The scabbard slammed heavily into the carapace above the closed maw, unleashing a thunderous clang like a great bell tolling! The carapace caved inward from the blow, cracks spreading across it. Li Chongshan's head shook violently, and he let out a howl of pain.
At that split-second when the sickle-leg above was about to graze Commander Chen's hair, the sickle-leg below was about to sever both his legs, and the scorpion tail's venomous stinger was about to pierce his back—
Commander Chen's hunched body suddenly folded backward at an angle that completely defied reason, nearly brushing the ground! At the same time, his left hand—which had always gripped the hilt but had never used it—flicked the spring catch open for the second time with his thumb.
"Clang!"
The ghostly radiance appeared again! But this time, it did not slash outward.
The dark-black straight blade slid half a foot from its scabbard. That concentrated, tangible killing intent did not surge forward; instead, centered on Commander Chen's folded body, it suddenly spread and spiraled outward like rippling water, especially toward his back!
"Netherworld Bone Erosion · Thousand Needle Rain!" Li Chongshan's furious, horrified roar rang out at the same time as the scorpion tail moved! Its flower-bud-like stinger abruptly burst open, and countless ghost-green venomous rays, fine as ox-hair needles, descended like a torrential rain over Commander Chen's body folded against the ground! This was the true killing move, covering every angle without a single blind spot!
Commander Chen's upturned face was aimed straight at the venomous downpour pouring from above. His expression remained utterly blank. Only the dark-black blade protruding half a foot from its scabbard suddenly blazed with ghostly light for an instant.
Time seemed to stretch and solidify once more.
When the falling venomous needles touched the wave of frigid killing intent that had spread and spiraled outward around Commander Chen, it was as though they had struck an invisible wall at absolute zero.
"Ding ding ding ding ding...!!"
The dense, crystalline sounds, like ice beads dropping onto a jade plate, joined into one melodious yet deadly chorus.
All the ghost-green needles froze and halted in that invisible domain of sword intent while still more than a foot from Commander Chen's body. Then they shattered inch by inch, turning into the finest ghost-green ice crystals that rustled down.
Taking advantage of the tiny opening created by the eruption of the sword-intent domain and his backward fold, Commander Chen's body slid several feet along the ground like boneless flesh, narrowly avoiding the lethal pincer attack of the upper and lower sickle-legs. The sickle-legs missed and sank deeply into the ground.
Commander Chen braced himself with one hand. His body sprang upright like a tightly wound spring released, and he once again faced Spider Scorpion. His chest rose and fell faintly, a thread of black blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Several more wounds had been carved across him by the force of the sickle-legs, yet his eyes shone with terrifying brightness, like two burning stars of ice.
He slowly raised his right hand and grasped the hilt of the blade that had already emerged half a foot.
"The warm-up is over." Commander Chen's hoarse voice rang out, carrying a solemn murderousness long absent, as if it had come from an ancient battlefield.
He gripped the hilt and drew the long, narrow, dark-black straight blade from its plain old scabbard, inch by inch, until it was completely free.
The instant the blade fully left the scabbard, the wind above the ruins of the General of the Middle Army's residence stopped. All sound died away. Even the flame of the battered candle that had swayed without pause suddenly froze.
Only the blade remained—dark and silent, yet seemingly the sole center of this world.
The eight compound eyes of the Spider Scorpion that had once been Li Chongshan flickered with frantic ghost-light. Its huge maw issued an uneasy growl, and its scorpion tail drew back, trembling faintly. From the fully unsheathed blade, he sensed an unprecedented aura of danger—one potent enough to threaten the very source of his "perfect body."
Commander Chen held the blade in both hands and slowly raised it above his head. His hunched waist and back straightened completely at that moment. An indescribable, vast and ancient aura surged into the sky from his body, as though it bore the carnage of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, the devastation of endless beacon fires. It merged with the sword intent and shot straight into the heavens!
Through the Spider Scorpion's hideous exterior, his murky eyes seemed to see something deeper. He saw the anguished wails beneath those twisted bloodlines, the boundless resentment of the devoured beings, and the filthy, frenzied ambition driving it all.
"This blade," Commander Chen's voice was no longer hoarse. It had become grand and solemn, ringing like metal striking metal through the silent ruins,
"is offered to Heaven and earth, to all living beings, and... to the blade in my hand."
As his voice fell, the blade-light rose.
There was no sound, no dazzling display of light.
There was only a mark.
A straight mark that seemed to have existed since the creation of Heaven and earth, descending from an immeasurable height to cleave chaos apart once more.
Where the mark passed, space itself seemed to be silently cut open, leaving behind a dark wound that could not close for a long time.
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The Spider Scorpion—Li Chongshan—let out a shriek of utmost terror, a piercing cry unlike any human sound. Its eight legs thrashed wildly, its huge maw spewed out its last venom and Monster Qi, and its scorpion tail blasted open all its remaining venomous needles to form one final defense. At the same time, its enormous body desperately tried to dodge to one side.
But the mark seemed to lock onto the essence of its existence, locking onto the twisted core within its body, where countless monster beasts and human souls had been fused together.
The mark landed squarely in the center of the Spider Scorpion's hideous trunk, fused from many kinds of carapace.
Time seemed to stop for an instant.
The next moment.
The Spider Scorpion's enormous, hideous body, fused from countless terrifying features, soundlessly split in two along the trajectory of the mark.
The cut was smooth as a mirror, shimmering with a dim, ghostly light. Not a drop of blood flowed. All vitality, Monster Qi, and venomous power were utterly annihilated in the instant of the cut by the sword intent within the mark, which destroyed everything in its path.
The two halves of the corpse slowly slid apart, crashing heavily into the ruins and sending dust billowing across the sky.
The dust gradually settled.
At the center of the ruins, Commander Chen still held the blade in both hands, maintaining the posture of a downward slash. Yet his straightened back had hunched once more, bent even more severely than before. His face was pale as paper, his chest heaved violently, and black blood kept spilling from the corner of his mouth. The hand gripping the blade trembled faintly. The dark-black straight blade had dimmed considerably, and an extremely fine, nearly invisible crack had even appeared along its length.
Cough, cough. He began coughing violently, hacking up large clots of black-red blood. The wounds on his body corroded by the scorpion venom began darkening again, spreading much faster than before.
He struggled to raise his eyes and look toward the Spider Scorpion's remains. Between the two halves of the severed trunk and huge maw, a figure that barely retained a human shape was twitching faintly. Its limbs and torso were twisted and deformed, covered in bizarre fleshy buds and fragments of carapace. It was the remnant of Li Chongshan's true body, revealed after the Spider Scorpion form had been destroyed. A blade wound deep enough to expose bone slashed from his left shoulder diagonally to his right abdomen. His organs were faintly visible, and his aura was weak and chaotic. He had clearly suffered a fatal injury as well.
Leaning on his blade, Commander Chen staggered toward that figure one step at a time.
When he reached it, he lowered his head and looked at Li Chongshan's face, a face mingling boundless pain, terror, unwillingness, and a trace of lingering madness.
Li Chongshan's unfocused eyes met Commander Chen's murky yet icy gaze. A wheezing sound came from his throat, as if he wanted to say something.
Commander Chen gave him no chance. He slowly raised the dark-black straight blade in his hand and aimed its tip at Li Chongshan's brow.
But just as the tip was about to plunge down, Commander Chen's body suddenly lurched. He spat out a mouthful of black blood, and the blade tip veered slightly, piercing only into Li Chongshan's shoulder blade instead of dealing a fatal blow.
Li Chongshan let out a muffled groan, a trace of madness born from escaping death flashing through his eyes.
Commander Chen tried to deliver another strike, but the scorpion venom in his body erupted at the same time as the backlash from forcing out too much sword intent. His vision went black, and he nearly collapsed. Bracing himself on the blade, he dropped to one knee and gasped heavily, each breath carrying blood foam.
Li Chongshan took the opportunity to struggle and writhe away, but his injuries were too severe. He managed to move only an inch.
In the end, Commander Chen used his last strength to stagger upright. Without looking at Li Chongshan again, he dragged his heavy steps toward the outer gate, moving forward one step at a time. His back swayed at the boundary between the ruins and the dawn, as if he might collapse at any moment, yet he never turned back.
Li Chongshan lay in a pool of blood, staring in the direction Commander Chen had vanished. The venomous hatred in his eyes almost condensed into something tangible. He opened and closed his mouth, but only spat out more blood foam before finally closing his eyes helplessly, his breathing growing ever weaker.
The ruins fell silent once more. Only the thick stench of blood and the scorched reek of venomous matter hung in the air.
On a distant rooftop, Mr. Yin's figure appeared and disappeared in the morning mist. He glanced at the dying Li Chongshan in the ruins, then looked toward the direction Commander Chen had gone and murmured to himself.
"Both sides are gravely wounded, and both vessels are damaged. Still, the real show has only just begun."
With that, he melted into the brightening sky like a ghostly shadow and vanished without a trace.
Commander Chen did not know how he had made it back to the garrison. He pushed open the duty room's door, the scabbard dragging a long trail of blood across the bluestone floor. Shi Zhu rushed over to support him, but Commander Chen pushed him away with his bloodstained hand.
"Shut the door. No matter who knocks, don't open it."
The bolt fell with a heavy thud. Commander Chen slid down the cold door and sat on the floor, one hand clamped tightly over the wound at his waist where the scorpion tail had pierced him, black blood now seeping from it. Crows cried outside the window, their calls hoarse and grating. He suddenly remembered that many years ago, on another snowy night filled with the shrill cries of crows, he had lost the right to wield a blade—and had also lost the person who would wait for him to return through the snow.
He slowly closed his eyes, yet the corner of his mouth curled into an extremely faint smile, almost impossible to see.
"Old friend, I didn't disgrace you this time."