Life-or-Death Gamble

The opponent’s mass far exceeded his—this was not even in the same order of magnitude.

But it had no consciousness.

That was the only advantage.

It possessed only instinct, only hunger, only the impulse to devour. No strategy. No judgment. No consideration of whether or not to exert force at this particular place.

Chen Guan exploited that weakness. He compressed his mental energy into the finest possible thread and drove it into the gaps of the entity’s will.

The gold-and-red patterns in his pupils expanded yet again.

Yin Chen rose from behind the Frostbone Wolf, his gaze fixed on Chen Guan’s back.

“His eyes have changed.”

Hong Yuan saw it too. She swallowed hard, tightening her grip on the battle-axe.

“Not just his eyes. Look at his right hand.”

The black-and-red markings on Chen Guan’s right hand had already crawled past his wrist, snaking up his forearm all the way to his elbow.

The Tongxuan Turtle—without warning—appeared above Hong Yuan’s head, shimmering with brilliant golden light. It radiated upward toward the sky, then redirected the energy downward into Chen Guan’s body, making those sinister black-and-red patterns seem far less ominous.

Hong Yuan poked the Cheater Turtle atop her head with delight. Good turtle, pulling through big time!

Su Yuehe stood beside Guan Jinyue, both hands crossed over her chest as she maintained the soul-receiving ritual.

“Elder Yin, how much time is left?”

Yin Tianzheng did not answer her question. Instead, he began counting out loud.

“Four seconds.”

Guan Jinyue’s silver threads had already touched the soul deep within the seal. Her ten fingers trembled slightly in the air.

“Three seconds.”

The soul began to loosen.

Just then, Chen Guan’s body swayed.

The will of that demon god launched a counterattack on the mental plane—no strategy, no wisdom, only instinctual pressure. An unconscious, mindless roll was enough to nearly shatter Chen Guan’s mental strength.

Baal let out a sharp, piercing screech: “It’s awakening—break the connection now! You don’t have time!”

Even Lord Bael was not omnipotent. Damn humans, stop courting death!

Chen Guan was famous for ignoring advice. He did not sever the link.

He looked down at the black iron coffin beside him.

The coffin was vibrating. A hum from within matched the frequency of the demon god’s will beneath his feet exactly—one high, one low, alternating in resonance.

A faint light was seeping from the coffin’s cracks, the same shade of black and red.

The entity within was responding.

Chen Guan pressed his left hand against the coffin lid.

The coffin did not open, but the gap widened by a hair’s breadth. A surge of power of the same origin poured from the coffin, flowing through his left arm and into his body—where it collided with the savage will of the demon god surging through his right arm.

The two forces met inside him, forming a stalemate.

No absorption. No rejection. A balance so delicate it teetered on the razor’s edge—neither could devour the other.

Chen Guan was the fulcrum of that balance.

Blood began to drip from his nose, each drop striking the shattered metal plates at his feet and being stretched into thin red streaks by the wind.

He had Creative Regeneration. He had the Deathless Blade. He would not die—absolutely not! So why not gamble his life, burning forward until he collapsed into rot?

“Two seconds.” Yin Tianzheng’s voice was now completely hoarse.

Guan Jinyue tightened her ten silver threads.

Her lips moved.

There was no sound, but anyone could read the shape of those two words.

Little sister.

“One second!”

Guan Jinyue yanked her hands upward.

From deep within the fissure of the seal, the silver threads dragged out a faint ball of light—flickering, fragile, like a candle flame in the wind, ready to die at any moment.

Su Yuehe stepped forward, her palm glowing with a soft radiance that gently cradled the soul. Her incantation’s power wrapped around it tenderly, preventing it from dissolving further.

Guan Jinyue’s hands trembled.

She stared at the faint light in Su Yuehe’s palm. Something surged in her eyes, but it did not fall.

“Close it!”

Yin Tianzheng roared, slamming both palms one final time against the metal plate. The extinguished golden runes reignited, layer upon layer, spreading rapidly from the tower’s peak downward.

The seal was shut.

The demon god’s will, its upward channel cut off and severed, writhed for a moment in what remained inside Chen Guan’s body. The forces left behind were consumed bit by bit by the power seeping from the coffin.

The black-and-red pillar of light dissolved.

The wind still blew, but the soul-crushing dread that had pressed down on everyone vanished in an instant.

Long Ao let out a long breath, his legs weak as he leaned against the platform railing.

Hong Yuan drove the battle-axe into the ground and bent over, gasping for air.

An Changqing sheathed his sword, his fingers still quivering.

Yin Tianzheng knelt on the shattered metal plates, pulling his hands out of the imprints. His fingertips were covered in blood. He did not wipe them. He raised his head and looked at Chen Guan.

Chen Guan was still standing.

His right hand hung at his side. The black-and-red patterns were retreating—slowly, like an ebbing tide pulling back from the shore, receding toward his fingertips, drop by drop.

Blood still streamed from his nose.

He raised his left hand to wipe it away, glanced at the blood on his palm, then turned to look at Su Yuehe.

“Is the soul stable?”

Su Yuehe nodded. The light in her palm was steadying.

“Stable. It’s very weak, but it won’t collapse.”

Guan Jinyue walked over to Su Yuehe and extended her hand. Traces of silver light still lingered on her fingertips.

She did not speak.

Su Yuehe gently transferred the soul into her hands.

Guan Jinyue cupped the faint glow in both palms, pressed her fingers together, and lowered her head.

Her silver hair cascaded forward, hiding her face.

No one saw her expression.

A long silence settled over the platform.

Yin Chen was the first to notice something wrong.

“Chen Guan… your eyes.”

Chen Guan turned his head to look at him. Yin Chen took a step back.

The gold-and-red patterns had faded. Chen Guan’s pupils had returned to their original color, but deep within those eyes, the faintest shadow was drifting.

It was an unnamable hue, moving slowly, as if alive.

Long Ao saw it too. He opened his mouth.

“There’s something in your eyes.”

Chen Guan did not answer.

He looked down at his right hand.

The black-and-red lines had all contracted to his fingertips—but the very last trace had not completely disappeared.

At the root of his middle fingernail, a spot the size of a pinprick remained, embedded in the skin.

What was this? The age of tattoos now?

Baal’s voice drifted over, faint and bitter.

“Well, well. You actually pulled it off.”

Chen Guan ignored him, clenching his right hand into a fist.

Guan Jinyue lifted her head. Her silver hair slid to the sides. Her eyes were red, but no tears stained her face.

She looked at Yin Tianzheng, forcing herself to maintain her composure.

“The transaction is complete.”

Yin Tianzheng, still kneeling on the ground, spoke one word at a time.

“It is.”

Guan Jinyue turned and walked toward the edge of the platform. She raised her right hand and snapped her fingers once in the air.

In the distance, above the city, the remaining spatial rifts began closing at a visible speed.

With each rift that sealed shut, the roars of the sky-beasts weakened.

She stopped at the very edge of the platform, standing still.