Chapter 87 The Prophet

From the very beginning, Li Lin never considered his abilities as something for fighting enemies.

He never thought of proactively harming anyone's life, even if others wanted to harm him. Towards Meteorite, who almost killed him, Li Lin, after thinking about it, still parted ways peacefully. He never intended to take anyone's life.

Even with training, it was merely for defense; he never adopted an attacking posture or mindset. He didn't even have the thought of wanting to win. His greatest dream all along was to live in a peaceful yet vibrant city, meet and fall in love with a good girl—didn't have to be too beautiful, a very ordinary girl would do—then raise a few children, live until the end of his natural lifespan, and then slowly bury himself like that.

Indeed, he had unexpected talent in combat; even just by holding a weapon, the blood in his whole body would start to boil uncontrollably.

But that was wrong; human greatness lies in creation, not slaughter.

Killing, even beasts would do such a thing. But only creation, this was something only humans could do. Everyone has their own reason to live; why those crazy murderers should be killed is because they have already lost the foundation of being human, already no different from beasts.

Fighting only after knowing why one is fighting—this was Li Lin's standard. He was a typical pacifist, disliked learning attacking things, liked literature, liked to talk loftily, but would feel extremely scared when truly facing a confrontation. Simply put, essentially no different from a bragging, peace-loving university student. So he would rather give his money to Officer Ch'en to build a better Lungmen than use this money to buy himself a house.

Because he felt he wasn't worthy yet; this money, rather than being given to someone like him who was just freeloading and waiting for death , it was better to directly give it to Officer Ch'en.

But no matter what, he really didn't want to fight people.

Fighting hurts, dead people are uncomfortable; although fighting looks cool and stylish, afterwards, feeling someone died at your hands, inexplicably gives a somewhat sticky feeling. Not a sense of guilt, just a very uncomfortable feeling. So he really didn't want to do it.

Watching the old man in his intuition raise his sword, Li Lin decided to exert his last bit of strength.

"Before fighting, I want to ask, why did it have to be us?"

"Not just you. Also Knight Nearl, and that traveling medic calling herself Shining. They have already started dealing with them; you are the last to be dealt with. Because among you is an idol, the impact is greatest."

"So, why? Why do you absolutely have to kill us?"

"Are you discussing with me why I can't avenge my son?"

"…"

He is old.

The person before him is an old man.

Li Lin suddenly realized this matter-of-fact thing.

In Li Lin's strange intuition, he perceived the deep sorrow and tragedy in this seemingly solemn-faced old man's heart.

People all thought leaders, high-ranking personnel, would definitely prioritize benefits, definitely have their own grand considerations; things like a son dying would absolutely not be taken to heart. But people also often overlooked that as long as it's a sentient being, there will be emotions.

People in the Terra world don't age much visually, and an old, decrepit man's only son, that son still in his prime, died at Nearl's hands, with everyone from Penguin Logistics as accomplices. This was enough. Midir the Lightless was just an old knight, but as a father who only had one child, lost his son in old age, and already had nothing left, it was perfectly normal for him to make such a choice.

"Goodbye, young man. You all must pay for my son's life. This is the only thing I can do for him. He indeed did wrong, but you shouldn't be the ones to judge."

"…Sorry."

Looking at the old man before him, face calm, raising his two-handed greatsword, eyes filled only with deep hatred, Li Lin apologized.

Facing the whistling two-handed greatsword, and the arrows tearing through the air rushing from behind, he closed his eyes. In his own world, he slowly delivered the first killing-intent-filled thrust as the Prophet. No longer training, no longer practice, but genuinely wanting to kill this old man before him.

And in the next instant, as if guided by fate, and also like some elusive miracle. Countless arrows collided in the darkness; elite archers found their arrows subtly deviating from their shooting direction due to a draft blowing through the alley. Arrows continuously collided, making incessant impact sounds in the darkness, then the flying arrow shafts emitted dull explosive sounds, directly lashing onto Li Lin's arm.

The terrifying force pulled his slender arm aside. With a bizarre arc flashing, Midir didn't even have time to react, looking aghast as the clothes on his shoulder were torn, conspicuous red marks appearing on his wrist and arm, yet Li Lin, who had somehow thrust the sword tip into his own throat.

As if an unstoppable fate, the moment the killing intent was decided, the moment the attack arrived, death was a foregone conclusion.

Unable to even muster the strength for a final counterattack, Midir used his last strength, eyes wide open looking at Li Lin.

'How is this possible…'

He wasn't apologizing to himself; he was apologizing for the act of having to take a life.

Looking at the young man whose entire shoulder was torn and bleeding, Midir finally understood what that apology meant.

The blood gushing from his throat and his torn trachea made his hand loosen; the massive greatsword slipped from mid-air, and amidst the alley now filled with strong sunlight after the darkness shattered, it whizzed and cut two unarmored assassins in half at the waist, bringing two short screams. Midir's aged face was filled with shock and disbelief, blankly looking at his bleeding throat and fractured spine, along with the pierced muscles and nerves, slowly kneeling down.

Slowly pulling the blood-dripping blade from the throat of the great knight who died with eyes open , Li Lin looked at the knights, who were exposed in the sunlight, astonished beyond words, the expression on his face becoming increasingly compassionate. Crimson blood dripped in the alley, spreading along the rock patterns, merging into a faint blood mist amidst the shattered darkness.

Gripping the slender sharp sword, his swollen arm trembling incessantly, Li Lin looked at those knights silently equipping their weapons and bracing their shoulders and feet, and said in a low voice:

"I will not let you pass."

"None of you will leave this alley alive. None of you will reach them."