Four mutant champions; two dead and two maimed.
For all Wu Kejin’s confidence and cool, Chu Xun had shredded his plan in its infantile stage.
The ashen-pale face of the Ninth Presbyter of the Winged race illustrated his devastating despair at once again being at the Devil’s mercy.
The Winged race had been so glorious when it first emerged.
But since the Devil’s advent into the fold, the Wingeds had suffered nothing but a string of unfortunate events: he took their Reality Painting and the Suan Ni True Blood, their Legion was utterly decimated with only a paltry few of their number barely surviving, and now, he was once again soundly defeated with his Fan of Cosmos now seized by him, and he would never escape unscathed this time, by the looks of it.
“We Peacocks have no quarrel with you, Devil! You cannot kill me!” cried Kong Tengfei, who could not come to terms with his own imminent death. He had been magnificent since the Peacock made their appearance to the world and had always been so and he wished that one day, he could dominate like a king. Dying here was certainly the last thing he ever wanted.
Even so, things don’t always go as planned.
“No quarrel?” Chu Xun smirked, “You think I don’t know about your plans?”
He had no more patience for banter; he expeditiously executed the last two champions and beheaded them.
Chu Xun never gave his enemies any chance to bite him back and even though these two champions were as good as completely infirmed, he would only sleep better knowing they were dead.
Too many battles have been lost because the victors gloated too much and too soon, giving their opponents the chance to rebound and Chu Xun never intended to make that mistake.
The morning sun was well off the faraway horizon by now.
Chu Xun destroyed the carcasses before slipping back to a nearby town.
The day passed quickly.
Later that night, Chu Xun watched in the direction of Nether Mountain. Tomorrow would be the eve of the Ghost Festival.
Chu Xun never met Wu Kejin before and he knew better than to underestimate him.
First things first, he did not even know why was Wu Kejin rounding up the Lost Races into an alliance against him anyway, and that he plotted to attack his family showed how ruthless and brutal a person he could be.
Long and hard he raked his mind, and still, to remember Wu Kejin had ever appeared in his life and he was certain he never knew him before.
“Whoever you are, Wu Kejin,” growled Chu Xun quietly to himself, “Your doom is at hand.”
This was a man who harbored malicious if not murderous intent about him and that was enough for Chu Xun to eliminate him.
The night drifted silently.
And the peace gave Chu Xun the chance to recover to his top form.
Chu Xun could have not been any more careful with an enemy that he hardly knew anything about except that he could be as devious and vicious as a snake.
He had his fair share about broken plans and backstabbing after three thousand years in the alien world.
And if he had learned anything there, that would be to never underestimate any opponents.
The following day came.
It was the eve of the Ghost Festival, the fourteenth day of the seventh lunar month.
Only this year, the atmosphere was a stark contrast from before.
For this year’s Ghost Festival coincided with the much-hyped Crusade Against Evil
Eyes from all over the world were locked on this affair.
To slay Evil, or be slain by this so-called Evil; that was the crux of the furor.
This alliance of the Lost Races might be formidable and strong to behold, but no one could dare bet against the Devil.
With the finest champions of the Lost Races sent to deal with Chu Xun’s loved ones, the rest of the lesser alien mutants were now at Wu Kejin’s disposal.
A Peacock soared in the daybreak sky, flying over the quiet little borough.
Chu Xun recognized her. That was Kong Ying.
Kong Ying hovered proudly in the air, peering down at the human townsfolk under her feet like insects.
“By leave of Master Wu, everyone is cordially invited to come uphill to bear witness to this Crusade!”
There was quite a stir in the town. The message injected adrenaline into the otherwise peaceful little town.
“The Lost Races inviting humans to watch the Crusade?! Is this real or is something nefarious afoot?!”
“Rest assured that none of you will be harmed no matter what the outcome is. This I so swear, upon the honor of my race as Peacocks!”
That seemed to have done the trick; the townsfolk huddling to listen to her stirred with anticipation and excitement to watch what could be the most incredible battle they would ever watch.
“Is that for real?” asked a warrior.
Irate that she had to repeat herself, Kong Yi burst out, “As if I would make a joke over the honor of my race! In fact, the event tonight will be broadcasted live to the whole world.”
She flapped her wings and flew away, puffing.
The townsfolk and warriors chattered all day long with mounting enthusiasm.
“I don’t like that tone. She’s speaking as if the Devil is certain to lose.”
“I’m going. I’m going to cheer for Chu Xun. He’s fighting for us humans and we need to have his back or the alien mutants will think we’re pushovers.”
“Amen to that! The Devil fights for our side and he has whooped their backsides so much that they’re so afraid, so they come up with this farce. I’m coming too. We need to show these beasts that we humans are not to be trifled with. We need to cheer for the Devil!”
“Count me in. I’m coming too.”
The discussion was joined by more cries of solidarity as even more people pledged to join the throng to come.
Chu Xun saw his chance and he slipped into their midst.
The bog marshlands turned out to be an obstacle.
Many warriors had to stop there.
The mob numbered almost four to five hundred warriors, each of them with various strengths and powers.
Those below the ranks of Human King found it hard to traverse the treacherous swamplands and they had to stop.
The obstacle bogged down nearly half the number, with only a little more than two hundred Human Kings making it over.
And halfway through the quagmire, the mob came under attack by wild beasts and mutated insects. That brought the number further down to barely more than a hundred.
SPLASH!
Mud sprayed into the air and a three-meter-long giant alligator burst out of the swamp and attacked a lesser Human King right beside Chu Xun.
Chu Xun instinctively swatted at the raging beast with a bolt that easily blasted the poor animal into bits.
“Luo Yuan of the Brotherhood of Gusty Gales. Thank you so much, my friend,” gasped the man in gratitude.
Chu Xun waved off the gesture easily.
“Well done, young friend. We humans should stick together and show those alien races that we’re not weaklings,” said an elderly Seventh-grade Human King up ahead.
Chu Xun smiled. Now in his guise as a common-looking young man, no one knew that the main event of the Crusade was lurking here unseen.
“Are you here to cheer for the Devil, friend?” Luo Yuan tried to strike up a conversation, eager to build rapport with the savior who had just saved him.
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Chu Xun nodded wordlessly.
“That old friend up ahead speaks truly. If only all humans band together, we would not have needed to fear these alien races in the first place.”
“Amen to that. Chu Xun alone had single-handedly destroyed their army. If all of us all band together, there’s no way we’d lose,” quipped a Fifth-grade Human King just upfront, turning his head back to join the banter.
“The reason for this so-called Crusade is clear: these alien races are afraid of Chu Xun. His name alone keeps them honest. I daresay we should jump in and help in case anything happens to him,” added another Eighth-grade Human King.
“That’s what I think too. These alien mutants would have been even worse if not for Chu Xun. Therefore, he must survive.”
“Well, the way I see it, we need a response. The alien races can come up with this Crusade, we might as well come up with something of our own: a brotherhood, perhaps? The Humanist Brotherhood that strives to support Chu Xun.”
This motion won much agreement and applause from the warriors.
So conceived the Humanist Brotherhood, a new brotherhood formed specially to support Chu Xun who has been fighting for the human cause.
By this time, the members of this newly-birthed Brotherhood, when they finally waded out of the swamp marshes and began stepping up the slopes of Nether Mountain, numbered to more than two hundred at most.
They clambered uphill.
Kong Ying appeared suddenly.
“And here I was, thinking that you are too faint-hearted to make the climb?”
She observed dryly with apparent scorn.
But with most of the humans present all Human Kings, they could not stand being ridiculed as such, and they retorted furiously.
“As if there’s anything for us to be afraid of here. We’d come even if this is your lair!”
The remark left Kong Ying seething like a puffed-up hen, making the warriors burst out with boisterous laughter.
“Watch your tongue, or I’ll have to teach you some manners!” hissed Kong Ying coldly.
“I’d like to see you try. You invited us up here, remember? Or is this your manner of hospitality, mutant?”
“You worthless brat of a young girl. We don’t have any interest in bandying words with you. Go fetch your leader!”
A fresh young fledgling like Kong Ying could never hope to best these Human Kings in slippery debate. They all had several hundred years of practice and miffed beyond words, Kong Ying’s chest heaved again and again as she panted for breath.
“I’m warning you: stay where you are. Stray any further and we’d make sure you pay,” snorted Kong Ying and she swiveled around and stormed off.
Moments later, they were joined by hordes of mutants of all races – the Peacocks, the Wingeds, the Zombies, and the Draconians.
“What? Are these all that’s left of the mighty Lost Races? Where have all your champions gone to?”
One of the warriors remarked when he realized that all of the mutants present were but merely lesser-ranked Human Kings.
“Maybe because they’re champions, so they want a late appearance to make themselves seem more impressive,” commented another.
The crowd of mutants parted suddenly, making way.
A lean and tall man in dark-obsidian robes, an ordinary-looking young man strode casually forward.
Yet despite his mundane appearance, no one could deny that they found the smug look he was wearing appeared irritating.
“I am Wu Kejin. Welcome to the Crusade Against Evil.”
Chu Xun’s glare turned frosty.
“All right, that’s enough theatrics for now. Now call out your champions!” cried a human warrior.
“There are no champions here. Only me,” chuckled Wu Kejin.
“What do you mean? That you’re dueling the Devil alone?” yelled another voice, rousing up peals of laughter.
“Indeed I am. But this is not a duel. This is an execution,” said Wu Kejin coolly.
The Brotherhood stared at him quietly for seconds before they burst out guffawing again.
“Execution?! You gotta be joking!”
“Do you think I’m joking?” Wu Kejin said, as serene as a lake.
“Even if all of you mutants put together, the Devil might still defeat you all. And here you believe that you will defeat him alone?”
“Whether this is fantasy or not, we’d know once the Devil appears,” said Wu Kejin, ever so deadpan.
The human warriors finally simmered down, their rowdy jeers stifled by Wu Kejin’s arrogant and confident reticence.
For all the ridicules and jeers they hurled at him, he sounded mightily serious.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” asked someone finally.
“What impertinence. Master Wu is the leader of this Crusade and you better accord him the courtesy and deference that befits him if you know what’s good for you!” barked Kong Ying.
HUH?!
The statement shocked everyone.
“Wu Kejin’s the true mastermind of this Crusade?!”
The crowd of human warriors all fell silent. It did not take a genius to make out that to be able to unite all of the Lost Races under one banner, for it was a task that only a powerful or highly manipulative figure could ever hope to perform.
None of them would gladly obey him if he had not the intellectual faculties and fighting prowess to keep them tamed.
“Are you a mutant too?” asked a warrior.
Wu Kejin shook his head.
“I’m not one of the Lost Races, nor am I human. Technically, I’m one of the Immortals.”
Immortals?!
Many were left bewildered. “Since when do we have Immortals here on Earth?!”
In his amazement, Chu Xun thought, “Immortals?! Is he related to the Assembly?!”
“Is the Assembly appearing once more?”
“What about the mutant champions? Where are they?”
Another warrior asked the question. Even if Wu Kejin wished to deal with Chu Xun alone, surely he would need the champions to prevent the humans from anything untoward? Yet until now, none of them seemed to be around.
“They have their allotted mission to carry out,” answered Wu Kejin. Strangely, despite his smugness, he answered every question tossed his way.
“So you intend to take on the Devil alone? Are you confident that you’re that good?” asked another warrior, voicing out the main question looming in everyone’s minds.
“I AM that good,” replied Wu Kejin pensively, with an arrogance that belied his flat tone.
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But the response incensed every warrior who heard him. “What an arrogant man!”
“Be careful of what you wish for,” jeered someone, “Wait till the Devil arrives. You better hope you’re as good as you say, or you’re in for a round of embarrassment and a whipped arse.”
“The Devil,” Wu Kejin smirked derisively, “You place too much stock in him. He’s nothing but a brute. Killing him is a cakewalk.”
And before anyone could ask anything else, the look in his eyes turned vicious and dangerous and his aura burgeoned like a humongous behemothic monster.
Everyone’s faces shifted with terror. The aura pouring out of Wu Kejin came with the force of a tidal wave, its mere intensity and pressure suffocating everyone that even their hearts trembled.