The War Ghost behind them let out a piercing howl, and the short blade in his hand turned a blood-red hue. In a flash, he sliced the clumsy automaton into pieces. Moving with such speed it was almost impossible to follow, the War Ghost leaped into the air and landed beside Tan Yin, raising his short blade high—one strike, and she would be shattered.
Tan Yin felt a sudden, powerful tug. Distracted by her own worries, she wasn’t prepared, and she was violently thrown to the ground. The wind whistled past her ears, and a lock of her long hair, hanging over her shoulder, was cleanly severed by the sharp wind.
Her back was soaked with something hot, and a thick fragrance quickly filled the air. Tan Yin jumped up as if struck by lightning—it was blood! The Grand Monk had been struck by the War Ghost!
She spun around quickly, only to see a faint layer of golden light rippling within a radius of about ten feet around her—it was a barrier, likely one from the Fox Clan. Yuan Zhong stood in front of her, hands pressed together, eyes closed, lips moving as if reciting a chant.
The War Ghost’s short blade slashed violently against the barrier, and with each strike, the golden light dimmed a little. The barrier could withstand the blade, but not the fierce winds generated by its swings. Yuan Zhong’s chest was covered in deep gashes, blood dripping to the ground, filling the air with an overwhelming fragrance.
If this continued, he would die.
Tan Yin reached into her Qiankun bag, feeling for the last piece of golden nanmu wood, ready to pull it out. But just then, Yuan Zhong stomped hard on her foot, causing her to lose her grip, and the nanmu wood slipped back into the bag.
“Sigh, you’re such a burden!” he shouted in frustration, clearly exasperated. “This is a fight between men—why are you getting involved? Just stay out of the way!”
Suddenly, his tightly clasped hands began to open slowly. A brilliant ball of golden light appeared in his palms, swirling and pulsing like a small, golden heart.
With a loud clang, the barrier finally shattered under the War Ghost’s relentless assault. The golden light in Yuan Zhong’s hands floated out lightly and exploded in an instant, scattering golden flecks that swarmed around the War Ghost. Though the War Ghost remained fearless, his blade moved like a butterfly, dancing gracefully. However, the winds generated by his blade could not break through the dense golden flecks. They gradually closed in on him, encasing him in a golden cocoon.
“Move! Why are you just standing there?”
Yuan Zhong grabbed Tan Yin by the back of her collar and roughly tossed her onto the back of the Lark of Bliss. Pressing his hands together again, he chanted, “Grow!”
The golden flecks surrounding the War Ghost suddenly transformed into thousands of long, sharp spikes, piercing through him.
Yuan Zhong chanted again, “Explode!”
The golden spikes detonated violently, leaving the War Ghost no time to scream before he was torn to pieces.
Breathing heavily, Yuan Zhong, covered in blood, turned to look at Tan Yin. He managed a faint smile, his voice filled with humor, “Pretty impressive, aren’t I?”
Before he could finish speaking, his legs gave out, and he nearly collapsed.
Tan Yin quickly caught him and whistled for the Jílè Niǎo. The bird, agitated by the thick fragrance of blood, circled anxiously before flapping its wings and soaring into the air.
“You… you’re the burden…” Yuan Zhong muttered weakly, his head resting on her shoulder. Suddenly, he lifted his hand, lightly brushing her hair, his voice soft, “Silly girl, do you… like me?”
Tan Yin didn’t reply, and Yuan Zhong didn’t hear her answer. His injuries were too severe, and he soon lost consciousness.
In the sky above, the divine phantom continued to call out: “Wu Shuang, Wu Shuang…”
Tan Yin clenched her skirt tightly, leaving Han Nu’s calls behind.
The crystal encasing Yuan Zhong’s left hand was Divine Crystal, one of the treasures of the gods, capable of sealing divine power. However, the War Ghost had used an impure version of the Divine Crystal, which is why its color was black-gray.
Tan Yin cradled Yuan Zhong’s left hand, gently touching it.
Divine Crystal normally exists as a viscous, translucent liquid, but when it comes into contact with divine power, it automatically hardens and forms an impenetrable crystal. No weapon can break it. During the ancient war between gods and demons, Tan Yin had crafted armor for Tai He using Divine Crystal, and that armor had helped him win countless battles.
But the immediate concern wasn’t the Divine Crystal—it was Yuan Zhong’s chest wounds. Though the Fox Clan’s barrier had protected him from a fatal blow, his chest was still crisscrossed with deep gashes, each bleeding profusely.
While immortals don’t die easily, being wounded by a War Ghost was another matter. The cuts made by the War Ghost’s blade healed extremely slowly, and the wounds bled continuously, as if poisoned, corroding his flesh and preventing clotting.
Tan Yin wrung out a clean cloth and wiped the blood from his body, but the wounds wouldn’t close, and the cloth quickly became soaked with blood. The fragrance emanating from the blood was dizzying.
This couldn’t continue—he might die before the night was over.
Tan Yin rolled up her sleeves, her eyes glowing with clear light. She had no choice but to use her divine power to heal him.
But… a cold voice suddenly echoed in her mind: You came to the mortal world to find this person, weren’t you just waiting for him to die?
Her hand, which had been reaching out, slowly lowered. She looked down, quietly watching Yuan Zhong’s pale, unconscious face.
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