obsession

The cold white divine power surrounding Zhi Huan surged wildly, attempting to force the poison out of his body. But the poison seemed to have taken root, clinging firmly to his divine veins. The more he urged his divine power, the faster it spread. The vines that entangled him tightened, oozing juices that even penetrated his wounds and penetrated his flesh, intensifying the numbness.

Wu Yi watched him struggle, slowly took two steps back, and leaned against the black stone beside him. The wound on his arm had broken open again, and blood had stained most of his shirt red. Even his breathing had become rapid.

"This poison may not kill you. After all, I still haven't figured out how to kill you. Last time, I stabbed your heart with the sword three times, and you still survived. I'm really puzzled... But at least it can prevent you from using your true divine power for half an hour."

Yingtang wanted to go forward to help him reinforce the vines, but Wu Yi stopped him by shaking his head.

"Senior sister, don't come over here."

"This poison vine relies on my own spiritual power to sustain it. Once I leave, the vine will disperse. Although Zhihuan can't mobilize his spiritual power, his physical strength is still there, and he won't be able to hold out for long. You...must take Xiaoyou away quickly."

"I'll cover your retreat!"

Yingtang's light green spiritual power condensed in his palm, "I can give you another layer of protection, and also help you heal the poison—"

"no!"

Wu Yi interrupted her, his eyes flashing with spiritual power, as if filled with tears.

"Xiao You needs someone to protect her. If you leave, the two of them won't be able to hold on. I'm here, at least I can hold them off for a while..."

"no!"

Yunxiu would certainly not agree. Everyone knew what would happen if Wu Yi was left alone to face Zhi Huan at this time.

But Yingtang and Yanxiu didn't say anything.

Yan Xiu held the Broken Water Sword, looking at Wu Yi's figure leaning against the black stone, and looking at the sap-filled vines wrapped around Zhi Huan.

This may be the only way at the moment.

"Let's go." Yan Xiu finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse. He raised his hand to protect Yun Xiu behind him, his eyes fixed on Wu Yi.

"Senior Brother Wu Yi!"

Yunxiu was being pulled forward by Yan Xiu and couldn't help but look back. She saw Wu Yi leaning against the black stone, waving at her. The bloodstains on his blue shirt were particularly glaring in the morning light, but he still smiled brightly.

"We're going to kill Zhi Huan anyway, so why not kill him here? Why wait until we get back to Yaoxi Mountain?"

Yan Xiu held her back and lowered his voice: "Do you think we haven't tried it before?"

Yunxiu suddenly remembered what Wu Yi had just said—"I pierced your heart three times with my sword last time..."

That's right. Wu Yi and Yan Xiu had probably sent her away, having already tried many times to kill this culprit from her past life, but they hadn't been able to do it.

An even more terrifying thought crept into Yunxiu's mind: Since the ancient god Gao and she shared the same fate, perhaps only when she died, or the ancient god died, would Zhihuan truly die.

She suddenly looked back and saw Wu Yi and Ying Tang both looking at her, without any surprise in their eyes.

They knew... they had known it for a long time. This was the only thought left in Yunxiu's mind.

"You must arrive before Zhihuan. There's something in there that you must get..."

She heard Yan Xiu say this in a trance.

At this moment, Wu Yi seemed to remember something and suddenly pulled something out of his pocket and threw it towards Yunxiu. The object drew a faint arc in the air, with a warm luster, and landed right in Yunxiu's palm.

Yunxiu subconsciously clenched her fist, feeling a faint warmth in her palm. She paused and looked down. It was a palm-sized statue, carved from a single block of transparent white jade. It depicted the ancient god. The details were exquisite; one could clearly see the god's flowing silver hair, his hands forming hand seals, and even the lines on his robes.

The jade was rubbed to a particularly smooth state, obviously having been worn close to the body for many years, and there were still faint traces of spiritual power on the edges.

Wu Yi's voice drifted over on the wind:

"Take it, go ahead! I can sense it... I'll follow it to find you. As long as I have it, no matter how far you go, I can find you."

Yunxiu looked up and wanted to say something, but saw that Wu Yi had turned around and faced Zhi Huan again. The light blue spiritual power condensed again, obviously preparing to deal with Zhi Huan.

"Let's go." Yan Xiu gently pulled Yun Xiu's wrist.

"If he doesn't leave now, his efforts will be in vain."

Yunxiu nodded.

The warmth of the jade came through her palm, gradually calming her panicked heart.

She took a last look at Wu Yi's back, and at Zhi Huan who was entangled in poisonous vines and roaring madly, then turned around and followed Yan Xiu and Ying Tang, walking quickly towards Yaoxi Mountain.

The thin ice on the mountain path was broken by their footsteps, making a "crackling" sound.

Yingtang walked on the other side, raising his hand from time to time, using light green spiritual power to help Yan Xiu stabilize his injuries and help Yunxiu strengthen the barrier around him.

At this moment, at the foot of the mountain path, Wu Yi leaned against the black stone, watching the three people walk away, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. The vines wrapped around Zhi Huan had begun to loosen somewhat, and the light green sap was seeping out less and less.

His spiritual power is almost exhausted.

Zhi Huan was panting heavily, the poison still raging in his body, but he still relied on his physical strength to pull the vines bit by bit:

"Wu Yi...just wait...wait until I break free...I'll make you pay the price!"

Wu Yi grinned. Although the pain from the wound on his arm nearly made him faint, he still raised his hand and gathered the last bit of spiritual power, tightening the vines a little more.

"You're still pretty stubborn."

"Hey, tell me, what is your original form? It's not 'grudge', right?"

Zhi Huan looked at Wu Yi fiercely. Wu Yi did not get angry, but replied with a smile: "That's too pitiful."

He knew he couldn't hold on for much longer. Wu Yi touched his chest, which was now empty.

The wind, wrapped in the chill of the mountain path, swept over Wu Yi's bleeding shoulders and neck, blowing the loose hair on his forehead sticking to his skin. Mixed with cold sweat, it made him unable to open his eyes.

The spiritual power in his fingertips was as weak as a candle in the wind. The vines wrapped around Zhihuan were trembling visibly, and juice dripped down the vines, forming a small pool of shimmering water on the ice surface.

It was his remaining spiritual energy that was holding him up. Every second he held on, the wounds all over his body felt like they were being cut by a blunt knife.

Zhi Huan's roar still echoed in his ears, filled with resentment and rage.

His right hand was tightly grasping the vine wrapped around his waist. Cold white divine power was running around at the broken end, and sparks were occasionally splashed out and landed on the vine, causing the originally tough branches to be scorched in an instant.

Wu Yi's eyes fell on the hand and his heart skipped a beat.

The three previous attempts to pierce his heart failed to kill him. Would the result be different if his limbs were severed?

This thought took over his mind like a wildly growing vine, instantly overwhelming the severe pain throughout his body.

"Cough..." He suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood, and the blood foam splashed on the blue shirt on his chest, spreading a small dark red patch.

He straightened up slowly, his ribs aching as if they were about to break with every movement. Cold sweat trickled down his jawline, dripping onto the ice chips on the ground, melting into tiny droplets of water in an instant. Zhi Huan seemed to notice his movements, and he looked up and glared at him fiercely, the murderous intent in his eyes almost solidifying.

Wu Yi didn't say anything, but slowly raised his right hand.

The light green spiritual power at the fingertips began to surge wildly, even stronger than when it was condensing into vines before.

The scattered, poisonous vine fragments on the ground seemed drawn by an invisible force, gathering towards his fingertips, intertwining with his spiritual power and gradually solidifying into the shape of a sword. The blade glowed with a cold, pale green light, and the blade was still stained with a fine layer of poison, revealing an eerie stickiness in the morning light.

"I...have more than just this ability."

His voice was hoarse as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper, revealing a quiet ruthlessness. He gripped the poisoned sword and stumbled towards Zhi Huan, each step treading on the stains of his own dripping blood, leaving a trail of dark red footprints.

Zhi Huan's expression finally changed. He could clearly sense the threat posed by the poisoned sword, even more so than the vines before. The poison was so potent it was practically seeping through the air into his very flesh.

He struggled desperately, his knuckles clenched white as he tried to break free from the vines. But the vines, as if aware of their master's determination, only tightened their grip, clenching pale green poison into his wounds. This made his divine power even more chaotic, and even his breathing became rapid.

"Get out of here! How dare you... How dare you?!"

Zhi Huan roared, and in his left hand, he gathered the remaining cold white divine power that had not been corroded by the poison and waved it towards Wu Yi.

But just as the divine power reached mid-air, it was blocked by the pale green light on the poison sword. Like ice and snow encountering a raging fire, it melted away instantly, leaving only a wisp of light white smoke, which didn't even touch the corner of Wu Yi's clothes.

Wu Yi seized this opening, lunging forward. With all his might, he swung the poisoned sword towards Zhi Huan's right wrist. The blade slashed through the air with a sharp hiss. His arm trembled violently from the exertion, and the wound opened again. Blood flowed down his arm, dripping onto the poisoned sword, mixing with the venom and making the blade's glow even brighter.

“Puff—”

The sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh was particularly clear on the empty mountain path. The poison sword precisely struck Zhi Huan's right wrist bone, the pale blue blade instantly sinking into the flesh, severing bone and tendons.

Blood gushed out like a fountain, splashing on Wu Yi's face, carrying a warm fishy smell that made his skin numb.

Just kidding, he is a tree and doesn't eat meat.

Zhi Huan let out a shrill roar, and his whole body began to tremble violently. The cold white divine power surged wildly in his body, as if it wanted to shatter his internal organs, and even the vines wrapped around him were shaking.

Wu Yi staggered back a few steps, staring at his right hand that fell to the ground.

His breathing was so rapid that it seemed like he was about to explode, his chest heaving violently, and he even temporarily forgot the pain of the wound.

He was waiting, waiting for an answer, waiting to see if this severed hand would grow back like the previous heart wound.

Time seemed to slow down, and every second seemed to be extremely long. The only sounds on the mountain path were Zhi Huan's breathing and Wu Yi's heartbeat. The wind was wrapped in chill, causing the severed hand on the ground to shake slightly, and the fingertips were still twitching unconsciously.