"I want to kill Jietisikoki."
At this moment, after enduring countless torments and hardships, the young man had turned this mission into an instinctual physiological need—as basic as the desire for warmth and a full stomach, a primal craving that needed no reason at all.
And so, every painful feeling and chaotic emotion that might hinder this instinct was discarded by Ye Chen's mind, one after another.
Until the Butcher Hunter was dead.
The Bloodsmith Hunter would never again feel lost over this "instinct" of his.
Thus, the bedroom door standing before Jietisikoki—the symbol of Ye Chen's psychological defenses—had its surface cracks completely wrapped and filled by blood-red thorns that sprang forth from nowhere. They even shoved Jietisikoki's "viewpoint" forcefully back some distance.
Clearly, things would not end so easily.
Jietisikoki's painstaking scheme over all this time had indeed driven Ye Chen's mind to the edge of a cliff.
Yet this powerless, prolonged mental torment, like a living hell, had in the end forced Ye Chen's willpower to an unprecedented new height.
It was like a curved blade ground without rest, day and night.
Its body would indeed grow thinner with time.
But its edge would likewise grow sharper with time.
That was Ye Chen's current state of mind.
Through every manner of vile tactic and conspiracy, Jietisikoki had indeed forced him step by step into this wretched state.
However, the effects of that torment could go no further than this.
From here on—
Ye Chen would never again voluntarily retreat even half a step toward the cliff's edge.
Jietisikoki could no longer exert any influence on Ye Chen through the psychological level alone.
Ye Chen stood atop a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, looking down at Jietisikoki. His gaze was calm and unfathomable, as though declaring: