Chapter 604: No More Heroic Lords

Chapter 604: No More Lords

"The days of the Five Pillars of Tianque are over. Yu Jian and Zhou Yuan—one dead, one fled—leaving only you and Zhao Mengze, stubborn and defiant to the end. But the situation is already decided. No matter how you struggle, it's meaningless. Old brother, take my advice: give up."

The proliferating flesh surged and undulated, making a sound like crashing waves, piling up to a height of over ten zhang, nearly level with the surrounding buildings.

Tian Chou rose atop the rising tide of flesh, looking down from his height at this last surviving old lord of Tianque, Yi Huang.

"At the time of the 'Partition of the Martial Realm' sixty years ago, the sect martial orders should have been annihilated. Yet you managed to hold on until now. That spirit is truly admirable."

"Admiration aside, heaven and earth are ultimately ruthless. Survival of the fittest is an iron law that nothing can escape. No matter how unwilling you are, you cannot change this outcome."

Tian Chou smiled faintly: "If you choose to surrender now, I, as your younger brother, can find a good place for you within my body, allowing you to ascend to godhood through flesh and blood with me. How about that?"

"Tian Chou, you've spent so many years in Tianque. Do you really think I would just sit still and wait for capture?"

Yi Huang's expression was proud and unyielding, his voice cold: "Even if I am fated to die here today, I will drag you, this ungrateful wolf, down with me!"

"You are merely a lord who has tempered only one martial art, and you've reached the point of dried bloodlines and a decaying physique. What can you do but surrender? Even at your peak, you might not have been my equal. And now, the whole of Xin'an is my farm. Here, can you kill me?"

Tian Chou's eyes turned malevolent; he extended a finger and waved it lightly before his eyes.

"Besides, what do you mean by 'ungrateful wolf'? I dislike that term. Winning is winning, losing is losing. All other words are just excuses to cover up. Yi Huang, you've lived to such an age and still haven't understood this truth—you've truly lived in vain."

"Nonsense, a load of rubbish!"

A savage, fierce flame ignited around Yi Huang. He bent his knees slightly, and beneath his feet the thick, rich field of flesh suddenly rippled violently, then exploded with a boom.

Amid the erupting fragments of flesh and waves of blood, Yi Huang's figure shot into the sky.

"Your tempered martial technique, Beng Shi, may unleash power like an avalanche or a splitting earth, unmatched in ferocity, but it lacks endurance—a glaring weakness. Yi Huang, after all these years together, I know you better than you know yourself. What can you possibly use to fight me?"

As Tian Chou's words fell, strands of crimson blood threads coiled up around him, instantly wrapping his form and condensing into a massive figure over three zhang tall.

"I see you won't shed tears until you see the coffin!"

The giant, entirely crimson, as if flayed, thrust a straight punch before it.

Two fists of vastly different sizes collided with a sound like muffled thunder.

The flesh giant's fist was blown apart at the wrist, as if struck by a cannonball.

Blood sprayed everywhere, like a dense crimson mist rising.

Yi Huang, appearing miniscule in comparison, launched another fist, letting out a furious tiger's roar, his expression twisted like a demon.

Amid a continuous volley of explosive sounds, countless fist shadows rained down, grinding half of Tian Chou's body to pulp.

But...

In his relentless charge, Yi Huang failed to notice that the blood droplets scattered by the force had eerily halted midair, already surrounding him completely.

Perhaps he had noticed this hidden deadly scene but chose to ignore it.

Because for him, there was no other choice but to attack.

Whoosh!

A sudden change occurred.

The blood droplets flew backward like arrows, instantly engulfing Yi Huang as he buried his head in punching; the thunderous sound of fists ceased abruptly.

A sphere of flesh, about a zhang in diameter, hovered in the air, spinning without stop.

The giant, nearly smashed into mud, dissolved and disintegrated on its own, revealing Tian Chou unharmed.

He gazed calmly at the floating cage before him, a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Suddenly, ripples appeared on the sphere's surface; it visibly expanded, the interwoven red veins stretching tighter.

Snap!

The blood veins burst, and a violent explosion followed.

Boom!

Yi Huang was caught in the shockwave, blasted backward. Even after landing, he couldn't steady himself but slid several zhang along the ground.

"Huff..."

After finally regaining his footing, Yi Huang panted like an ox, his skin as if boiled, taking on an eerie dark red, emitting rolling white steam.

His face was flushed crimson to purple, like one who had drunk heavily; his throat bulged as if something were stuck there, until he forced it back down, and his complexion shifted from flushed to pale cyan.

"Yi Huang, how much physical strength and inner energy do you have left now? How many more punches can you throw? One? Or two?"

"Enough to beat you to death!"

Yi Huang growled softly, stepping heavily forward again.

But not only could he not throw a punch—his fingers trembled uncontrollably, unable even to clench into a fist.

Seeing this, Tian Chou couldn't help but laugh: "It seems you've reached the point of exhaustion? Even worse than I expected. Had I known you had declined so much, why would I have wasted all these years in hiding? What a waste of time."

The old warrior ignored his taunts, stubbornly clenching his fingers one by one, step by step moving forward.

"You remnants of the sect martial orders, even when promoted to the Order-3 level, are still a bunch of inferior breeds. Only someone like Su Ce, who became a lord after tempering all types of martial arts, could barely hold his own. But unfortunately, he died long ago."

Tian Chou shook his head regretfully: "He died on the road to salvaging your last shred of dignity and seeking a glimmer of hope. Truly not worth it."

"Shut up..."

Tian Chou raised an arm slightly; from the ground, flesh tentacles thick as a man's arm shot up like lightning, coiling around Yi Huang's limbs.

"Yi Huang, to tell you the truth, instead of wasting your strength here, you'd be better off thinking about what last words you want to leave. Perhaps, considering our years of working together, I might show some mercy and help you fulfill them."

"Shut up..."

Yi Huang's temples bulged with veins, like a prisoner trudging under chains; the nearly dried-up Beng Shi force barely managed to snap one tentacle, only to be immediately entangled by more.

"Stubborn and unyielding, refusing to turn back even when hitting a wall."

Tian Chou said disdainfully: "It is precisely because you sect martial orders could never shake off the negative influence of your sequence genes, foolishly taking pride in what you call 'martial heart' and 'martial courage,' that you have ended up in such a state."

As if to completely break Yi Huang's spirit, Tian Chou was in no hurry to deliver the killing blow.

He crossed his arms, watching with interest the scene of a cornered beast fighting for its life.

"Do you know why you fell into the trap? You probably still don't understand, do you? Do you still think it was because you were too kind and wrongly trusted me, a traitor, that led to the fall of Tianque?"

Tian Chou laughed: "It was merely a ruse of sacrificing wife and child—in this era, even among the ants not included in the sequences, it would be a laughably crude trick. How could it ever force me, a Shejun of the Ag-Order 3, to have no way out and be driven to seek refuge with your Tianque?"

"Have you never wondered why you trusted an ag-sequencer so implicitly, even making him one of the Five Pillars of Tianque?"

Yi Huang dragged his chains, his head bowed low, his expression hidden.

But Tian Chou knew that this old bastard was already consumed by hatred and rage.

"There is more than one traitor in Tianque..."

"It was Zhou Yuan!"

Amid the ceaseless snapping of muscles and tendons, a hoarse roar came forth.

"Exactly right. One of the Five Pillars of Tianque, Zhou Yuan. But to be precise, you should call him Honghu Zhou Yuan. He is a clever man—he sold you out for a very good price."

Tian Chou's laughter was exaggerated, laced with mockery and scorn: "A just cause gains great support; an unjust one gains little—that Confucian saying is indeed true. But Zhou Yuan was only one of the 'supports.' There are many who want you all utterly wiped out!"

"But these are merely external forces. The main problem lies with yourselves."

Tian Chou said with emotion: "Your sect's martial sequence is indeed an eliminated inferior breed, with far too many weaknesses."

His inner force long exhausted, Yi Huang could only rely on pure physical strength to carry his bonds and press on.

The tentacles grew razor-sharp bony teeth that tore and scraped away his flesh in the screeching friction, blood dripping freely, soaking his entire body.

But Yi Huang remained oblivious, his steps slow yet unwaveringly determined.

"Actually, if it weren't for Zhang Fengyue, you could have clung to life a while longer—our Sheji wouldn't have struck so early. He was the one who pulled the curtain on a new era, forcing all our factions into the fray."

"Shut up!"

Tian Chou continued: "I'm afraid before long, every sect will erupt with a flood of new Sequence Threes, maybe even Sequence Twos, along with new techniques and methods. A golden age is coming—pity your sect's martial sequence won't live to see it."

"I told you to shut up!"

Yi Huang suddenly lifted his head; his bloodshot eyes burned with bone-deep hatred. A violent, blood-reeking force burst forth, and in an instant his own blood dissolved into a mist of powder, shattering every binding around him.

Yi Huang's figure vanished from his spot, leaving behind a spreading shockwave.

A fist shadow swelled rapidly in Tian Chou's vision, then stopped abruptly a hair's breadth before filling his sight.

A mere inch of distance, yet an impassable chasm.

The snapped fleshy cords and bloody tendons reconnected and coiled, layer by layer wrapping around Yi Huang's limbs, pulling the desperate, aged beast to a halt.

"Your heart and power have bloomed and withered; now you are a ripe fruit. Old brother, thank you for your genes."

Tian Chou stepped back, his face solemn, and cupped his hands in a bow toward the despairing Yi Huang, dripping with mockery.

The fleshy soil beneath Yi Huang's feet writhed, creeping up inch by inch, covering his knees, hips, chest, and finally swallowing his figure whole.

"You should be about here, shouldn't you?"

Tian Chou suddenly spoke to himself, looking up at the rain-pelting sky.

As if he truly possessed the divine power to speak reality into being, a faint tearing sound came from afar through the heavy rain, and in seconds it rushed close—shrill and jarring!

A dark-gold armored figure streaked down from the sky with a blazing tail of flames.

Li Jun had arrived!

Tian Chou grinned, raised both arms to block in front of him, and caught a swift kick.

Bang!

Tian Chou's body plowed a deep furrow through the fleshy field, flying backward.

Li Jun didn't press the attack; instead he turned at the waist, swung his arm, and clenched his left hand into a fist—overlapping armor plates gathered at the knuckles—and punched into the air a hair's breadth from Yi Huang.

A sharp, penetrating force erupted, like ten thousand invisible blades shooting out, slicing and scraping away the surging flesh to reveal Yi Huang's terribly weakened figure.

He had no strength left to stand, swaying, pitching forward.

An armored arm reached out to support the old man.

"Tempered martial strike… who are you?"

Yi Huang's eyes were hazy with death, his vacant gaze seemingly blind.

"Li Jun."

"Ha—you really came?"

A wan smile twisted Yi Huang's pale lips: "Kid, you're a true man. Us old fools… we've let you down."

Li Jun understood what he meant.

"What's past is past. No need to mention it. I don't hold grudges."

"Good, good… then Shen Li and Jiang Wei…"

Li Jun said softly, "Don't worry, they're both alive."

"Good, that's good…"

Yi Huang relaxed, grabbing Li Jun's arm with a reverse grip. "Thank you, truly…"

The trembling voice made Li Jun frown.

"Say no more. Rest for now. Let me take care of these outsiders first, then we'll talk."

Li Jun turned to move, but startled, felt Yi Huang's grip on his arm slipping.

"Forget it, no need. Get out of here quickly…"

Li Jun's pupils contracted sharply. The old man's body was visibly melting like wax.

"It's our fault—we old fools were useless, blind, trusted the wrong people, stirred up all this damn mess. If we let a younger generation clean up after us, that'd be too shameful."

Yi Huang seemed unaware of what was happening to his body. He tilted his head, searching for Li Jun's face with dim eyes.

"Little Li… truth is, I have one more impertinent request…"

Li Jun said quietly, "Go ahead, I'm listening."

"The Celestial Gate… there's probably no Celestial Gate anymore. From now on, those lads of sect martial sequence—I leave them to you. Raise a sky for them."

Yi Huang's voice carried a heavy apology: "Don't blame this old face for being shameless, wanting to burden you—we really can't hold on…"

"Li Jun, you've finally come. We've been waiting a long time."

In the distance, Tian Chou stood atop a mountain of piled flesh, arms spread wide, laughing loudly.

As Yi Huang melted, Tian Chou's face was visibly growing younger.

Even his features were subtly becoming somewhat similar to Yi Huang's.

"Is it… all right?"

The old warlord, who had never flinched at flesh carved and bones scraped, now seemed to plead timidly.

Li Jun's heart sank like a mountain pressing down, choking his breath.

"Rest assured, elder. I am Su Ce's disciple, and I am Shen Li's big brother…"

Li Jun spoke each word with weight: "While I stand, the Celestial Gate stands! The sky won't fall!"

"Thank…"

In the end, Yi Huang's body melted into a pool of blood in Li Jun's hands.

Perhaps the last sect martial sequence overlord of the Great Ming Empire had perished today, body and soul extinguished.

Black flames rose and burned the blood clean.

Li Jun took a breath, turned, and faced the horrible city of flesh.

Never before had he loathed a sequence so deeply.

Never before had he so wanted to kill.

"Master Ma…"

"Fuck these bastards over!"

A shattering, explosive suona sound shot skyward, violent black-red lightning tore through the heavy night!

The other end of the city.

A brightly dressed woman sat astride the edge of a tall building, squinting at the distant battlefield rumbling with noise.

“It’s already started? Then I’d better hurry. If I’m slow, that bastard Tian Chou won’t leave me even a shred of Li Jun’s flesh and genes.”

Wu Ci licked her lips, lowering her gaze to the densely packed herd of agricultural beasts below.

They weaved through the streets and alleys, as if searching for something.

“Zhao Mengze, where exactly are you hiding?”

Wu Ci muttered to herself, “You only pulled one of my consciousnesses into a dream; it’s utterly useless. If you come out now, we can still negotiate, and perhaps you might survive. But once I find you, you’re as good as dead.”

A sigh rose with the wind.

“One body, four souls—just how many disgusting things have you agricultural orders researched?”

“Want to learn? I can teach you.”

Wu Ci tilted her head and smiled, her expression coquettish.

“Forget it, I don’t have those peculiar tastes. And to be honest, the sight of you like this is really nauseating.”

From somewhere, Zhao Mengze’s disgusted voice rang out.

Wu Ci’s smile froze, and a flush of shame and anger surged up.

“You don’t appreciate kindness; do you really think I’m helpless against you?”

As the words fell, the woman suddenly plummeted headfirst from the tall building, straight down toward that field of flesh gleaming with oil and blood.

Plop!

The sound of impact was like piercing through ocean waves.

Wu Ci’s body in the physical world was swallowed deep into the field of flesh.

And her consciousness, now deep within a lake surface as clear as a mirror.

Four figures, their faces all strikingly Wu Ci.

They wore green, red, yellow, and white clothes, with expressions of joy, anger, pleasure, and sorrow, staring at the man with a wry smile across from them.

Zhao Mengze.

“Four against one—isn’t that a bit too unfair?”