Fifteen Grantee Longswords erupted from the shadows simultaneously.
They shot out from fifteen different angles, their blades tearing through the air with a chorus of high-pitched shrieks.
Every sword's trajectory had been precisely calculated by Luo Yang to strike the wounds others had already opened—wounds that had not yet fully healed.
Fifteen streaks of silver light pierced the mutant beast's body like needles.
Dark gold blood erupted from the fifteen wounds at once.
The beast's roar jumped an entire octave, and for the first time, a look of genuine agony appeared on that human woman’s face.
It twisted its body frantically, its four bony toes plowing deep furrows into the ground as it tried to shake off the swords embedded in its flesh.
But Luo Yang wouldn't give it the chance.
Six Armor-piercing Daggers flew out from his space ring.
Six flashes of cold light ignited as they hovered in mid-air, tips pointed downward. They formed a loose ring, trapping the mutant beast in the center.
Controlling twenty-one weapons at once placed a massive strain on his mental power. He could feel his consciousness being split into twenty-one pieces, each one independently calculating the angle, timing, and force of the attack, as well as the counter-strategy for every movement the beast made.
A needle-like pain throbbed in his temples as surging waves of mental power continuously battered his consciousness.
But he could still hold on.
The six daggers slashed down from six directions simultaneously, their blades slicing into the gaps between the scales and pushing deeper into the wounds previously opened.
Luo Yang’s right hand slowly clenched in the empty air.
Dark gold blood gushed like a fountain. The beast’s struggles grew more violent, the pain on its human face shifting into pure rage.
It opened its mouth, and dark gold light spilled from between its even teeth. The light condensed into a fist-sized sphere before shooting toward Luo Yang.
Luo Yang didn't dodge.
A Grantee Longsword flew from behind him, its tip precisely striking the sphere of light. The moment they touched, his control over the sword was severed, and it silently dissolved into ash.
However, the sphere's trajectory was diverted. It grazed his ear and exploded against the wall behind him, carving out a crater two meters wide.
Shards of stone whipped past Luo Yang’s cheek, leaving a shallow bloody scratch. He didn't even blink.
“Still not enough,” he whispered.
Night Owl-Slash was drawn from the scabbard at his waist.
The dark blue blade ignited with a blinding light as he infused it with blood energy. Gripping the hilt with both hands and letting the blade hang by his side, Luo Yang sprinted toward the mutant beast.
With every step he took, a new weapon flew out from his space ring. Swords, knives, daggers, hand crossbows, pistols... every piece of equipment he had accumulated since becoming a Punisher, everything Qiu Shubai had bought for him, and everything Cao Tianlin had gifted him—all of it poured out at this moment.
The remaining twenty-eight weapons hovered in the hall under his mental control, their points and edges all aimed at the struggling beast.
Qiu Shubai knelt among the rubble, clutching her injured shoulder as she looked up at the scene.
Her ash-gray hair fell over her shoulders and blood dripped from between her fingers, but she never let go of her sword. Her gaze passed through the hovering weapons and came to rest on Luo Yang’s back.
His white shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to his spine and outlining the slight trembling of his shoulder blades. It wasn't the trembling of fear, but the instinctive reaction of muscles when mental power was pushed to its absolute limit.
Yet he continued to run forward.
“Is this everything you have?” she asked softly.
Her voice wasn't loud, but a thin thread of blood energy carried it directly into Luo Yang’s ear.
Luo Yang didn't turn back. He simply slowed his pace slightly, tilting his head as the corners of his mouth curved upward.
“Pretty much. I’ve emptied my coffers.”
“Is it enough?”
“It has to be.”
“I’ll lend you one more.”
In the next instant, white and red light intertwined. The white longsword Luo Yang had seen many times before crossed through space and appeared directly in his hand.
Bloodfall.
He nodded and took a deep breath.
Every weapon moved at the exact same moment.
Longswords, daggers, and knives shot out from all directions, each one precisely slicing into the weak points between the scales, widening the existing wounds.
Several hand crossbows and pistols fired simultaneously. Bullets and armor-piercing bolts slammed into the joints, the energy circuits on the projectiles erupting in blinding blue light upon impact.
The beast’s body was skewered by countless weapons at once.
Its roar turned into a wail. On that human woman’s face, rage, pain, and sorrow intertwined before finally freezing into an expression Luo Yang couldn't quite decipher.
The blade of Night Owl-Slash flared.
With a blade in one hand and a sword in the other, Luo Yang mobilized all his blood energy. Night Owl-Slash was charged to its limit.
Though Bloodfall’s blade also shone brilliantly, Luo Yang could feel that he had accidentally flipped some kind of switch; the sword was continuously devouring blood energy.
It wasn't just his; it was frantically draining the blood energy from the entire room.
It was like a bottomless abyss.
“I can't wait any longer, or this thing will drain me dry!”
The dark blue light extended from Night Owl-Slash, manifesting a phantom blade several meters long in the air.
On the other side, energy erupted from Bloodfall as a massive sword-light rapidly took shape.
“I never thought I’d actually get a chance to use Excalibur.”
The muscles in his arms bulged, and veins traced a path from the backs of his hands to his forearms.
Blood energy, mental power—every scrap of strength he could mobilize was squeezed to the absolute limit at this moment.
The sword rose; the blade fell.
“Break!”
Two beams of light cut into the beast’s shoulders, slicing diagonally through its entire torso and exiting through its ribs.
Dark gold blood erupted like a waterfall, drenching Luo Yang. The blood was searing hot; the moment it touched his skin, it hissed with white smoke, leaving fine burn marks on the backs of his hands.
The mutant beast’s body slowly collapsed.
The moment before it hit the ground, its human face turned toward Yan Zhi. In its golden eyes, the rage and sorrow receded like a tide, leaving behind a peaceful sense of relief.
Then, its body began to disintegrate.
The dark gold scales peeled off one by one, turning into drifting points of light.
Flesh, bone, and that uncanny human face all transformed into countless tiny particles of light at the same time, rising toward the dome like embers scattered by the wind.
Amidst that rain of light, a fist-sized bead slowly descended.
It was perfectly round and a pure gold color, with light swirling slowly inside it like a captured star.
The bead hit the ground with a soft, crisp sound and rolled to Luo Yang’s feet.
Yan Zhi’s gaze fell upon the golden bead, her black eyes reflecting its soft glow.
“Its core,” she said. “It left it behind.”
Luo Yang looked down at the bead.
He was completely spent, drenched in dark gold blood, with the back of his right hand covered in fine blisters. Waves of dizziness from the exhaustion of both blood energy and mental power hammered at his consciousness.
Trembling, he leaned over and picked up the bead.
It felt warm to the touch, like holding a sun that still retained its heat.
“Why?” he asked.
Yan Zhi tilted her head, thinking for a long time.
“Maybe because it didn't want to come back to life anymore,” she said. “The thing it was waiting for... it will never come. Since you could defeat it, it left this for you as a... thank you, for letting it stop waiting.”
Luo Yang placed the bead in Yan Zhi’s hand and didn't ask anything else.
Behind him, Qiu Shubai slowly stood up.
With the beast gone, the power that had been lingering in her shoulder wound had dissipated. Though it was still bleeding, it was no longer a major concern.
Her gaze never left Luo Yang. Her ash-gray bangs were stuck to her forehead with sweat, obscuring half her face and leaving only her eyes, clear as water, visible.
The wariness and scrutiny in those eyes had mostly faded.
What remained was a very faint trace of concern that she hadn't even noticed herself.
“You,” she said.
Luo Yang turned around.
“What?”
Qiu Shubai lowered her eyelashes, her blood-stained fingertips lightly brushing the blade of Bloodfall.
“You really do what you say.”
Before she could finish, the world in front of Luo Yang’s eyes blurred. He closed his eyes and lost consciousness.
He hadn't just used up almost all his blood energy; even his mental power was on the verge of total depletion.
Qiu Shubai rushed to support him, letting him lean against her.
In the distance, Song Zhiyi used a broken stone pillar to pull himself up. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and stared at Luo Yang, who was half-leaning against Qiu Shubai amidst the rain of light. He remained silent for a long time.
Then, he grinned.
“Goddammit,” he laughed breathlessly. “Where did Deputy Commander Cao dig up this monster?”
The dome of the hall had completely shattered. The dark red sky of the Rift poured in through the gap, intertwining with the lingering dark gold points of light like someone had scattered a handful of stars over the ruins of the apocalypse.
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