"Your Majesty, there's no need to struggle on your deathbed. With a funeral procession like this, you've already earned a place in history that would make the ages envious."
A man who looked like the White-Faced Scholar walked slowly toward Chen Cheng, a slender sword in hand.
By then, the Crimson Ray's form had grown illusory and transparent. Gritting her teeth, she hurled Chen Cheng off her back toward San Long, who was undergoing his tribulation. Then, holding her fading body together, she charged at the White-Faced Scholar and the others.
But before she could reach him, her body gave out and dissolved.
Chen Cheng hit the ground like a battered sack.
Fortunately, his body was tough enough to withstand it. Otherwise, that fall might have killed him before the White-Faced Scholar and the others had to lift a finger.
He landed in a fissure left by his earlier clash with Cang Xiao. Spitting the dirt from his mouth, Chen Cheng forced himself to climb out.
He cast a simple cleaning spell to remove the grime, then faced the White-Faced Scholar and the others alone.
All he could hear now was the ceaseless thunder overhead and San Long's agonized roars.
"Let me see Your Majesty on his way."
In the next instant, the White-Faced Scholar flickered forward. Chen Cheng tried to raise his molten-lava staff to block, but he could not react fast enough. The slender sword pierced his chest.
Looking at the blade buried there, he could distinctly feel a cold foreign object enter his body and press straight into his hot, beating heart.
With another wet shhk, the White-Faced Scholar pulled his sword free. A gush of hot blood sprayed from the wound, drenching him in crimson.
Chen Cheng still tried to bring his molten-lava staff down, but