Chapter 630: The Long Night Fades Away (End)

Chapter 630: The Long Night Fades (End)

Black-red lightning plummeted from the vault of heaven; a bare-chested martial artist, features twisted into a savage grimace, strode out from the clamorous dust and smoke.

The instant that malevolent gaze fell upon them, Yin Ji and Lin Jia Po felt as though they faced an irresistible natural predator; a sense of crisis, unprecedented in its intensity, flooded body and soul.

Without the slightest hesitation, flesh and blood boiled within the unfolded Jichang, surging toward this body that wore a woman's guise.

Having died once already, Yin Ji dared not hold back in the least; he decisively seized control of the vessel, directly draining the very essence of flesh and blood from his own Jichang.

In a split second, the originally withered frame shot up to nearly three meters tall; bulging muscles burst the tattered, patched foreign robe.

The exposed body was crimson throughout; vein-like scarlet meridians crawled from brow to whole body; white bones interlocked like armor encasing the form; from nape to waist, the spine thrust out a row of grim bone spurs several inches long, as if he bore a hundred hands.

Upon a visage already demonic and monstrous, a bizarre swastika sigil emerged at the brow, adding a thread of eerie Buddhist resonance to the ferocity.

"Old Li, beat these two melon-waists to death for me!"

That arrogant, barbaric voice made cold qi surge straight through Yin Ji's entire being.

Sure enough, the next moment, a fist wrapped in explosive force had already smashed into his face!

*Dong!*

Two fists collided head-on; flat ground gave birth to a thunderclap.

The exploding shockwave lifted the fallen snow; the temple, desolate of incense, teetered in the aftermath and crashed down in ruin.

Fist bones shattered, arm disintegrated inch by inch, spurting blood instantly atomized into mist.

Yin Ji forcibly endured the bone-deep agony; the eyes set in his facial bones were fiercely ruthless; the flesh and blood beneath his feet surged up his legs like flowing water. That smashed-ruined arm, wounds writhing and knitting, restored itself in the blink of an eye.

But before Lin Jia Po, reduced to a spectator for the moment, could even catch her breath, she was sprayed full in the face by the once more splattering blood.

The collapsing momentum surged like rivers and mountains, vast and unstoppable.

Keenness like a blade flaying the body, momentum like splitting bamboo.

Yin Ji was pressed by the storm of fist shadows and force before him until he could not breathe; gradually numbed nerves could no longer perceive the pain of limbs snapping.

"Yin Ji, think of something quick!"

Symbiotically sharing a single neck, Lin Jia Po shrieked in terror; her frantic, uneasy tone held not a trace of the previous composure and arrogance.

Yet her question garnered no response whatsoever.

Yin Ji's throat had long been plugged airtight by surging blood; he could not utter a single word, only casting a cold, dark glance at Lin Jia Po.

Matters having come to this, aside from relying on this sole remaining Jichang beneath his feet, what other recourse could he possibly have?

The people of Sheji had long since been slaughtered to the last; the ability he had meticulously crafted against the Martial Sequence had been utterly defeated; to now try dragging the enemy into a dream would be pure suicide.

Seeing Yin Ji remain stubbornly silent, Lin Jia Po also shut her mouth, her blood-smeared face darkening.

One body, two heads, expressions vastly different.

*Kacha.*

The sound of a leg bone snapping rang clear amidst Yin Ji's chaotic, rising and falling thoughts; his whole body instantly lost balance, tilting sideways.

Before the Jichang's flesh and blood could replenish, a vicious brass-knuckled fist slammed into his waist.

*Pu chi!*

Yin Ji's torso was nearly snapped in two at the waist by Li Jun's single punch; from the massive gash tumbled copious viscera steaming with a fishy, foul heat.

Indescribable agony forced a roar from Yin Ji; the Buddhist Sequence sigil at his brow finally blazed to life at this moment.

*Huala!*

Lin Jia Po's Buddhist intent, like a vast tidal wave, frantically poured into Yin Ji's mind in this life-or-death instant; his will, nearly desiccated after having his dream shattered by Li Jun, suddenly met sweet rain, and Yin Ji shuddered violently.

Only to see the bone spurs bristling on his back instantly grow madly, swarming forward, interlocking and meshing in a flash into a bone shield that tightly wrapped his upper half.

Li Jun watched this, a cold smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

In close quarters, no matter how fast Yin Ji's reaction, could it outpace his fist?

He was deliberately giving the other a chance to breathe; the night was still long, there was plenty of time to slowly torture these two rotten, pus-flowing things.

*Hong!*

Li Jun arched his back and raised his arm, bringing an elbow crashing down on the bone target before him.

The bone shield caved in and shattered, revealing two heads pressed close and four terrified eyes, tumbling backward through the air.

"Lin Jia Po, I know what you're scheming."

Massive essence of flesh and blood condensed upward, repairing Yin Ji's body once more, while the depth of the Sheji was reduced to a mere thin layer.

The oil exhausted, the lamp dry — right before his eyes.

Yin Ji could suppress it no longer; his eyes locked dead onto the terrifying martial artist approaching with measured steps, and he spoke first: "Even if you have some escape method left, don't forget Yuan Mingfei is right beside you. You may hide from Li Jun, but can you hide from her? If you keep holding back, we both die here today!"

"If I don't hide, then you don't hide either!"

Lin Jia Po shrieked: "Nobody play any crooked games; we share the same boat, cross this pass, and the prefecture will be ours from now on!"

"All in!"

"All in!"

Yin Ji let out a low roar; the swastika sigil at his brow melted into viscous golden liquid, flowing over his body, permeating every inch of flesh and bone, twisting like living things, outlining profound Buddhist seals.

Both unleashed every means, holding absolutely nothing back; Yin Ji's flesh and blood and Lin Jia Po's Buddhist intent converged and fused.

In a flash, Yin Ji seemed clad in golden armor; that row of bone spurs on his back detached from his body, fusing with the golden liquid and blood and sinew to forge a giant axe, gripped in his hand, aura soaring to the heavens.

"Li Jun, don't push your luck too far!"

Yin Ji lowered his spine, knees slightly bent; this time he actually charged forward, fiercely pouncing at Li Jun!

"Old man wants to see just how high you two dogs can jump!"

Li Jun laughed coldly, palms pressing together, the brass knuckles clasped in his palms colliding and linking, erupting in a series of clangorous sharp notes — what extended out was actually a Xiu Chun Dao Li Jun had not held in a long time.

"Old Li, this was specially prepared for you, not bad, right?"

Li Hua, standing atop his head, wore a face full of pride, narrowing her eyes, lifting her chin, pricking her ears, waiting for Li Jun's praise.

Li Jun smiled at the words, left hand raising a thumb, holding it high overhead.

Just at this moment, a piercing whistle had already closed in before them.

Yin Ji leapt up, hands gripping the axe, cleaving straight down!

"Overestimating yourselves."

Li Jun's contemptuous gaze met the two pairs of mad, filthy black eyes; single-handedly wielding the blade, he flicked it lightly upward.

*Dang!*

A massive boom, vast and distant like a bell.

The giant axe gave a mournful cry; the colossal body, glittering like gold-tempered steel, was hurled high into the air, fine dense wounds bursting open all over, blood spraying, a miserable sight.

Yin Ji crashed heavily onto the ground, rolling uncontrollably, his spine pressing against the blood-mud, plowing a deep, deep trench.

"Stand up."

A frigid voice, carrying a bone-piercing chill, rang out above Yin Ji's head before he had even caught his breath.

*Clang!*

Blade light descended vertically; Yin Ji rolled sideways in a wretched scramble, barely evading the keen edge.

Elbows pressing against the ground, Yin Ji had just propped himself up when another flash of cold steel cleaved toward his skull!

*Clang!*

Half-kneeling on the ground, Yin Ji's Embroidered Spring Saber ground against the blocking axe shaft, showering blinding sparks as it cleaved the axe in two.

"Stand up."

Yin Ji's lips parted, but before a sound could escape, a knee strike of tremendous force and weight slammed into his face.

Yin Ji tumbled backward through the air, a full twenty to thirty zhang; his golden body shattered, scattering like withered yellow leaves. No blood flowed from his caved-in features; layers of flesh hung limp and soft upon him, like dehydrated cotton wadding.

In his remaining solitary eye, the pupil dilated, unfocused; a bewildered gaze lifted blankly upward.

Li Jun halted one zhang from Yin Ji, head slightly bowed. His bare torso radiated a pressure akin to a primordial behemoth, yet also resembled a heaven-piercing divine mountain standing tall upon the plateau.

As the former leader of the state, one of the Nine Lords of the Eastern Emperor Palace, a sense of powerlessness and utter desolation rose in Yin Ji's heart for the very first time.

Absolute suppression, absolute disparity—it seemed a chasm lay between him and Li Jun; a single step back would be an abyss ten thousand zhang deep.

That he yet lived was not due to the formidable regenerative power of this Jichang, but because the man before him did not wish him to die so easily; he intended to torture him slowly.

*Thud!*

The faint sound of the falling footstep detonated like thunder in Yin Ji's mind.

"Yin Ji, what are you doing?!"

The equally listless Lin Jia Po suddenly shrieked, her voice cracking.

*Squelch!*

Yin Ji's right hand plunged into his own skull, wrist twisting as if rummaging through a mass of mangled flesh and blood for something.

Simultaneously, the scattered fragments of the golden body lying on the ground had silently liquefied at some unknown time, drilling into Yin Ji's wounds like flowing water.

"What am I doing? You'd do better to ask yourself what *you* want to do."

A hoarse voice emanated from Yin Ji's chest: "Aren't you also planning to betray me?"

"Do you think betraying me will let you survive?!"

Lin Jia Po strained her neck forward, face twisted in a grimace, baring her teeth, actually attempting to tear at the arm embedded in the skull.

"So then, let us each seek our own path to survival!"

Husband and wife are birds of the same forest; when calamity strikes, they fly apart.

Two beings sharing one life, interests intertwined—they should have been closer than spouses, yet now they were like mortal enemies, heedless of all else in their desire to kill one another.

*Squelch!*

Golden spines pierced out one after another from Yin Ji's kneeling body, gouging out eyes, puncturing throat, pulverizing the chest.

Yin Ji regarded all this as unseen, utterly unmoved, single-mindedly tearing and digging at his own skull.

Li Jun stopped, left hand shading his brow, watching the hair-raising scene before him with utter indifference.

Kneeling to beg the strong; wielding blade and axe against the weak.

Yin Ji and Lin Jia Po were cut from the same cloth; the former had surrendered himself to the Eastern Emperor Palace, the latter maneuvered among the various Buddhist sects.

The former treated the barbarian populace as fields to harvest; the latter treated believers as slaves.

To survive, they would stop at nothing, utilizing everything and everyone around them that could be used.

When danger struck, they could decisively betray anyone but themselves.

This mutual slaughter did not last long; the golden light leaking from Yin Ji's body gradually dissipated, the ferocity on Lin Jia Po's face suddenly froze, the madness in her eyes solidifying into intense despair and unwillingness.

*Squelch!*

Yin Ji forcibly wrenched a still-writhing segment of Hui Gen from his own skull, clutching it tight with both hands.

He knee-walked two steps forward, raising his ruined arms high.

"Lord Ge Jun, this is Lin Jia Po's true body. Take her back to Sangyan Divine Mountain, and with my assistance, Yuan Mingfei can eliminate all hidden dangers and successfully ascend to Sequence Two."

Perhaps to appear more sincere, Yin Ji exerted every ounce of strength; only after a long while did he coalesce a new face upon his mangled skull.

Drooping eye bags, skin piled in wrinkles, trembling pitch-black lips; eyes dull yellow and hollow beneath graying hair, expression terrified, plastered with ingratiation.

"Please, give me a chance. I truly don't want to die. Please, spare me a way to live."

Li Jun's brows furrowed slightly; the murderous fire in his eyes did not diminish, yet the tip of his Embroidered Spring Saber now rested on the ground.

Though he dearly wished to slaughter the man, Yuan Mingfei's safety was clearly paramount.

Yuan Mingfei's ascension was fundamentally not as smooth as she portrayed; otherwise, she would not have come here seeking Lin Jia Po to exchange for her life.

"You really won't dare anymore?"

Li Jun, about to speak, turned at the sound; Yuan Mingfei's illusory figure drifted down beside him.

"Should I call you Yin Ji of the Heavenly Timing, or Lin Jia Po, the Sangyan Buddha Ancestor?"

"I am Yin Ji. Lin Jia Po is dead, dead already!"

Yin Ji's knees ground forward, raising that segment of Hui Gen toward Yuan Mingfei.

"How would I dare deceive you? Believe me, only I can help you now; otherwise you cannot ascend, and you will die all the same."

"Lin Jia Po, is death truly that terrifying?"

Yuan Mingfei slowly crouched down, gazing calmly at the face before her, draped in pleading.

"To drive you to the point where you don't want even a shred of dignity?"

"Is death not frightening?"

Yin Ji, or perhaps Lin Jia Po, stared fixedly at Yuan Mingfei; the pleading in those eyes gradually withdrew, and a hidden savagery surged forth once more.

"You aren't afraid only because it isn't you dying right now!"

Lin Jia Po spoke in a sinister voice: "Yuan Mingfei, this is your only chance. Share the Buddhahood Fruit Position of Sequence Two with me. I can promise to return this plateau to these barbarians."

Yuan Mingfei shook her head gently. "No need."

"No need?"

Lin Jia Po froze, then shrieked in shame and rage: "You will regret this!"

"In the next life, don't be a Buddhist Sequence again. Lin Jia Po, you are unworthy."

"Unworthy, unworthy."

Lin Jia Po's eye corners twitched incessantly; she suddenly burst into loud laughter, blue veins bulging on her hands as she moved to crush that segment of Hui Gen.

Li Jun's gaze sharpened; blade light erupted violently, severing Lin Jia Po's two arms a split second faster.

But that Hui Gen, fallen into the blood, after a few final twitches, utterly extinguished all vitality.

Witnessing this, Li Jun's face turned unspeakably grim.

Yuan Mingfei, however, seemed to have foreseen this outcome long ago, rising calmly to her feet.

"Yuan Mingfei, I'll become a ghost and you still won't become a Buddha! I'll wait for you in the cycle of reincarnation! When you come down, we'll settle the score once and for all!"

To hell with you!

A gleaming blade plunged straight into Linjia Po's brow!

Yet in that instant, the skull suddenly twisted, and in a hair's breadth the edge of Li Jun's blade flashed aside.

Li Jun lifted his brow, the blade fell, slashing into the shoulder, tearing flesh and bone, sliding down in a gruesome arc.

Splat!

A pair of skeletal, gaunt hands clutched desperately at the descending blade!

Don't kill me, don't kill me.

The old man's throat once again erupted with a desperate wail of pleading, this time unmistakably Yin Ji's voice!

I can help you against the Eastern Emperor's Palace, I can help you against Zhang Jiji, yes, and also Zhang Fengyue; they are your enemies, they will not spare you!

Li Jun, aflame with hatred, planted a foot on Yin Ji's chest, the blade grinding against bone as it was wrenched free, poised to cleave the throat.

Thud!

Yin Ji's head rolled twice across the ground, his sightless eyes rolling upward, the dim pupils reflecting a sudden flash of cold light.

Thwack!

The blade, like a spear, pierced Yin Ji's skull; Li Jun lifted the weapon, twisted his wrist, and bone and flesh shattered together.

[Obtain 150 proficiency points]

[Obtain 120 proficiency points]

Finally, it is over.

The mud swallows the stench of blood, and in the mire, brilliant blossoms quietly bloom.

Li Jun, burdened with irritation, silently turns, gazing upon Yuan Mingfei, whose face is lit with a smile.

Aunt!

Li Hua clutches her garment, pouts, and cries out in a wailing tone.