Chapter 61
The Night of the mad killer
Sai Mo smiled as he took his first steps through the gates of Fire Phoenix City, a place whose lights shimmered at night like living flames dancing across its towers and palaces.
He had changed greatly since the past. No longer was he that weak boy who once leaned on a crutch; now he stood tall and strong—around one hundred and seventy-five centimeters—with a solid, muscular frame like a mountain carved from stone. His sharp features bore the marks of life's trials and suffering. His long black hair was tied neatly behind his head, emphasizing the sternness of his face. His clothes were elegant and dignified, reflecting both his strength and his newfound composure.
He entered the city with steady steps, yet his heart burned with an unending fire. From the moment he arrived, he began gathering information—about the Lord, his brother, and their family—following every lead, large or small, to piece together the truth before exacting his revenge.
What he first heard were the popular tales—the stories people whispered in markets, taverns, and every corner of the city.
The most famous among them said that the great General Luo Sui, the Lord's brother, had learned through his sources that the Red Light Village was plotting a major rebellion against the city and its kindhearted ruler.
According to the legend, the general personally went with a group of his brave soldiers to verify the truth. At first, he tried to reason with the villagers—he pleaded, persuaded, and did all he could to dissuade them—but his efforts were in vain. With no other choice, he was forced to fight.
A long battle ensued, lasting hours, ending with the general's death—betrayed by one of the "rebels" who used a vile technique. Thus, according to the official tale, the noble general died defending his city and his people.
That was the story everyone knew—the tale people glorified and sang in the streets.
But the truth… was known only to Sai Mo.
Every time he heard those stories and how they praised that "filthy wretch," anger devoured his heart more and more, until it felt as if the fire that burned his village had never gone out, but rather lived inside him, feeding his hatred.
He spent an entire day in the city, and all he heard were praises for General Luo Sui—called a hero, a martyr. No one spoke a single word about the Red Light Village or its people, as if they had never existed—as if their memory had been erased by the hands of power.
Then he began hearing scattered whispers about the Forest of Dreams—a strange, dreadful place said to be the very site where the Red Light Village once stood before it was crushed and buried under darkness.
Many adventurers and treasure seekers had tried entering the forest to uncover its secrets, but none had ever returned. Even the Lord himself had sent men there, and none came back.
A terrifying incident had even occurred a month before Sai Mo's arrival: a single man had managed to emerge from the forest alive… only to massacre his family and relatives before taking his own life in a gruesome manner.
From that day, the Lord of Fire Phoenix City ordered a massive iron wall built around the cursed land, forbidding anyone from entering it. And so, the place earned its grim new name—the Forest of Dreams.
When Sai Mo remembered the giant dark dome that had once covered his village's sky on that accursed night, sorrow tightened around his heart. He sighed deeply, burdened by grief and bitterness.
After days of investigation, he managed to uncover much of the truth. He learned that the destruction of the Red Light Village had not been ordered by the Lord himself, but was instead a conspiracy orchestrated by his vile brother, Luo Sui, along with several of his men and a handful of powerful nobles who stood to gain from the massacre.
That night… a dark shadow moved through the city—swift as a raging wind, unseen by any eye. That shadow was Sai Mo, beginning his revenge with icy calm.
He slipped through the nobles' mansions like a ghost, entering and leaving without a trace. He knew his targets well, having already learned who the true culprits were. He killed only those who had plotted and participated, sparing the innocent.
At last, he reached his final target—one of the Lord's relatives, an old man who lived within the grand palace.
Sai Mo's steps quickened. He knew this was his only chance. If he hesitated now, by dawn the nobles' deaths would be discovered, and the city would drown in soldiers and guards, making his mission impossible.
He understood clearly—this was the decisive moment, the final act. Once his vengeance was complete, he could return to Hayden and live in peace. His heart cried out for rest—to end this bloody path once and for all.
> "Not all humans are demons. Some seek revenge only to quiet their pain, then live peacefully afterward. But others… they can never be satisfied. They would burn the entire world for the death of a single person."
Sai Mo was of the first kind. If not for Hayden's guiding hand in the past, he might have fallen into the second—becoming a merciless killer, consumed by hatred. But Hayden's teachings, his discipline and words, had preserved Sai Mo's humanity and set him on a different path.
Sai Mo gripped a small, slender iron needle and dashed toward the palace like lightning. He moved between corridors filled with guards and servants, blending into the shadows as if he himself were part of them.
After a long search, he finally found his target—the old man, stepping out of his bedchamber.
Without hesitation, Sai Mo flicked the needle. It pierced the man's neck at a precise point, paralyzing him instantly. The old man couldn't even scream; Sai Mo had also struck the points controlling his voice.
He rushed forward, caught the man's trembling body, and pushed him back into the room, closing the door behind them. He intended to finish the job there—away from prying eyes.
But what Sai Mo did not expect… was that the room belonged to a young girl.
His eyes fell upon the bed, where a small girl slept soundly, her face peaceful and innocent like that of an angel. The old man's expression twisted with sorrow and desperation as he looked at Sai Mo and whispered brokenly:
"Please… I beg you… Don't harm her. Do whatever you want to me, but spare her… please."
For a brief moment, Sai Mo's heart trembled—but then the anger within him erupted once more. His voice was low and rough as he spoke:
"Tell me, you wretch—did you spare even one child from the Red Light Village? Did you leave a woman or man, an elder or an infant alive? No… you slaughtered them all without mercy! Your cursed Lord killed every innocent soul there, and now you beg for mercy?"
The old man's eyes widened as realization struck. He finally understood who this killer was—not a hired assassin, but one of the children from the village they had annihilated.
He stammered weakly, pleading, "Please… my son…"
But Sai Mo cut him off with a pained, trembling voice: "No… don't call me that! The only man who had the right to say it—you killed him!"
The old man's face darkened further, his expression contorted with despair. With the last of his strength, he whispered, voice shaking:
"Listen… I never wanted to take part in that cursed night. I was forced to! I swear it! All I ask is that you spare my daughter—Mai Yu… please…"
But Sai Mo gave him no chance. The needle had struck a vital point that slowly drained the man's life away. Within moments, his body weakened, trembling as his breath grew shallow.
Despite his paralysis, the old man summoned his final ounce of strength to turn his head toward the bed, gazing at his daughter one last time. His lips moved weakly, blood trickling down as he whispered:
"Farewell… my daughter… forgive your foolish father… for failing to protect you."
And with that, he breathed his last, collapsing lifeless before Sai Mo's eyes.
Sai Mo's heart pounded violently, torn by turmoil. Should he kill the girl as well, severing all ties to his past? Or should he honor his promise to Hayden—not to kill the innocent, not to lose himself to vengeance?
As his mind battled itself, Hayden's words echoed within him. Gradually, he calmed. He chose to spare her.
But just then, the girl opened her eyes and saw the scene before her.
She stared at him in horror, then lifted her gaze above his head—as if seeing something unseen by anyone else. It was as though she saw her father's shadow standing beside Sai Mo, smiling faintly in farewell.
The girl trembled, her lips parting for a scream—but Sai Mo moved swiftly and struck the side of her neck gently, plunging her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
He stood there for a moment, staring at her, his expression twisted with sorrow and guilt. Then, without another word, he turned and vanished into the night like a phantom.
That cursed, blackened night became forever known as The Night of the Sovereign of Death.
Sixty-eight people were slain—most of them nobles, the rest high-ranking officials and powerful men.
No one ever learned who was behind the massacre. But the entire city whispered the same name for the mysterious killer who brought death to their doors—
The Mad Killer.
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