It all ended quickly.
Wen Yanyu had not even realized what had happened.
As his consciousness blurred, his body fell backward into a warm embrace.
Jun Changmo looked listless. His remaining eye turned toward the closed door before slowly shifting to the man whose face was covered in cracks.
His shattered vocal cords kept producing eerie laughter.
"You..."
Jun Changmo had only tentatively uttered a syllable when complete darkness greeted him.
As the last drop of black blood seeped into the earth, a ball of light pursued the moving shadow, firmly trapping the "snake"-shaped thing that had just crossed the barrier.
Everything fell quiet again.
Fu Hanchuan... or Fu Zhiyan, raised his hand, lowered his head, and looked at his waist. Blood had soaked a broad patch, and the blood vessels where his palm met his wrist were a horrifying black. That patch of black was still spreading outward.
The fused body still bore Fu Hanchuan's appearance, and its ink-blue irises were losing their color at a visible speed.
After forcibly fusing with another body that was already on the verge of withering away, the two consciousnesses shattered each other. At this moment, he was better called a walking corpse than a person.
Countless wails from the World Core, exacted as the price, echoed endlessly inside his head. His mind and body were already on the brink of collapse; only bodily instinct had brought him here.
After confirming one last time that the thing had been successfully trapped, Fu Hanchuan shifted his gaze slightly, his hollow eyes meeting another pair.
Wen Yanyu's eyelashes trembled. As his exhaled breath rose, the snowflakes on his lashes melted one by one and dripped down. Everything before him was too blurred to make out.
"Fu Zhiyan..."
Only the bitter scent of agarwood, tinged with