless and decisive.

Facing the shield that separated everyone and forbade passage, Abritt’s eyes showed a hint of admiration.

Through the shield, he looked at Xiu Yi, who had halted his dance and smiled back at him.

Abritt raised a finger, pointing at Xiu Yi—the gesture pierced the magic shield and entered, aiming directly at Xiu Yi.

He spoke: “You are the Xiu Yi Glair who stole from me?”

Xiu Yi offered an elegant bow: “Xiu Yi Glair respectfully welcomes the master. I have awaited you for a long time.”

“Very good. Very good.”

The next moment, Abritt strode into the shield, as if the barrier had no effect on him.

Curiously, as he entered, the shield suffered no damage at all, like a bubble with powerful self-repair.

After Abritt entered, both men looked at each other with eyes filled with curiosity, admiration, and intense killing intent.

This sentence is quoted from “The Magic Thief.”