I Really Am A Villain

No one who entered Dark Nether Mountain had ever returned. Because of that, the mountain was shrouded in dread. For hundreds of miles around, no creature dared approach. There wasn’t even a single village in sight, only desolation, silence, and, at its heart, a lifeless mountain.

The figure of Chaos descended from the void.

As Xu Zimo’s feet touched the ground, endless waves of death energy surged toward him, seeking to consume him entirely. His body began to age visibly, flesh shriveling, life ebbing away, if this continued, he would soon become nothing but bones.

A leaf from the Tree of Life within him drifted down, forming a barrier that blocked the death energy completely. Only then could Xu Zimo proceed toward Nether Mountain with ease.

He walked for several minutes and did not see a single living soul. The stillness was so absolute that it made him feel as though he himself had become a wandering ghost.

At the foot of the mountain, he raised his head. The mountain wasn’t tall, shaped like an open hand, and exuded an ancient aura.

“Among the mournful wails of the white bones, the path of life and death leads into the nether.”

These words, written in bold black strokes like ink splashed across the stone, were carved upon a stele ahead.

“Seek not comfort in the mortal world. For beneath the illusory sea, souls reunite.”

He didn’t know who had carved them. The path up the mountain was made of uneven, jagged steps.

As soon as Xu Zimo stepped onto them, an invisible force blasted him backward.

“Only the dead may tread the Nether,” a solemn voice resounded from all directions.

Immediately, boundless death energy rose like mist, enveloping heaven and earth. The air thickened with death, and soon a chilling wind blew through, carrying the faint silhouettes of ghostly soldiers and generals.

The howling gusts sounded like the wailing of lost souls.

Xu Zimo said nothing. In his palm, the Tree of Life shrank countless times until it spun gently within his hand. Its radiant life force pulsed outward, far stronger than the surrounding death energy, and wherever it spread, the deathly aura dissolved.

“What an unpleasant aura,” came a raspy voice from the mountain path.

A moment later, two black-robed emissaries emerged from the void, each wielding a scythe. Without a word, they lunged at Xu Zimo.

With a casual wave, Xu Zimo unleashed two arcs of blade energy that instantly cleaved them apart. Yet, in the next heartbeat, their bodies split into four, then multiplied, four to eight, eight to sixteen, sixteen to thirty-two, an endless swarm.

Xu Zimo said coldly, “Absolute power cannot be offset by mere numbers.”

His body radiated endless streams of blade intent as he advanced step by step up the mountain path. No matter how many emissaries emerged or multiplied, his blade energy shredded them all. Even tens of thousands could not come within a single step of him.

Once again he set foot upon the mountain path. The same powerful force tried to repel him, but this time he was prepared. Channeling his strength, he pressed forward, one steady step after another.

After climbing for some distance, the black-robed emissaries vanished. At the mountainside, he encountered an old man leaning against a smooth boulder, polishing two hooked sickles in his hands.

Xu Zimo stopped beside him. The rhythm of the old man’s movements was mesmerizing, watch long enough, and the act seemed to hold unfathomable depth.

At last, the old man stopped and looked up at Xu Zimo with a smile. “I’ve heard your name for a long time,” he said. “Today, I finally get to see you in person.”

“And you are?” Xu Zimo asked.

“Corpse Hook,” the old man replied evenly.

“One of the Nine Ghost Gods,” Xu Zimo said, frowning.

Of the Nine Ghost Gods, he had only met two before, Kui and Abyssal Chimera. Though Corpse Hook was also among them, this was their first encounter.

“Are you Ghost Gods part of the Nether Race?” Xu Zimo asked.

“We answer only to the End of Calamities,” Corpse Hook said, shaking his head.

Seeing Xu Zimo’s doubt, he explained, “I was ordered to guard the entrance to Nether Mountain, to prevent the ghosts from leaving the Forbidden Lands.”

“And what is your purpose in that?” Xu Zimo asked.

“That’s something you’ll have to ask the Lord yourself,” Corpse Hook said with a faint smile. “I just didn’t expect you to come to the Forbidden Lands in person.”

“Where is the entrance to the Forbidden Lands?” Xu Zimo asked.

“Upon Nether Mountain lies Nether City. When midnight strikes, the gates will open on their own,” Corpse Hook said.

Xu Zimo nodded and continued up the path.

“Are you planning to leave the Ghost-God Heaven?” Corpse Hook suddenly called out as Xu Zimo walked away.

“Why?” Xu Zimo turned and asked.

“We have a way to help you leave,” Corpse Hook said. “But in exchange, we need a promise from you.”

“I make no promises,” Xu Zimo replied flatly. “And I don’t need your help.”

“I know you have Saint Sovereigns at your side,” Corpse Hook continued, “but even with their protection, you cannot leave the Ghost-God Heaven. Not by your current strength. Even Saint Sovereigns would be useless.”

“That’s not something you need to concern yourself with,” Xu Zimo said coolly.

“I’ll be here on Nether Mountain,” Corpse Hook said with a faint smile. “When you change your mind, come find me anytime.”

“Is that your own idea?” Xu Zimo asked.

“End of Calamities’ order,” Corpse Hook replied truthfully.

Xu Zimo frowned slightly, then resumed his ascent. Behind him, the sound of Corpse Hook polishing his hooks echoed once more.

At last, he reached the summit of Nether Mountain, where a city stood. A ghostly city, shrouded in darkness and silence.

It was daytime, yet when he walked toward it, the city appeared like a mirage, his body passed right through its illusionary walls.

Xu Zimo wasn’t in a hurry. He simply sat and waited.

From afternoon until deep into the night, he waited.

At last, as darkness thickened, the city grew more solid, more real, until, with a deep clang, its gates opened.

Nether City… was open.

Two ghostly guards stood at the gates. Within, the city was lively and crowded.

When Xu Zimo entered, no one tried to stop him. The streets were bustling as though in celebration of a ghost festival. People wore masks and sold items related to the underworld.

…

“Picking up where we left off, the great general of the Primal God Race fought the Ghost Monarch for hundreds of rounds but was finally defeated!”

Hearing the shout, Xu Zimo turned his head. To his surprise, there was a storyteller in this ghostly city as well.

At the gate of a tall building, a crowd had gathered to listen.

Xu Zimo climbed up to the tower and found a seat. But when the others saw him, they quickly backed away, unwilling to sit near him.

“Old man, that’s enough story for today,” someone said. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Bah, how unlucky, another outsider.”