Tokyo Sword Saint Online Dealing

The Wind Demon said something had changed: his precious girl was in trouble.

He wanted to see who would dare to lay a hand on his trusted right-hand woman, whom he had finally found!

Musashi Province itself is not large, and his horse is fast. Before long, he could see the faint outline of that small village in the distance.

The faint glow of the fire startled him, and he instinctively spurred his horse to gallop faster.

When he arrived at the village entrance, Fengmo, who had been waiting for a long time, bowed to him and spoke urgently.

"Sir, please go in and take a look."

"The young lady you asked us to look after seems to have... had an accident."

Yuan Qingya walked briskly forward indifferently. After he saw clearly what was happening, he subconsciously tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

The foot soldiers of Edo Castle are confronting the vagrants, protecting Ao in the center.

The girl in blue with white hair knelt helplessly on the ground, her hair disheveled and her eyes vacant.

Behind her, a bonfire was burning fiercely, like a medieval stake.

Aqing seemed to sense Yuan Qingya's arrival.

She glanced at Yuan Qingya with a blank look in her eyes, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over.

Her bitter laugh was like a summer firework about to fade away.

"Hello, Lord Koji."

"I've turned into a monster!"

"Do you still stand by what you said?"

Chapter 284 Green Lantern

"Ah Qing is always acting strangely, and that white hair of hers is so scary. She likes ghost stories, she must be some kind of weirdo!"

Such rumors are no secret in this small village.

The white-haired girl's situation was indeed not good, but she was just enjoying herself and pretending not to notice.

At least, the village children were still interested in her ghost stories.

So sharing ghost stories with these children has become one of the greatest joys in her life.

But this behavior was naturally incomprehensible to the parents who saw her as an outcast.

"She's a man-eating monster who makes up stories to deceive children and then eats them."

Unthinking, sarcastic remarks rained down on her.

Gradually, fewer and fewer children were willing to come and listen to her stories.

Therefore, she felt somewhat fortunate on the day she met Yuan Qingya.

Perhaps starting a new life isn't so bad.

At least I can read more books and write more stories.

Moreover, the story of that handsome young Genji from Kyoto could probably be written into a long book.

That's what she thought.

After telling the children the agreed-upon hundredth story, she decided to leave, to leave the place where she grew up.

Even if few people hear her story anymore, even if she is just wasting her breath, it won't change people's opinions of her.

but.

As long as there is one listener, her story will continue until the very end.

That night, she was telling her last story.

It is the story of the phoenix fire that flickers on the sea.

There were very few listeners; most of them were children who had sneaked out after their parents went to sleep.

She was so engrossed in her story that by the time she came to her senses, it was already dawn.

Every single listener left.

She had no suspicions and stumbled out of the door.

The sun was blindingly bright, the air was scorching hot, and countless eyes were fixed on her.

"They've finally revealed their true colors."

The village chief, who had watched her grow up, said this with a stern expression.

"Tie her up and burn her!"

"I told you, it must be an ominous sign. I've never seen such terrifying white hair!"

"Her parents died at the hands of bandits not long after she was born; perhaps she was the cause of their deaths!"

"So that's why our village has had such bad luck these past few years! It must be because of this monster!"

The white-haired girl, her face deathly pale and radiating an eerie blue light, was speechless.

The facts were undeniable, and rumors spread unchecked, becoming accepted as gospel. Under the scorn of everyone, the frail girl collapsed helplessly and was led to the bonfire.

She is very smart.

She knew what was coming.

She is very calm.

Because of her personality, life and death are not a great fear for her.

This calm expression remained until her manuscripts were discovered, collected, and prepared to be burned in a fire.

Her expression became agitated, and she struggled to break free from the villagers' restraints, standing in front of the manuscript.

That was what she cherished most, far more than her life.

"What are you trying to do? Don't burn my books!"

Foolish people will not be enlightened by this level of resistance; they will only become more irrational.

Having just completed the ritual to transform into a demon by sheer chance, she is now half-human and half-demon, and her body is too weak to stop the nightmares from happening.

The manuscript, which she painstakingly copied stroke by stroke, was burned to ashes.

At that moment, she felt worse than if she were dying.

"The book is innocent."

She sighed softly, collapsed to the ground, and gazed helplessly at the sky.

Despite the distortion caused by the thick smoke, the sky remained azure.

But she probably won't be able to see this sky again.

Fuma, whom Minamoto Kiyoma trusted, was no fool. After all, he was a ninja by training and acted extremely quickly. He discovered the situation in the village, immediately sent someone to find his lord, and then rushed in to stop the ignorant villagers.

However, the manuscript, burned to ashes, can never be recovered.

The common people revered these samurai gentlemen with swords at their waists even more than they revered monsters.

And so, they waited for Yuan Qingya to arrive late.

The half-demon girl, looking flustered, haggard, and helpless, smiled bitterly at the Edo lord, as if she had used up her last bit of strength to ask a question.

"Do you still stand by what you said?"

Yuan Qingya knew what had happened almost instantly.

He smelled an increasingly distinct demonic aura.

Filled with regret, he hated himself for not considering this situation. Indeed, the girl before him had long been tainted by demonic energy and had the potential to transform into a demon.

But he didn't take it to heart.

This was his dereliction of duty.

He strode over, knelt on one knee, and looked directly at the white-haired girl with ripples of blue light, who seemed otherworldly, speaking with utmost gentleness.

"Of course it counts."

"So what if it's a monster? There's already a big monster living in my house. Adding another person won't make me poor."

The white-haired girl suddenly looked up, a glimmer of life appearing in her lifeless eyes.

Even with her extensive reading, she was still constrained by the "era," and her ideas were imprisoned in a cage.

Yuan Qingya is different; he comes from modern society a thousand years in the future.

He doesn't discriminate against so-called "monsters." As long as they don't do evil, they are no different from humans.

But almost no one in this era thinks that way.

Monsters, like man-eating demons, floods, and ferocious beasts, can be killed without question; eradicating them completely is imperative.

The white-haired girl had fantasized about her ending: to publicly slay the evil monster, which would be a great event to inspire the people.

If only I could die by his hand.

It's much better than being burned to death, right?

In the next life... If there is a next life, and I meet that person earlier, will my life trajectory be different from now?

Lost in thought, she heard a gentle, soothing reply.

I looked up and saw calm and caring eyes.

Overwhelmed by her pent-up grievances, she could no longer hold back.

She instinctively leaned into the boy's arms, tears welling up and flowing uncontrollably.

"My books, all of them are gone."

Yuan Qingya gently patted her junior and comforted her softly.

"It's okay, I'll buy you a new one."

“I’ll contact my second brother when I get back and have him send you a few truckloads of books. Don’t cry, they’re just inanimate objects, not worth your tears.”