“I’m coming for you now! I’m an earth immortal—when heavenly soldiers and generals see me, they have to show respect. Even if you die by my hand, it won’t be a disgrace.” As soon as she finished speaking, she vanished from where she stood. The wind in the woods suddenly picked up, as if someone was moving rapidly, but not a single figure could be seen.

“Over the years, even demon kings have died by my hand. They were much stronger than those demons you just killed, so when you die later, don’t hold any grudges, okay?”

“If you have any unfulfilled wishes, you can tell me now. If I can help you, I’ll do my best.”

Abraham Lincoln shook his head with a wry smile. It seemed this little girl couldn’t find a reason and felt a bit guilty. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

“Heaven’s wanted orders are usually for killing demons, and every time they list the crimes those demons committed—always heinous villains. Even though your crime isn’t listed, you must have committed a capital offense too. So, don’t blame me.”

As Charles White’s voice fell, as if she had convinced herself, a sudden gust of wind swept through the forest, dead leaves swirling. Four figures appeared from all directions, each holding a gleaming dagger, stabbing toward Abraham Lincoln.

Abraham Lincoln turned around, looking at Charles White standing before him.

“How could you have seen through it!” Charles White’s expression changed, twisting her body in an instant and vanishing again. The other three clones disappeared as well.

But in a flash, eight figures appeared, all wielding short swords, stabbing at Abraham Lincoln in unison. The cold sword light shimmered with a silvery glow, as if even space itself was being sliced open.

Abraham Lincoln looked up at Charles White, who leapt high, stabbing down at his head.

“Impossible!” Charles White roared inwardly, and in a flash, vanished without a trace once more.

A gust of wind swept through the woods. Sixteen figures, ghostly and swift, charged at Abraham Lincoln from all directions. For a moment, it was a dance of demons, the black-clad girl’s figure everywhere, each one looking exactly the same.

Abraham Lincoln turned his head, throwing a punch to the right. His fist stopped half an inch from Charles White’s nose.

The other fifteen figures instantly vanished. The wind from his fist blew Charles White’s naturally curly black hair to both sides, and then she fell backward, face up.

She really was knocked over by a gust of wind.

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Chapter Twelve: Help Me Up, Let Me Take Another Suck...

Charles White fell backward, eyes wide, landing with a thud on the thick carpet of dead leaves, her face full of disbelief as she muttered, “How did you spot my position?”

“Because you were too slow,” Abraham Lincoln told her honestly.

Charles White was stunned for a moment, then looked at Abraham Lincoln, “Then why are you so fast?”

Abraham Lincoln shook his head. “I’m not really sure myself.” That was the honest truth.

After speaking, he took the white horse’s reins and turned to leave.

He hadn’t killed Charles White, not because he was afraid, but because he found this little girl rather interesting. Besides, it seemed that the so-called heavenly wanted order was used by the heavens to eliminate truly evil demons. He had no idea who had issued such an order against him. Looks like he’d have to be more careful around immortals in the future.

“Hey!”

“Hey! Monk!”

“Abraham Lincoln!”

Abraham Lincoln stopped, turning to look at Charles White, who was still lying on the ground, face pale, body twitching slightly. He said calmly, “You can’t beat me, so you can’t kill me either. Go back.”

“Says who? If I hadn’t vomited so much blood from my crane dizziness, I definitely wouldn’t have lost to you!” Charles White said stubbornly, seeing Abraham Lincoln about to turn away, she quickly shouted, “Wait, I can’t get up. Help me up and let me take a sip.”

Abraham Lincoln was about to leave, but hesitated and asked the question on his mind: “Are you a vampire?”

“Vampire?” Charles White thought for a moment, then shook her head repeatedly. “How could I be something as lowly as a ghost? I’m an immortal! But because I often cough up blood, I need to replenish my blood frequently. By your logic, you could call me a blood-sucking immortal.”

Blood-sucking immortal? Abraham Lincoln muttered as he turned, leading the horse forward. He had no intention of letting Charles White suck his blood. If he bled, it might trigger some uncontrollable events. What happened when he was twelve was still fresh in his memory.

“Really, just one sip, then I’ll go back to the heavens.”

“Fine, even half a sip is okay.”

“Wuwu... I don’t want to suck anymore. Take me with you. What if I get caught by a demon here all alone?”

Half an hour later, Abraham Lincoln was leading the horse, casually carrying a hatchet. Whenever shrubs or trees blocked the way, he easily chopped them aside, moving much faster than when he’d traveled with the two foreign servants that morning.

Charles White lay sprawled on the horse’s back, arms wrapped around its neck. With two suitcases on either side, she didn’t have to worry about falling off.

Still weak, Charles White looked up at Abraham Lincoln’s back and softly asked, “Abraham Lincoln, are you a demon or a human? Don’t monks from the West say they can’t kill? How did you kill so many demons?”