Bai Haorui didn't speak. He knew he didn't have time to talk nonsense. He took advantage of Horseman of War's unsteady footing and immediately changed his moves. He took a half-step forward with his right foot, lowered his center of gravity, held the sword in both hands and slashed downwards with great force. The flames on the sword soared by half a foot, and struck Horseman of War's neck with the sound of howling wind.
Horseman of War snorted coldly and raised his left arm to block. His arm was covered with a thick layer of black Power of War, like an indestructible shield.
"Dang--"
The peach wood sword struck Power of War, making a loud noise like a metal collision. The strong repulsive force spread along the sword body to Bai Haorui's arm. His tiger's mouth split instantly, and blood flowed down the hilt. But he didn't Backing up, using the force of the shock, he rotated his wrist half a turn counterclockwise, and lifted the sword upward against Horseman of War's forearm. This was "Groin-Lifting Form" at a tricky angle, pointing directly at Horseman of War's chin.
Horseman of War I didn't expect him to change his moves so quickly, so he quickly tilted his head back. The mahogany sword scraped across his chin, and the flames on the sword burned off several of his beards.
Without waiting for Horseman of War to counterattack, Bai Haorui flicked his left hand and pulled out a wisp of True Gang from his body. According to the method of "Soul-Locking and Evil-Binding", it condensed into a three-meter long line. The long True Gang chain. The end of the chain has three sharp True Gang barbs, shining with an icy cold light, like a poisonous snake, wrapping around Horseman of War's left wrist wearing the ring.
"A little trick." Horseman of War smiled disdainfully, made a fist with his right hand, and the fist was wrapped with rich black Power of War, and smashed the True Gang chain hard.
"Bang--"
The fist and the chain collided, creating a powerful shock wave that shattered all the surrounding car windows and threw up gravel on the ground. True Gang The chain instantly broke into more than a dozen pieces, turning into little purple-gold light fragments and dissipating in the air.
Bai Haorui was shaken by the shock wave and took three steps back. Each step left a deep footprint on the ground. The wound on his chest opened again, blood soaked into the white bandage and seeped out from the clothes. He covered his chest, coughed violently, and coughed up another mouthful of blood.
"Is that all you have?" Horseman of War walked towards Bai Haorui step by step. Every step he took would leave a black footprint on the ground, and the surrounding air became thicker because of the murderous aura emanating from his body. "I thought that so-called 'variable' was so powerful. It turns out that it is nothing more than that. It seems that both Heaven and Hell overestimated you."
He stretched out his right hand, with the palm facing upward, and a strong suction force came from his palm. Bai Haorui's body flew towards him uncontrollably, and the peach wood sword in his hand almost fell off.
Horseman of War grabbed Bai Haorui's neck and lifted him up. His fingers were like iron pliers, tightening tighter and tighter. Bai Haorui's face instantly turned red from the suffocation, it was difficult to breathe, and his eyes began to turn black.
"Tell me, mortal," Horseman of War leaned closer to Bai Haorui's face, with a hint of cruel playfulness in his tone, "Why are you resisting? Isn't it a good idea to live a little longer?"
Bai Haorui looked into his eyes and used all his strength to squeeze out a few words from between his teeth. "Fuck you..."
"Stubborn." Horseman of War's eyes turned cold, and the strength in his hands increased a bit, "Then you go and die. After you die, I will slowly take care of those two Winchester boys."
Just when Bai Haorui's consciousness was about to blur, the back of Bobby sitting in the wheelchair flashed in his mind, the worried eyes of Dean flashed, and the guilty face of Sam flashed.
Can't fall... I can't fall...
Bai Haorui bit the tip of his tongue violently and swallowed a mouthful of blood.
"Buzz--"
The Lotus Seal between the eyebrows instantly burst into dazzling golden light, and the entire town was enveloped in this golden light. A pure, domineering, extremely hot flame spurted out from Lotus Seal.
"Samadhi True Fire·Fenxie!"
Bai Haorui used up his last bit of strength to shoot all the flames towards Horseman of War's chest.
The golden flame was like a laser, instantly hitting Horseman of War's chest.
"Ah--!"
Horseman of War let out a heart-rending scream, suddenly let go of Bai Haorui, and stepped back more than ten steps. A black hole the size of a fist was burned out in his chest. The black Power of War was burning like a nemesis, making a "sizzling" sound, and could not be reproduced at all. The calmness and arrogance on his face completely disappeared, replaced by extreme fear and disbelief.
"Damn! What kind of fire is this?!" Horseman of War looked at the wound on his chest, his voice trembling, "This is not an ordinary fire! What on earth is this?! Why can it burn my Power of War?!"
Bai Haorui fell to the ground, gasping for air. The blow just now not only used up all his True Gang, but also consumed a lot of his blood essence. His vision went black, and he couldn't even lift his fingers. But he knew that it was not over yet. Although Horseman of War was seriously injured, he was not dead yet.
He gritted his teeth, supported his body with the peach wood sword, and stood up little by little. He inserted the peach wood sword on the ground, quickly formed seals with his hands, and recited the "Tai Shang Cave Xuan Ling Bao Sutra for Saving Suffering and Eradicating Sin". Although his voice was weak, it was extremely clear, and every word carried a sacred power.
"Tai Shang Tai Xing, the response is endless. Expelling Evil binds the charm, protects life and protects the body. Wisdom is clear, and the mind is peaceful. The three souls are eternal, and the soul has no loss."
As he chanted, the ground under his feet began to glow. Golden runes emerged from the ground, forming a huge Eight Trigrams Soul-Suppressing Formation with a diameter of ten meters with him as the center. This is "Eight Trigrams Soul-Suppressing Formation", which is specially used to suppress powerful enemies. Bai Haorui uses his own blood as the eye of the formation, and uses his last soul power to activate the formation.
The golden runes slowly circulated in the formation, forming an invisible barrier, trapping Horseman of War in the formation. Powerful suppressive force pressed on Horseman of War from all directions, making his movements become sluggish, and Power of War on his body began to become unstable.
"Quick! Cut off his hand!" Bai Haorui shouted with all his strength, his voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible, "Cut off the hand with the ring on it! I can't hold him captive for long!"
Dean and Sam got up from the ground. Their eyes turned red when they looked at Horseman of War who was trapped in Eight Trigrams Formation and Bai Haorui who was crumbling in the formation.
"Sam! Do it!" Dean shouted.
Sam picked up Ruby's Knife on the ground and rushed over like an angry lion.
Horseman of War was struggling crazily in Eight Trigrams Formation. He punched the formation barrier, and the golden runes instantly shattered into pieces. He kicked the ground again, and the entire formation began to shake violently, and cracks opened in the ground.
"Break it!" Horseman of War roared, and the Power of War on his body skyrocketed.
"Pfft--"
Bai Haorui spurted out a large mouthful of blood and sprayed it on the formation eye of Eight Trigrams Formation. The formation's light lit up again and it was temporarily stable.
At this moment, Sam rushed in front of Horseman of War. He raised Ruby's Knife, used all his strength, and slashed Horseman of War's left hand with the ring on it.
"Click--"
Bones The sound of breaking is clear and harsh.
Horseman of War's four fingers on his left hand, together with the silver ring, fell to the ground.
The ring rolled to the pavement and made a crisp sound.
All illusions disappeared without a trace at this moment.
The people who were shooting at each other stopped and looked around blankly. They looked at the weapons in their hands, the bodies and blood on the ground, and they didn't know what they had just done.
The knife in Austin's hand fell to the ground. He looked at Ellen and then at the body on the ground, and tears fell instantly. "I... what did I just do?"
Horseman of War looked at Bai Haorui fiercely, with murderous intent in his eyes. "Just wait! We will meet again! Next time, I will make your life worse than death!"
He turned into a black smoke and disappeared together with the red Mustang sports car.
Bai Haorui looked at the direction in which Horseman of War disappeared and breathed a sigh of relief. His body softened and he fell down.
"Haorui!" Dean rushed over and supported him.
Bai Haorui leaned in Dean's arms, his face as pale as paper, and his breathing was weak. He smiled weakly, "It's okay... I'm a little tired... I didn't kill him... It's a shame..."
Dean's eyes were red and his voice was choked, "You have done a great job. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have been able to win. Thank you, Haorui."
Sam squatted beside him, looking at Bai Haorui's weak appearance, and felt full of guilt. If it hadn't been for him, none of this would have happened. Bai Haorui wouldn't have been injured so badly.
The morning sun shines on the picnic table in the mountain rest area, and the air is fresh, with the smell of grass and earth. The mountains in the distance are shrouded in a thin layer of morning mist, looking peaceful and beautiful. But the three people feel extremely heavy.
Dean was sitting at the picnic table, holding the cold War's Ring in his hand. The ring was silver, engraved with complex patterns, and glowed with a cold luster in the sun. He kept turning the ring, his eyes empty.
Bai Haorui leaned against the tree next to him, closing his eyes and regulating his breath. His face was still pale, his lips were chapped, and he was wrapped in thick bandages. After a night's rest, he regained some strength, but he was still very weak.
Sam sat on the other side of the picnic table, lowered his head, and looked at his hands.
Silence enveloped the three people, like an invisible net, making them breathless.
After a long time, Sam finally spoke. His voice was very soft, but extremely firm.
"Dean, I have something to tell you."
"Sam, stop talking." Dean interrupted him without looking up.
"No, listen to me," Sam shook his head and looked up at Dean, his eyes full of pain and determination, "This is very important. I know you don't trust me. In fact... I don't trust myself either."
Dean turned his head and looked at the mountains in the distance without speaking.
"When I was at the convenience store," Sam continued, his voice trembling, "After I killed the boy, I looked at the blood on the knife and there was only one thought in my mind. I wanted to drink it. I told myself that I was doing it for justice, and my intentions were good, and I really felt that way. But I know, deep down... I just missed that feeling. That feeling of having power. That feeling of being in control of everything."
He took a deep breath, tears welling up in his eyes. "I know this sounds bad, and it also shows how bad I am. The problem is not the demon blood, it really is not Ruby. For the things I did, I can't blame the demon blood, I can't blame Ruby, I can't blame anyone. The problem is me. It's what I can do. I There is something in my heart... Dean, it scares me. In the past few days, I have seen its shadow again. I am afraid, I am afraid that I will lose control again and hurt you. It hurts Haorui, it hurts Bobby, it hurts Ellen and Joe."
Dean turned his head and looked at Sam. His eyes were complicated, showing pain, disappointment, distress, and a hint of helplessness.
"So what do you want to say?" Dean asked, his voice hoarse.
"I'm not suitable for hunting now," Sam said, tears finally falling, "I'm in danger. I could lose control again at any time. Maybe it's best for us... to go our separate ways. I'll leave so that I won't cause you any more trouble. I'll find a place without people and stay by myself until I can control the darkness in my heart."
Dean was silent for a few seconds. He looked at Sam's tearful face, and his heart hurt like a knife. He wanted to keep Sam, and wanted to tell him that it didn't matter, everything would be fine. But he couldn't.
Finally, he nodded. "I think you are right."
Sam was stunned. He thought Dean would object, scold him, and quarrel with him. But he didn't. Dean just said calmly, "I think you are right." This sentence hurt him more than any scolding.
"I thought you would object." Sam's voice was very low.
"The truth is, I spend more time worrying about you than I do doing my job well," Dean said, with a tired tone, "And I can't do this now. Not now. It's the end of the world, and we have too many things to do. I can't keep an eye on you all the time, worrying about when you will lose control again. I can't risk other people's lives."
Sam nodded. He wiped away his tears, stood up, and picked up the backpack on the ground.
"Hey," Dean called him.
Sam stopped and looked back at Dean.
"Do you want to drive an Impala?" Dean asked, his voice very soft.
"No need." Sam shook his head, "That's your car. You need it more than I do."
He walked to the Impala and took out his luggage from the back seat. Then he walked to a pickup truck parked nearby, said a few words to the driver, and then got into the passenger seat.
The pickup truck started and slowly drove away from the rest area.
Sam poked his head out of the car window, looked at Dean and Bai Haorui, and said softly, "Take care of yourself, Dean. Take care of Haorui."
"You too, Sam." Dean said softly, her voice choked with sobs.
The pickup truck drove farther and farther, and finally disappeared at the corner of the mountain road.
Dean was sitting alone at the picnic table, holding the cold ring tightly in his hand. The tears finally couldn't help but fall, hitting the ring and making small splashes.
Bai Haorui walked to him and sat down. He didn't speak, just stayed with him quietly.
After a long time, Bai Haorui spoke with a gentle but firm voice, "Don't be sad. He just needs some time. He needs to be alone to face the darkness in his heart and find redemption. When he figures it out, he will come back. I promise."
"What if he doesn't come back?" Dean raised his head and looked at Bai Haorui, his eyes red, like a lost child, "What if something happens to him? What if he turns into someone we don't recognize?"
"Then we will go find him." Bai Haorui looked into Dean's eyes, "No matter where he is, no matter what he becomes, we will go find him. We are a family, and we will always be. If the sky falls, we will carry it together."
Dean looked at Bai Haorui's firm eyes and nodded. He leaned on Bai Haorui's shoulder, like a tired child.
Oklahoma Garber, Great Plains Motel Room 307. 4:17 am.
Outside the window is an endless stretch of withered yellow grassland, with the dead grass swirling in the open space in the wind, like countless souls wandering with nowhere to go. The street lamps dimmed their yellow spots in the morning fog, like blurry eyes, silently staring at this sleeping town. The room was filled with the smell of cheap lemon air freshener, and the radiator in the corner was emitting heat.
Sam was curled up on the bed, covered with a blue quilt that had been washed white. There were still a few stains on the quilt that could not be washed away. In his sleep, his brows were knitted into a tight knot, and cold sweat soaked through the gray pillowcase, leaving patches on it. There were dark marks. His fingers were clenching the edge of the bed sheet, his knuckles turned white, and his nails were almost embedded in the rough fabric. He let out a vague moan, his body was twitching like an electric shock, and his legs were kicking unconsciously, as if he was fighting something invisible.
He opened his eyes suddenly, his pupils were dilated, he was breathing heavily, his chest was heaving violently, and his heart was beating like it was about to break his ribs. The cold sweat on his forehead slid down his cheeks and dripped on the quilt. He turned his head reflexively, his movements as stiff as a marionette, and there was still lingering fear in his eyes.
Then, he saw her.
Jessica Moore was sitting by the bed, wearing a white cotton nightgown, with long hair shawl, slightly curled at the ends. The moonlight shined on her through the gaps in the curtains, giving her a holy halo, but also made her skin look extremely pale.
"Jessica?" Sam's voice was hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against wood, with an incredible tremor, and his lips were chapped and peeled, trembling slightly.
Jessica smiled, with a faint arc at the corner of his mouth, and his voice was as soft as a feather brushing his ears. "Hey, baby. I miss you so much."
Sam's back was pressed against the cold wall, and the cold touch made him wake up a little. His eyes were instantly filled with tears. Pain and longing were like two poisonous snakes, tightly twisted together, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. "I miss you too. I miss you every day. I dream of you every night."
Jessica stretched out his hand and touched his cheek coldly with his fingertips. His nails were bluish white and there was no trace of warmth. "I know. I've been looking at you."
Sam closed his eyes and let the false warmth sting him. His heart throbbed and tears silently fell down his cheeks. "I'm dreaming again. Every time I dream about you, it's all in vain when I wake up."
Jessica smiled and shook his head, with a hint of pity and a hint of imperceptible sarcasm in his smile. "Or not. But what's the difference? I'm here now. Right by your side."
Sam opened his eyes, his eyes were as complex as an overturned five-flavor bottle. There was yearning, pain, guilt, and a trace of fear that penetrated into the bone marrow. "You are here to remind me that I am a deserter, right? I am the reminder. It killed those people, killed John, killed so many innocent people. Remind me that I personally opened the door to Hell and released Lucifer."
Jessica's tone suddenly became serious, he withdrew his hand and sat up straight. "Escape. Haven't we walked this road before? You ran away from Stanford, ran away from dad, ran away from Dean and Bai. Now you want to run away from your own fate."
Sam shook his head vigorously, his hair messy on his sweaty forehead, his voice was low, full of bone-deep self-loathing. "No. This time is different. This time I know clearly that I am a complete monster. I can't get close to anyone anymore, and I can't let anyone die because of me. I stay far away so that no one will get hurt again."
Jessica sighed softly, with a hint of helplessness in his tone. "This is just self-deception nonsense. You can't escape it, Sam. Do you think you can get away from it all by hiding in this barren town, changing your name, and becoming a bartender?"
Sam's eyes became firm, as if he was cheering himself up, and as if he was fighting against the voice deep in his heart that kept denying himself. "I can. I have quit demon blood, and I am no longer the fool who is led by Ruby. I can be an ordinary person. I must also be an ordinary person. For Dean, for Haorui, and for myself."
Jessica looked at him with sad eyes, shook her head, and her long hair swayed slightly with her movements. "Baby, that thing in your heart is your darkness. It has always been there and never left. One day, it will swallow you up again."
Sam closed his eyes in pain and hit his head hard against the wall, making a muffled sound. The pain made him wake up temporarily. "Yes. I know. That's why I hide far away. I want to protect everyone from me. Even if the cost is that I will be alone for the rest of my life."
Jessica held his hand, and the biting cold touch made Sam shiver. Her hand was like a stone just taken out of the ice cellar, without any warmth. "You know in your heart that you and Yellow-Eyed Demon are the same. You are both monsters."
Sam jerked his hand away, struggling backwards on all fours as if he had been burned, and his back hit the wall hard, his eyes full of fear and anger. "No! No! I'm different from him! I won't hurt anyone!"
Jessica leaned forward, almost touching Sam's face, his eyes were cold, and his voice became low and hoarse, with a chilling power. "Don't you understand yet? You You can't escape yourself. Sooner or later, the past will catch up with you. The people closest to you will die because of you. Dean will die, Haorui will die, and everyone you care about will die."
Sam gritted his teeth, his lips were bitten until they bled, and the rust-like taste spread in his mouth. His eyes were firm and almost paranoid. "No way. It won't happen this time."
A mocking smile appeared on Jessica's face, and his eyes were full of disdain. "It's just the same old tune. You will never change, Sam. Never. Do you think you can control yourself? Do you think you can resist the temptation of demon blood? Stop dreaming."
As soon as she finished speaking, her figure turned into a plume of black smoke and disappeared into the air instantly, leaving no trace, as if she had never appeared. Only the cold touch on Sam's hand remained, proving that what happened just now was not an illusion.
Sam sat blankly on the bed, his eyes empty, his tears silently falling on the sheets, leaving dark wet marks.
: Is she right? Can I really never get rid of all this? Can I really just be a monster that brings death? No... I can't admit defeat. I want to prove to everyone that I can change. I must. For those who died because of me, I must live and live like a human being.
Pennsylvania zhou Harrisburg suburbs, outside the abandoned textile warehouse. 6:02 in the morning.
The morning sun passed through the broken glass windows and shone slantly on the corpses of vampires on the ground. The blood glowed a strange dark red in the morning sun, like blooming flowers of death. The iron roof of the warehouse was blown by the wind and made a "clang" sound, as if singing an elegy for these dead monsters.
Dean leaned against the car door of Impala, using a rag to mechanically wipe the blood off the machete. This machete was left by John, and the handle had been held countless times It was polished smooth and shiny, with tiny scratches engraved on it, each scratch representing a life and death struggle. There was a little dark red blood stain on his face, a layer of cyan stubble appeared on his chin, and his eyes were tired, like a soulless killing machine.
He wiped it carefully and carefully, and every movement was precise and skillful, as if he had repeated it thousands of times. He didn't stop until there was no trace of blood on the machete anymore, reflecting the cold metallic luster.
He threw the machete into the trunk of Impala and closed the lid with a clang. The sound was particularly loud in the empty suburbs, frightening several crows parked on the roof of the warehouse. Dean leaned against the cold car door, picked up a can of beer and drank heavily: I have solved another nest, six vampires, and I can still fight. It's good. When I'm busy, I won't think about Sam. I won't think about his face full of guilt, his voice when he said "I'm leaving", I won't think about the end of the world, and I won't think about me being the damn container of Michael. It's good. It's really good.