Legend of the chosen ones: Beyond Destiny Chapter 112 - 89: Darkness

"Fucking hell..."

Slan glared at Ji Jue's face, feeling the familiar chill...

This little shit was serious.

Without Lou Feng having to remind him, just from entering this place, he had fully experienced the power contained within rcury's legacy.

As a Wandering Knight, a mber of the Wild Dog rcenaries, everyone was here to earn foreign currency. Even if it ant licking blood from the edge of a knife, one had to choose whose blood to lick; so blood couldn't even be touched without being toxic.

He wasn't so anonymous killer or assassin from Desert Market who could just change his na and avoid the storm; would he really offend a future master of Embers with his real na?

Even if Slan was stubborn, he had to consider the others in his team.

After all, everyone was working for a paycheck; if the final paynt could be secured, who would really give their heart and soul for a boss?

He had insisted, fought for it, evidence was left behind. It wasn't that the bros weren't diligent, but the opposition was too formidable; they couldn't be carried through, and though they had lost the battle, at least the boss's head was saved in the literal sense.

Even at a heavy loss...

Who wouldn't shed a tear at that, then fork out several tis the compensation?

Besides, weren't the gains all for the boss anyway? What did it have to do with him?

Slan sighed, turned around, and took another look.

He pursed his lips.

Two more boxes were tossed over. One was filled with broken alchemy creations, remnants left by rcury. The other contained containers that looked like amber, with a faint and hazy glitter inside, like the flickering fla in the wind.

Those were blessings found in rcury's Blessing Room; after four centuries, without maintenance, eleven had reverted to their basic original shapes but still held imasurable value for the craftsn of the Heavenly Origin System.

"The stuff is right here."

Slan slowly moved the blade away, eyeing Ji Jue, "This is the only ti the price goes up, brother. You better think it through."

Ji Jue quietly looked at him, silent, uttering no word.

He suddenly raised the butt of his gun, swung it down, smashing it onto Lou Feng's back of the head, knocking him out cold. Then, he lowered the gun, and in front of everyone, his hand slid over Lou Feng's body.

Glasses, buttons, rings, wristwatches, bracelets, necklaces...

Everything with a glint of spiritual quality was pulled off by him and tossed into the bed of the bull cart. Finally, rcury's light converged, wrapping around Lou Feng, forming bonds and ropes.

"Now, let's exchange hostages."

Ji Jue unapologetically pulled out the plastic explosives from his pocket, squeezed them in his hand, causing Slan's eyelids to twitch wildly.

But in the end, he said nothing, cut the spear shaft that ran through An Ran, and, holding the silent youth in his hands, stepped towards Ji Jue.

Until they were inches apart.

The two of them gazed silently at each other. For a mont, Slan seed like he wanted to say sothing, but at last, he just smirked self-mockingly and silently placed An Ran into the cart.

He reached out his hand to Ji Jue.

And just like that, he took the dying Lou Feng and slowly backed away a few steps before turning to his subordinates.

From start to finish, his subordinates had been waiting for Slan's command. But in the end, Slan didn't say a word, or issue any signal for a sudden attack.

They simply let the cart disappear into the darkness.

"Collect the bodies, let's withdraw."

He raised his finger, glancing at the ring, which still bore the undissipated blackness, a true harbinger of misfortune, "This place isn't good. Who knows what other fucked-up things will pop up next..."

He sighed and took one last glance at the end of the hall, into the heart of the transformation.

He would never take this kind of grave-digging job again.

It's bad luck!

.

"Brother Ji Jue?"

In the narrow, collapsed corridor, An Ran obediently raised his hand, allowing Ji Jue to bandage his wounds: "Sorry, I held us back."

"If you're holding us back, what am I? A dead weight?"

Ji Jue rolled his eyes, wanting to give him a knock on the back of the head, but seeing his pitiful look, he couldn't bring himself to do it: "What were you thinking, being so hard-headed? It's only a few hundred bucks. If we can't fight them, can't we still run?"

"It's different."

An Ran shook his head, "White Deer and Embers are different."

It should be said, that was precisely why he had co to the Crack Realm.

To seek out blessings and further advancent, a Chosen One must align themselves with their Superior.

Unlike the creations and innovations of the Heavenly Origin System, what the White Deer Path represents is wildness, primitiveness, freedom, and defiance. Stripping away all civilized facades, abandoning all pretense of order, returning to the true nature of beings, and choosing one's path and life at will.

What He practiced was the path of wildness, celebrated was the naked survival of the fittest.

The strong control everything, dominate everything; the weak should bow down in obedience, endure abuse, or rise to fight, to either die or win.

This power, when used for justice, could be the dagger thrust towards the oppressor. When used for evil, it beca a tool to oppress the weaker.

However, for the followers of the White Deer Path, there's no such thing as good or evil; right, wrong, kindness, or wickedness are all aningless concepts. Morality is but a hypocritical discourse. Quite the contrary, because it is strong, goodness has aning, and evil is to be feared. For the weak, whether right or wrong, it's all just a joke.

Precisely because of this, the Desert Market was created— an organization both strange and huge, so chaotic that even its internal factions never ceased their relentless strife, barely able to unify, yet flourishing in tumult.

The simplest way to obtain the blessing of the White Deer was just one— to overco the stronger by being weaker.

To challenge those more powerful, risking one's life and everything, to prove the disparity between them, using bloody conquests and death as stepping stones to ascend higher. Of course, if the one killed was a Chosen One from the Heavenly Origin System, that would be even better.

The White Deer especially treasured the death of Tian Yuan's followers, as though once the Chosen Ones of Tian Yuan gained a bit of power, they loved to start carving up the White Deer's followers.

"Unfortunately, it was just a bit short."

An Ran sighed with regret, "Misjudged one step. A bit stronger, and perhaps victory was possible."

"If you truly wanted to win, then perhaps that sword shouldn't have been aid at Lou Feng?" Ji Jue suddenly asked, plunging little An into silence.

If the goal was to obtain the blessing, then that crucial strike shouldn't have targeted Lou Feng.

Facing the Returning Ho Knight Order alone, breaking through their defenses and their encirclent, if that life-risking sword had been aid at Slan... could he have defended against it?

He was willing to sacrifice his own life rely to draw fire for Ji Jue, seizing the most precious opportunity.

Without little An, even if Ji Jue could sneak by the workshop to get close to Lou Feng, it wouldn't be so easy to decisively take him down with the Ghost Work Ball.

"Did you never think about what would happen if I didn't catch on in ti?"

Ji Jue sighed, "Such matters, at least discuss them with , right? Don't just rush in headstrong, what if sothing really happens to you, how am I to explain to Sister Wen?"

Little An thought for a mont, then answered seriously, "I believe Brother Ji Jue would definitely seize the chance."

Smack!

In the end, Ji Jue couldn't hold back and gave the back of his head a smack.

"Turn over."

Ji Jue said, "The wounds on your back need to be treated too."

"Oh."

Little An obediently turned over, revealing the scars on his back.

Besides the most dangerous penetrating wound to his waist and abdon, his arms, neck, face, and legs were also covered with many wounds. Fortunately, Ji Jue rembered his training as an Ergency Lifeguard, and the recent anatomy and surgery lessons hadn't been neglected. At the very least, he was capable of ergency treatnt.

Besides, with Non-attack there, even sutures were unnecessary. He directly used spiritual operation to join the slashed muscles, seal the bleeding points, and even stitch the blood vessels...

The dicine that little An carried was frighteningly effective. After a round of operations, except for the wounds on his waist and abdon which still needed so ti, the other places had nearly healed.

However, while dealing with the injuries on his legs, Ji Jue was startled by the condition of his right leg... A nail as thick as his thumb had been driven straight into the knee.

It was an alchemy creation, filled with the breath of a curse, black light circulating, inhibiting the wound's Recovery, and even destroying the newly ford flesh while fusing it with his bones.

What made Ji Jue's hair stand on end was the malice on it—according to his readings and senses, the nail was not indestructible, but the mont of its destruction would leave an indelible spiritual imprint on the remover.

It was a warning.

Whoever dared to remove this nail from him was declaring themselves an enemy of the An Family.

"...Even as a family punishnt, isn't this too much?" Ji Jue frowned and reached out to read and dismantle the Spiritual Circuit on it but was stopped by little An.

"Don't worry, Brother Ji Jue, this is my sister's kindness."

Little An smiled slightly, "As long as my sister's nail is there, other mbers of the family cannot intervene. If soone else removes the punishnt nail, I would forever not count as a mber of the family."

"..."

Ji Jue fell silent, unsure of how to react to such a bizarre family custom. But since little An opposed it, he had no right to override his wishes.

And, in the brief silence, he could feel the vibrations from the workshop growing more intense.

As if sitting atop a volcano on the verge of eruption.

This ever-shifting core was continuously extracting spiritual matter, giving birth to so unprecedented terror of transformation... In the spiritual world of Ghost Work Ball, countless complicated circuits were growing wildly, like a furious tree.

As if intending to spread everywhere, covering everything.

To envelop the entire Crack Realm once more.

And in that instant, he heard an unprecedented, heartbreaking wail of despair.

It was as though it ca from the terror and grief of Hell!

From the very heart of the core, a place sealed in darkness...

Amidst roaring noises, the layered sealed doors suddenly shattered.

What burst forth was a surge of spiritual entities, having nearly dissolved to the point they could no longer maintain their shapes or outlines.

The Shepherd from the Dragon Sacrifice Ceremony, Invisible!

But the once unassailable Chosen One, the Shepherd following the Dragon Transformation Path, was now completely bereft of reason, reduced to such a pitiable state.

Wails, moans, roars, curses.

All in vain.

It writhed, struggled, wept, continuously casting out resentful spirits, trying to escape from the dark horror behind it, which clung to it like festering maggots in bone.

The darkness was silent, as tranquil as Hell itself.

Now, the gates of Hell burst open thunderously.