I’m Really Not The Demon God’s Lackey - Chapter 447: Red

Three Souls lay in one body,

One soul belonging to a man who had reached the peak, the strongest there ever was, the one who had the talent to do so. Yet he suffered because of his talent. His soul shone as bright as a galaxy once, but now is but a sun. His talents made him the envy of all.

And He lost it all.

The Second soul belonged to a man soon to be the richest in the world.

A man who had his face charred, a man who seemingly had every odd placed against him from the very beginning.

He went against the family that abused him and triumphed over them. Yet he was left broken inside, He craved a release, and the first soul brought him that release.

And he became a psychopath that scared the manifestation of evil itself.

And the Third?

The child born from their souls was anything but ordinary. Cursed with a fate no one wanted. Cursed with the fact that the Universe wanted him dead.

He was born from Chaos And Ice and a fraction of light, Yet manipulated Space.

His abilities were so powerful they were harmful to his body.

His talent is as infinite as the boundless cosmos.

His enemies were greater than one could count.

His luck is worse than shit.

And Yet, he continued to fight. Despite whatever was thrown at him, he would brute force through it or outsmart it, befitting the other two above.

He continued to fight, not believing in the bullshit that was destiny.

The boundless universe was filled with all sorts of wonders.

I, Chen *Ping’an, only have one sword, to move mountains, turn the seas upside down, suppress demons, deal with gods, pluck stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and open the heavenly abode!

My name is Chen Ping’an, Ping’an* of Peace, and I am a swordsman.

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of the East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

An impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

Notes:

* Ping’an means peace

** The four directions here are just the four sides of the map of China and the earth. As for the World of Righteousness, it was only one of the four “World”.

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