Chapter 945: Fight

Chapter 945: The Clash

"Lord Zuoqiu!" The Dice continued to persuade the androgynous figure before him. "I know not what grievances you once held against the Mother of No Birth, but with such a formidable enemy at the gates, can you not distinguish between the trivial and the vital?"

"The Mother of No Birth is currently locked in battle with the Fate-Masters of the Blessed Heaven. To seek her out now is merely to drag them down."

"Consider this: if they fall, do you truly believe you can stand alone against the entirety of the Blessed Heaven?"

"Moreover, the Mother has aligned herself with other Fate-Masters. To strike at her now is to openly spite them. Once they recover, how do you think they will deal with you?"

Facing Zuoqiu Yong, the Dice appealed to both reason and emotion, laying out the stakes with chilling clarity.

Li Huowang even thought that if he were in Zuoqiu Yong’s position, he would surely halt the pursuit of the White Lotus Sect to investigate these claims first.

Yet Li Huowang knew his own thoughts were irrelevant; the question was whether Zuoqiu Yong believed a word of it.

Zuoqiu Yong stood there, fidgeting, his ring-adorned fingers twisting his pink silk handkerchief as if weighing the scales.

Taking this opportunity, Li Huowang stepped back to Li Sui’s side. "Suisui, the Dice claims he acts on your instructions. Is he telling the truth?"

He remained skeptical of the Dice, but he trusted his daughter implicitly.

The Xuanpin did not speak; instead, words formed upon the rotating mirror hovering beside Li Huowang. "It is true. He speaks the truth, Father. In this matter, he stands with us. We must trust him."

"If we cannot trust him ourselves, then no one else will."

Reading the words, Li Huowang faltered, but a sudden realization struck him, and he nodded immediately.

Just then, a hazy, indistinct vision flashed before his eyes: he saw himself clutching something, pursuing a streak of yellow.

"What was that?" Li Huowang blinked, then pressed his hands hard against his skull. "No, I cannot let my mind wander. I must not let my thoughts stray for even a second!"

Yet the harder he fought, the more chaotic his thoughts became, and manifestations began to take shape around him, born of his own uncontrolled psyche.

"Hah!" Li Huowang grabbed with one hand, conjuring a massive iron ball, and smashed it violently against his own head. The sphere was heavy and cold; within moments, his scalp was a ruin of blood, his skull slightly indented.

By the time Bai Lingmiao rushed to intervene, Li Huowang had stopped. He gripped her hand, shaking his head to distribute the agony evenly across his fractured skull.

"It’s fine, I’m better now," Li Huowang muttered. In such moments, only the old, crude methods worked; only the pain of the Ba-Hui could anchor his fractured mind.

He declined her support and turned his gaze back to Zuoqiu Yong. This was the critical moment; there could be no mistakes.

Finally, under Li Huowang’s stare, Zuoqiu Yong stirred. His hairless chin lifted, and after a soft cough, he looked at the Dice. "Hmph."

"Little Dice, your tongue is indeed silver; you have moved me. But there is a problem: why should I trust a member of the Sitting and Forgetting Path? And another thing."

He paused, as if savoring the tension. His body began to drift upward, a wisp of white cloud forming beneath his feet. "And another thing—do you truly think you lot are worthy of speaking to me? What qualifications do you possess?"

"I have clawed my way up from the Great Qi to the Tianchen, step by step, all so that everyone else would be forced to kneel before me!"

With a thunderous boom, a mountain-like pressure descended upon Li Huowang’s back, driving him deep into the earth.

Seeing them all gasping for air, a wicked smile curled on Zuoqiu Yong’s face. "If there is to be a balance of power, it shall be between me and the other Fate-Masters. What are you, that you dare speak of balance to me?"

With a flick of his right hand, a spine extended from his sleeve. He lashed it through the air, and the world shifted—they were suddenly back within the capital of the Great Liang.

The city, once tranquil, was now a cauldron of chaos. The Shuode army and the bandit-soldiers of Tianchen were tearing through the streets, cutting down any White Lotus followers or those who dared stand in their way. The capital was a theater of screams and slaughter; the Liang military and the Heaven-Watching Bureau had been deployed, turning the city into a battlefield.

Hovering above, Zuoqiu Yong looked down at the suffering masses with satisfaction. "You seem to have forgotten one thing. I did not go to such lengths merely to kill the White Lotus Saintess. I intend to eradicate the entire sect!"

As he spoke, a rift tore open in the sky, and the forces of Tianchen poured out like rain.

Through the aperture, one could see the figure in the stilt-walking fox mask, his form grown even taller. It seemed he had absorbed the Heart-Spans between the Great Qi and the Great Liang.

"He’s using a feint! He intended to destroy the entire sect from the start!" Li Huowang roared, drawing his spine-sword and leaping toward Zuoqiu Yong.

He was resolute: he would kill this monster. He would surely kill him!

The blade swung, cleaving the figure in two, but Zuoqiu Yong merely laughed as his body split, the severed halves rapidly knitting back together. In moments, two perfect, whole versions of Zuoqiu Yong stood before him.

"Little thing, kneel!" Zuoqiu Yong pointed a finger, and Li Huowang felt his body wither, his orifices rapidly sealing shut.

Just as Li Huowang tore his own eyelids away with his fingernails, he saw the massive form of Li Sui shielding him, absorbing the crushing weight of Zuoqiu Yong’s pressure.

The Xuanpin’s red robes fell away, revealing Li Sui’s true form, covered in writhing tentacles.

Dense, black tendrils swarmed outward, and from their depths, things began to emerge.

They were heads—heads whose features were entirely consumed by tentacles. Not just the head of Shangguan Yuting, but dog heads, bear heads, the heads of youths—men, women, and children alike.

Amidst the macabre dance of black tentacles, a pyramid of skulls rose like a tower of bone, wedging itself between Li Huowang and Zuoqiu Yong.