Trying To Tame An Evil Overlord - Chapter 135 No words were said between them

Chen Leike’s laughter was light and airy, dispersing any anxiety Nan Chang might have. She giggled along with him, steering their shared steed as he swung around his meteor hammers.

And while Nan Chang trusted the uncanny fortune that was blessed upon Chen Leike’s being, she was not so careless to rely entirely on him. She at least had the mind to disperse the essence replicating talismans whenever they approached one of those tall towering beings.

“I’m so glad we met up with Sect Leader Zhao on our way here! Imagine if we just rushed into battle against these weird things without any useful tools,” Nan Chang giggled with wind in her hair. Her arm fanned out like she was about to twirl around in a dance, no anxiety nor concern clouding her movements.

“That wouldn’t happen, Xiao Chang’er, are you forgetting who I am?” Chen Leike raised a brow, leaning over her shoulder. His breath warmed the slope of her neck.

She rolled her eyes with a playful smile upon her lips, “You might be the Immortal of Luck, but Nan Chang is just Nan Chang. Even if Dagege survives, Nan Chang will be squashed. Like an ant. You know?”

The Immortal of Luck threw his head back in laughter, his meteor swinging around him in wide haphazard arcs. And yet they tore through the flesh and bones of any Fallen Gods it came upon, always hitting the part adorned with talismans.

“Don’t be silly my Xiao Chang’er, I will protect you, you know?” He winked at her suggestively.

And Nan Chang giggled loudly, her eyes sparkling with false innocence because she understood that Chen Leike’s words were hollow like his heart. Nan Chang sometimes wondered if her heart was also empty, and perhaps that was why they made such a fantastic match. In bed, of course. Shamelessly, she leaned back into his broad chest and allowed him to take the lead.

Despite melting into his hold and keeping her voice girlish and dumb, Nan Chang’s words were pointed, “Is Young Master Chen really reliable enough to protect Nan Chang?”

He raised a brow, not quite catching her meaning. Wasn’t his fortune the most reliable thing in the world? It might as well be.

But Nan Chang continued to giggle, “Dagege, I really like you but look around. Isn’t Sect Leader Peng doing most of the work here?”

“Hmm…” Chen Leike hummed lazily as he looked up, finally paying attention to the state of his surroundings.

In fact, Peng Zhugen was rushing into battle like a total madman, corralling the Fallen Gods and slaying up to two or three at once. His poor comrades were doing their best to keep up, only to be knocked aside by the Hidden Mist Sect Leader’s violent winds and violent moods.

A dark cloud had fallen upon that man ever since he received news about his home. And Chen Leike understood to some degree (or not at all) but seriously, did Peng Zhugen really have to be in such a down and depressing mood, making the lives of everyone around him miserable.

Traveling with him had been awful, from the snipping responses to the glaring eyes and even attempted murder in plain daylight that no one even reacted to! For the first time in Chen Leike’s entire life, he thought fate was messing around with him, just for being stuck with one awful Peng Zhugen.

“Do you not find him unpleasant?” Chen Leike steered his horse, circling wide to avoid large groups of foes. The Immortal of Luck was feeling both lazy and little petty. If Peng Zhugen were so eager to face off the Fallen Gods, then Chen Leike would allow him to do just that.

With luck as mighty as his own, Chen Leike was almost certain that when the time came, he would be able to rack up credit and avoid blame for any misdoing either way.

Nan Chang was no fool and saw through the Young Master Chen immediately. He was a man with a bad personality, but one that was predictable and easy to please. So Nan Chang did just that, nestle her petite body against him and kept an easy smile.

So long as she did that, she was confident in their chances of greeting the following dawn.

Meanwhile, Chen Leike’s younger brother, Chen Jiang, could not claim to have the same infamous fortune his brother was known to have.

He was dripping with sweat, panic thick. Though he’d already taken a restorative pill, the sharp pain in his chest refused to leave him be. Each breath he took was intense and agonizing! Each step he took was full of suffering! Who could even blame him for hiding and fleeing?

It was for the better too! Because everyone else was dead. Solely Chen Jiang had survived the onslaught of Fallen Gods… and that mysterious Heavenly Sword Sect Elder that went and turned on them! Killing off any remaining survivors among their troops. How lucky was it for Chen Jiang to escape, hidden behind a tiny crevice between a lumbering tree and a large formation of rock.

He even had the pleasure of watching the suspicious man carve out arrays into the land. Chen Jiang watched him dumbly from the shadows, stilling his breathing like a frightened rabbit.

Liu Langce looked up and sighed, reaching in his robes to pull out a black mask. Once he fitted it over his head, his head snapped, twisting right toward Chen Jiang’s direction.

Those two gray eyes reflected light behind the mask, glowing like a nocturnal beast.

Chen Jiang’s heart and mind blanked, his nerves all flinched in fright. He fled. Breath rasping and eyes wide, heart thundering in his chest, he fled like an idiot. Shameless and pathetic.

Like an unthinking fool, he ran straight toward the arrays set up earlier by the Guanghai Elder. Demons rose from the ground. A thick demonic energy stung his nose, causing Chen Jiang’s eyes to water. A sharp black claw surged up from the glowing red ground, almost cleaving Chen Jiang in two.

A sharp girly cry ripped out of his throat as he fell backward. Red eyes stared down at him. The Second Young Master Chen shuffled backward, whimpering as he tried to get up on his feet. But a claw caught his heel, pulling him back. He squealed like a pig at slaughter.

But perhaps some of his older brother’s luck rubbed off on him after all. An arrow flew through the sky, piercing the demon straight through the skull. It shrieked and fell over dead, allowing Chen Jiang to wiggle free.

He got up and ran, chased by even more demonic beasts that rose from the portal. Chen Jiang had long forgotten about how disgracefully he was screaming and crying like a panicked babe. When he looked over his shoulder out of desperate fear, he ran straight into something. Not entirely hard, for it stumbled back on collision and swore when Chen Jiang fell and screamed.

“Don’t kill me! Spare me! Please spare me, I’ll–”

“Please shut up,” the person grumbled with a sigh. Though Chen Jiang did not recognize his face, he could see that he was wearing Wayward Wind colors. Behind him was a small group of people: mercenaries, rogue cultivators, and others of similar ilk.

Chen Jiang blinked them stupidly before recovering from his stupor. “Get out of my way!” He tried to push past the Wayward Wind disciple, but the man only pushed him back in turn.

Chen Jiang did not know him, but Li Zheng had grown colder and more agitated over the past weeks. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“What?” Chen Jiang’s eyes shot up with livid heat, “There’s a whole army of ravaging evil demons back there, and you have what,” he made a rude hand motion to the men and women that stood with Li Zheng, “a dozen people? Do you want to die?”

“Yes, there’s a whole demon army back there, and you’re leaving your hometown to burn to the ground. Do you have no shame?”

A dozen pairs of eyes glared at him, cold and judgemental. Chen Jiang felt himself break out into sweat, “You’ll just die!”

Li Zheng sighed and grabbed the Second Young Master Chen by the cuff of his robe, ignoring the wailing cries of despair, he lugged the young man along with him, back toward Reling’s walls.

…

An unbearable heat was coming at Liu Sumeng, but the fire did not burn him. Wrestling Liu Langce in swordplay was a little easier when he backed away to avoid the burn of holy fire.

Liu Sumeng chased him, unrelenting. And though the Guanghai Elder easily matched his speed, strength, and skill; there was Yuan Xuelan behind him to jump in at just the right moment.

Though it would have been completely impossible for them to gain any ground if the Guanghai Elder hadn’t stumbled in his footwork, hand coming up to stop a cough bubbling in his chest.

It was the perfect time to step in aggressively; Mingshui’s blade piercing the skin of Liu Langce’s arm. His chest was trembling, holding back another wave of coughs, the hand that came away from his mouth was bloody.

He shoved the Ivory Sword Saint back, illness stopping him from being able to fully counterattack.

Cornered, Liu Langce did not hesitate to change tactics and dashed inside the study. Liu Sumeng followed, not allowing his focus to be swayed when he caught sight of both Chen Gaoyong and Chen Anyue, each lying on the ground in a pool of their blood. He steeled his emotions and chased after his enemy, even when fear and sadness threatened to devour him whole.

But it was Yuan Xuelan behind him, who flinched from horror when he saw his Shijie on the ground. Calling after her, he rushed to her side and knelt, hands desperately feeling for a pulse.

Somehow, Chen Anyue had been lucky; the dagger missed her vital organs and she was only passed out. Pale-faced he stepped away from her, leaving the weapon in her body for now; so she wouldn’t bleed out from careless extraction.

On the other side of the room, Liu Sumeng could hear him stepping away and quiet. He was no longer to feign total indifference and asked as he parried, “How is she?”

“Alive,” Yuan Xuelan answered before joining in the fray, jumping in when Liu Sumeng’s strength faltered from the breath of questioning.

That one word was all it took for him to feel relief and have his total focus return.

Though Yuan Xuelan fought at his side, the younger did not push and nor shove to get in front of him. Instead, he synchronized with Liu Sumeng’s steps, backing off when the Ivory Sword Saint stepped forward and striking when he fell back.

A unique type of happiness warmed the Ivory Sword Saint’s heart, mixing with the high of battle. And between the madness of slashing swords, shuffling feet and splattering blood, Yuan Xuelan and Liu Sumeng shared a quick, brief look.

No words were said between them, not even a nod.

Yuan Xuelan circled Liu Langce, arching Silei around with blinding fire. Sumeng lunged forward at the same time. Their mask-wearing foe parried Yuan Xuelan first, kicking him and his glowing sacred sword away. Mingshui was aimed at the jugular, but he was a little too slow, cutting only a shallow wound on Liu Langce’s neck.

But the Guanghai Elder’s blow was a lot closer to on target, piercing Liu Sumeng’s gut.

The Ivory Sword Saint locked eyes with gray ones, unwavering. He saw the light tremble in Liu Langce’s shoulder, telling him that the elder was dividing his strength to keep the sickness at bay.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, impaling himself even further on the scimitar.

With his free hand, the Ivory Sword Saint struck the Guanghai Elder straight in the chest, with a spell that would stagger his breathing.

Liu Langce flew backward, his body smashing into the opposite wall. Sumeng staggered as well, his hand circling around the wound in his gut. He thudded against the floor, and his head fell back against the wall for support.