Chapter 123 Chapter 123
The phoenix landed lightly on a roof, calmly looking at the existence in the air, silently evaluating the other party's strength in its heart.
The other party also discovered him, and the head under the cloak turned inflexibly, pointing the black hole under the hood towards him.
"Gods of this place, we have long awaited your arrival." Like the unknown being at the beginning, this one's voice was strange and hoarse, with a strange accent. "I am the first vanguard beneath the throne, the God of Death. By the command of my king, I grant you new life."
"Oh? Freshman, you're so arrogant!" Phoenix scoffed, a fiery red light flashing in his eyes. He gently swung his pure white folding fan through the air, and a fiery red blade pierced through space and attacked the strange creature.
At this moment, Phoenix was in no mood to continue arguing with these monsters. Judging from their actions since entering this world, they had no intention of coming here peacefully.
The other party's goal is to seize the new origin of the world and restore its own vitality, but it goes without saying what the fate of a world that loses its original power will be.
The outcome of this war is either you die or I die, there will be no room for maneuver.
The dark wings behind Death quickly unfolded, carrying him backward, avoiding the attack. At the same time, black mist continuously emerged from beneath his cloak, transforming into chains that completely blocked the surrounding space. Several more, like venomous snakes, entwined and stretched toward Phoenix.
"Surrender your origins and merge with our world. The King will grant you grace and spare you from suffering." The God of Death felt his victory was assured. He didn't take the Phoenix seriously. After all—how powerful could a god from a lower world be?
"That sounds like a condescending favor." Phoenix curled his lips, but there was no smile in his eyes. This statement hit him so hard, yet the other party acted as if it was his due.
A chain finally broke through the obstacles and appeared in front of the Phoenix. The breath of death, so thick that it was almost tangible, rushed towards him, making it difficult to breathe.
However, Phoenix did not dodge, but just lightly tapped the chain with its folding fan, and a bright red flame suddenly ignited on the chain. In the blink of an eye, it spread from one chain to all chains, and burned from the end all the way to the source.
"I really don't like what you said. Please go back to where you came from." Phoenix politely used the word "please." He paused, then continued, "After all, your appearance is so shameful. It's best not to embarrass yourself in public, right? You won't lower the average appearance of our world."
He originally wanted to try to provoke the enemy, but unfortunately the God of Death could not understand what he meant and did not respond to such roundabout sarcasm.
Their understanding of this world comes only from some cultivators and demons, but being able to read memories is one thing, and understanding and applying them flexibly is another.
The scorching Phoenix fire burned along the chain. Death initially ignored it, remaining focused on dealing with the attack. It wasn't until his cloak was also ignited by the flames, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't extinguish them that he finally panicked and severed the chain from himself, as if to save himself.
After losing their source of supply, the chains quickly melted away like snowflakes. However, no one noticed that the black mist did not disappear, but instead transformed into a drop of ink, silently dripping into the ground.
Death was incredulous and said, "Why can you restrain our divine power? Impossible. You are clearly just a god from a lower world, how can you restrain me?"
"No comment." Fenghuang waved his fan calmly, and the flames were compressed into countless feathers, floating quietly behind him.
In the first round of confrontation just now, Phoenix noticed certain characteristics of the black fog - there was no way, such a strong breath of death was really hard to ignore.
Combining the hints Liuhe had given him, Phoenix quickly realized that his fire and the other's fog actually originated from the origin of each other's world. It was just that one was full of vitality, while the other was lifeless, like a pool of rotten and smelly stagnant water.
Death and rebirth are like the yin and yang fish in the Tai Chi diagram. When the strength of both sides is equal, they can coexist peacefully and offset each other, but when one side is stronger than the other, the result is self-evident.
Since the opponent's mist could be restrained by flames, it meant that his strength was not that strong, at least for a phoenix. But even so, he did not let down his guard.
He didn't understand these enemies from outside, and didn't know their tricks or back-ups. Furthermore, although Phoenix Fire could currently suppress the mist, Phoenix had no doubt that if the situation turned, the enemy's mist would have the same effect on him.
We must act quickly and decisively to avoid any further complications.
The ends of the feathers flickered with bright flames, and they all aimed at Death in unison as the Phoenix moved.
For those on the ground, the biggest threat is not the small minions, but the strange mist that constantly resurrects and heals enemies.
It was obvious that the source of the fog was the cloak, or something beneath it.
Phoenix said in his heart: Since you also have wings, I would like to see what kind of bird is under this cloak.
"go!"
In an instant, thousands of arrows were fired
…
"Brother, stop being stubborn and come home with me. Master certainly doesn't want to see you become like this." During the break in the battle, Zhiyuan tried to wake up her brother.
She battled against a group of controlled "painting immortals." They had lost consciousness, but under the influence of secret techniques, they still retained their previous cultivation, and some were even far more powerful than the Painting Saint himself.
The Painting Saint just glanced at Zhiyuan coldly, as if he didn't know her, and sent out more combat forces.
Zhiyuan was almost unable to withstand the attack, but fortunately other monks arrived in time and took away some of the firepower.
The silver lining is that even with spiritual stones as a supplement, the loss of a "painting fairy's" power is irreversible. When their power is exhausted, they will turn back into an ordinary scroll, which can be destroyed with a slight pull.
After just a short while, countless fairies in the painting exhausted their strength, and their souls turned into ashes and dissipated.
"Will I become like this?" Zhiyuan couldn't help but look at her hands that were beginning to become transparent.
She looked at the lifeless black pupils of the Painting Saint and felt a wave of sadness in her heart. Rather than saying that he was controlling the immortal in the painting, it would be more accurate to say that a higher being was using his "hands" to manipulate everything, like a puppet show.
…
Chen Ying got his cub back as he wished. The once lively and adorable tiger cub turned into a mindless puppet, turning its tender claws against its former blood relative.
But Chen Ying didn't care about these things. He didn't care about the cub's struggles and attacks, nor did he care about the attacks from other puppets. He just bent down and held his long-dead child tightly in his arms.
The claws that could easily break stone pillars now stroked the cub's back very gently, and the bloody mouth full of fangs hummed a lullaby softly.
He coaxed his cub to sleep like he did every day, hoping to calm him down. But the cub was already dead, and what he held in his arms was just a puppet that was forcibly left in the world.
In the storybooks written by mortals, there are actually many stories about using love to awaken lost people. He would read them as a form of entertainment in his spare time.
At that time, he had scoffed at such a ridiculous story, but now he wanted to try every possible method he could think of. He thought, what if, what if a miracle happened?
Unfortunately, this is the real world, there are not so many miracles.
The cub bit at his body, leaving teeth marks of varying sizes. His already limited energy reserves were rapidly depleted, and soon his body gradually became transparent.
The cub's time was probably running out. After realizing this, he continued to supply the cub with demonic power, but the soul could not directly absorb this energy, and all his efforts were in vain.
"It was my father who was incompetent and failed to protect you."
Chen Ying closed his eyes, a tear piercing through the cub's shadow and hitting the ground, splashing a few drops of water. He held the cub's body in his arms and said, "I'd rather I kill you than let you die as a human puppet. This is the only thing I can do for you as a father."
"We are demons, born free, born proud."
…
People quickly recognized their relatives among the puppets.
Not long ago, they were still together as usual, sometimes arguing and sulking, sometimes laughing and joking. But no matter what, after just a few hours, they had transformed from their original lively people into what they are now, even pointing swords at their compatriots.
They witnessed their loved ones being reduced to ashes before their very eyes. Driven by rage, each sought to kill the Painting Saint. In their eyes, he was the culprit for this tragedy, but he was protected by numerous puppets, making it impossible to approach him. Even his spells were blocked by the puppets.
"Why did it become like this?"
Zhiyuan closed her eyes wearily. She no longer looked at her senior brother, who was surrounded by the puppets, but recalled her master's instructions when she first came down the mountain.
"Painting practitioners tend to be unorthodox. You two brothers and sisters should supervise each other. If one of you ever strays down the wrong path, the other will kill you before you can make a serious mistake."
It's time for her to make her own choice.
Everyone wants to kill Senior Brother, but no one can do it. But Zhiyuan doesn't count. She knows Senior Brother's weaknesses and everything about him. She thinks she will put an end to all of his evil deeds with her own hands.
…
"The turning point of everything lies in that strange magical weapon."
The painter said in his heart before his soul fell into chaos.
Just as Zhiyuan had described, they had found a legendary artifact that could extend life. The artifact was said to have been crafted by a human elder using secret techniques, and it could indefinitely extend human lifespan. Initially, the painter didn't believe in its power, simply taking it with him, figuring he'd give it a try and discard it if it didn't work.
The junior sister had no objection to this, and even secretly disliked its ugliness on the way, thinking that it looked like a clay pot that had been punched before firing.
When his junior sister died before him that day, the resentment and anger within him awakened the being within the magical instrument. It placed its hand on the painter's head, removing something unknown. Then, in a strange voice, it said, "In exchange, I can grant you one wish."
The painter said, "I want the art of bringing the dead back to life."
From that moment on, some strange knowledge appeared in his mind.
After that, he saved his junior sister, a dying musician, and many others. But it wasn't until later that he realized that with every person he saved, his thoughts became more bizarre. He used to be afraid to kill even a rabbit, but now he could kill people without batting an eyelid... The terrifying thing was that he actually believed those were his true thoughts.
This was probably the price of this heaven-defying magic; he would become less and less like himself. And just as he had imagined, he was swept up in fame and fortune and became a painting saint. Whether voluntarily or under duress, he "saved" more and more people...
…
When Shen Wuming arrived, everything was over.
Zhiyuan knelt on the ground, hugging her senior brother, with a relieved smile on her face.
After losing their controllers, the puppets stood silently in place, no longer responding to any external stimuli.
"Master Sword Saint."
"Miss Zhiyuan!" Shen Wuming's heart skipped a beat. He rushed forward and stuffed all the spirit stones on his body into her arms.
At this time, Zhiyuan's body had begun to swing between emptiness and solidity, and perhaps because of too much black mist, her limbs began to deform slightly.
"how so……"
"Ahem... Master Sword Saint, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Well, it's not a big deal. I just want you to help deliver a letter to tell my master that my brother and I are out and won't be back." She took out a letter from the storage bag with difficulty.
The letter paper was a little damp, and it looked like it had just been written and hadn't even had time to dry.
"...What about you?" Shen Wuming didn't answer. He hoped that Zhiyuan could go back and tell her master everything in person, instead of being like this...
"I can't go back." Zhiyuan said lightly. Black bone spurs began to grow on her joints, just like those monsters before.
Her body had begun to transform, and both Shen Wuming and Zhiyuan herself knew very well that she would only choose to die as a human.
Shen Wuming suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He had finally made friends with someone who was still full of energy when he left, but now he would be separated from them by the Yin and Yang.
It was obvious that with his strength, he could have protected Zhiyuan. If he had paid more attention to this side and kept some backup plans, things would not have turned out like this.
"Master Sword Saint, there's no need to blame yourself. This was my own choice." As if sensing his remorse, Zhiyuan said, "In fact, I should have died a month ago. It's only by relying on evil magic that I've been able to live a little longer."
"For me, finding my troublesome senior brother before I die is the best ending."
"Finally...Sword Saint, could you please write me a parting signature? This is truly the request of my life." Zhiyuan suddenly winked playfully, forcibly breaking the heavy atmosphere.
Since she is going to die anyway and there is no next life, let her be brave this time.
After Shen Wuming agreed, she took out the last scroll she had on her body, and that was where her soul rested.
Now there was no pen or ink at hand, Shen Wuming pursed his lips, cut his finger hard, and wrote his name on the scroll with blood instead of ink.
Seeing this, Zhiyuan finally revealed a satisfied smile. She held the painting in her hands and suddenly lowered her head to look at herself, who had become unrecognizable. As if she had noticed something, she gave Shen Wuming an apologetic look.
Before he could react, Zhiyuan used the blunt bone spurs to pierce the drawing paper and ended his life in a human-like manner.
"Sorry..." But I still broke it.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
