25 The Moment of the Decisive Battle (4)

Jiang Xiaoman leaned against the edge of the bed, her breath ragged, eyes half-closed, and her face flushed a deep, alarming red.

Ever since that demonic energy had inexplicably been absorbed into her body, she had felt increasingly wrong.

When the energy first entered her, she had only felt a cold, aching erosion of her meridians and internal organs, accompanied by a numb, limb-draining weakness. Now, however, she felt an unbearable, swelling pain in her chest, as if it were being torn apart. The pain originated from the deepest parts of her body, and beneath the layers of agony, something foreign seemed to be slowly writhing.

She pressed her hand tightly against her chest, her fingers digging deep into her skin.

"Ugh... ah..."

The swelling pain spread from her heart, surging directly into her brain and churning at the back of her skull.

Soon, her thoughts grew sluggish and heavy. Her eyes were so swollen she could barely keep them open, and her vision was a vast, empty blur. In a daze, she heard a voice by her ear—

The voice said, "My Lord, My Lord, I have finally found you."

As it spoke, a pair of hands cupped her cheeks; the fingers were as cold and sharp as needles.

She recognized this voice—it was Gui Yin’s.

But what was it saying? And who was "My Lord"?

"Yintao has betrayed us, and Bilang... Bilang is dead." The voice was heavy with unconcealable grief.

Who?

"Yushuang and Yuedao are still here. Like me, they have waited through the passing of ages, through the drying of seas and the crumbling of mountains, for your return to reign over the Beyond." The tone was laced with a profound obsession.

Those two names were familiar; she felt as if she had heard them somewhere before.

In a storybook? No, it must have been somewhere else.

"But, My Lord... how did you end up like this?"

The voice sounded as if it were weeping.

Could a demonic creature cry?

At that moment, the swelling pain in her chest finally eased, but the throbbing in her brain intensified. It felt as if a membrane within her skull had been pried open.

In the chaos and darkness, different voices emerged, intertwining and clashing as if long-buried memories were surging from the depths—

[First, a wild, impatient male voice appeared: "I'm telling you, is it really necessary to go?"]

[Then, another calm, composed male voice replied, seemingly scolding the first: "Do not cause trouble. The earth has begun to wither from the north. If Guichen does not return, the grasses will wither away and the mountains will crack and collapse. Hanyuan... can no longer wait."]

[The impatient voice continued: "But the 'Heavenly Tribulation' is so formidable. Even if you make it out, you will surely lose all your power and your body and soul will be extinguished. Forget about finding Guichen; I fear even you will not return!"]

[The calm voice replied: "Ling Guang possesses the strongest core power among us. If she cannot make it out, then neither you nor I can."]

["Do not worry. Yushuang and Yuedao are still there. I will rendezvous with them as soon as possible. Nothing will happen."]

Wait, this voice was coming from her own side. Was she the one speaking?

—Yes, that was it. She had indeed heard those two names before.

She never expected them to spill from her own lips.

This memory seemed to have never existed before, yet it had suddenly sprouted from nowhere. Even stranger, she did not feel the slightest bit surprised; she accepted the memory as naturally as if it had always belonged to her, merely buried deep, far away.

Within her fading consciousness, Jiang Xiaoman felt the demonic creature lean in again. This time, she felt not a shred of murderous intent. It placed its palms over her chest once more, pouring streams of demonic energy into her body, constant and unceasing...

The newly arrived energy raged like a flood, pouring entirely into her chest cavity. She could not make a sound, forced to let the thing inside her heart gorge itself on this offering.

She began to convulse, but the creature gently cradled her back, its every movement filled with an unprecedented tenderness, completely unlike the actions of a vicious beast.

*

Before Jiang Xiaoman lost consciousness, the sound of a door being smashed open reached her ears.

This time, it was not a hallucination in her mind, but a real sound—

"Demon, let her go!"

That familiar voice was like a ray of dawn, making her ignore everything else and use every ounce of her remaining strength to force her eyelids open.

Even though her vision remained blurred, she struggled to distinguish the snowy-white figure, the silhouette rushing toward her.

Never before had she wanted to live as much as she did in this moment.

However, the swelling in her brain swept over her like a storm, finally drowning her completely, and her consciousness plunged into the abyss.

*

The Cold Star Sword flashed like a beam of light. As it struck, Gui Yin instinctively leaped aside.

Jiang Xiaoman, having lost consciousness, drifted limply toward the floor.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist just in time, holding her steady. As the white-clad swordsman pulled her into his embrace, he conjured a spiritual shield with his other hand, shielding her tightly.

Her cheeks were red and swollen; Ling Sichen knew at a single glance: demonic energy had entered her.

Furthermore, when he had burst in, he had seen with his own eyes the creature continuously pumping icy-blue energy into her body. It seemed Gui Yin had truly intended to kill her.

Jiang Xiaoman leaned against his chest. Even in her unconscious state, her body trembled involuntarily. Her breath was weak and shallow, her pale lips quivering. Her fair forehead was covered in a cold sweat, and even with the spiritual shield protecting her, the demonic energy knotted within her refused to dissipate.

Gui Yin, as if driven mad, tried to lunge forward to snatch the unconscious woman, but was struck by three fierce, furious bursts of sword qi, sending it flying into the wall and smashing a hole through the window.

The monster was forced back to the window. It was already covered in wounds, and having just exhausted a vast amount of demonic energy, it would be unable to recover for some time. Its eyes burned like torches as it stared at the immortal swordsman, noting how he kept his sword pointed at it while glancing down at the woman in his arms from time to time.

It pondered for a moment, and a plan formed.

Taking advantage of the moment the white-clad swordsman looked down at the woman again, it lashed out with a ball of demonic energy, which merely grazed the swordsman’s side. Seizing the opportunity, the monster leaped out through the hole in the window.

"Stop!" Ling Sichen instinctively raised his sword to pursue, but the moment his feet moved, he stopped abruptly.

He looked down at the woman in his arms, then back toward the window.

The monster’s escape speed was immense; in the blink of an eye, it had vanished.

Yet the woman in his arms was filled with demonic energy; if he delayed her treatment even a moment longer, there would be no hope of saving her.

For an instant, he stood frozen, unable to abandon the person in his arms, yet unable to take a step.

Though that moment lasted only a heartbeat, to him, it felt as long as the night.

Finally, the sharpness in the young man's eyes faded, and his clenched teeth relaxed as if his strength had left him. He cursed under his breath, though it was unclear whether he was cursing the demon or himself.

Ling Sichen sheathed his sword, turned around, and with gentle movements, scooped the woman up in his arms.

*

Jiang Xiaoman fell into a deep slumber.

Two distinct energies clashed within her—one warm like the spring sun, the other biting and frigid. In the end, the cold energy swallowed the warm, rushing entirely into the depths of her heart.

Then, it was completely absorbed.

What followed was a deeper tremor in her brain, as if a long-sealed box had been pried open. Different images flashed before her eyes at high speed, and a chaotic din echoed in her ears. She could not distinguish the specific voices, nor could she stop the flashing images.

She knew she was dreaming.

Because her senses and limbs belonged to her, yet did not fully belong to her, for she could not control them.

She felt herself falling in a state of weightlessness, yet she felt no panic. The scenes before her continued to change rapidly—from pitch black, to swirling winds and clouds, to countless slimy tentacles waving in front of her.

Finally, it settled into a void of darkness.

And she finally landed.

The crashing of the waves and the surging tide before her made her realize—at this moment, she was at the seaside.

The sea...

Legend had it that the Nine-Curved Divine Dragon, who created the world, first created the sea, then moved several giant boulders to fill it, thus creating the land.

Jiang Xiaoman had longed for the sea since she was a child, yet in reality, she had never been to the coast. However, she had heard the seniors who had been there to slay demons describe the sea.

The sea should be azure. The deep blue sky and the emerald sea, spitting white foam, should be vast and bright.

But the sea in her dream was a pitch-black expanse that seemed to consume souls. The sky was equally dark and bottomless, yet she could see a giant crack suddenly split the center of the heavens, with terrifying mists seemingly eroding the edges.

—Instinct told her not to approach that crack.

She walked straight ahead, her feet treading upon hard, jagged rocks that made her soles ache.

The waves rolled like ink, and the mournful winds whistled, emitting a soft, sorrowful wail.

On the ink-black shore lay a stretch of gray sand and jagged rocks. On a massive boulder sat a young girl in red clothes. Her blood-red short skirt was overly conspicuous in this dark, colorless scene.

The mournful wind carried a sweet melody.

The song was neither