Descent, Blood War

It was eleven o'clock at night, and the ruins were shrouded in pitch-black darkness.

The moon was obscured by clouds, with only the city lights in the distance casting a dull red glow against the horizon. The wind whistled through, causing the weeds to rustle and the corrugated iron roofs to creak and groan.

Zhang Mo crouched behind a pile of concrete, his eyes fixed on the center of the clearing. Ning Rongrong huddled beside him, curled into a ball.

They had been waiting for three hours.

The traps were all set—the steel wire tripwires had been reinforced, the unstable piles of debris were marked, and the escape route had been memorized.

Now, they just had to wait for the targets to arrive.

Ning Rongrong's palms were slick with sweat. She wiped them on her pants, but they were damp again moments later.

Zhang Mo turned to look at her and reached out to grip her wrist.

Ning Rongrong froze, looking down at the spot where he held her.

"Don't be nervous," Zhang Mo whispered. "Stick to the plan."

Ning Rongrong took a deep breath and nodded.

Time crawled by.

The wind blew a piece of waste plastic across the ground, where it tumbled and rattled with a dry, clicking sound. In the distance, a dog barked a few times before falling silent once more.

Ning Rongrong stared at the center of the clearing, not daring to blink.

Suddenly, she felt the light around them dim.

It wasn't the dimming caused by clouds covering the moon, but something else—as if something were absorbing the light itself.

She looked up at the sky.

On the horizon, a purple rift was tearing open.

The crack grew wider, expanding from a thin line to three or four meters across, its edges shimmering with blinding light. Inside the rift was pure darkness, revealing nothing, yet she could feel something pushing its way out.

Zhang Mo tightened his grip on her hand.

The rift expanded to its maximum width—

Six figures dropped from within.

When the leader landed, the ground shuddered. He stood over two meters tall, shirtless, his muscles knotted like jagged rock. Moonlight leaked through the clouds, reflecting a cold sheen off his bald head.

Behind him stood five others, all burly men around two meters tall, standing in a row like a wall.

The rift slowly closed behind them.

The man took a deep breath and grinned.

"So this is the new world?"

His voice was as coarse as grinding stones.

He raised his right hand, clenched his fist, and slammed it into a nearby rusted excavator—

BOOM!

A massive dent caved into the side of the excavator, and the entire machine skidded three or four meters, its treads gouging deep furrows into the earth.

Ning Rongrong clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream.

Beneath the man's feet, Spirit Rings began to manifest.

Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black.

The six Spirit Rings rotated slowly around him, radiating a pressure that made it hard to breathe in the night air.

"Boss," one of his subordinates spoke up, "the air here smells wrong. It's too pungent."

Huyan Li sniffed the air and frowned. "It is a bit strange. But it doesn't matter; find that little girl from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect first."

He stepped forward into the ruins.

After two steps, he suddenly stopped and turned his head toward the direction where Zhang Mo and Ning Rongrong were hiding.

Ning Rongrong's heart skipped a beat.

But Huyan Li only glanced for a second before looking away and continuing forward.

"Boss, what is it?"

"Nothing," Huyan Li said. "Probably just rats."

Ning Rongrong let out a breath of relief.

But no sooner had she exhaled than she saw Huyan Li walk right up to the first pile of debris.

That pile was their first trap—if a single tripwire were touched, the concrete blocks above would collapse.

Huyan Li stared at the concrete for a moment, then kicked it—

CRASH!

The pile of debris exploded outward, sending shards flying in every direction.

Ning Rongrong nearly screamed.

Huyan Li looked at the scattered fragments and grinned.

"Is that it?"

He continued to walk forward.

After a few steps, he tripped over the first tripwire.

The steel bar bent directly under his foot.

He looked down, snapped it with one foot, and kept walking.

But his pace was slowed by half a beat from that trip.

It was exactly that half-beat.

Zhang Mo let go of Ning Rongrong's hand and lunged out from their hiding spot.

Behind him, Ning Rongrong's Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda manifested instantly.

"First Spirit Skill, Strength Boost!"

"Second Spirit Skill, Agility Boost!"

Two beams of seven-colored light landed on Zhang Mo simultaneously.

Borrowing the speed from the boost, Zhang Mo dashed behind Huyan Li in the blink of an eye, the Fish Gut Sword in his hand thrusting straight at the back of the opponent's neck—

Huyan Li didn't even turn his head, throwing a backhand punch!

The wind of the punch whistled; Zhang Mo dodged to the side, the Fish Gut Sword grazing his arm—the blade sliced through the skin, leaving a shallow bloody mark.

Huyan Li turned around, looked at Zhang Mo, and his eyes lit up.

"You can hurt me?" He stared at the sword in Zhang Mo's hand. "That sword is strange."

He looked down at the bloody mark on his arm and stuck out his tongue to lick it.

"Interesting."

He threw his right fist out again, this time glowing with the light of spirit power.

Zhang Mo dared not take it head-on, dodging to the side while sweeping the Fish Gut Sword across his waist. But this time, it didn't even break the skin, leaving only a white mark.

Huyan Li laughed out loud.

"Are you scratching an itch?"

He reached out with both hands to grab Zhang Mo.

Zhang Mo turned and ran, diving into the maze.

Huyan Li chased after him, but his frame was too large, and the passages between the piles of scrap were too narrow, forcing him to take detours. Zhang Mo wove through the maze, darting left and right, leading him in circles.

Ning Rongrong hid in the shadows, her Heart Separation Control running at full capacity, keeping the boosts steadily on Zhang Mo.

But she knew she couldn't hold on for long.

She gritted her teeth, suddenly stood up, and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda shone brilliantly.

"Third Spirit Skill, Soul Power Amplification!"

Another beam of light landed on Zhang Mo.

Huyan Li whipped his head around and saw her.

His eyes were terrifyingly bright.

"Little girl!"

He grinned, abandoned Zhang Mo, and charged toward Ning Rongrong.

Zhang Mo's expression changed, and he turned to chase after him.

But while Huyan Li's speed was slow, that was only relative to other Spirit Masters. To Ning Rongrong, a twelve-year-old support-type Spirit Master, his speed was still too fast.

In the blink of an eye, he had reached Ning Rongrong, his massive palm reaching out to grab her—

"Heart Separation Control!"

Ning Rongrong screamed, and four boosts landed on herself at once.

She had added agility and defense to herself, but as a support-type, even with the agility boost, she couldn't outrun a Spirit Emperor.

Just as that hand was about to grab her—

A figure slammed into him.

Zhang Mo.

He used all his strength to ram into Huyan Li's side, staggering him a step and causing that hand to swipe through the air, grazing Ning Rongrong's hair.

But Zhang Mo himself was thrown back by the recoil, slamming into a pile of concrete with a muffled groan.

Huyan Li steadied himself, turned his head to look at him, and his gaze shifted.

"You're courting death."

He strode toward Zhang Mo.

Zhang Mo pushed himself up from the ground, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained locked on Huyan Li, his grip on the Fish Gut Sword deathly tight.

Huyan Li looked at him, then glanced at Ning Rongrong, who was still standing motionless in the distance, and suddenly laughed.

"A bit interesting."

He raised his right hand, and his five subordinates immediately gathered around.

"That little girl is a support-type, grab her first," he said. "Leave this brat to me."

The five burly men acknowledged the order and turned to charge toward Ning Rongrong.

Ning Rongrong's face turned pale, and she turned to run.

But she had only taken a few steps before a burly man blocked her path.

She changed direction, only for another burly man to cut her off.

The five burly men slowly surrounded her from five different directions.

Zhang Mo tried to rush over, but Huyan Li blocked his way.

"Your opponent is me," Huyan Li grinned. "Let the little girl play by herself."

In the distance, Ning Rongrong was trapped in the center by the five burly men, with nowhere to run.

She gritted her teeth as the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda flickered with light before dimming once more.

Her Spirit Power was nearly exhausted.

She looked up at the five burly men, then turned her head to glance at Zhang Mo in the distance.

Zhang Mo was struggling desperately to break through, but Huyan Li stood in his way, preventing him from coming over.

Ning Rongrong took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the Fish Gut Sword.

She remembered what Zhang Mo had told her—

"You only have one chance to strike."

She stared at the one who appeared to be the weakest among the five burly men and slowly crouched down.

The burly man was stunned for a moment when he saw her crouch.

In that split second of hesitation, Ning Rongrong lunged forward, the Fish Gut Sword thrusting straight at his calf—

The blade pierced through.

The burly man let out a miserable shriek and dropped to one knee.

Ning Rongrong dashed past him, running without looking back.

The other four burly men were stunned for a moment before roaring in pursuit.

In the distance, Zhang Mo breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Ning Rongrong break through the encirclement.

But Huyan Li saw it too.

He stared at Ning Rongrong's retreating figure and suddenly laughed.

"Interesting little girl," he said. "Then I'll play with you first."

He turned and chased after Ning Rongrong.

Zhang Mo tried to intercept him, but Huyan Li threw a backhand punch that sent him stumbling back several steps.

By the time Zhang Mo regained his footing, Huyan Li had already covered a dozen meters.

In the distance, Ning Rongrong ran for her life with the four burly men in hot pursuit, and further back, Huyan Li was closing in with long strides.

She looked back, her face deathly pale.

But she didn't stop, gritting her teeth as she kept running.

Running deep into the maze.

Running toward her only chance.

Huyan Li's fist came crashing down.

Zhang Mo dodged to the side, but the wind from the punch grazed his shoulder, sending him staggering a few steps. Before he could steady himself, Huyan Li's other fist was already upon him.

There was no dodging this time.

He crossed his arms to protect his chest and took the punch head-on.

Bang!

He was sent flying backward, slamming into a pile of concrete behind him. Debris clattered down, burying him. He gritted his teeth and stood up, his right arm aching and numb—the spirit bone was heating up, as if it were about to burn.

"Zhang Mo!"

Ning Rongrong's cry came from the distance.

Zhang Mo didn't look back, keeping his eyes fixed on Huyan Li.

Huyan Li stared back at him, his eyes filled with surprise.

"What is that?" He pointed at the purple light pulsing on Zhang Mo's body. "Spirit Power? No, you have no Spirit Power fluctuations."

Zhang Mo did not answer.

He did not know what this was either. He only knew that with every breath, those purple lights burrowed deeper into his body, and his strength grew stronger.

But it hurt.

It was a bone-deep agony.

It felt as if someone were lighting fires inside the crevices of his bones.

Huyan Li stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"Whatever you are," he said, "you're going to die here today."

He charged forward with long strides, both fists swinging out.

Zhang Mo retreated, backing up until he hit a pile of concrete, leaving him nowhere else to go.

He took a deep breath, and instead of retreating, he surged forward to meet Huyan Li's fists.

The two collided.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Fist met flesh with every strike.

Zhang Mo's punches landed on Huyan Li like he was hitting stone, the impact numbing the bones in his hands. Every punch Huyan Li landed on him felt like being struck by a vehicle.

But he did not retreat.

Punch for punch.

He took three blows just to land one.

Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, his eye socket swelled shut, and he had no idea how many ribs were broken. But those purple lights kept burning, burning so fiercely that he could not fall.

In the distance, Ning Rongrong was pinned down by four burly men, struggling desperately.

She watched Zhang Mo get knocked down time and again, only to crawl back up, her vision blurred by tears.

"Let me go!" she screamed, kicking and biting.

The man holding her slapped her across the face.

Her head buzzed, and her vision went black.

Yet, she kept her eyes fixed on that direction.

Fixed on that blood-soaked back that was still standing.

Huyan Li was truly enraged now.

He was a dignified Spirit Emperor, a direct descendant of the Elephant Armor Sect, yet he had been fighting an ordinary person without even a shred of Spirit Power for so long without killing him. If word of this got out, how could he show his face?

He let out a furious roar, and his fifth Spirit Ring lit up once more.

"Fifth Spirit Skill—Diamond Mammoth Avatar!"

His body expanded another circle. A golden horny layer covered his entire frame, and those two tusks grew even longer, gleaming with a chilling light under the moonlight.

He looked at Zhang Mo and said, word by word:

"This punch will send you on your way."

Zhang Mo stood where he was, unmoving.

It wasn't that he didn't want to move; he couldn't.

His legs no longer obeyed him, his entire body was trembling, and his vision was fading to black. Those purple lights were still burning, but they were burning away his final reserves of strength.

He watched Huyan Li charge toward him, watched that massive fist growing larger and larger—

Then, he heard a scream.

It was not a scream of fear.

It was a scream of fury.

"Heart Separation Control—Full Power!"

Seven-colored light exploded from behind him.

The radiance was blinding, so bright it seemed to illuminate the entire ruin.

Four buffs descended upon him simultaneously.

Strength, Agility, Spirit Power, Defense.

All maxed out.

Zhang Mo felt a surge of heat flood his body. His disobedient legs could move again, and his darkened vision cleared. He raised his head, stared at the approaching fist, and did not dodge—

He met it head-on.

Fist against fist.

BOOM!

The moment the two fists collided, the very air shuddered.

Huyan Li's eyes widened.

He saw Zhang Mo's fist crash into his own, and then, his fist was pushed back.

Pushed back by an ordinary person with no Spirit Power.

Zhang Mo did not stop.

He threw punch after punch, slamming them into Huyan Li's body.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Every punch carried a violet glow and a seven-colored radiance, and every punch left cracks upon that golden horny layer.

Huyan Li retreated, and retreated again.

He slammed into a pile of concrete, with nowhere left to go.

Zhang Mo stood before him, bathed in blood, the violet light in his right eye burning at its brightest. He stared at Huyan Li and said, word by word:

"Just now, you said, who was sending whom on their way?"

Huyan Li opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but Zhang Mo gave him no chance.

The final punch.

It smashed into his chest.

The golden horny layer shattered.

Huyan Li's eyes bulged as he looked down at the crack in his chest, then back up at Zhang Mo.

"You..."

He managed only a single word before his massive body collapsed with a thunderous crash.

Dust billowed into the air.

Zhang Mo stood there, looking down at him.

He watched as those golden specks of light drifted from his body and slowly dissipated.

The sounds of battle in the distance ceased.

The four burly men holding Ning Rongrong down froze. The three burly men surrounding Zhang Mo also froze.

They looked at Huyan Li lying on the ground, then at the blood-soaked Zhang Mo, their expressions shifting from ferocity to terror.

"The... the boss is dead..."

Someone shouted, though it was unclear who.

The remaining five burly men exchanged a glance, turned, and fled.

Zhang Mo did not pursue.

He stood where he was, watching them run into the distance, then slowly turned to look in the direction of Ning Rongrong.

Ning Rongrong was pinned to the ground, her face swollen and blood at the corner of her mouth. But she was smiling.

As she laughed, tears streamed down her face.

Zhang Mo walked toward her.

After two steps, his legs gave way, and he dropped to one knee.

Ning Rongrong's expression changed, and she scrambled up to run toward him.

"Zhang Mo! Zhang Mo, are you alright?"

Zhang Mo lifted his head to look at her.

His eyes were barely able to stay open, yet he forced a smile to the corner of his mouth.

"We won," he said.

Ning Rongrong froze.

Then she lunged forward and hugged him.

She held him tight.

"Are you stupid!" she cried out, "Are you stupid!"

Zhang Mo did not speak.

He leaned against her and closed his eyes.

The sound of the system echoed in his ears, but he could not make out what it was saying.

He only felt someone holding him, very tightly, very warmly.

He suddenly thought that this, perhaps, was not so bad.

And then, he knew nothing more.