Wang Wu's throat was gripped by an invisible force. The veins at his temples bulged, but he still glared fixedly at Jiang Yan, snarling through clenched teeth, blood frothing at his lips. "...If you've got the guts... then kill me!"
"Kill you?" His tone was indifferent, touched with impatience. "I don't have time to waste on these stupid games."
He casually raised a hand and made a gesture.
At once, two disciples dressed in the robes of Jixia Academy entered in response.
"Take this father and daughter away," Jiang Yan said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Throw them onto Langya Terrace."
"This Corpse Immortal Embryo is rare, too. It'd be a waste not to refine it into a pill."
"Yes!"
The two disciples carried out the order without expression.
The two figures plummeted toward the Heaven and Earth Furnace below, tossed about by the force of gravity like kites with snapped strings.
At the last possible moment, a gap suddenly tore open in the enormous mound of flesh locked in combat with the Bronze Mecha. A giant hand, hastily woven from countless fungal threads and strips of flesh, reached out and caught Wang Wu and Nuonuo.
The hand gently closed around them, shielding them from the furnace's scorching heat.
Chen Jin had gradually gained the upper hand in his battle against the Bronze Mecha. Now he had enough strength to protect those present.
What happened next was a sight no witness could ever forget:
Countless bulges swelled out between the folds of the mound of flesh, like living things beneath its skin struggling to break free.
The next second, they tore through the thin membrane of flesh with a wet rip, and thousands upon thousands of arms crawled out.
It was like pear blossoms bursting into bloom on a thousand trees.
They were as thick as century-old tree trunks, their skin slick with clear mucus, their blue-purple veins throbbing beneath the surface. Their knuckles were so huge they could clutch half a person.
Some arms still bore clinging scraps of flesh membrane, dangling from their wrists like tattered gauze. Yet this did nothing to slow them. In the blink of an eye, they spread out to blot the sky, their palms opening like enormous umbrellas above the survivors.
Before anyone could recover from their panic, several hands had already descended.
Still warm from the mound of flesh, their palms were soft as sponges soaked in warm water. They carefully gathered up the people huddled on the ground.
Their fingertips rested gently against people's shoulders and backs, neither pressing down nor leaving any gaps, forming a half-enclosed space around them.
Someone reached out instinctively and touched a palm. Beneath its smooth skin, they could feel a hidden resilience. Even the light filtering through the gaps between its fingers seemed gentler, shutting out the howls and chaos beyond.
In that moment, the deformed, hideous mound of flesh that Chen Jin had become seemed to transform into the thousand-armed, merciful deity of legend. Using himself as a shield, he carved out a temporary refuge for every survivor in the midst of this desperate plight.
Deep within his body, the struggle of the Bronze Mecha, now fused with the Lord of War's baleful aura, had also reached its final stage.
The boundary between bronze and flesh grew increasingly blurred, while the mecha's violent struggles grew weaker and weaker.
The ancient baleful aura and power over war within it were being forcibly stripped away, devoured, and absorbed by Chen Jin.
And this process did not bend to Chen Jin's will.
Invasion, devouring, fusion, assimilation—within this world, these were the natural, eternal laws.
"Walker of Yanfu, please be advised! The Godhead of the Lord of War has begun to bond with you... Fusion progress: 3%... 7%..."
"Warning! If the Godhead of the Lord of War is fully fused, the Walker of Yanfu will be permanently stranded in Human-Bingzi-Twelve Fruit and unable to leave!"
This strange "fusion" was probably exactly what Jiang Yan wanted to see: the complete union of "medicine" and "catalyst."
Sure enough, Jiang Yan, who had been watching coldly all along, finally showed a sharp glint in his eyes as he saw the mound of flesh in the furnace devour the Bronze Mecha completely. The time was ripe.
The three sticks of cypress incense on the table had just been lit with magic power. Tiny orange-red sparks crawled up the incense sticks, and three wisps of smoke rose, carrying the cypress's bitter, clean fragrance.
Jiang Yan stood before the table, his plain Daoist robe accentuating his straight shoulders and back. His fingertips formed his family's ancestral Invocation of Dharma.
"Reverently, I beseech Daoist Ancestor Taigong, Progenitor of the Xuanyuan Sect!
"In ages past, you received the whip on Kunlun, wielded it to judge the gods, and bring order to the Three Realms;
"Now an evil god has fallen into heresy, defied Heaven's laws, disrupted the celestial order, tormented the people, and destroyed all moral principles!
"Your disciple, Jiang Yan, scion of the Jiang clan, burns incense and bows three times, daring to lay bare his heart:
"I pray to borrow the divine whip of my ancestor, gather the astral energy of the Nine Heavens, and summon the might of the Clear Tenuity;
"When the whip rises, let it shatter evil barriers; when it falls, let it slay wicked gods; when it hangs, let it restore the divine order!
"I offer my vital blood to the Dao and beseech your grace with a sincere heart:
"May the divine whip swiftly descend, to help your disciple cleanse the Three Realms of corruption and protect the people's peace!"
The incense smoke gathered without dispersing, swirling in the empty space before him. Gradually, an ancient golden glow appeared at the heart of the vortex.
He raised both hands. From the smoke, the phantom of an ancient-looking whip took shape, wreathed in an aura that could destroy all magic. It slowly settled into his palms.
The whip was strung together from nine sections of black iron, each joined by an ancient bronze ring. When it swayed, it gave off only a deep, muffled ring.
The black iron was dark blue-green, its surface coated in a warm patina, with tiny silver flecks embedded in its grain, invisible until they caught the light.
Gilt seal-script characters were carved into the front of each section, arranged in order from "Edict" to "Punish Evil." Though worn, the gilding still glowed warmly, and the entire whip lit up when it met spiritual energy.
The handle was made of lightning-struck jujube wood. Its dark brown grip was smooth as jade, and a lightning pattern filled with cinnabar wound around the shaft.
A black jade pendant hung from the end of the handle, threaded with a length of dark red ancient silk that still held the warmth of incense offerings.
The whip had no sharp edge; it radiated only solemn weight. It felt as heavy as metal and stone in his hand, yet did not burden him. At the stir of his will, it trembled faintly, the seal-script characters glowing.
This was the God-Striking Whip.
So, after devouring the Lord of War, he could be counted as a local deity.
That meant he fell within the God-Striking Whip's specialized range.
From a distance, he lashed out!
The gilt seal-script on the Nine-Section Black Iron burst into a storm of golden flames, rousing the might of Heaven.
Ink-black clouds suddenly gathered in the clear sky. Blue-purple lightning churned within them, and with a sharp crack, a pillar of lightning plunged down like a silver serpent.
Yellow sand and broken stones leapt into the air, gathering in the blink of an eye into sand pillars dozens of meters high, with rubble swirling around them.
The gale howled as it swept up the sand and gravel, bending the surrounding trees. Blood-red light seeped from the cracks between the bluestone bricks as lightning and sandstorms wove together into a chaotic canopy.
The earth-shaking noise was only incidental. The true attack seemed to ignore space altogether, striking Chen Jin's soul directly.
"Urgh—!"
Chen Jin let out a scream of unbearable agony, and the majestic sight of him protecting others with a thousand arms instantly fell apart.
His enormous body, fused from mecha and flesh, convulsed violently as though its spine had been ripped out. Amid endless, rending pain, all awareness sank into darkness.
Before he passed out, his final thought was:
In this state, I bet anyone who saw me would think I was a Divine Abomination. Getting struck by this whip actually made sense.