Chapter Forty-Three: Perseverance to the End

“Thirty-eight!”
“Thirty-seven!”
Ke Bei’s face was taut, a streak of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he silently counted another number. His Lightfoot Technique was pushed to its limits, his slightly trembling right hand gripping the saber tightly, his expression resolute.

His figure flickered rapidly as Ke Bei darted through the frenzied ranks of the low-level deities, his nerves strung taut. Just three dozen more deaths—after two relentless hours, only thirty-seven more of these beings stood between him and the completion of the first stage of the Nine Suns Divine Art’s chain quest. This was the fruit of his past two hours’ labor.

Ke Bei’s arm trembled minutely as he gripped his saber, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He was no machine—after so many wild slashes, fatigue welled up from deep within, his stamina ebbing away.

“Thirty-six!”
With a sudden slash, Ke Bei felled another low-level deity, but his body staggered sharply, and another struck him hard from behind.

He spat out a mouthful of blood, eyes glittering with a mad light. With a burst of steps, he retreated, skimming backward on his Lightfoot Technique, rapidly widening the gap between himself and the advancing foe.

“Get out of my way!”

After two hours of slaughter, even Little Nine’s massive body was trembling, his breaths coming in heavy snorts. His strength waned, making his sonic punches ever more laborious.

“Maniac!”

Catching a glimpse of Ke Bei charging forward, blood still gushing from his lips yet still pressing the attack against the mid-level deities, Little Nine couldn’t help but curse inwardly.

Among the three, Han Lingyue had it easiest. Though the deities before him were far more terrifying, his own power was so monstrous as to defy imagination.

“Heh, looks like you don’t intend to cooperate after all.”

Having just smashed sixteen mid-level deities into pulp, the smile on Han Lingyue’s face faded, a chill curling at the corner of his lips.

“You don’t understand my good intentions!”

Han Lingyue paced slowly, then barked out coldly, “So you leave me no choice but to use force. Don’t blame me for what happens next.”

His smile turned wicked, his face even more frigid. He stomped his foot, and deep blue energy gushed from within.

Boom!
A furious gale swept forth, the terrifying energy like a sudden wintry blast.

Bang! Bang! Bang!
Deep blue energy surged over the mid-level deities, instantly sparking a dense cascade of explosions.

With every step Han Lingyue took, a mid-level deity burst apart. He walked with hands clasped behind his back, seven steps in all, and by the time he stopped before five senior deities frozen stiff with fear, every one of the mid-level beings behind him had shattered, hanging in the air like icy sculptures before erupting into fragments.

“Rise!”

Han Lingyue lifted his hands, and the earth beneath shook violently. The five senior deities, eyes glowing violet, were hoisted from the pit by an invisible force, as if gripped by a giant unseen hand.

“This is your last chance.”

Han Lingyue exhaled softly, fixing the five with a cold stare. “I hope you value it, or there will be no deities left in Wushan City today—nor any zombies at all!”

“You may choose to stay silent, but you’d better pray your so-called demon beast allies are as tough as you are. Otherwise, your deaths will have no meaning at all.”

He strolled up to the five senior deities as though meeting old friends, his voice gentle as he gazed into their violet eyes.

“Now make your choice.”

He clapped his hands lightly, a flash of gold in his eyes, and the five regained control of themselves. Yet after witnessing his terrifying power, none dared attempt escape.

The five exchanged glances, their expressions shifting. At last, the leader stepped forward, his voice trembling.

“Human, you are a true master. Our kind respects strength,” he said, glancing fearfully at Han Lingyue.

“As for the Miracle, we truly know nothing. We only came to Wushan City on the king’s command.”

“Human—”

“Enough!”
Han Lingyue cut him off sharply.

“Since you refuse to cooperate, I won’t force you. After all, I’m a good person.”

He gazed coldly at the five, a strange smile flickering on his frosted features, unsettling them to the core.

He stepped forward, bypassing the spokesman, and came to stand before the remaining four. Without looking back, he casually flicked a finger toward the first, and deep blue energy shot from his fingertip, hundreds of invisible wind blades spinning into existence.

Swish, swish, swish!

The blue blades were razor-sharp. Though the senior deities’ bodies were incredibly tough, they were utterly powerless before the storm of blades. In a heartbeat, the first was pierced thousands of times, reduced to a mound of bones and a carpet of flesh.

“All right, the one in charge of this operation is dead. You needn’t worry about being reported. So—anyone want to say something now?”

“The Miracle—”

“Shut your mouth! You’d get the king killed!”
One deity began to speak, but the other three roared in fury.

Han Lingyue’s face darkened. Invisible winds bound the three, his fingers spread wide then clenched into a fist. Their bodies were crushed to powder in an instant.

“Continue. No one will interrupt.”

He fixed his gaze on the last, whose expression flickered with inner struggle.

“Will you guarantee my life?”

The last deity hesitated, staring directly at Han Lingyue.

“I give you my word,” Han Lingyue replied solemnly, his smile gone.

“Don’t worry. As long as you tell us about the Miracle, humanity will protect you. You must admit, our strength far surpasses that of the Celestial Corpse Mountain. With our protection, even if they send their entire force, they can’t touch you.”

He watched as the deity’s eyes flickered, still wavering.

“The Miracle will open in seven days, at Moonwatch Lake, a hundred kilometers east of Wushan City. We were sent here only as a diversion to distract humanity. The nine great high clans of the deities have each dispatched a king. In about three days, the top experts of both deities and demon beasts will converge.”

Gritting his teeth, the deity finally spoke. He’d been sent here as cannon fodder, harboring resentment all along. Now, with death imminent, he betrayed his kin to save himself.

As he finished, Han Lingyue’s face grew heavier, only relaxing into a slight smile when the full story was told.

“Very good. You may leave. Humanity welcomes those who recognize the times—they are all heroes.”

Han Lingyue waved him off. The deity, surprised and honored, bowed respectfully before turning to depart.

Watching his retreating back, Han Lingyue’s lips curled into a cold smile. He raised a finger, and a blue wind blade danced at his fingertip.

Swish!

With a flick, the blade sliced through the air and decapitated the departing deity in an instant.

“Damn fool. Just because you wore human skin, you really thought you were one of us?”

He spat in disgust at the corpse’s lifeless face.

“Boss Han, I can’t go on.”

The massive Little Nine, summoning his last strength, barreled through the low-level deities blocking his way and rushed toward Han Lingyue.

Gasping, he finally relaxed upon reaching Han Lingyue, his huge frame shrinking rapidly until it returned to a normal build.

“Ha! Little Nine, how many did you kill?”

Han Lingyue looked at the sweat-soaked, nearly exhausted Little Nine, tapped his head lightly with his white jade fan, and pried open his mouth to place a deity core inside.

“Sixty-eight!”

Swallowing the core, Little Nine recovered a bit. He looked toward Ke Bei with some pride.

He was quite satisfied with his performance. Even at only the third-rank peak, his Vajra Body let him crush low-level deities. If he broke into the next realm, the Vajra Body’s power would rise again. Then, even mid-level deities might not be able to crack his defenses!

Having slaughtered sixty-eight, Little Nine was spent. Ke Bei wasn’t much better off, his body trembling, looking as if he might collapse any moment, blood at his lips and his black battle robe soaked dark red. Though still tenaciously fighting, his efficiency had plummeted; sometimes half a day passed without a single strike, and only the wonders of his Lightfoot Technique kept him dodging.

“Nine!”
Ke Bei gritted his teeth, eyes bloodshot from overexertion. He had to persevere—such an opportunity was all but impossible to come by! No matter how tired, as long as he could stand, he would not give up!

With a desperate slash, he killed another. But his balance failed, and a barrage of fists from seven or eight deities surged toward him.

“Damn!”
Ke Bei cursed inwardly, powerless to dodge as his body refused to respond.

“What the hell! Is this kid insane?”

Han Lingyue let out a strange cry at the sight. With a flash of golden light from his eyes, he leapt over a hundred meters in an instant, deep blue energy surging.

Just as the deities’ fists were about to land, every one froze in midair, hanging eerily suspended.

“Phew…”
Ke Bei wiped the cold sweat from his brow, brushed the blood from his lips, and struggled to stand.

“Eight left!”

“Big Brother Han, don’t kill them! I must slay eight more—no matter what!”

He leaned on his saber, exhausted yet resolute as he faced Han Lingyue, speaking each word with determination.

“All right. I don’t know why you’re so stubborn, but as your brother, how could I not support you?”

Han Lingyue gazed deeply at Ke Bei, then smiled and shrugged, gesturing at the deities floating in midair.

“They’re all yours.”