'what is strength? is it power, is it speed or is it will of a person?'

'what exactly is talent? why is it that hard-work is only hard-word if you succeed?'

'What am I? why is it that I only feel myself, am I selfish and evil?'

'The trees, the rivers, the skies, sun and the moon, the countless stars, earth and heaven

what are these exactly?'

'What is my purpose of existence? what is it that I am supposed to accomplish?'

'why is it I seek strength? I don't need it but I want it but when I need it I don't want it? why is it like that?'

'why is it? w..why is...it that....?' the old man started crying thinking all this. His tears traveled at high-speed and crashed into his long elegant white beard but there was something strange, the color of the beard; it was crimson red.

'What is life? what is death? happiness and sadness? what are these? is it that when you are happy you feel happy and when you are sad you are sad, is it truly all?' once again the old man questioned himself.

'What should I do, I can't see, I can see but I don't know how to walk, I know how to walk but I can't walk, I want to walk there but I can't' a pair of tears once again escaped from this old man's eyes. His eyes were so painful and sad yet so fierce, wrinkles on his face were clearly visible but it was strange; they were painted in red.

'why is left wrong and right right? why is darkness evil and light good? why is it that skies are symbolized for heavens and earth is symbolized for mortals?' The old man once again burst into tears.

'Killing these people and feeling no remorse, no feeling at all am I truly evil? do I enjoy killing?'

'Why is it? why? why do I yearn so much for answers? why can't I sleep in ignorance like the rest? why?' this time the old man roared in rage as he killed ten men in their prime in but a single slash.

Blood was flying in the sky as though it was floating. The sky was tainted red, the earth was red. Did heavens and earth merge? The old man was covered in blood.

Hundreds of men that were in their prime age, covered in beast fur, half naked, their bodies bulging with muscles were equipped with spears and swords, their expressions showed no fear were charging madly at his old man.

'Is it my time? Does heavens want me to die? why must I comply? why must I kill? why must I die?'thought the old man, he was deep in thought.

The old man was killing people as though they were nothing but ants, wherever his twin swords moved blood followed right after as though a master painter was painting a master piece.

The old man wasn't even looking at the people he was killing, his empty yet bottomless eyes showed that he was somewhere else. His body was moving itself, it was similar to an specialist typist who can type without even looking, this revealed that this seemingly old man was in the business of death.

The old man was not exactly harmless, his body was covered in thick blood some of which belonged to others while the rest was his own. But his face showed no pain, his body moved with no hesitation and with absolute precision, even to these fearless elites this old man inspired fear deep into their souls.

The painter pained, the writer wrote, the reader read, the killer killed and the dead were dead so were these hundred people.

As though awoken from a dream, the old man in his 90s holding his twin long swords roared with all his might, his tears were continuous, fast and stead like a moving river.

'I feel nothing for these people? but I feel because I feel nothing? Am I truly evil?' laughed the old man with bitterness.

He tried to move but his legs were shaking still he forced his slender legs forward. His right leg trembled greatly under the great pressure, he was going to fall to the ground at this point his twin swords pierced the ground and formed pillars that showed him their support.

'What is this pressure? what is heart? what is brain? is my life my life? are their life mine to take? why? why must I kill? cried the old man.

At this moment an army of 500 men surrounded this old man. The stars were in their place, the moon was there glowing like a silver bowl. The sky was still at its place and the earth still supported his weight, it was so quiet. This silence, it touched his very soul as though trying to relive him of his pain.

Suddenly the stable and fixed earth was not so stable anymore, it shook with 'thud''thud' sounds. The rumbling settled down after quite a while and there were 500 men on horse back standing right in front of him. A middle aged man from in between this mass moved towards this old man, as he moved the other solders cleared way for him, with their heads bowed, eyes staring at the ground full of respect and fear.

'Xin Xian you must die today, if you surrender now I Shu Xian give you my word that I will make it quick and give you a proper burial' The middle aged man was covered in very thick golden colored metallic armor which covered every inch of his body excluding his face which was covered with a battle helmet and there were two horns on this helmet. His horse was a wild horse which was twice as big as the others, with it together the man gave an aura of battle god.

'I loved the silence, I wish it was more quiet, brother wouldn't you let me taste silence' said the old man in a gentle tone but he was covered in blood from top to bottom, wherever he moved, blood followed as though infinetly dripping from his body.

Even this middle aged man emanating the aura of death was terrified at the sight of this old man man. He was covered in blood but his voice was gentle, his eyes were peaceful but blood it was blood, wherever he was blood was there to accompany him.

'Kill him' shouted the middle aged man coldly, he was on top of his horse holding a long lance. As soon as he gave his orders, the stable earth once again began to shook, the silence was broken with warrior's roars and the horses charge.

Seeing all this it seemed as time stopped for the old man. Everyone was charging at him but he was not looking at them. He was looking at an old tree not too far away. A dry leave twitched twice before it separated from its brethren and then it was in the air slowly floating its way to the ground.

The old man couldn't hear anything or see anything other than this dry brown leave, when it finally fell to the ground there was a very small 'tirr' sound but the old man still heard it very clearly even among all this noise.

The old man had a smile on his face, his eyes were now sharp, his body full of power. From unknown, he was now in a condition which he was connected. He felt he could finally have some answers, yes he could feel it, every cell of his body was excited on this thought. Soon there were many sounds of swords clashing. The painter once again started to paint,

the writer once again started to write, the reader once again started to read and the dead

were once again dead.

500 men were dead, lying still on the ground, some on top of the others. Even a grave yard could hardly have this many bodies. Blood was everywhere, it was like a sea of blood moving in unison.

The old man was mortally wounded, he knew he was going to die. There were countless slashes on his old weak body, even his face full of wrinkles had many slash wounds.

He struggled to move towards that tree, he picked up that dead dry leave from the ground and took it with him to the tree. As he sat under it, the tree along with the leave were painted in red.

He dug the earth with his fingers and buried the leave under the tree. He killed many, too many to even count during his life. Just today he killed nearly thousand people. Why was it that he cried always when he killed even though he killed enough for him to be able to kill while sleeping.

He was crying this time too but one could not guess for who he was crying, for those who he

killed, for himself or for this dead dry leave that he just buried.

It was peaceful, he was one with nature and everything. He was desperately trying to figure out an answer, one answer, one answer was all he asked for. But his silence was once again broken, it was a kid this time screaming and running towards this old man with tears in his eyes, crying 'save me, someone save me' three men were chasing him, their clothes were tattered, their swords were rusty and they wore no armor all this suggested that they were bandits.

The little boy crouched near the old man and hid behind him, ignoring the pile of 600 bodies, the sea of blood or the crimson blood on the old man.

The old man killed those three in an instant, it seemed as though he never moved and was sitting there just like he was before. It seemed effortless but as a matter of fact it was not, he struggled hard even to moved his shaking fingers much less use a sword effortlessly to kill but because he killed more times than he moved his fingers in his life, he was able to kill them.

The old man then looked at this kid hiding beside him. His eyes were very gentle and peaceful. He lifted his hand with great effort and placed it on top of the kid's head. The kid's hair quickly transformed from black to red but the kid didn't seem to mid at all.

The kid's hand suddenly changed into a blur as it struck into the lungs of the old man,he was holding a small dagger in his hand under the shade of his long sleeve.

It seemed as though he was an assassin. But how could the old man not know that? how could a killer not know the killing intent? The old man knew from the beginning.

Seeing that the old man didn't instantly die the kid began to tremble in fear, his body was shaking violently. He even peed himself. It was his first mission, the assassin guild thought a new boy would be able to deceive this old man and kill him.

The old man smiled gently at him revealing his shiny white teeth which were the only part of his body that weren't bathed in blood. His both eyes closed, his gentle smile followed by the petting the kid's hair made it seem as though a father was patting his very own blood related son.

The kid started to cry, he quickly pulled the dagger out from the old man's body, a stream of blood followed which quickly painted this boy's cloth red. The boy once again stabbed the old man, this time at his liver. But the old man still showed no pain nor any sign of dying. The kid finally looked at the old man. When he met his eyes, he couldn't believe it.

How could this old man show such affection for him when he clearly stabbed him which would for sure lead him to his death.

The kid was crying, it was his first time killing someone, he didn't want this old man to die now since it was his first time someone showed affection towards him and whats more in this kind of situation.

The kid burst into tears and hugged this old man whom he was supposed to kill, the old man which was to die by his hands hugged this kids still patting his head like nothing happened.

What was going on here? this sight was too abnormal to behold. The old man moved his other hand which disappeared into his red jacket, after some time it came out holding a pouch. He then threw the pouch to this young kid and pointed towards the mountains faraway towards the west with his index finger and said 'I like silence, must not kill, go there...live in peace'

The kid wasn't prepared to leave but the old man shrugged him off, the kid unwillingly started to move towards the mountains, he made a note 'never to kill'.

All that was left were 600 corpses and the sea of blood and an old man at the brink of death sitting peacefully under a tree. The old man finally had an answer but he forgot it as soon as he knew it was the answer but knowing he knew the answer for even a second made this old man truly happy.

He was laughing in satisfaction, blood was gushing out of his mouth like water out of a fountain. He could no longer breath, a normal man would kill himself under this kind of immense pain but this old man he was truly laughing with all his heart in satisfaction. The old man closed his eyes and stood up while gripping his twin swords. He moved right in the middle of those 600 corpses and stabbed his twin swords near his feet into the ground.

The swords formed a cross, he used his right hand to grip his left sword while his left hand to grip his right sword, with this even his hands formed a cross. He always wanted to do this once, dying in style. it was childish, that is true but in death nothing mattered much less the concern of it being childish.

Suddenly the dark sky was full of clouds that rushed to where the old man was, pretty soon violent rain followed. The rain wasn't able to clean away all the blood, all it did was increase the amount of the crimson sea. Then there was a sound of blast in the sky. The sky itself was ripping apart, clouds charged into each other, for a long time those sounds continued and in the middle of the night sky there were dazzling golden lights being charged.

Soon the light became so bright one wouldn't be able to look at them. The old man appreciated this, even though his eyes were closed and he was dying, he was feeling very good as though being released from all his sufferings.

He was deep in thought that when the Lightning rushed out from the clouds, forming the shape of a dragon that was several li long, it instantly crashed into the old man and for several seconds it looked like the old man was absorbing all this lightning. Like pouring tea into a cup. Then when the lightning finally stopped, there was no old man, there were no twin swords

all that remained was a crimson sea and 600 dead.

Just who was this old man? every strange thing was around him, even in death he was not normal, nobody knows if he's even dead, an army of 600 were hardly able to injure him but a kid fatally injured him. His own kin wanted him dead, he was crying whenever he killed. Who was this old man?

Let me tell you the legendary tale of Xu Xian, his life, his death and after death.

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