“Cough, cough, cough—!”
Dragon Xiang fell to the ground, coughing violently, spitting out large mouthfuls of blood mixed with internal organ fragnts. He felt his body beco very light, probably because the armor covering his body had been completely torn to shreds, and there was a massive hole in his chest.
The wind had stopped, the thunder had receded, only the rain continued to fall. The cold raindrops hit his body, rapidly taking away his remaining warmth.
Around him, the earth, under the influence of the Shaman King's power, had turned into scorched black earth. Scarlet poisonous mist surged from the hideous cracks that stretched for several miles.
Beneath the thick mist, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ a few faint blue lights flickered, seemingly scattered Dragon Scales.
In the distance, the unending sounds of battle echoed. He slightly opened his eyes, looking through the white mist condensed from dense water vapor, following the sounds.
Within the white mist, the Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers fought with those hideous monsters. Figure after figure fell onto the rough sand, more Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers, fewer monsters under the Shaman King's command...
Blinding scarlet soaked the sand.
So strong! So powerful, no wonder those barbarians revere him as a god... Dragon Xiang sighed inwardly.
Although he knew that the Shaman King's authority far surpassed his own in combat, and that a direct confrontation would inevitably put him at a disadvantage, with no chance of killing the Shaman King, what he hadn't expected was that, despite both being human, their strength could be so vastly different.
That feeling reminded him of when he was ten years old, confident that his martial arts had reached perfection and were unmatched in the world, and he first picked up a wooden spear to spar with an elder in his clan who was more than ten years older.
Although at that ti, his martial arts were already far superior to his peers, and even better than most elders, the gap in strength could not be completely compensated by skill.
In that sparring session, he struck the elder thirty-seven tis in a row, but failed to make the elder fall. The elder, however, only struck him three tis before he lost the ability to continue fighting...
And the gap between him and the Shaman King was also a gap in strength.
So people always think peace is the norm, but in fact, since humanity was in the age of beasts, chaos and war have never ceased. Many even believe that the fleeting glimpses of peace are rely another form of war.`
The power granted to the Shaman King by the 'chaos and war' that has existed since ancient tis is far more terrifying than the power brought to Dragon Xiang by the Chi Dragon, which can only summon wind and rain, avert misfortune, and, in so respects, is like a mascot.
In a daze, Dragon Xiang felt his body being lifted, and a sharp pain suddenly shot through his chest, causing him to cough up another large mouthful of fresh blood.
He was on the verge of fainting, but the pain stimulated him, making him a little clearer.
Steadying himself, and once his vision cleared, Dragon Xiang saw the Shaman King's gloomy face, stained with blood.~
Just as his combat power exceeded Dragon Xiang's expectations, Dragon Xiang's combat power also exceeded his expectations.
Since he began leading his army eastward, it wasn't that no one had resisted him, but none of those people could last more than five breaths in front of him. Yet, Dragon Xiang was able to fight him for nearly an incense stick's worth of ti, cut off one of his arms, and leave him with non-trivial injuries on his body...\"
It had been a long ti since he had felt death approaching in a fight. It was truly rare for Dragon Xiang to make him feel even a hint of death's approach.
Pleasant!~
“I didn’t expect you to be able to do this much. Very good! But if you think you can stop this Seat with just this, it’s far from enough.”
“Is that so?” Dragon Xiang struggled to twitch the corner of his mouth, revealing a playful smile. “To be praised by the Great Shaman King, should this King feel fortunate?”
“Of course,” the Shaman King calmly said.
If not for this praise, if not for Dragon Xiang bringing him long-lost pleasure, he would not even bother to say another word to Dragon Xiang before his death.
“It’s a pity, you had the chance to beco a capable subordinate of this Seat...”
He truly admired Dragon Xiang, especially the reckless aura Dragon Xiang displayed when fighting him.
And those Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers...
Even when stabbed through the body by blades, they held on tightly; when their hands were cut off, they pounced on their opponents and bit them; and there were those madn who, even when cut to a bloody ss and falling to the ground, would still cling to their enemies.
They were like a human-flesh barrier, stubbornly blocking the army's advance.
For a mont, the Shaman King even felt that those Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers were more like servants transford by the grace he bestowed than the tribal warriors.
But what puzzled him was that, apart from anger and overwhelming killing intent, he couldn't feel a trace of the despair that war brought to those Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers. Even as their lives faded and they fell to the ground with unseeing eyes, their eyes still held a strange clarity, devoid of despair.
It was as if they opened their eyes wide before death, not out of unwillingness, but as if they wanted to continue witnessing sothing with those eyes even after death.
He wondered what thod Dragon Xiang had used to train them into such a state.
Disgusting!
“Heh, a capable subordinate?” Hearing the Shaman King's words, Dragon Xiang chuckled, “Then, Great Shaman King, do you think it’s still not too late for to surrender to you now?”
Upon hearing this, the Shaman King's heavy pupils trembled slightly, a fleeting look of surprise flashed, and then he shook his head, saying, “A dog that has bitten once, no matter what, has no value in living...”
As he spoke, a slight air blast echoed, and his thick, solitary arm's muscles tensed. His massive palm forcefully pinched five deep indentations into Dragon Xiang's neck.
The final act of rcy was over, bringing Dragon Xiang's life to an end.
However, just as he was about to crush Dragon Xiang's throat, Dragon Xiang suddenly grinned, revealing a malicious smile that puzzled him.
“Shaman King, have you ever heard of a miracle flower existing in this vast Gobi Desert?” Dragon Xiang said, and the Spiritual Energy that had been depleted and stopped flowing, surged again.
The next mont, a rich, fragrant scent perated from within his body.
Blinding golden flas ignited from beneath his body, illuminating his gradually ferocious smile, montarily stunning the Shaman King.
In a trance, a low chanting sound echoed in the air.
The sound was not from Dragon Xiang, but from a distant, elusive place, ethereal and indistinct.
“May the fragrance perate the world now, sacrificing one's life, enduring the ten calamities of the three realms, the seven misfortunes and four sufferings, dispelling all chaotic thoughts and evil words, guiding souls to the right path, purifying all evils, and forever enjoying light and joy...”
As the murmuring sound began, golden flas spread from Dragon Xiang to the Shaman King's arm, rapidly outlining dense Spell marks.
Seeing this, Dragon Xiang couldn't help but laugh wildly, “Hahahaha! In this battle, this King has won!”
“To use this body to stop the conflict and extinguish the flas of war, what harm is there in dying!”
“Ten thousand deaths... what harm!”
As Dragon Xiang's words fell, the Shaman King imdiately sensed that sothing within him, sothing related to his authority, had quietly connected with Dragon Xiang.
Almost instantly, he judged from the scattered Spiritual Energy fluctuations that this was a Spell originating from Zoroastrianism.
No wonder that little brat Hong Bian hadn't shown up yet; he was preparing this sche in the shadows... How boring! the Shaman King thought.
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Although he sensed that this Spell was likely to cause him serious injury, he had no intention of retreating.
The unparalleled Shaman King, born from bathing in blood and flas, would only make others fear him. How could he choose to temporarily avoid conflict because of fear of others?
Either slay the enemy with his blade, or fight until death—that's what's satisfying, that's what lives up to his authority!
Moreover, even if Hong Bian had planned for a long ti in the shadows, and even if Dragon Xiang sacrificed himself for this Spell, it would not be enough to harm his life.
All power and suffering that cannot kill him will only please him and beco a help for him to beco stronger.
So, it's all over!
As he pondered, he suddenly exerted force with his hand, and then solidified Spiritual Energy surged from his body, transforming into a semi-illusory, semi-real dark hand wreathed in red light, enveloping Dragon Xiang's body.
At that mont, Dragon Xiang felt an unprecedented agony spreading from the depths of his soul, and heard continuous shattering sounds—the lant of a body about to collapse, the ripples stirred by the breaking of the Chi Dragon Spirit Mark.
The next mont, a black pillar of light, filled with malice and despair, spewed flas into the sky, piercing through the clouds that covered the heavens, dyeing the night sky in the colors of blood and fire. Dragon Xiang's vision was enveloped in crimson, as if the entire world had fallen into an abyss of blood and fire.
At this mont, an earth-shattering roar erupted.
“No life without death, what harm in ten thousand deaths—!”
As the shouts ca, figures shrouded in golden flas, enduring the Spiritual Energy that simultaneously devoured their minds and bodies, leading them into an inescapable nightmare of slaughter and despair, slowly approached.
Those were the more than seventy Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers who remained after fighting until this mont.
In a trance, seeing the figures of those Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers, Dragon Xiang's mouth twitched.
Farewell, may you be reborn into a good world, live in peace and prosperity, free from the suffering of war... Dragon Xiang silently recited the words he was too weak to speak, then closed his eyes.
The Shaman King had misunderstood one thing.
The Spell that Hong Bian had planned for a long ti did not sacrifice Dragon Xiang alone, but all of the Long Xiang Army on this battlefield.
And Hong Bian also knew that even sacrificing everyone would make it difficult to kill the Shaman King, so this Spell was not ant to take his life, but only to seal his Spiritual Energy, awaiting the descent of the Divine Kingdom Jade Gate to forever suppress him in the sand sea.
“Rustle—rustle—!”
In the distance, Yun Pass, which had been entrenched on the earth, seed to be scattered by the wind, rising with it and gradually fading, as if it was about to rge into this Gobi Desert.
Following that, faint sounds ca from the sky. Streaks of quicksand, from the blood-red night sky, scattered down like a breached sand sea in the heavens, falling onto the Shaman King’s bulky body, which was enveloped in golden flas, stirring up surging ripples.
“Everything you do is in vain. As long as the fires of war do not cease in this world, I, Que Pi Jia, will not be defeated!” the Shaman King roared, like an unwilling bellow, and also like a malicious Spell.
In that roar, he reached out to the sky and clenched his hand.
He grabbed nothing.
The vast yellow sand passed through the gaps in his fingers, engulfing his body.
The roar stopped abruptly.
A few breaths later, on the endless Gobi Desert, only the seemingly unchanging wind continued to blow, carrying yellow sand. Whether it was Dragon Xiang, the Shaman King, Yun Pass, or those Longxiang Army Armored Soldiers, they all vanished as if they had never existed...
————
On the other side, on the dilapidated and crumbling rooftop.
Chatterbox Girl, having finished her chores, tied on her apron, tied up her long hair, and sat cross-legged on the ground. She was molding scarlet clay that resembled flesh and blood, while gazing at the projection in the sky, her brows tightly furrowed, muttering sothing softly.
Her appearance was strangely like that of a middle-aged woman doing housework while binge-watching a drama, complaining and grumbling when she saw a dissatisfying plot.
“Can this guy do it or not?! This is the 1,629th try, and it still hasn't succeeded? Does he want to drive crazy?!”
As Chatterbox Girl spoke, her hands subconsciously tightened, and her ten fingers crushed the head of the newly ford clay sculpture.
After she hurriedly collected the scattered clay and roughly reshaped it into a spherical outline, she looked up at the sky again, pausing slightly, then her face lit up with excitent.
Did it succeed?
How many tis had she tried?
One thousand six hundred and thirty tis, or... never mind, it doesn't matter anymore! Chatterbox Girl thought.
In the projected image in the sky, Lu Yibei, with a slightly pale face, held a cluster of crimson flas in her hands, seemingly identical to the fla beside her that contained the authority of Goddess Ba.
The fla flickered and danced, and as the light brightened and dimd, faint red-haired figures in Qingyi robes flashed through the firelight.
Goddess Ba's figure seed to be completely recorded within that cluster of flas.
However...
“Although the face is a bit deford and twisted, like a ghost, but the one who condensed the Spirit Mark is Lu Yibei after all, so we can't demand too much,” Chatterbox Girl pouted. “Besides, a little flaw probably doesn't matter, right?”
In her opinion, as long as Lu Yibei didn't embrace destruction, the thod by which she obtained Calamity-level power, and the extent she reached after obtaining it, were not important.
This was like recent graduates; what house or car they buy in the future, or what kind of life they lead, isn't important. What's important is finding a suitable job and taking the first step with both feet on the ground.
However, just as Chatterbox Girl was about to breathe a sigh of relief and relax, preparing to create her “new work,” Lu Yibei in the projection shook her head, then waved her hand, dispersing the Spirit Mark that had just been condensed and not yet stabilized.
“What the heck! Is she not satisfied and wants to start over? Why doesn't she have any self-awareness about her own abilities?!”
Chatterbox Girl knew very well that for Lu Yibei to condense that ghost-like face was already an extraordinary performance. To do it again, it would be difficult to do better, and to re-condense the Spirit Mark might require thousands, or even more, attempts.
However...
Lu Yibei had her own ideas!
————
In a chaotic consciousness space, Lu Yibei gazed at the cluster of flas containing the authority of Goddess Ba, slowly exhaling a turbid breath.
“......”
She hadn't expected that it would succeed like that. Although there were significant flaws, and less than fifty percent of the authority was stolen, it could still be considered a success, right?
Since the Goddess Ba recorded in the Spirit Mark, with a face twisted like a ghost, could succeed, does that an that replacing it with another appearance might also succeed?
For example, White Little Flower? Or... myself?
Lu Yibei thought secretly, adjusted her breath, and once again thodically activated the Spiritual Energy within her body.
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