Doomsday in Progress

The once majestic Heavenly City was now shrouded in a bloody haze, its grand silhouette reduced to a blurry outline. Crimson streaks rained down from the sky—traces of an unfathomable terror that dyed the heavens red. At the center of the firmament, a fissure of mingled scarlet and gold slowly yawned open.

Neither the Celestial Clans nor the warriors of the Earth City could discern what was unfolding within the churning blood clouds above. Only fleeting glimpses of icy moonlight and soaring battle intent pierced through, followed by ever-thickening showers of crimson rain.

"This rain... it's wrong!"

Dong Geyu shuddered violently.

A wave of sinister cold surged through her body, an alien and overwhelming energy saturating her being. Her figure rapidly elongated, horns sprouting from her forehead.

And suddenly, she craved grass.

"I... I've turned into..."

She pulled a mirror from her robes and gasped in horror:

"A minotaur?!"

She wasn’t alone. The Blade Hunters were all gradually transforming into demonic creatures.

Only the Celestial Clans remained unchanged, though their auras had weakened.

This meant every warrior of the Earth City, every mortal of the Human City—anyone touched by the blood rain—would likely become a monster.

"You relied on the masses, didn’t you?"

The Blood God’s voice echoed from the void, laced with fury and mockery:

"Now, my Blood Rebirth has turned them all into demons. Where will your power of the masses come from?"

"If you refuse to leave with me, then perish with this realm..."

His voice faded slowly, but not before his gaze lingered deeply on Ying Bing.

The Blood God fell silent, yet the blood clouds and the fissure remained.

"Why is the rift still widening without the remnants to sustain it?"

Li Mo knew the Blood God had entered the fissure and would return even more terrifying.

But he couldn’t fathom what force, mightier than the Blood God, could tear apart the Heavenly Phoenix Domain.

He wanted to ask the ice block, but Ying Bing hadn’t spoken, her eyes fixed on the sun.

The great sun, veiled by the bloody haze, looked unnervingly sinister.

A flicker of dark understanding passed through Li Mo’s eyes.

Of course.

Someone had tried to trap Ying Bing in the Heavenly Phoenix Domain, but his presence had thwarted their plans.

Now, they’d resorted to more desperate measures.

Even though the Blood God and this unknown force were enemies, they’d made the same choice when facing Ying Bing:

Destroy the Heavenly Phoenix Domain—and everything within it.

Ying Bing turned to Li Mo, her voice soft:

"You..."

"You said the ice block doesn’t lie to childish fools."

"..."

She pressed her lips together, struggling to maintain her usual composure, to assure him she wasn’t scheming.

But under his burning gaze, all pretense felt meaningless.

"But your spirit and strength are spent, the power of the masses exhausted... Staying won’t help..."

"It’s fine. I still have one move left."

"What?"

"The King of Brawls’ ultimate technique."

"Stop joking." For once, Ying Bing looked frantic, reaching to pinch his waist—only for him to catch her hand and pull her into his arms.

She froze but didn’t resist.

"Ice block, if we pull out that fire poker and project the small world outward, would it work?"

"It would... The Heavenly Phoenix Domain isn’t a true world like the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths. But you haven’t reached Inner Scenery yet..."

Ying Bing lowered her head, murmuring:

"You won’t survive it."

"What happens?"

"Your Inner Scenery collapses. Your body withers. Your spirit disperses. At best, you lose all power, becoming weaker than before you ever trained. You’ll never cultivate again. At worst..."

She shut her eyes, unable to continue.

"Good enough." Li Mo exhaled in relief.

Ying Bing’s usual icy demeanor had melted into something adorably dazed, like a lost soul.

(Note to self: Ice block’s bobblehead doll should capture this expression.)

"As long as we can still get married."

His voice was light, but she felt his arms tighten around her—so close she could hear his heartbeat through the thin barrier of his chest.

After a long pause, she finally looked up:

"Understood."

Then she was gone, charging into the blood-drenched clouds with the Heavenly Phoenix Domain in tow.

Li Mo watched her ethereal figure vanish, wrapped in moonlight. He touched his chest, where her fragrance lingered and a damp patch had formed.

(Melting ice drips water—perfectly logical.)

With a deep breath, he addressed those below:

"Everyone, come in."

The warriors of Mo City had also been transformed by the blood rain, but their martial arts were born of demons. Instead of losing their minds, they’d grown stronger.

The Celestial Clans paled, realizing now how meaningless their struggle for the throne had been.

The sinister aura swelling from the fissure left them too terrified to resist.

"This world is doomed. When the nest is overturned, no egg remains unbroken. I don’t know what comes next, but it’ll be worse than this."

Li Mo’s gaze swept over the map:

"Time is short. Leave the Blood God to me. The rest is in your hands."

"What do you need?"

Pojun spoke for the Celestials. They had no retreat—if even Li Mo, an outsider, stayed, how could they flee?

As for Mo City’s Blade Hunters—well, demons now—they needed no urging.

"Celestials, go to the Heavenly Human City’s borders. Use your innate power to keep it from fracturing."

"Mo City’s forces, return to where the blood rain fell. Do what you’ve always done."

"Oh, and wear your Blade Hunter insignia. We must distinguish ourselves from true monsters."

The brief council ended. All departed for their posts.

If they didn’t hurry, the shifting stars and rising earth would soon render the map useless.

And the being in the fissure would return...

With everyone gone, the world grew eerily quiet.

Amidst the apocalypse, an uncanny stillness settled.

Li Mo meditated, seizing every second to recover.

Soon, he sensed a ripple above.

Silently, he drew the fire poker—the one that had been planted in the ground for so long—from his small world.

Strangely, this time, it offered no resistance.

As if it, too, had been waiting.