Dead Me

A bizarre scene unfolded.

The moment his fist touched the counterforce inscription, it directly pierced the stone wall.

It burst out from the light gate in front of An Changqing, slamming heavily against the inner side of the stone wall.

With a loud crash, the solid stone wall exploded, and Long Ao’s figure charged out. He coughed a few times as he regrouped with the other two.

An Changqing looked around, his brow furrowed tightly.

“Wait.”

“Where is Chen Guan?”

Only then did Su Yuehe and Long Ao realize.

From earlier on, they hadn’t seen Chen Guan’s figure at all.

“Hahahahaha!”

On the high platform,

Yue Teng let out a wild and frenzied laugh.

He stretched out his hand fanatically, pointing at a writhing black silk cocoon at the center of the altar.

“Don’t bother looking.”

“That companion of yours carrying the iron block has already become the finest nourishment for the Sovereign’s descent.”

Yue Teng’s laughter echoed through the cold storage chamber.

The sound grated harshly on the ears.

The black cocoon on the altar writhed, each strand of black silk pulsing like blood vessels.

Su Yuehe’s breath caught. She raised her head to look at the giant cocoon, and moments from the past flickered before her eyes.

Enrollment… class assignments…

Scene after scene flashed like a zoetrope, her nails digging deep into her palms.

“Chen Guan… is he dead?”

An Changqing’s brow locked tight, the hand holding his sword trembling slightly.

He could hardly believe it.

Because in his eyes, Chen Guan’s strength surpassed his own—this was a man with no weaknesses.

“Bullshit!”

Long Ao roared, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot.

He absolutely refused to believe that the guy who loved to hide his strength would die like this.

“How could he possibly become nourishment that easily?”

Long Ao’s muscles began to swell, dark veins pulsing fiercely beneath his skin.

He glared at Yue Teng on the altar, his eyes burning with almost tangible fury.

“Even if it’s true, I’ll tear you apart into pieces.”

Long Ao stamped his foot, shattering the metal floor, and shot toward the altar like a cannonball.

The stone pillars blocking his way couldn’t stop him. He threw a punch, and the shockwave tore through the air, shattering the pillars along his path into rubble.

Yue Teng stood on the altar with a cold smile, watching Long Ao charge, his face full of contempt.

“Anger always makes the weak lose their reason.”

Yue Teng casually opened the black parchment scroll in his hand.

“Since you’re so eager to reunite, I’ll grant that wish.”

Two towering figures stepped out from one side—obsidian guards wielding giant hammers.

Their auras had already reached the strength of the sixth rank.

The guards blocked Long Ao’s path, raising their hammers and swinging them down at his head with a howling wind.

“Get lost!”

Long Ao didn’t dodge. He chose to clash head-on, swinging his fist to meet the hammer.

A deafening clang exploded through the temple. The metal floor beneath Long Ao’s feet caved in inch by inch, his entire arm going numb, but he didn’t retreat a single step.

“Changqing!”

Long Ao gritted out. He couldn’t afford to be pinned down here.

“Got it.”

An Changqing’s long sword let out a soft ring, and his entire form turned into a streak of light, evading the attack of the other guard.

The sword light traced an arc through the air, heading straight for the guard’s core.

“Yuehe, lock down that guy’s movements.”

An Changqing shouted.

“Word Spirit: Imprison.”

Su Yuehe’s voice rang out in the open space, and an invisible force enveloped the guard.

The guard’s movements froze for an instant, its steady steps leaving an opening.

An Changqing yelled, “Long Ao!”

Long Ao didn’t miss the chance. Enduring the piercing pain in his arm, he tightly embraced the guard’s waist, concentrating all his strength into his other arm.

With a thunderous crash, his heavy fist struck the guard’s core, sending shards of rock flying everywhere.

The guard’s body began to disintegrate, turning into countless black specks of dust.

Seeing this, Yue Teng’s smile froze on his face.

He hadn’t expected these few people to unleash such powerful combat strength in so short a time.

“A bunch of annoying pests.”

Yue Teng started to panic. He pressed a hand on a mechanism at the edge of the altar, forcibly activating it.

“Since you’re so eager to die, then all of you stay here as sacrificial offerings for the Sovereign’s descent.”

The altar began to shudder. More black sludge seeped out from the stone cracks, all merging into the writhing giant cocoon.

The cocoon’s surface started splitting. It swelled violently, cracks appearing across its shell.

Black mist surged wildly from the fissures.

Yue Teng knelt on the altar in excitement, spreading his arms fanatically.

“Sovereign, descend now!”

He awaited the arrival of that entity, but instead of a miracle, he only saw the cocoon trembling.

The thick layers of silk were breaking apart from the inside. An arm with a metallic sheen emerged from the cocoon.

No—that was not an arm. It was a black scythe.

That huge black scythe gleamed coldly under the moonlight.

With a soft tearing sound, the thick cocoon wall was ripped open like cloth.

Chen Guan stepped out from inside. He brushed off the black fragments from his clothes and glanced at Yue Teng, who was kneeling on the ground.

“Dead? Me?”

Chen Guan’s voice was flat, his expression devoid of any emotion—the kind of look that didn’t seem to be looking at a living person.

“Who gave you permission to pronounce my death sentence?”

Yue Teng stumbled backward a few steps, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Impossible. How are you completely unharmed?”

Yue Teng’s face turned pale. He stared at the scythe in Chen Guan’s hand, and a surge of dread welled up inside him.

Chen Guan didn’t bother with Yue Teng’s nonsense. He simply glanced at the still-writhing black cocoon.

He cracked his neck, then swung his scythe in a semicircle.

“Now, it’s my turn to act.”

Standing not far away, Long Ao watched Chen Guan and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I knew he wouldn’t die.”

It felt like being tricked again, yet Long Ao let out a long sigh of relief.

An Changqing eased up and sheathed his sword.

Su Yuehe’s eyes finally regained their light, her usual expression returning to her face.

“Thank goodness. You’re not dead.”

“Thanks for your concern. He can’t kill me yet.”

Chen Guan nodded at her, then took a step forward.

With each step he took, the black mud on the ground automatically avoided his feet, as if fearing some presence.

Yue Teng turned and tried to flee toward the hidden passage behind the temple.

But Chen Guan’s scythe had already fallen.

A black crescent swept silently. The remaining two guards didn’t even have time to react before they disintegrated into clouds of dust upon contact with the blade.

Yue Teng hadn’t even run three meters before an immense force pressed down on his shoulder.

He was slammed to the ground, completely immobilized.

Chen Guan stood behind him, his voice clear and distinct in the empty underground temple.

“I told you. Did I say you could leave?”