In midair, Lin Qiye reached into the void and grabbed a Starlight Chain, forcibly steadying himself.
Blood splattered across the ground. A crimson wound so deep that bone showed nearly cleaved through his body. Lin Qiye's body was, in the end, still mortal flesh; he simply could not withstand a strike from the Bow of Unstrung Strings head-on.
Lin Qiye slowly raised his bloodshot eyes. In the darkness, Vishnu stood clearly in view, Sanskrit Markings beneath his feet. A golden wheel, conch shell, vajra, and longbow—four phantoms rested in his hands, making him seem like an ancient deity that existed only in murals and old scrolls.
Blood likewise seeped from the corners of Vishnu's mouth. His figure seemed somewhat unsteady as well, but he paid it no heed and continued walking toward Lin Qiye step by step.
"To force me to damage my own foundation... as a Lord God, you have every reason to be proud."
Vishnu stopped before Lin Qiye. Half his face was a bloody mess, and his smile was incomparably savage. "If I can't kill half of Great Xia's population, then killing you—the hope of humanity—should count as completing my mission, shouldn't it?"
Lin Qiye stood before him, blood streaming from the wound that had torn through his body and merging with his dark crimson cloak.
His head hung low, his expression obscured.
"So there really is a difference between gods and mortals..."
Vishnu glanced at Lin Qiye's injuries. The hand clutching the phantom vajra abruptly rose, then smashed down with world-destroying pressure!!
Clang—!!
The bloodstained straight blade blocked the vajra. Dense cracks spread through the darkness beneath their feet.
Lin Qiye gripped the hilt with one hand, veins bulging along his arm. The wound in his chest split open once more, blood spraying out without end!