If not for this experience, Li Yue’s sensitivity toward killing might have faded significantly.
As it stood, it had indeed faded in certain aspects. There was less hesitation when she struck, and more cruelty.
The killing intent she had been suppressing was gradually being stirred up by this chaotic situation.
Flames—burst after burst of fire. Within the fire, she caught a glimpse of death, yet somehow, she also seemed to see rebirth.
She and Lane had already evacuated onto the snowy ground, but the reinforcing magic users seemed to have faintly sensed their presence.
To protect themselves, both Li Yue and Lane had used their magic to some extent during the evacuation. Here on the vast, open snow, the two of them had nowhere to hide.
“It seems we have no choice but to deal with them,” Lane sighed. He looked at the roaring flames, his eyes filled with a complex emotion that wasn't quite pity or self-reproach.
His gaze seemed to pierce through the fire, focusing on the corpses of several blood demons, gradually turning into a mixture of disappointment and anger.
He swung his gunblade, creating a series of sonic booms in the air. Li Yue watched the pages swirling around him, still not entirely sure what Lane’s magic actually was.
“You still have to live in Yakutsk. If you use your magic to wound or kill them, it will inevitably cause trouble for you later.” Li Yue stepped in front of Lane.
She feared leaving even the slightest clue behind.
In the night, amidst the heavy snowfall, the burning factory was incredibly conspicuous. From a distance, it didn't look like death or destruction; instead, it felt somewhat warm, offering a sense of hope.
It was truly strange, but if it happened in Yakutsk, it was understandable. After all, fire in this place represented warmth and rebirth.
Li Yue sighed in the wind and snow. Pure white snowflakes fell onto her head and shoulders, but she did not look disheveled. Instead, she appeared somewhat sacred and solemn.
Amidst the noisy wind, the intermittent crackle of burning flames, and the whistling sounds of objects approaching from the distance...
Thump, thump, thump!
Lane could hear a powerful heartbeat. It seemed to emanate from the slender, even somewhat frail body before him. Gradually, he saw the magic users flying toward them at high speeds.
Lane had seen them before. During his several medical visits to the Outer Ring, these magic users stationed there would use their positions as an excuse to occasionally "visit" the homes of the locals.
Some had a taste for men, others for women; all they wanted was to vent their desires through brutal violations. Lane had heard of this during his rounds and felt disappointed by their twisted lust.
Gradually, he felt the wind, the fire, and the snow—everything—seem to fall silent. The distant horizon turned a brilliant red, like the scenery at sunset. Such a sight was quite rare in Yakutsk.
The sky became a glowing crimson. The distant magic users landed on the ground and prepared for battle, drawing their staves and muttering what sounded like taunts.
Lane felt the aura of his magic fade slightly. His connection to the Sacred Book and the gunblade seemed to sever; if he didn't focus, he might not even be able to cast a spell.
He looked toward the horizon. A blood-red moon hung high in the sky, its light as vivid as fresh blood. It poured down from the heavens to the earth, like a brush dipped in blood painting a bold, heavy stroke across the firmament.
A blood sword condensed in Li Yue’s hand. The blood crystal on her chest pulsed with a blood-red light, but she ignored it, simply swinging the slender blood sword.
Rampaging blood lines sliced through the crowd on the ground. They tried to deploy defensive magic, only to find their powers severely suppressed.
The blood-red moon shone in the sky. Except for the twilight-like firmament, the world was pitch black. The snow beneath their feet existed between the pallor of reality and the darkness of illusion, as if separated by a barrier.
With a gentle wave of Li Yue’s hand, all the struggles and attempts of the nearby magic users became futile, for they had already lost their lives.
Blood-red lines appeared across their bodies, and then their forms were sliced apart smoothly. Not even a complete corpse remained; they turned into puddles of blood, dissolving into the thick, crimson moonlight.
In an instant, the bloody sky vanished. The sounds of the wind, fire, and snow rushed back into their ears.
By the time Lane snapped out of it, Li Yue was already sprinting toward their evacuation point. He didn't think too much, pushing off the ground and catching up to her side in a few bounds.
“Was that just now... a God's legacy?”
“Probably. I saw someone use it before, so I tried it myself, and it worked,” Li Yue said dismissively.
“Are you talking about that bloody incident in Parvati?” Lane seemed to recall something, his body trembling slightly.
“Yes. The culprit back then was the sinner who killed Mr. Roland. I eventually killed him.” Li Yue’s gaze shifted to the ground, her eyes showing no trace of emotion.
Her sharp teeth gently bit her blood-red lip, drawing a faint trace of blood.
“In the end, you chose to accept that heart?”
“No, the heart chose me. It entered my chest and would not be refused.” Li Yue’s tone was heavy. “I didn't have a heart originally. I don't even know how I was alive.”
“Truly a strange physiological structure.”
“Physiological? Am I even a normal person like this? Am I not one of those monsters in your book that should be killed?” Li Yue smiled self-mockingly, glancing at the book glowing faintly at Lane’s waist.
Though she didn't know what Lane’s magic was, she could guess it was likely faith-based.
“I am spoiled orange juice and thick soup. I am roses and lilies crawling with insect eggs. I am a shadow existing in a city of brilliant lights.” Li Yue’s tone was self-deprecating.
“A normal person?” Lane seemed to think of something, his pace slowing slightly. “What is the definition of a normal person? We are born to become ourselves, not so-called normal people.”
“Is that so?” Li Yue was stunned. She committed the words to memory, though she would need time to truly understand their meaning.
Much like the countless nighttime conversations she had with Roland, she might not have fully understood them at the time, but she had done her best to remember them.
Perhaps it was those words that kept her from choosing a path of complete darkness in the days that followed.
At the very least, she had struggled, rather than plunging headfirst into the abyss of corruption.
By this time, they had reached the entrance of the Asylum. The night was thick and the wind was loud, yet it brought a sense of silence to their hearts—perhaps even a touch of loneliness.
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