I Refused To Be Reincarnated
Chapter 575: The Wrong Kids to Mess With

Chapter 575: The Wrong Kids to Mess With

Two blurs cleaved through plains and forests, each determined step bringing them closer to Baldur’s last crime scene.

Before the sun burned in the middle of the sky, they halted, their eyes narrowing on a fuming town.

The thick scent of dust permeated the air, its dense particles drifting by the dilapidated houses. Gravels littered the ground, hiding crushed bodies under its merciless weight. A group of cultivators wearing their sect robes unburied the dead, revealing their dry skin and withered muscles.

Misha’s pupils constricted as she observed them throw the brittle corpses into a giant brazier of roaring flames to send them off with a sliver of dignity.

"No doubt. Baldur killed and absorbed their life forces. What a bastard." She clenched her trembling fists and tugged at Adam’s sleeve urgently. "Where did he go?"

Adam’s sky-blue eyes glowed as he scanned the surrounding mana.

Unnatural dark wisps swirled throughout the village, contaminating the bright elements with a shade of horror.

He followed the faint trail drifting further west and nodded at Misha.

"He can escape cultivators, but he can’t escape us."

With a gesture at her and moving like a ghost, he rushed west for dozens of kilometers.

The trail grew more apparent as they crossed a forest, and when they reached a mountain, he could almost taste the vile aura suffusing the thick air. But more importantly, a defiant fire ignited in his heart as he felt a suppressed life force hidden inside a cave.

Despite the possibility of a random beast, the dense mana, akin to the demonic cleaver’s miasma, burned brighter than a lighthouse for his mythical eyes.

"We found him. Ready, Misha?"

"To save innocents and rid the realm of this prick? Always!"

Sharp claws the size of blades sprouted from her fingers as her teeth elongated into terrifying fangs. Her smooth skin hardened, keratin coating it in a thin yet durable layer that made Adam whistle.

Meanwhile, bright light particles condensed in his hand. As they faded, a polished wooden frame of unmatched quality appeared. Triangular blades protruded from its sides and reflected the sun’s light as the engravings pulsed, as though the tier seven mythical macuahuitl shared its eagerness to leave the soul sea.

Upon seeing it, Misha forgot about Baldur for a second. Her eyes widened before her cheeks puffed into a pout.

"When did you make it? Keeping secrets from your sister. You won’t get away with it. I want a weapon, too. Something with a butterfly viper fang blade and a cute pommel. Stylish and deadly." She winked.

Adam facepalmed. She clearly didn’t see Baldur as a threat... Well, he didn’t either. This joke of a mage abused the weak to strengthen himself in a perpetual cycle of violence and grief. Someone like him? He scoffed and focused on Misha, his opinion of Baldur no higher than that of an insect.

"Keep it a secret since I crafted it with mana long ago." He sighed at her expectant gaze and gave in. "Anything you want, princess. Let me save a few sect points to buy the best materials."

Then, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"Now focus on Baldur. He spotted my mana."

As if to answer him, a fear-inducing, deep voice laced with venom reverberated, causing his fingers to tighten around his macuahuitl and Misha to growl like a tiger.

"I made myself clear last time. I told you I won’t join your pathetic order. Or do you take my warnings as jokes? Get lost before I come out, rip you to shreds, and feed on your carcasses!"

Baldur stopped in his tirade abruptly before the cave’s mouth stirred, and the noise of rushed footsteps echoed.

"Who possesses so much mana? Reveal yourself!!"

Adam observed the emerging man’s raven hair flutter over his abyssal eyes—ones crackling with unholy power. The broad scythe, seemingly an amalgamation of dried blood and vile energies, glinted in his direction. The horrible scent it released caused Misha’s sharp nose to scrunch and her body to shudder beside him as the man’s brows furrowed.

"Two kids?"

Adam’s lips curled into a crooked, vicious smile. That was the kind of enemy he loved: bastards he’d obliterate without qualms.

"Correction. Your death."

Before Baldur could answer, he crouched low, Qi rushing through his meridians and mana coiling like lightning in his muscles.

The wind roared, and his robes flapped as he propelled himself forward in a sky-blue and white blur.

Misha followed closely behind him, her thighs bulging like those of a cheetah as her stomps dug pits into the rocky ground.

Baldur’s pupils constricted before his scythe flashed in a dark arc with equal speed.

CLANG

The clangour of metals colliding reverberated, and sparks flew around Adam and Baldur.

However, the dark mage’s face twisted and turned crimson. Veins bulged on his forehead and arms as the macuahuitl pushed his scythe back.

"W-What? You’re a cultivator, too?" He blurted out. But time wasn’t for questions—not when his life was at risk. And from what? A kid that didn’t look older than seven? How?

Pride stinging him and his fists trembling, Baldur abandoned the frontal confrontation and leapt back, only for his mana to rush through his circuits as a girlish voice resounded.

"How kind of you to jump at me?"

Misha snickered as her claws slashed through the air.

Yet, Baldur exhaled, regaining his composure and radiating an eerie calm as the claws grazed his back.

"Dodge, Misha!"

Adam’s warning warmed her heart, but she didn’t need it. Her bestial instincts already roared, and her legs shoved her aside with the grace of a crane—just in time to hear the scythe whistle by as the sensation of ripping through flesh didn’t register in her hand.

Confused, her eyes snapped to Baldur’s half-dissolved body and the dark mist cascading down his torso to replace his legs and envelop his right arm as it manipulated the scythe in a swift backhanded arc.

The grotesque transformation made her snort.

"A vicious strike from a vicious ant."

Baldur returned her snort as dark mana engulfed his eyes and palms.

"You misled me with your age. Not anymore. I’ll take pleasure in devouring your life forces." He licked his lips, desire and cruelty melding in his eerie smile. "Especially the kid’s mana!"

"Oh? Confident. I like it, but the only thing you’ll absorb is the earth as your bones rot six feet under."

Adam’s voice resounded behind him as his blade cleaved the air in a ruthless arc aimed to behead the dark mage.

As the blade dug into Baldur’s neck, he frowned. Instead of blood, more mist exploded outwards, blown by his strike into a shockwave. The cave rumbled next, the sharp wind pressure drilling a deep crevice in its walls.

"I survived the cultivators’ pursuit for decades. Two kids won’t kill an adept!"