Chapter Twelve: I, Jiang Yida, Am Willing to Die for You!

Jet-black blood, obscured as if censored, spurted from Jiang Lin’s wounded neck. As his pixelated, indistinct head rolled to the ground, his wide eyes—filled with confusion and disbelief—stared unseeingly into the void. With the death of his body and the dissipation of his cultivation, Jiang Lin, once a master of the Cave Abode stage, dissolved into myriad motes of spiritual light, returning to nature…

In the next instant, several figures garbed in black appeared before the woman.

“You monsters! She had no quarrel with you—why such cruelty?” the veiled woman cried, clutching her chest as blood slowly trickled from the corner of her mouth. Guilt brimmed in her eyes as she beheld the body dissolving on the ground, her hatred for the black-clad assailants intensifying.

“Ha! Anyone associated with the Carefree Sect must die! Besides, she just saw your face,” one of them sneered.

“You fiends! I swear upon the Dream Eternal that one day I shall avenge my sect’s destruction!” she spat, voice trembling with fury and grief.

“Vengeance? You’ll have no chance,” another said coldly.

“Indeed. If you behave, and let us have our fun, we might grant you a quick death.” One of them licked his lips, advancing step by step.

A sharp chime echoed across Xuanwu City’s night sky, clear as a coin striking stone.

Elsewhere, Jiang Lin, newly resurrected within a nearby pavilion, was perched atop the eaves, quietly observing the chaos. Just as he hid, a flash of swordlight hurtled in his direction. Jiang Lin swiftly dodged, landing lightly on the ground.

“Damn it! If I’d known it’d be this messy, I’d have revived farther away,” he muttered.

Now, Jiang Lin wore a thin mask to conceal his handsome features. Dressed in a flowing white robe, his tall, graceful figure looked striking under the moonlight.

“Are you planning to interfere, sir?” one of the black-clad men demanded, sword drawn and murderous intent clear, as he watched the white-robed figure standing at ease beneath the moon.

“Interfere? I was merely passing—”

“Sir, leave quickly! You’re no match for them! I, Xiao Xueli, would rather perish than let them sully my honor!” the woman cried desperately.

Jiang Lin: “???”

“So, you truly wish to play the hero?” the black-clad man jeered.

“No, actually, I don’t—”

“Then take this!” Before Jiang Lin could finish, another swordlight slashed toward him.

[What the hell! Won’t you let a man finish a sentence?] Jiang Lin cursed inwardly as he faced the oncoming strike. All he’d done was take in the situation out of idle curiosity—since when were villains in this world so direct, attacking without even a few lines of threatening banter?

The sword’s tip came within a hair’s breadth of Jiang Lin’s forehead.

He considered evading, or perhaps letting himself be killed again and respawning somewhere safer—after all, this didn’t concern him. But just then…

A spring breeze lifted the girl’s veil.

In that instant, as he glimpsed her face, the mission appeared.

[Ding…]

[Protagonist scenario triggered: The protagonist, Xiao Xueli, is a direct disciple of the Carefree Sect, blessed with supreme talent and a Celestial Bone. Pursued after the sect’s destruction at the hands of the Defeated Demon Cult, in the coming century, Xiao Xueli will bathe the nine provinces in the blood of all demonic sects. Lin Qingwan will slay the host countless times, scattering his ashes, before ascending to the Dao…]

“Clang!” At the very moment the swordtip brushed the fine hairs between Jiang Lin’s brows, he caught the attacker’s blade with his own flying sword, knocking it aside.

His sword, pristine as snow and ice, hovered by his side and gleamed fiercely in the moonlight.

“A life-bound flying sword! You’re a sword cultivator!” the black-clad man exclaimed, looking at the white-robed stranger gazing up at the moon.

Cultivators fell into three categories: ordinary cultivators, sword cultivators, and the purely martial, who were not considered true cultivators at all. Of these, sword cultivators were the most formidable, the least reasonable, and the most demanding in entry requirements.

“Does it matter whether I am or not?” Jiang Lin replied, gazing at the moon at a forty-five-degree angle, feeling a surge of helplessness.

Why, he wondered, did he always stumble across protagonists, even when simply taking a stroll? And why did every protagonist swear to eradicate all demonic sects, dragging the Sun and Moon Sect into the calamity?

Granted, the Sun and Moon Sect was considered a demonic sect, but their motto was “win hearts, never take innocent lives”—hardly the worst of the lot.

Did the Sun and Moon Sect ever eat your rice?

“If you’re a sword cultivator, state your name. I never kill the nameless!” the black-clad man declared.

“Jiang… Jiang Yida, of the Twin Pearl Peaks, Sun and Moon Sect!” Jiang Lin announced, shifting his gaze from the sky to the pale, elegant girl behind him.

“Sun and Moon Sect? Ha! So you’re one of those who toy with hearts but never kill? Strange cult, yours. But since when did you play the hero?” The black-clad man twirled his sword theatrically.

“Listen, kid. Since we’re both from the demonic path, I’ll let you walk away this time. Don’t meddle in my business!” he warned.

“Business?” Jiang Lin echoed.

“Of course! My rocket launcher’s about to go off—move aside if you value your life. Or, if you want in, I’ll let you have a turn for a hundred mid-grade spirit stones,” he sneered.

“Boss, no fair—I want the second turn!”

“Nonsense! Boss, it should be me next!”

“Silence!” the leader barked. At once his underlings quieted. He turned to Jiang Lin with a sly smile. “So, what’ll it be?”

Jiang Lin shook his head, regarding them with a look of mingled sympathy and derision. “You won’t lay a hand on her.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because I am here! I may walk the demonic path, yet my heart knows justice!” With a flourish, Jiang Lin raised his snowy sword, his long hair streaming behind him, cutting a figure almost divine.

Since time immemorial, no protagonist was ever truly defiled by mere minions—without fail, they would turn the tables, rise from the ashes, and awaken some miraculous power…

But that was something Jiang Lin could never say aloud; they’d never believe him anyway. All he could do was try to win the protagonist’s favor before her awakening.

“What did you say?” one thug scoffed. “Our boss tries to befriend you, and this is how you repay him? Get him!”

“Attack!” they roared, charging before Jiang Lin could deliver another grandiloquent line.

“Miss, remember this! Not all from the demonic sects are villains! I, Jiang Yida, would gladly die for you!”

“Don’t, sir!” the girl cried.

“Kill him!”

With a shout, Jiang Lin rushed forward. Damn, this is so unbelievably melodramatic. Still…

He glanced at the kneeling girl, her eyes brimming with worry. It seemed to be working.

Clash after clash echoed—steel striking steel, fists slamming, chaos erupting.

“MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA—!”

Jiang Lin fought furiously against the three black-clad underlings, each of them a Cave Abode cultivator like himself. The battle was fierce, but after ten breaths, Jiang Lin emerged victorious.

Just as he prepared to deliver another stirring speech, a sudden blow struck him from behind. Blood spurted from his lips as he collapsed before the girl…