Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 113

The kiss was brief, but for them, it was the most complete gift in a long, painful struggle.

As they pulled apart, Wei Huan looked at Yun Yongzhou and smiled. His small sharp canine teeth pressed lightly into his soft lips, like poking a piece of candy—so sweet.

“You’re really good-looking,” he blurted out, just like the first time he met Yun Yongzhou. Then he flapped his wings. “When all this cr*p is over, I’m gonna kiss that pretty face of yours to death.”

Yun Yongzhou only smiled without replying.

Wei Huan opened his right hand. A green mermaid bead appeared in his palm. His gaze swept downward, but he didn’t see Su Buyu. Like the rest of the emergency troops, he had scattered into the corners of this dangerous city.

A faint breeze brushed his hair and cheek, curling like fine silk around his fingers, threading through the mermaid bead. The floating pearl looped around his neck.

“Alright, time to get to work.”

Yang Ling, who had been surveying all of Kunlun Void from above, flew down, her voice barely able to hide the excitement and joy. With a flutter of her small wings, she threw herself into Wei Huan’s arms. “Brother Huanhuan! You’re back!”

“Oof—” Wei Huan barely caught her, laughing. “You’re like a little bomb.”

Yang Ling backed off and looked him over from a meter away. Her lips trembled and she nearly burst into tears. “You’re finally back…”

“No crying, alright? You’re our Little Seven’s main force, can’t be sobbing.” Wei Huan pinched her nose. “Now, what’s the situation?”

Yang Ling choked up, wiping at her eyes. “There have already been two major earthquakes since we got here. Same outside the civic plaza. I just contacted some classmates near the city borders—tremors are strong there too. But strangely, no other cities outside of Kunlun Void seem affected.”

The emergency alarms were still echoing in the air. Yang Sheng and Jing Yun rushed over from the building that had nearly collapsed earlier. Seeing Wei Huan safe and sound, they couldn’t hide their joy.

“The civilians from that tower have been evacuated. Most people from the surrounding buildings have also been rescued by the Shan Hai emergency forces,” Yang Sheng said, eyeing Wei Huan. “Ugh, I can’t get used to looking at you right now. It’s weird.”

“I get it. Too handsome—you can’t even open your eyes.” Wei Huan joked, then turned and saw Jing Yun, drenched in sweat, sleeves torn, and palms scraped. Anyone else might’ve comforted him, told him not to push so hard. But Wei Huan simply patted him on the shoulder. “Our little Chongming really is a little hero.”

Jing Yun froze, blinking his double pupils. Then he suddenly let out a loud wail and lunged at Wei Huan for a hug—only to be pulled halfway into Yang Sheng’s own arms.

“Cry here. If you lunge like that, your Brother Huanhuan might ascend a second time.”

“Scram, you jealous b*stard.” Wei Huan looked down and saw Nine Tails approaching. She first gave a quick report. “The quakes seem to have stopped.” Then she smiled. “Welcome back.”

“The little fox is sweet for once. I’m satisfied. Anyway—no more small talk. We need to start evacuating the civilians as fast as possible, using teleportation barriers or flight tools, whatever works. Just get them out to other cities.” As he spoke, he seemed to sense something—a large surge of demonic energy. “Wait… are they gathering the civilians somewhere now?”

Yun Yongzhou summoned his spiritual energy. The Eye of Xihe lit up with golden light. A moment later, he spoke. “Yes. Kunlun Void Stadium.”

Yang Ling added, “I just saw something on a screen over there. The government’s evacuation plan says those near the stadium should head there—they’ll use barriers for relocation.”

“That is the largest open area in Kunlun Void,” said Yan Shanyue, frowning. “But with so many people, can they really all be moved out?”

“Not necessarily all at once,” Yang Sheng said. “Most regular civilians don’t know teleportation techniques, so they have to rely on tools. But the government and emergency troops are different—almost all of them know how to use barriers for transport. The more troops we have, the more refugees we can relocate.”

Wei Huan nodded. “The Kunlun Void barrier is broken, but the other cities in the demon realm are still sealed tight. That makes Kunlun Void a place that’s easy to enter, but hard to leave. Evil demons can storm in freely, but refugees here without passcodes to the other cities’ barriers can’t get out. Centralizing them like this is a last resort. Those who could leave on their own probably already have. What’s left are likely the most vulnerable. No matter what—we need to head to where the refugees are. While the earthquakes have momentarily paused, we evacuate as many as we can.”

They gave up using barrier teleportation and took to the skies instead, intending to check for any remaining calls for help on the way to the main evacuation site.

Yun Yongzhou flew right beside Wei Huan. “How much longer can Kunlun Void hold out?”

It seemed like a question with no basis, but Wei Huan turned his head to look at him. Wind howled past their ears.

“Why are you asking that?” Yang Ling was puzzled. “This isn’t a normal earthquake, is it?”

“It probably isn’t,” Yang Sheng answered from the side. “When I was little, I heard from my father that Kunlun Void has always been a remote and sacred mountain. Its spiritual roots were once deep and stable enough to keep it standing for a thousand years. But after years of war, the world turned to chaos. The spiritual energy of Kunlun Void began to dissipate, and even the spiritual roots in the mountains were severed. Fortunately, that was when the Phoenix emerged and used his own body to hold up Kunlun Void, which was on the verge of collapse. But how long that Phoenix could support it—no one knew.”

Wei Huan thought of what the Phoenix’s divine consciousness had told him—

That tree he still hadn’t managed to shake.

He looked down. Below him, devastation stretched as far as the eye could see. What was once the beautiful and prosperous capital of the demon realm was now crumbling sand, ready to be shattered by the next quake. Suddenly, a helicopter flew dangerously close, nearly clipping Jing Yun’s wings. Fortunately, Yun Yongzhou reacted quickly and lashed a light cord around Jing Yun’s waist to pull him away just in time.

Yang Ling fumed, “What the h*ll are they doing? Are they blind?!”

A cat demon stuck its head out of the helicopter, pointing toward the stadium not far away. “Quick, film over there! That refugee shelter—we have to get firsthand footage!”

“Don’t wait! The other networks are already here—we need to be fast!”

Yang Sheng frowned. “Reporters?”

Behind that helicopter came several more, and an uncountable swarm of drones poured in like a hive. Wei Huan saw these reporters, each more excited than the last, their eyes almost glowing. It was as if the worse the disaster and the greater the casualties, the more value their footage would have.

Blood-soaked buns were just too sweet—irresistible.

Yun Yongzhou frowned slightly but said nothing. He simply flew alongside Wei Huan, hearing the cries for help getting louder.

Yang Ling pointed down. “We’re here, right? This is the place!” And then she dove downward.

“Be careful!” Yang Sheng and Jing Yun followed. Nine Tails, carried by foxfire, descended as well. Only Wei Huan and Yun Yongzhou remained in the air.

“Baize probably predicted Kunlun Void’s fall a long time ago,” Yun Yongzhou suddenly said.

“Mhm.” Wei Huan lowered his eyes and smiled. “Maybe even before I was born.” Then he dove toward the stadium and began using teleportation barriers alongside the government and military forces to transfer refugees to the designated safe zones.

This was the largest stadium in Kunlun Void, capable of hosting a sports event with 100,000 spectators. Refugees now crowded the center of the stadium, far exceeding what they had anticipated. The field was already packed, and the newcomers were forced into the stands. The stadium had two large screens facing north and south—one played a video of the newly appointed Prime Minister reading the rescue plan, while the other showed footage of refugee settlements in other cities.

“There are too many,” Wei Huan muttered, feeling the weight in his chest. “Everyone, spread out. When you open a barrier, control the numbers. Don’t exceed the teleportation load limit or the transfer will fail.”

“Got it.”

Everyone split up to act.

“Please help us!” As soon as Wei Huan landed, the strong demonic energy radiating from him—only present in powerful demons—immediately drew countless refugees. Like a piece of honey dropped into an ant nest, hands surged toward him from the crowd, wave after wave. Old and young alike reached desperately for help and attention.

A young mother clutching a baby was almost knocked over from behind. Wei Huan quickly caught her and conjured a glowing blue staff planted in the ground. “Careful. Hold onto this.”

“Help me and my daughter! We can’t be separated!”

An anxious octopus demon shoved his way up, each thick tentacle laden with heavy luggage. “Is Kunlun Void collapsing?! Can I still make it to the bank?! You’re powerful, right? I have a lot of money, can you take me—”

“Big brother, I’m scared… I can’t find my mom.” A little girl with small lamb horns was being jostled around and crying, her face wet with tears. Wei Huan wrapped a strand of wind-silk around her wrist and pulled her to his side. “Don’t be scared. I’ll help you find your mom soon.”

“Can we go now? Let me go first!”

“Why should you go first?!”

“Please open the barrier, quickly!”

…

Countless hands reached for Wei Huan. Their bodies pressed in close, leaving him barely any space to move. And it wasn’t just him—Yun Yongzhou and the others were being overwhelmed as well. The situation left him helpless, and Wei Huan tried to calm the crowd. “Don’t panic. I’ll help you all. Just hold on…”

Suddenly, he heard the sound of flying machines above. He looked up to see a dense cloud of drones swarming overhead. At first, he thought they were just media trying to capture footage of the rescue operation—but when he glanced around, he realized something was off. The drones, which had previously been scattered across the stadium, were now converging—all heading toward him.

Their lenses were trained on no one else.

Wei Huan was surprised. But in the next moment, he heard the reporters’ voices.

“Are you sure you weren’t mistaken? This is the hottest scoop of the year!”

“I’m not sure! The tip just came in!”

Tip?

By now, the sky above him was crowded with machines and helicopters. It seemed they had abandoned their previous plan of filming the general rescue—suddenly, all cameras were locked onto him.

The Prime Minister’s speech playing on the big screen was suddenly interrupted. A TV host began speaking: “We have just received some shocking news. Without further ado, we’ll hand things over to our reporter on the scene.”

The screen flickered briefly, and the cat demon reporter from earlier appeared simultaneously on both giant screens, holding a mic and earpiece, her tone fervent:

“Everyone surely remembers the surprise counterattack at the border canyon seven years ago. In that war, the last descendant of the Nine Phoenix clan—then a sergeant in the Shanhai University Combat Division, Wei Huan—was captured and defected. He handed over his military badge, lured the demon realm’s rescue forces into an ambush, and caused massive casualties. Even Shanhai’s most famous instructor, Yang Zheng, lost his life in that brutal battle!”

Upon hearing the voice, Wei Huan looked up. The next second, his face appeared on the southern screen.

“So the traitor from back then didn’t die! He’s actually shown up in Kunlun Void Stadium, right in the middle of a refugee hub!”

He turned his head. The opposite screen also displayed his face.

Just as the reporter prepared to say more, a blade of light pressed against her throat. Her transmitter was also shattered by it, and she screamed in terror.

Wei Huan looked toward Yun Yongzhou in the distance. His eyes had changed color.

[Don’t. The rescue comes first.]

He sent the message telepathically.

The television cut back to the studio, where the host continued smoothly, “A citizen has just uploaded an image from City Plaza—this one here. The technique seen here, a wind-formed wall, is indeed the exclusive skill of the Nine Phoenix bloodline. It seems the live report may be accurate. The once-traitorous Nine Phoenix has reappeared in the demon realm. Is the timing merely coincidence? Why did he defect back then? And now, is he here to sabotage our rescue plans—or is there some darker, undisclosed motive? The emergence of this dangerous figure has clearly added a new layer of unpredictability to the rescue operation. Our reporters will continue to bring you the latest updates from the scene.”

Yang Ling exploded with fury, her wings unfurling as lotus fire erupted in the air. “Nonsense! What a load of crap reporting—I’ll blow up all your gear and let’s see what you use to spread lies then!”

“Little Ling!” Wei Huan raised his hand, forming a wind barrier that isolated her lotus flames.

“Rescue first.”

He said little else and prepared to open a teleportation barrier. But to his surprise, the very people who had swarmed him earlier now backed away. The packed stadium suddenly became spacious around him.

Those who had treated him like a savior now looked at him with suspicion, fear—even disgust.

“I won’t hurt you,” Wei Huan said. “That wind wall in the image—those were rioters trying to take advantage of the chaos to steal Kunlun Void’s spiritual energy. Weren’t you asking to be evacuated?” He opened a glowing blue barrier, but no one approached it.

Even the young mother he had helped earlier quickly let go of the wind column that had steadied her and backed away in terror.

“Run! That demon is the most dangerous of all!”

“He’s a liar! He must be a spy sent by Fanzhou!”

“We almost got tricked!”

Wei Huan stood silently at the center of it all, watching the crowd manipulated by the media slowly retreat from him. Only the little girl he had tied with wind silk still stood in place.

“Big brother, I’m scared… Will there be another earthquake?” she said, not understanding why everyone was avoiding him. She stumbled forward, inching toward him. Drones continued filming, and Wei Huan’s face appeared again on the screen.

He reached out and smiled. “Big brother will take you somewhere without earthquakes.”

Just then, a frantic woman emerged from the crowd, rushing to the little girl. “Beibei! Mommy finally found you! You scared me to death!”

“Mommy!” the girl hugged her. She pointed at Wei Huan. “Mommy, this big brother said he’ll take us away.”

Her mother looked terrified. She covered her daughter’s eyes. “He’s a bad person—don’t let him fool you!”

As they fled back into the crowd, the smile on Wei Huan’s face completely faded.

“You want the truth, don’t you?”

He spread his black wings and rose above the stadium, flying into the air amid all the slander and doubt. The drones followed his every move, lenses fixed unblinkingly on him.

“The only so-called ‘evidence’ of Nine Phoenix’s betrayal you’ve seen is the surrender of a military badge after being captured.” Wei Huan extended his right hand. A brilliant blue light appeared in his palm, then floated forward and revealed a military badge engraved with the Nine Phoenix clan’s crest.

“What is that?”

A voice from below shouted, “That—That could be fake too!”

Wei Huan smiled and nodded as if in agreement. “Fair point.” As he finished speaking, the Nine Phoenix crest on his collarbone began to glow. Demonic energy surged, sending his long hair flying. He gently blew on the badge.

Suddenly, it erupted with intense demonic light, transforming into a colossal image of a Nine Phoenix—wings spread wide, blotting out the sky. All nine heads roared together in a deafening cry. The sight was so terrifying that the crowd nearly collapsed to the ground, unable to look directly at it.

The Shanhai combat troops below, however, looked up in stunned disbelief at the grieving Nine Phoenix demon soul.

“This is the ancestral soul of the Nine Phoenix clan, preserved within the real military badge. All of you in the combat division should know—only authentic badges contain the spirits of ancestors and the original owner,” Wei Huan said as he stared directly into the cameras. “Surprised? Back then, I left in such a hurry I didn’t even bring my badge to the battlefield.”

“Not just you—even the one who framed me probably didn’t expect that I, Wei Huan, wouldn’t wear my badge to war.” He held out his hand, and the badge floated back into his palm, spinning slowly. “Funny thing is, I had planned to use it for something important. Never expected it would become the evidence that clears my name.”

Wei Huan closed his fingers around the badge, reclaiming the colossal Nine Phoenix projection in the sky as he did.

“When I, the last of the Nine Phoenix, died on the battlefield… When rumors spread that my battle badge had been seized… did any of you investigate? Did anyone verify it? Did any of you actually see footage of me surrendering and handing it over of my own will? Or did anyone even bother to inspect the badge in Fanzhou to see if it was genuine? Has anyone ever questioned why a powerful demon would still be executed after defecting? Has anyone cared how many battles I fought, how many times I risked my life for Kunlun Void and the demon realm?”

Wei Huan laughed and shook his head. “No.”

His voice was quiet. “The so-called truth you cling to… it shatters with the slightest touch.”

Not just on the two giant stadium screens—this momentous, world-shaking resurrection was being broadcast across all of Kunlun Void and the entire demon realm. People everywhere watched as the genius youth, unchanged from seven years ago, reappeared before their eyes.

“Everyone knows demons live long lives—but probably not us. The Nine Phoenix clan has protected this land for a thousand years, generation after generation throwing themselves into death’s maw. The youngest warriors were barely in their teens. From birth, we were fated for this. Forget longevity—just surviving was hard enough. When I rose to join the combat division, I was the last of my bloodline. And in the end, we were exterminated for the sake of the demon realm… and I was branded a traitor. Not a single reporter who claims to ‘seek the truth’ ever came to investigate, to verify anything. Not even to inspect the handed-over badge and see whether it truly housed the souls of my ancestors.”

The entire stadium fell into utter silence. Only Wei Huan’s voice echoed from the screens.

“Remember this.” His eyes turned cold as the badge floated to his chest.

“I, Wei Huan—last Nine Phoenix under heaven and earth—”

“—if I die, I die clean and righteous. If I live, I live upright and proud.”