Mech: Shattering of the Galaxy Chapter 1560 - 76: I Want a Person

The gracefully curved light scythe left a faint green trail as it swept through the air, clearly visible.

Little Enoch stood utterly still.

He was finding it hard to believe what was happening.

He wanted to rush forward and examine the bodies, but his legs felt as heavy as lead, refusing to move.

The muscles in Enoch's cheeks twitched uncontrollably, not from fear, but from sheer exhilaration.

A kind of excitement that bordered on madness!

How many years had it been?

Ever since his birth, he had been warned countless times never to provoke the Red Stone Clan.

The Red Stone Tribe had always been a source of dread for the tribes of this grassland!

No one had ever dared to resist, and those who tried were brutally slaughtered!

Yet, the scene unfolding before him now was something he had never even imagined in his wildest dreams.

The image of his strong, imposing father being repeatedly impaled by spears was still fresh in his memory.

And now, those same people were facing a similar, brutal retribution!

This... this is simply...

"Ah!!"

Enoch let out a hoarse cry in Mu Fan's direction.

Tears streamed down his face unchecked.

Mu Fan turned his head slightly at the sound, a cry that seemed to release pent-up emotions; Enoch’s small figure was barely noticeable by the riverbank.

This was the first time he had encountered a shred of familiar humanity in this alien universe.

'Hopefully, you won't disappoint me.'

Mu Fan shifted his gaze away, focusing once more on Hawthorn, who was struggling to remain on his knees.

A frantic drumming seemed to pound within Hawthorn's skull.

His mouth hung open, unable to close.

Dead...

All twenty members of the Udan Spear Guard were deceased.

One had been blown to pieces by a spear.

The remaining nineteen stood in a neat row, positioned in front of him, all in similar states.

He swore he had never felt such a chilling sensation crawl up his spine, not even during a beast tide.

The moment he managed to get up...

What in the world had occurred!

*Tap.*

A faint sound echoed nearby.

Hawthorn's eyes snapped back into focus, and he forced himself to lift his head.

The young man who had earlier claimed to be merely passing by was now looking down at him, his eyes holding a gaze that Hawthorn recognized all too well.

It was the look of a Hunter sizing up their captured prey.

What truly unsettled him was that this gaze held no trace of mockery, cruelty, or the exultation of victory.

The look was utterly indifferent, as if he were observing a mere stone by the roadside.

Such a gaze was characteristic only of the most elite Hunters!

Which tribe did this magnificent warrior hail from?

Could the tribes from beyond the mountains have initiated an invasion of this vast grassland?

"They..."

Hawthorn's hoarse voice managed to escape his throat, but it was immediately silenced by a cold, sharp tone.

"Are all dead." Mu Fan leaned closer, his expressionless face looming large in Hawthorn's sight.

Despite possessing the physical capability to fight, Hawthorn felt his courage completely evaporate.

[Am I truly this much of a coward?]

"I am... Red Stone..."

"I don't care who you are."

Mu Fan cut off Hawthorn's stammering once more.

With his left hand, he clamped down firmly on the top of Hawthorn's head, his fingers digging in as he lifted the man.

Hawthorn's braids were instantly pulled taut, his considerable weight slowly rising off the ground.

"—Ah!"

An intense pain shot through his scalp.

Perhaps this agony stirred a primal ferocity within him.

Acting on instinct, Hawthorn twisted his wrist, and a bone blade, less than twenty centimeters long, flew from his wrist into his palm. He lunged forward, attempting to stab.

Yet...

There was no satisfying impact, no resistance.

No sensation of the bone blade piercing flesh.

The bone blade seemed to simply vanish into an intangible void.

This...

Hawthorn's eyes bulged, veins throbbing, as he looked down with bewilderment.

A semi-transparent barrier, shimmering with a faint blue light, had materialized before the bone blade.

It was this barrier that had halted his desperate thrust.

While he was still processing this, that hand exerted a powerful grip, pulling his hunched body fully upright.

Their eyes met.

Mu Fan's gaze was as unyielding as solidified iron.

"You—"

A sudden, immense force emanated from his scalp, and his vision began to spin wildly.

Mu Fan, with a swift reverse motion, yanked on his braids, swung him around, and slammed him down.

*Boom!*

Hawthorn’s body crashed back into the earth.

He felt as though every bone in his body was on the verge of shattering.

It was a simple throwing maneuver, yet the force seemed to bypass his physical frame entirely, permeating every muscle.

All his accumulated strength was utterly nullified by that singular throw.

*Buzz!*

A streak of ethereal green light sliced through the atmosphere, appearing directly in front of him.

Hawthorn's pupils contracted to pinpricks; he watched in sheer terror as a lock of his own bloodied hair met the arc of the green light blade...

Without resistance, without a hint of hesitation...

It was cleanly severed in two, then gently drifted down to rest by his chin.

This simple, devastating action caused an overwhelming wave of fear to flood his heart; at that moment, he even forgot the searing pain in his half-torn scalp.

"You aren't from the White Armor Tribe... Why are you defending them!"

"Whatever they offered you, I can give you double!"

"The Red Stone Tribe reigns supreme on this grassland, like eagles soaring in the sky! There is nothing we cannot give you!"

Hawthorn thrashed like a cornered beast, his body writhing, yet he didn't dare let his throat brush against the long, green arc blade.

Mu Fan leaned closer, observing Hawthorn in silence, and stated plainly, "I desire one person."

"A person?"

Startled, Hawthorn quickly retorted, stressing each word, "We have people! The Red Stone Tribe boasts the largest trade market; we possess nearly ten thousand slaves. Tell me who you favor, and I shall deliver them to you!"

However, within Hawthorn's heart, venomous and humiliating fantasies brewed of returning to the Red Stone Tribe with this individual. He envisioned using the sharpest bone knife to meticulously carve flesh from the person's body, feeding it piece by piece to the river's fish!

He yearned to witness that person perish in agonizing torment!

Mu Fan met his gaze with tranquil eyes, his icy stare fixed upon Hawthorn's rapidly shifting expression.

"A girl, a girl by the surname Wang. She possesses the purest smile and the kindest heart. She does not belong in this place."

"I ask you, do... do you... have her!?"

An ominous aura, reminiscent of a ferocious ancient beast, permeated the surroundings once more.

At this juncture, Hawthorn felt an icy dread creep into his bones; he perceived a murderous intent frantically assaulting his senses.

The figure before him was not human but the most terrifying Star Beast imaginable.

"The goddess... of the White Armor Tribe?"

Hawthorn instinctively replied.

Then, he witnessed the youth's form.

Green, cold flames erupted, visible to the naked eye!

Like a conflagration scorching the prairie, the flames instantly engulfed the entire armor.

He then felt an icy hand seize his throat with fierce strength, yanking his body instantaneously from the muddy pit.

"Who did you say!!?? Where is she!"

An uncontrollable tremor laced the frigid voice.

"He was talking about our White Armor Tribe's goddess... our Teacher Wang! Who are you!?"

From behind Mu Fan, a dark-skinned, chubby young boy stood defiantly, fixing his glare upon them.