Chapter 832 - 188: Death Curse
Su Changxing felt the presence of that Maoshan Daoist, like a blazing flame burning through the surrounding cold, a feeling familiar yet strange; Xu Kai had given him a similar feeling, his spirit flourishing like a flame.
Perhaps this is what distinguishes gifted individuals from ordinary people: their spirit is more vibrant, grows faster, and, as an Extraordinary, they have the upper hand.
However, the energy fluctuations of this Maoshan Daoist were peculiar, forming an arc-shaped zigzag oscillating between Tier Six and Tier Seven.
The man sensed the presence of Hua san, rushing straight over from afar, accompanied by hundreds of fireballs of varying sizes, falling from the sky.
Wherever he went, there was nothing but ashes, the ground littered with charred corpses, emitting a stench.
"Ignorant and naive."
The young Daoist muttered to himself, his face calm, yet also marked by despair, as if crying, tears streaming down.
He walked while crying, scattering talisman papers around as he cried.
The massacre knows no bounds, and at the end, there is only numbness, burning these vibrant lives to death one by one.
The Maoshan Sect’s heritage was originally to combat ghosts, evil entities, demons, including any existence that could threaten humans, a sword for self-protection.
Yet such a sword also makes killing effortless.
"Don’t come any closer, run, if you don’t want to die, run!"
The young Daoist shouted at the top of his lungs, but these people seemed driven insane, rushing at him with suicidal attacks... Having no intention to live.
He had never thought before that these people would be so determined, so insane, believing that a slight suppression would make them surrender.
Tao Yunzhi let out a long sigh of relief; the consecutive high-intensity battles made him feel a suffocating pressure, as if walking in hell, buried in deep darkness.
He then heard a multitude of sounds, as if those who had died were roaring at his ears.
These sounds grew louder, as if countless individuals were covering his body, burying him, making it hard to breathe.
...
Just as Su Changxing thought the two sides would collide, the Daoist holding the Wooden Sword fell to the ground, crying, as the flames vanished.
Replacing them were dense, scarlet words crawling towards him from all directions, resembling insects; these words came from the corpses of the deceased, increasing in number as more died.
This was a colossal curse, terrifying, even Su Changxing found it incredible.
Perhaps this was Lin Xiuyu’s plan.
Unreliable, Su Changxing felt he was walking on a tightrope, with abysses on both sides that could engulf him at any moment.
Lin Xiuyu was guiding over a million people to become a not-so-precise machine walking on this tightrope.
Attempting to contact powers stronger than oneself is dangerous; such strength is often uncontrollable.
This danger stems from greed, blind confidence, and pessimism in a desperate situation.
Eric was noticed by the Divine Spirit back then because he sought further advancement into a domain beyond mortal reach.
All things follow cause and effect; amidst many coincidences, a certain inevitability reveals itself.
Hua san paused on the hillside, looking blankly at the scene, somewhat confused about what was happening.
As the scarlet words gathered, they increasingly resembled living insects crawling swiftly on the ground, densely packed, numbering in tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions.
They originated from those already dead, birthed through their lives, souls, and everything, a forbidden life... devouring all enemies before them in hatred as revenge.
However, these newly formed curses were not powerful; the young Daoist was formidable himself, managing to crawl out from the curse’s burial, albeit missing an arm and a leg, but still alive.
Hundreds of burning talisman papers floated around him, like fireflies in the dark, flickering, yet fervent.
Nonetheless.
This was not the end.
Such actions enraged the curse-formed insects, causing them to circle him at even greater speed.
The scarlet color intensified, turning into a scarlet banner, red turning to black, visible amidst black fog.
"You’ve gone insane, you’re courting death!"
The young Daoist looked at them, shouting with tears in his eyes, appearing sorrowful.
Su Changxing could feel his genuine sadness coming from the heart, resonating with the soul’s fluctuations, sharing the same frequency.
In such a world, defining a lunatic is challenging.
Unsure whether the opposite side is insane, or if you are...
Or rather.
Insanity is a relative concept; those with different worldviews inherently cannot share the same understanding.
The Daoist retreated while drawing lines on talisman papers with the blood from his severed arm.
These lines bore traces of talismanic patterns, probably evolved from those patterns.
As numerous talisman papers stirred waves of energy, they astonishingly blocked the curse swarming forward.
The young Daoist’s energy fluctuations soared further, breaking through Tier Six.
Su Changxing knew these people were doing the same; concealing their true strength, evidently the limitations on Blue Star were effective on them as well.
They too had to somewhat conceal their strength, lest the "Antivirus Software" noticed them.
At this point, Tao Yunzhi couldn’t care less; death was inevitable, might as well fight one last time.
"You think relying on these underhanded tricks will ensure victory, Maoshan Daoists excel at handling these!"
He shouted at the sky, seemingly not addressing anyone in particular, his emotions appeared agitated, even his tears halted.
"Nine Dragons Singing!"
A pair of eyes opened in the void, gazing at this tiny world.
Flame ripples spread from the young Daoist’s surroundings, dragon-shaped, even showing iridescent scales, vividly lifelike.
Such immense vitality manifested in the young Daoist, even though he only had one leg and one hand left.
Those scarlet words were forced to retreat, halted in place, suppressed.
These curses born from masses of dead couldn’t fully subdue the young Daoist.
Yet this brilliance was like a meteor, fleeting, then deeply buried in the ground.