Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 92

The moment Yun Yongzhou summoned his energy, countless golden blades erupted from him in a sphere—like a sky full of shooting stars, stabbing into the fleeing demon puppets. The others joined the fight immediately. Before they had time to react, they were already trapped in a deadly battle.

Yang Ling soared into the sky, scarlet lotus fire flaring in midair as it exploded against the bodies of the demon puppets. Cold blue foxfire linked into chains, binding these lifeless monsters. The timing was perfect—Yan Shanyue dodged to the side, and in the next instant, a five-meter-long stone pillar appeared behind her, slamming hard into the puppets trapped by the nine-tailed foxfire. The stone pillar crashed down, and in the billowing dust, Jing Yun’s golden dual-pupiled eyes emerged.

Qing He held a heavy machine gun, firing at the demon puppets closing in during the chaos. The smart analyzer on his arm recorded the appearance, movement, and behavior of each puppet as data. A few demon puppets lunged from behind him—just as they were about to strike, a long, narrow light-blade swept past and sliced them clean in half at the waist. The blade spun through the air in a semicircle and returned to Wei Huan’s hand.

Su Buyu gripped the mermaid bead tightly, staying close to Wei Huan. The moment a puppet approached, he fired sharp ice spikes from his palms. As soon as the spikes pierced the puppets, the freezing spread from the wounds outward, encasing their entire bodies in ice.

“Are we really going to just keep fighting like this?” Yang Ling stared at the endless stream of demon puppets. “How many of these monsters are there?”

It was a real problem.

Wei Huan looked at the chaotic battlefield, panting. He tried to figure out a reason for all this, but the urgency of the situation left him at a loss.

“Even if we kill all the puppets here, it won’t matter,” Yang Sheng said as he retracted his tornado. The construction debris that had been sucked up crashed down, burying many of the puppets alive. “They won’t let us go. This whole thing was a setup.”

Of course Wei Huan knew.

He clenched the light-blade tightly, his jaw rigid with frustration. “But every one we kill is one less to wreak havoc if it escapes.”

“But this is the Dark Zone,” Yang Ling countered. “Even if they escape, they can only go to Fanzhou. They can’t get into the demon domain. They won’t hurt—”

Wei Huan cut her off. “Humans don’t count as lives?” He hacked away at the puppets like a killing machine. Yang Ling heard his words and said nothing. Three seconds later, a massive wave of lotus fire filled the sky. Thunderous blasts echoed one after another. Her neck was covered in glowing violet demon markings, and her wings had grown enormous.

Wei Huan glanced at the light-blade in his hand. He knew this wasn’t the way. He unfolded his wings and took to the sky. The blade dissolved back into a golden wristband. The fracture in the band had grown deeper—barely a quarter remained intact. If he kept using it, it would soon break completely. From above, he looked down on the ruined, dark battlefield—demon puppets as far as the eye could see. They moved like zombies, yet they were fast and strong, not easily taken down.

Wei Huan looked at his wrist. The dormant power in his blood stirred restlessly. Amid the clamor of night, he clearly heard another sound—subtle, rapid. A heartbeat not his own, emerging inside his body. From nothing, to something, then faster and faster—

Like war drums, awakening the dormant demon spirit within.

He looked down and saw a blue glow at his fingertips.

“Yang Sheng!”

Over twenty years of tacit understanding had Yang Sheng react instantly, almost on instinct. He summoned a massive purple tornado. The powerful wind howled toward Wei Huan like a breaking wave. Wei Huan knew this moment by heart—he could respond with his eyes closed.

If it worked…

No—it will work.

Wind Assimilation Technique!

The purple dragon-shaped tornado flew into Wei Huan’s outstretched hands. Under his control, it condensed into a massive sphere of purple wind—but unlike before, it didn’t obey him smoothly. Instead, it enveloped him. His hair whipped in the wind. The violet demon light lit up the vivid colors of his blue left eye. His hands struggled to compress the wind inward, but the wind’s pressure was immense—nearly beyond his control. His fragile mortal body couldn’t bear the full strength of his past abilities.

Not good.

Wei Huan gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead bulging.

The power of the Nine Phoenix in his blood ignited.

“I refuse to believe this!”

In an instant, blue demon markings flared on his arm, twining around the bulging veins. His sleeve split open as his skin seemed to swell. Demon energy poured in through his crown, making him cry out in pain.

“Ah Huan!”

In the next moment, the purple tornado compressed and vanished, like a cosmic explosion swallowed by the void. In the night sky, only Wei Huan remained at the center, head bowed as if spent.

“Brother Huanhuan!”

One heartbeat later—

Wei Huan raised his head. One blue eye, one golden eye, both filled with unwavering determination. He beat his wings fiercely and spoke in a flat voice:

“Wind Assimilation—Manifest.”

Instantly, as if stars had fallen from the heavens, countless vertical lines of blue-violet light streaked down from the heavy clouds. Sharp, unstoppable wind-spikes three meters long rained from above—piercing the demon puppets both in the air and on the ground. Their scale and precision were staggering. Screams echoed everywhere as the puppets were nailed down like hunted prey—utterly unable to move or escape.

“Ah Huan is incredible…” Jing Yun, who had been struggling moments ago, stared in awe, lost for words.

“This is maybe a third of what he used to be,” Yang Sheng said with a crooked grin, eyes gleaming. “The guy’s finally blowing up.”

Even Yan Shanyue was shocked. She had long heard that the Golden Crow and Nine Phoenix of Shanhai were rare prodigies, but had never seen their full power in action—until now.

While everyone marveled, only Yun Yongzhou noticed the demon markings fading from Wei Huan’s body.

Wei Huan felt something rapidly draining away inside him—like sand slipping through his fingers, impossible to grasp. His wings began to falter, and a fog crept into his vision.

Just as Wei Huan’s strength gave out and he was about to fall, a pair of strong arms caught him and pulled him tightly into a warm embrace. Wei Huan didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“Every time… just in time.” Afraid that Yun Yongzhou would be upset, he even forced a relaxed smile. “I’m amazing, right…”

Yun Yongzhou said nothing, his expression as cold as ever. The light blades were even more ferocious than the wind spears, piercing through the demon puppets that had been pinned down, shredding them to pieces.

“Have you noticed,” Qing He said, still finding something off, “these demon puppets aren’t that strong after crawling out of the ground, but they almost never run toward me.”

Just as Qing He finished speaking, Yang Sheng added, “Yeah, they seem to focus more on coming toward us, especially…”

“Toward Yun Yongzhou,” Yan Shanyue said calmly.

Everyone’s eyes turned toward Yun Yongzhou and Wei Huan. The newly emerging puppets were all, without exception, heading straight for Yun Yongzhou, as if something on him was drawing them in.

“It’s the power of the Golden Crow,” Su Buyu said indifferently. “Back underground, he also had the strongest reaction.”

Jing Yun didn’t quite understand and asked timidly, “Instructor Yun… does he have some connection to the demon puppets?”

Right at that moment, a demon puppet lunged at him from behind. It tackled him, jaws wide open to bite into his neck—Yang Sheng didn’t even have time to act. A flash of silver light cut through the air.

The demon puppet was sliced clean in two, its body falling in pieces to either side of Jing Yun.

Yang Sheng looked stunned at the newcomer. Jing Yun, now upright again, caught Yang Sheng’s expression and turned nervously to see for himself—then froze on the spot.

“You—you’re that demon slayer…” He was so scared he couldn’t even speak clearly.

The boy held an old silver sword in his hand, its blade radiating intense spiritual energy. His cold green eyes swept over Jing Yun. “Move.”

The moment he spoke, his wrist turned, and sword light flared. Each strike went straight for the demon puppets’ hearts, his precision and skill leaving everyone astonished.

Yang Sheng pulled Jing Yun aside. One look at the sword, and he recognized it immediately. “Be careful not to get stabbed by him. You won’t recover in a week.”

“Huh?” Jing Yun jumped. “Why not?”

As Yan Shanyue passed by, controlling the puppets nearby, she added, “He’s carrying demon slayer power. Any demon that gets close will be hurt.”

From the air, Yang Ling remarked, “No wonder this guy’s so good at killing puppets. He’s got a cheat code.”

The silver-sword-wielding youth fought fiercely among the ruins. While his close combat skills couldn’t compare to Wei Huan or Yun Yongzhou, he was still impressive among the younger generation. After clearing out the puppets around him, he stabbed his demon slayer blade into the ground and closed his eyes, muttering some unknown incantation. In that instant, the sword erupted with a surge of silver aura, spiritual power flowing down the blade and into the earth.

Screeches rang out in waves.

Yun Yongzhou landed with Wei Huan, their wings retracting. Since the green-eyed youth had appeared, the once-unending stream of puppets seemed to slow. Some vanished before they could even be seen clearly—leaving them with no target.

“Thank you,” Wei Huan said.

The green-eyed boy looked at him, a glance that reminded Wei Huan of the one he’d received back at the tavern.

In that moment, he understood—the boy had recognized him back then.

Supporting his arm, Wei Huan stepped closer. “Are you the boy I saved seven years ago in the border canyon?”

Those lake-colored green eyes trembled slightly, rippling like water.

He opened his mouth, but what he said wasn’t in response to Wei Huan.

“Someone is using your demon aura to awaken these puppets,” he said calmly. “The stronger the demon aura, the more fully they awaken.” As he finished, he looked at Yun Yongzhou.

Qing He finally understood. That was why, back underground, only he hadn’t felt the painful sensation of his energy being ripped away—because he was fully human.

“Leave this place.” The green-eyed boy sheathed his blade into its worn scabbard and turned as if to go.

“Wait.” Wei Huan stopped him. “What’s your name? The adoptive father you mentioned last time… is he a demon slayer from the Li clan?”

He must be—otherwise, that warning back then wouldn’t have made sense. The green-eyed boy had recognized him as a descendant of the Nine Phoenix and tried to drive him away because he knew that if his adoptive father saw Wei Huan and learned his identity, he would never let him go.

“Stop looking into the demon slayers,” the boy said coldly, in the same tone he’d used when warning him before.

He took two steps, then suddenly paused.

“My name is Mo Tong.”

Wei Huan watched him disappear into the night and ruins. Qing He tried to stop him, but Wei Huan refused.

“We’ll meet again sooner or later.”

What a cursed fate.

Yang Sheng looked around the mess and sighed. “Let’s go. We can figure it out after we get back.”

“We’re just leaving it like this?” Jing Yun sounded uneasy.

Yang Ling sighed in frustration. “Can we do anything about this? Go ahead—you deal with it.”

Suddenly, several harsh white searchlights beamed down from above, accompanied by the loud roar of helicopters. A strong wind whipped up as they looked up to see a dozen helicopters, sirens blaring.

A voice boomed from a loudspeaker:

“This is the 13th government army unit. Everyone present—whether human or demon—disarm and surrender immediately.”

What?

“You are suspected of violating interspecies border security laws and are under arrest.”