Slaying Dark Hummingbird

Dark Hummingbird's ninth soul ring shone with ultimate brilliance.

He no longer dared to hold back. The kid before him had completely changed; golden flames wrapped around the youth's body as though he wore armor forged from the sun. Just the sight of those reddish-gold eyes made every hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Two yellow, two purple, five black—nine soul rings lit up at once. The seventh soul ring flashed fiercely, and his Martial Soul True Body activated—his body abruptly shrank, transforming into an entirely black hummingbird. Its wings were as thin as cicada wings yet gleamed with metallic luster, while the stinger on its tail was a full three feet long, black as ink, with a faint purple glow seeping from its tip.

His speed more than doubled.

Before the Golden Dragon King could even assume a defensive stance, the black hummingbird had already circled behind him, its stinger thrusting at his heart. Yet the Golden Dragon King's battle instincts were faster than his thoughts—without even turning around, he reached back with his left hand, spreading his five fingers as golden light surged from his palm.

"Clang—"

He caught the three-foot stinger with his bare hand.

Dark Hummingbird's heart skipped a beat. His all-out strike had been seized barehanded by a mere youth? The force coming from that palm was terrifying. The stinger was embedded in the other's palm without budging, as if trapped in the jaws of a vise.

"Is that all you can do?" The Golden Dragon King tilted his head, casting a sidelong glance at the black hummingbird with reddish-gold eyes. The curve of his lips was contemptuous to the extreme. "I thought I'd get to enjoy the show a little longer."

He twisted his wrist.

"Crack—"

A fissure split open along the stinger.

Dark Hummingbird screamed and beat his wings hard, retreating at high speed before reverting to human form and landing on the ground. He lowered his head to look at his martial soul's tail stinger—a distinct crack had appeared on the pitch-black stinger, dark purple soul power seeping out from it.

"What the hell are you?!" he snarled, his features twisting grotesquely together.

Three-Word Battle Armor instantly covered his entire body. The black armor encased him from head to toe, and a hummingbird-shaped core embedded in his chest began madly pouring soul power into him. His aura surged, and as he threw out both arms, countless phantom stingers exploded into view behind him.

"Fourth Soul Skill, Hummingbird Sting!"

A dense swarm of black stingers blanketed the sky as it descended, each wrapped in corrosive dark purple soul power. The air hissed and crackled with burning wherever they passed. The Golden Dragon King raised an eyebrow and swept his spear in a circle before him—the golden arc of light spread outward like an exploding sun. The phantom stingers struck the arc one after another, shattering and vaporizing, unable to come within three feet of him.

Dark Hummingbird's heart sank to the depths.

The Three-Word Battle Armor was already everything he had. That kid hadn't even lit up a soul ring, yet he had forced him into this state through sheer bloodline strength and spearwork—after living for so many years, he felt like an ant trying to wrestle a dragon.

He would risk it all.

"Ninth Soul Skill—"

All the soul rings around him spun wildly. His ninth soul ring shone so brightly it was blinding, and his entire body became a streak of black light, moving too fast for the naked eye to follow. He compressed every bit of soul power in his body into the tip of his tail stinger and launched a thrust with piercing force beyond the speed of sound. A ring of white sonic-boom clouds burst through the air, and the shockwave tore a long trench through the snowfield.

The Golden Dragon King finally lost his carefree expression.

He gripped the Golden Dragon Spear with both hands, leveling its tip forward as his reddish-gold eyes abruptly blazed with piercing light. Then he did something Dark Hummingbird could never have imagined even in his dreams—

He drove the Golden Dragon Spear into the ground.

"Boom—"

Centered on the Golden Dragon Spear, the snowfield within a hundred meters shook violently. Countless golden dragon-scale patterns spread outward from the spear tip in every direction. Wherever they passed, even the stones were being drained of something—life force. The yellowed wild grass on the ground visibly withered, blackened, and turned to ash. The frozen earth split with spiderweb-like cracks, pale golden light seeping from within them.

Dark Hummingbird's charge abruptly stalled.

He felt something madly draining away his soul power. With every step closer, his body weakened another degree. The Three-Word Battle Armor's defenses were useless before the Golden Dragon Spear. That suction penetrated the armor and directly tore at the bloodline strength and soul power within him.

"W-what kind of devilish technique is this?!" he cried in terror, his speed visibly slowing.

The Golden Dragon King pulled out the Golden Dragon Spear and took a step forward.

A layer of golden bloodline flames suddenly erupted around him—Berserk. His strength, speed, and defense instantly doubled. His entire body became a bolt of golden lightning. Before Dark Hummingbird could recover from the shock of that suction, the spear tip had already pierced through his chest.

"Pfft—"

The spear tip burst out through his back, bringing a spray of black blood with it.

Dark Hummingbird lowered his head and stared at the golden spear piercing his chest, disbelief written all over his face. The breastplate of his Three-Word Battle Armor had shattered completely. The hummingbird-shaped core had been punctured through with one strike, fragments spilling from the crack along with blood.

"You..." He opened his mouth, blood froth spilling from the corner of his lips. "You're not Wu Changkong..."

The Golden Dragon King leaned close to his ear, his voice extremely low. "Of course I'm not. But I'll take your life for that kid."

He pulled out the spear.

Dark Hummingbird's body crumpled like a puppet with cut strings, crashing into the snow and never moving again. In his final moment, Wu Changkong's image was still reflected in his wide-open eyes, yet until death, he never understood what exactly it was that had fought him.

The golden flames gradually receded from Wu Changkong's body.

The moment those reddish-gold eyes returned to amber, the youth seemed to lose all the bones in his body. His knees buckled, and he crashed to one knee in the snow. The Heavenly Frost Sword slipped from his hand and shattered into two pieces with a clang. The dark golden patterns receded from the blade like the tide, restoring it to its original frosty-white, crystalline appearance.

He panted heavily, as though a fire burned inside his chest. Every breath of cold air hurt so badly that his ribs trembled. His head buzzed, and everything that had just happened felt as though he were viewing it through a layer of water—blurred and distorted. He only remembered those reddish-gold eyes and that tyrannical strength that did not belong to him.

Who killed him?

His mind was blank. Dark Hummingbird's corpse lay several dozen yards away, but he had no memory whatsoever of how he had done it. He lowered his head and looked at his hands. His fingertips were still trembling, and the scorching sensation of gripping a spear lingered in his palm, yet the Golden Dragon Spear was gone.

Wu Changkong had no time to think about it.

His gaze passed over the corpse and landed on the snowfield farther away. Long Bing lay curled up there, her blue dress spread over the white snow like a flower blown down by the wind. She did not move. Her chest still rose and fell faintly, but her face was pale as paper, her brow tightly furrowed as though she had suffered an enormous fright before passing out.

"Long Bing..."

A hoarse breath escaped from Wu Changkong's throat. He braced himself with his hands, trying to stand, but his legs would not obey him. The moment his knees left the snow, they collapsed again. He clenched his molars and used his elbows instead, inching his way toward her.

The snow was cold. So cold that his palms quickly went numb.

But he did not stop. Thirty yards, twenty-four, fifteen... With every inch he moved, the fire in his chest burned hotter and his vision grew blurrier. Several times, he thought he was about to collapse, but whenever he saw that patch of blue, he forced himself upright again.

At last, he reached the hem of her dress.

Using the last of his strength, Wu Changkong rolled over and leaned back against the snow, gently lifting Long Bing's head and resting it on his shoulder. Her breath brushed against his neck, warm and faint. He turned his head and looked at her tightly closed eyes—that face he had seen countless times now rested quietly against him, just as it had during so many evenings before.

His lips moved, as though he wanted to say something.

But his eyelids closed first.

His arm slipped from her shoulder, and his entire body fell backward, the back of his head sinking into the snow. The two of them lay side by side.

"Lucky brat. There was actually quite a lot of soul power in his father-in-law's body." The Golden Dragon King crossed his arms over his chest, undisguised disdain in his eyes. "Can love really make people this... stupid?"