Chapter 324: Crows

“Whew—fi... finally dead?”

In the woods, shadows swayed.

Liya slowly rose from a crouch, letting out a long breath.

That breath went out so very, very deep, as if she meant to drive every last bit of air out of her lungs.

But the violent heartbeat still... refused to calm.

She lowered her head and looked at her own hands.

Those slender, scallion-pared little hands were now stained red with blood.

Stained with someone else’s blood.

She had killed someone.

Her first kill.

“Urgh...”

Liya suddenly felt her stomach heave like a storm-tossed sea.

Out of the corner of her eye, Barton’s deathly pale, lifeless face still held disbelief and hate. In his chest, the gaping hole carved and seared open by the Blade of Holy Light turning too hard, too many times, stared like an eye from the abyss, fixed upon her.

Having chosen the Saintess’s path of saving the people and leading countless believers forward, Liya had thought she would go her whole life without ever touching the words “to kill.”

But she hadn’t expected...

“Uu... so scary, so scary.”

The feel of a blade driving into flesh, the way blood spattered, and Barton’s curses, pleading, and screams at the edge of death kept tangling and tangling in Liya’s little head.

That feeling—she really did not want to experience it again.

But... this wasn’t the time to be thinking about that.

Liya reached out and closed Barton’s eyes that would not die shut, then shook her head hard, driving every mixed-up thought out of her mind.

She lifted her head and looked into the deep darkness in the distance. Her gaze... grew firm.

“Wait for me, Muen.”

Liya stepped forward with equal resolve:

“I’m going right now. Before I get there, please, please don’t let anything happen.”

...

...

After Liya left.

The forest returned to silence.

Sunlight poked out from behind the dark clouds and fell on the clearing where giant trees had been felled, leaving the place especially ravaged.

“Caw—”

Suddenly, a sharp crow’s cry shattered the stillness.

And what woke with it was also...

Barton.

“Shit, cough cough, that crazy bitch finally left?”

In sunlight that wasn’t even all that scorching, Barton—whose heart had already become a gaping hole and who by rights should have been dead beyond dead—actually... opened his eyes.

He had come back to life.

No—he had never died in the first place.

“Shit shit shit shit, one more inch and I really would’ve capsized in that slut’s hands.”

Barton’s face twisted hideously; he gnashed his teeth.

Getting a blade formed of Holy Light rammed into your chest and then cruelly twisted around several times—there’s no world where that’s a particularly pleasant experience.

“Good thing I still had a backhand.”

He lifted a trembling hand; with a backward pat, a heart that looked as if carved from stone appeared in his palm.

The eerie part was that this stone heart was slowly pulsing, as if it were really pumping fresh blood.

Barton slowly set this stone heart into the cavity in his left chest.

Once inside, the Stone Heart strangely fused with the torn blood vessels, beating powerfully as if it truly were his heart.

Barton let out a long breath; a touch of color finally crept back onto his face.

Ancient Relic · Stone Heart.

Its effect is that when one’s own heart suffers some irreparable damage, on the “Renren Bookhouse” APP you can read The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix’s Novels Also Desires Happiness’s latest ad-free updated chapters; over a million books are all free to read. “renrenshuku.com”—spell out “renrenshuku dot com” to access the APP’s official site—he can use it in place of his own heart, becoming a new heart.

And not only heart damage—no matter the cause of the injury, so long as one is in a state of mortal peril, it can temporarily help keep one’s life hanging on, and by swapping hearts, it can extend its owner’s life.

A very powerful Ancient Relic.

Back when Barton killed that annoying old bastard in his own family and had no way to heaven or earth with the Empire’s hounds chasing him, he stumbled upon these two Ancient Relics deep in a cave—and only then did he forge the fearsome fame of Barton the Corpse-Cutter.

The other Ancient Relic was, of course, that bracelet with the power to sever all things.

Except...

Thinking of that bracelet, Barton turned his head with difficulty and looked at the pile of scraps on the ground. His cheek twitched hard; his face twisted hideously again.

That Ancient Relic no longer existed either.

In just a few short minutes, the most important thing propping up his name as the Corpse-Cutter had turned into a heap of useless dregs.

“Damn it damn it damn it! You little **, I will... I, Barton the Corpse-Cutter, will make you wish you were dead!”

Barton’s eyes went blood-red as he spat vicious curses at the empty air:

“Just you wait. I’ll use the cruelest ways to torture you, make you regret what you did to me—absolutely!”

So what if he’d lost an Ancient Relic? He was still a Fourth Rank Warrior, a genuine Fourth Rank Warrior!

Next, I’ll personally—

No. That little **’s strength isn’t weak either; a head-on fight wouldn’t be wise.

So...

Family...

Yes, family, friends—anything at all. As long as they’re people that little ** cares about, I’ll grab them one by one, torture and ravage them, then leave recordings—together with things like eyeballs and ears—and send them to that little **...

Ha, haha, at that moment, that little **’s expression will definitely be spectacular, absolutely—

“Cough cough cough cough...”

Barton’s excited imaginings were cut off by a fit of weak coughing.

“Damn it...”

Barton rubbed at his chest.

The wound was healing slower than he’d thought, seemingly affected by the Holy Light.

But that was a small matter. The only real trouble was... using the Stone Heart did not come without a price.

As it becomes your heart, it siphons away half of your remaining lifespan—and all of your current strength.

Lifespan was indeed helpless to remedy, but at least strength could be recovered.

With the help of some potions and magic stones he had stored, it would take roughly half an hour to get back to moving freely.

That wasn’t much.

Although for the moment he was just a powerless ordinary man—

But with the shockwaves from his earlier battle with that little ** still rippling through the area, there shouldn’t be any blind Aberrants around who would—

Barton’s gaze drifted idly—and happened to crash into a... scarlet eye.

“Holy shit, what the hell!”

Feeling like the heart he’d just installed almost leapt back out again, Barton stared, rattled to the core. Focusing, he discovered the owner of that scarlet eye was...

A crow.

One of the forest’s peculiar, half-man-tall giant crows had folded its wings and was hop-hop-hopping to a stop beside him, cocking its head, staring straight at him.

“F*ck, scared me half to death.”

Barton frowned, lifted his hand, and waved to shoo it off:

“Get lost, you damned crow, or I’ll drain your blood in a bit!”

“...”

The crow ignored Barton’s shooing and threats, letting that hand fall on its body.

So powerless.

A humanlike glint of mockery flashed through those scarlet eyes.

“Caw—”

It suddenly spread its wings and cried out loud.

“Hm?”

Barton froze—then his expression shifted slightly.

Because more caws began to echo through the surrounding trees.

“Caw—”

“Caw—”

“Caw—”

A black flood rolled in, wheeling over Barton’s head, blotting out the sun.

They were countless, a vast flock of crows.

Then the crows dropped one after another—onto broken trunks, onto shattered stones, and down... beside Barton.

The light vanished.

Barton was surrounded by crows.

Every crow cocked its head, staring straight at Barton with scarlet pupils.

Like they were eyeing a steaming, all-you-can-eat buffet.

“You... you... you all...”

The color drained from Barton’s face again, leaving him paper-white.

Because he suddenly remembered—there were no normal creatures in this forest.

So even these crows that, aside from being a bit large, had nothing special about them were actually vicious Aberrants.

Before, he could have crushed these dumb birds in his palm without a thought.

But now, he didn’t even have the strength to stand.

And it was obvious.

Just as his ambush on Muen by the lake had been wrecked by these damned crows, the crows bore grudges.

“Caw—”

The slightly larger crow that had landed first hop-hopped onto Barton’s chest.

Its scarlet eye reflected Barton’s terrified face.

But Barton no longer had time to say anything.

The crow dipped its head and pecked. When its slender beak lifted again, it was already holding... an eyeball.

Barton’s eyeball.

“Ah—”

Barton screamed, but the scream was quickly drowned by the crows’ excited cries.

With the lead crow calling again—like the bell announcing the cafeteria doors flung open—the long-hungry diners surged forward. Amid screams wrung from the utmost pain and despair, sharp beaks and claws set about enjoying a feast of fresh blood.

...

Not long after, that slightly larger crow—its feathers darker and glossier, its eyes more lively—spread its wings and took off.

It did not partake of the feast, because the flesh and blood of mere humans were somewhat filthy to its taste.

Its wings skimmed past countless giant trees, then it suddenly paused somewhere.

Scarlet eyes reflected several figures locked in fierce combat.

After watching for a while, its gaze lingered several times on one particular golden-haired figure. Then it spread its wings again and skimmed away in silence.

This time, it flew very fast, like a streak of pitch-black lightning.

Giant trees, lakes, and mists raced backward behind it.

At last, it reached a towering mountain peak.

Half the mountain was buried under dazzling snow and storms; it slipped easily through that forbidden zone no ordinary person could cross and reached the very top.

No wind; utter stillness.

Only a vast crater like a volcano’s mouth—pure black, bottomless.

It glided into the hollow and then settled again—on a mountain.

“Caw—”

It opened its beak.

And the thing it had been holding there dropped naturally down.

It was not the eyeball from before, but... a heart.

A heart as if carved from stone.

Thump, thump, thump, thump...

The Stone Heart rolled along the mountain’s edge all the way down.

The faint glimmers it gave off lit the mountain’s true form.

It was a mountain piled from uncountable bronzes, gold, gems, blades, Ancient Relics, treasure beyond what dynasties could amass through generations... and bones.

And from the blurred shapes not far off, this was not the only such mountain.

Clang.

The Stone Heart rolled to the very «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» bottom and struck something, making a crisp sound.

A brief silence again.

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A deep hum rose from the darkness, like countless bellows drawing in a vast volume of air at once.

The mountain trembled.

In that instant, all darkness was driven away.

Because a pair of supremely majestic golden pupils lit up, like two blazing suns, looking down on everything.