Yan Yi coldly stared at the blue-haired youth before him. His aura sharpened instantly, like invisible blades slicing through the air around them.

In any world, beasts or magical beasts had an instinct: fear. Their wild intuition sensed an enemy’s strength, letting them avoid danger. Humans, by contrast, were far duller. Brain evolution had dulled some instincts. Only special training let them detect killing intent.

Yan Yi, hating trouble, had mastered his aura and killing intent to clear “minions” easily. He’d trained it so well his master once twitched his lips and snapped, “You really hate trouble that much?”

Right. Yan Yi could control his aura freely. At its lowest, he hid it completely, seeming like a powerless ordinary person—even experts couldn’t see through him. Perfect for pretending to be weak to catch the strong off guard. But Yan Yi used it just to lower his presence and dodge hassles.

At its peak, his aura terrified all living things. If Yan Yi willed it, even the dullest person would tremble uncontrollably. As long as you felt fear and weren’t near his strength, your body shook. Once, taking a shortcut, he silenced a gang war zone. Rumor said both gangs turned pale afterward.

Normally, Yan Yi avoided this—it drained him. Besides, this “map attack” only worked on weaklings. Against real threats, it was useless.

This time, his aura had one goal: instill terror. He was furious at this man. He knew—if he didn’t hold back, the youth would foam at the mouth instantly.

“Did you attack my village?” Yan Yi’s voice, thick with anger, cut through the air. The blue-haired youth trembled violently. Every cell screamed: *Run!* He hurled the Stone Sword at Yan Yi and forced himself to turn and flee. He’d never expected a random village to hide such an “old monster.”

Yan Yi blinked, slightly taken aback. *Just a little fear, and modern bandits are this weak? I only asked a question. At least answer it.*

With a flick of his left hand, Yan Yi caught the flying Stone Sword between two fingers. *Huh. Steady aim despite shaking?* He crushed it to dust effortlessly.

Then he punched forward with his right fist. The air rippled. The blue-haired youth spat blood, stumbling to collapse. Behind him, the forest—pierced earlier by stone spears—now had a gaping hole.

Despair flooded the youth. He’d felt zero mana fluctuation, yet his organs felt shattered. Only two possibilities: the enemy was vastly stronger and hid his mana, or he hadn’t used mana at all. The youth believed the first. In that instant, despair overcame fear. *If I die, you die too!*

He jammed mana into a scroll in his chest—a high-tier Blast Magic: Crater scroll. True to its name, it could carve a hundred-meter pit.

Yan Yi saw red light glow from the fallen youth’s chest. *Self-destruct?* He couldn’t sense mana, but this was close enough. He nodded. *Finally. Running away was lame.* With a trace of respect for the bandit’s resolve, Yan Yi moved before the youth fully collapsed. A swift motion—and the youth’s horrified expression vanished.

A deafening boom shook the sky. The ground trembled twice. Thankfully, the magic was clean—only energy, no debris. Yan Yi looked up. The sky was clear. Three moons hung normally, ringed by a perfect circle of clouds.

As for the bandit leader? Badly wounded, no time for mana defense—he was probably dust.

“The moons are still full tonight…”

…

Yan Yi walked slowly back to the village. Not by choice—he was preparing excuses. He’d be grilled endlessly. Lies piled on lies were hard to maintain. But he shrugged it off; he rarely lied anyway.

Back in Ink Village, villagers had doused the burning houses. Torches lit the central square where everyone gathered, discussing next steps.

Seeing the crowd—and Mo Ping among them—Yan Yi suddenly wanted to bolt. *This won’t be fun.*

“Little Yi, thank you for saving the village,” Mo Ping called out. Yan Yi sighed and approached. “It’s nothing, Uncle. I’m part of Ink Village.”

“But we must thank you. Without you, my wife and everyone would’ve been in danger. I thank you on their behalf.” Mo Ping began to bow. Yan Yi panicked. *If he bows, Mo Qing will use it to guilt-trip me forever. She’d totally do that.*

“No, no, Uncle! You’re the village head; I’m just a villager. This is my home. You’re all family. No need for this.”

Yan Yi froze mid-sentence. *Oh no. I’m doomed.*

Sure enough, Mo Qing’s lips curled slightly. Mo Ping spoke firmly: “Exactly, Little Yi. We’re family. Family helps and trusts each other, right?”

*Run!* Yan Yi turned—but villagers had silently surrounded him.

“Alright,” Mo Ping declared, settling onto a chair from nowhere. “We now hold a public trial for Little Yi’s crime: hiding his strength and deceiving his family.”

“Guilty! Sentence: free labor for all villagers.”

“Wait—ain’t that what I always do? Hold on, guilty of what? Where’s the trial process?!” Yan Yi protested. Mo Ping remained calm. “Defendant resists. Call the witness.”

A bachelor uncle, close to Yan Yi, stepped forward. “Little Yi, you lied to me! We promised to stay weak together! Now you’re off to Central Magic Academy!” He sobbed dramatically. Yan Yi groaned. “Stop, Uncle! I didn’t choose that! I really planned to stay weak!”

Mo Qing emerged next, “heartbroken.” “Little Yi, Auntie loves you most. Yet you hid Class A strength, pretending to be a newbie? I’m so hurt.”

Yan Yi’s stomach churned. “Wait! I didn’t lie! Auntie, I *am* a newbie! My mana isn’t hidden—it’s genuinely zero!” He raised his hand solemnly. “If I’m lying, may I—”

The three moons suddenly dimmed. Cold sweat dripped down Yan Yi’s spine. “—may I work for you every day without complaining!”

“Perfect,” Mo Ping nodded. “With your speed, no need to leave early. Stay until school starts. Fix everyone’s houses meanwhile.”

“Wait! Why am I still punished?”

“You have the right to remain silent.”

“But I have something to say! I want my lawyer!”

“You have the right to remain silent!”

“I—”

“You have the right to remain silent!!!”

“I… I remain silent.”

Under Mo Ping’s authority, Yan Yi surrendered. Grumbling, he trudged off to chop wood.

He sighed, smiling wryly. Mo Ping and Mo Qing staged this to ease villagers’ doubts. Yan Yi’s sudden power shift was hard to accept. The solution was simple: show he was still the same Yan Yi—helping daily, joking around, unchanged.

He sighed again. “Why must this rest on my exhaustion? I just wanted to be lazy…”