Chapter Eighty-Nine: Joy

Haunted by his brush with death, Huang Hai felt both hatred and fear toward Song Mingyue.

Though he was only an intermediate warrior, he had been born with a resonance for the divine aura of the White Raven King, and for that reason he held the position of assistant priest in the cult, second only to Lu Hongsheng.

Having long dealt with deities, Huang Hai possessed a profound understanding of mental power. One glance at Song Mingyue’s condition was enough for him to recognize her as a mind master.

The title carried the word “master” because a mind master was fully comparable to a martial master. An eighteen-year-old mind master would be hailed anywhere in the Alliance as a peerless genius.

And such a genius had willingly remained in a small place like Dongjiang. It was unthinkable.

No wonder the Death Angel had come for Song Mingyue—it had set its sights on her formidable spiritual power.

Huang Hai knew very well that the Death Angel was not human, not even something that could be called an intelligent life-form. It was merely a powerful aberration bearing the form of an angel, possessing only the instinct to survive.

Like grass and trees, it instinctively drew in rain and dew, absorbed sunlight; thus roots plunged deep, seeking more nourishment, and branches rose higher to claim enough light.

Once one understood its nature, all these seemingly complex changes were revealed as nothing more than instinct.

The Death Angel’s choice of Song Mingyue was not born of wisdom, but of instinct. Huang Hai had not understood that before, but now he did.

The problem was that the Death Angel was still too stupid; it still needed his guidance.

Using his spiritual power, Huang Hai linked himself to the Death Angel and led it straight toward Song Mingyue.

The moment their consciousnesses connected, a searing pain tore through Huang Hai’s mind. The cold aura of death emanating from the Death Angel was a terrible injury to him.

Without the Death Wing as a buffer, merely being possessed by the Death Angel would have killed him outright in a very short time.

Fortunately, after controlling the Death Angel several times, he had grown used to that power.

Forcing back his discomfort, Huang Hai raised a hand and was about to point at Song Mingyue when a bleak, frostlike sword light suddenly flashed into his eyes.

His gaze sharpened, and only then did he see that the one charging at him with sword raised was Gao Wu.

Huang Hai was stunned. The middle-aged female martial artist had been unable to withstand the mental shock unleashed by the Death Angel—so how could Gao Wu still be conscious? How could he even have enough strength to attack with a sword?

Was Gao Wu’s physical talent really that strong?

Tonight had already brought too many surprises. Even someone as dark and cold as Huang Hai could not remain calm, but his reaction was lightning fast. The instant he saw Gao Wu, he drew his pistol.

A sword was too long and cumbersome to carry.

Early March nights were still bitterly cold, and the rooms were sealed tightly for warmth, effectively blocking out outside sound.

The houses in the villa district were spaced far apart, so firing a gun indoors was not a serious problem.

With the Death Angel at his side, Huang Hai had believed the situation entirely under control; he had brought the gun merely as a precaution against accidents. He had never imagined he would truly need it, and against a mere junior warrior at that.

The distance between them was only a dozen or so meters, and Gao Wu’s charge was terrifyingly swift. In just two steps he had already reached Huang Hai.

A cold, vicious smile spread across Huang Hai’s lips. After more than a month without seeing him, Gao Wu had improved quickly. That burst of speed was almost no weaker than that of an intermediate warrior.

Pity that Gao Wu was not a warrior after all, and could not awaken his source force field to protect himself.

If the situation were not so urgent, Huang Hai would have truly liked to spar with this cheap disciple of his and show him what fear meant.

The moment Huang Hai raised the gun, Gao Wu had already activated his Thunderflash Shift.

His spirit had reached eleven points, and with the temporary three-point boost from Thunderflash Shift, his total soared to fourteen.

That formidable spiritual power also increased the skill’s might.

Divine radiance pierced Huang Hai’s source force field with ease, then in the depths of his forehead exploded like crashing thunder.

Thunderflash Shift made no sound, but in Huang Hai’s senses it became a cataclysmic detonation, and the flashing arcs of lightning shattered the spiritual force he had gathered.

He watched helplessly as Gao Wu swung his sword down at him, yet his body could make no movement at all, nor could he gather any source force. Even the connection between him and the Death Wing seemed to have been blasted apart by that bolt of thunder.

Terror seized him. “What the hell is this?”

His pupils dilated to the extreme. In those widened eyes, Gao Wu’s charging figure could be seen, along with the sliver of cold sword light that came cleaving down in fury.

The keen blade screamed through the air and fell. Gao Wu had used the simplest yet most powerful of his techniques: Split Stone.

Like a wooden post, Huang Hai was divided vertically into two halves beneath the blade, and with the sword’s resonant strike, blood burst outward in a spray of mist.

Still fearing that Huang Hai might not die, Gao Wu followed with a sweeping horizontal slash, splitting him into four pieces.

One vertical cut, one horizontal cut, crossing into a perfect cross: swift, fierce, and ruthlessly vicious.

Huang Hai was killed on the spot, without even the chance to let out a scream.

The resentment Gao Wu had long carried toward him was released together with those two strikes. Looking at Huang Hai’s cleaved body, Gao Wu murmured to himself, “You took such good care of me all this time, so let me return the favor.”

Huang Hai, now thoroughly “brightened,” lay silently bleeding, his face still frozen in terror as it split apart into two halves.

Gao Wu exhaled in relief. Huang Hai was dead; the phantom of the white bird-headed figure ought to vanish with him.

To his surprise, however, the bird-headed phantom showed no sign of dispersing. The breath he had just let out was drawn right back in.

Sensing Huang Hai’s death, the Death Angel turned and glanced at the blood and flesh on the ground, then fixed its cold, empty, deathly white eyes on Gao Wu, sword in hand and standing guard.

The instant Gao Wu met its gaze, he knew something was wrong.

To kill Huang Hai, he had driven all six layers of the Azure Dragon Divine Qi Spell at once, and his agility and spirit were both at their peak.

But that state could only last three seconds. If the white bird creature across from him did not perish, then he would truly be finished.

Not only him—Song Mingyue and Aunt Lan would likely die as well.

Before the divine spell faded, Gao Wu raised his sword and prepared to strike. Whether he could kill the thing or not, fighting was better than waiting to die.

Song Mingyue noticed his movement and, like him, had believed that once Huang Hai was slain, this Death Angel would lose its anchor in the real world and naturally vanish.

She had held the Death Angel in check while Gao Wu dealt with Huang Hai; it had been an unspoken understanding between them, needing no discussion.

Yet the Death Angel did not disperse. Instead, it took an interest in Gao Wu.

Realizing that something was terribly wrong, Song Mingyue did not attempt to flee. Without hesitation, she unleashed all of her spiritual power.

Deep within her mind, a white serpent rose into the air and danced. This was the guardian form she had visualized through her spiritual power. As her strength continued to grow, that form had shifted from illusion toward reality, even acquiring a trace of subtle sentience.

The white serpent had become the foundation of her spiritual power, and at that moment she directly released it as a weapon.

The Frost Moon Sword, seized by the Death Angel, gave off a humming ring of steel, followed by a fierce, spinning silver radiance.

Before the Death Angel could react, it was shredded by that brilliant wheel of light. Its snow-white Death Wing drifted down through the air like a veil of fine gauze.

Having erupted with all her strength, Song Mingyue’s eyes went black, and she fainted instantly. No one was left to wield the Frost Moon Sword, and it spun on, driving itself deeply into the ground.

Seeing the white bird creature torn apart, Gao Wu also breathed a sigh of relief. Then he glanced at the unconscious Song Mingyue and shouted in his heart, “Old Song, you’re incredible!”

As the power of the Azure Dragon Divine Qi Spell faded, Gao Wu’s whole body went weak, but with his spiritual power having reached fifteen points, he was no longer completely drained of strength as he had been before.

He had intended to go check on Song Mingyue first, but then noticed the snow-white wings, drifting in the air like gauze, settling onto Huang Hai’s body.

The wings spread over the flesh like a soft robe, soon turning a vivid red, while the flesh beneath them rapidly vanished.

At the sight of such an eerie scene, even Gao Wu, bold as he was, felt a chill run through him. “What the hell is that? It can suck blood and eat flesh too?!”

Gao Wu did not know what that thing was, but he was certain it was nothing good.

The wings, now crimson, rose again. They swayed once, then drifted straight toward Song Mingyue, moving far faster than before.

“Stay away from her!” Gao Wu screamed inwardly, but the scarlet wings showed no sign of stopping.

He glanced at Aunt Lan, who was still standing there in a daze, and for the moment suspected she was deliberately slacking off.

Nearly ten seconds had already passed since the fight began, and Aunt Lan still had not woken up. As an intermediate warrior, she was honestly rather disgraceful.

He could not rely on Aunt Lan. At this point, he could turn and run, because the evil thing’s target was not him.

But he would never leave. Song Mingyue had just risked her life to save him in the critical moment; fleeing now would be far too ungrateful.

Under such peril, Gao Wu instead became exceptionally calm. He tried to lash at the drifting, smoky wings with his sword, but struck only empty air.

Clearly, the thing was not material.

Right now, his body was weak, and even if he carried Song Mingyue away, it would likely be too late. There was another problem too: the thing had clearly formed a resonance link with Song Mingyue, so even if he took her with him, they would not get far.

Then Gao Wu remembered that he might try the Yin Spirit.

The Yin Spirit could not interfere with material reality, but it shared certain similarities with aberrant spirits like this one.

Moreover, the Yin Spirit contained the divine radiance of True Fire, and could still move source force. In any case, it could interact with external things.

At this point, whether it would work or not, he had to try.

Gao Wu concentrated and barely managed to summon the Yin Spirit. A mass of red light formed into a spirit body and pounced upon the scarlet wings, but the two passed through one another.

Then he activated a wisp of True Fire radiance hidden within the Yin Spirit.

The Yin Spirit had originally been a sentient refinement of the Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance Spell. Though Gao Wu did not have much spiritual power left, it was not difficult for him to ignite the True Fire radiance within it.

The Yin Spirit, its whole body suffused with red light, transformed from intangible and insubstantial into a source-force state, and at once became entangled with the wings.

Through the Yin Spirit, Gao Wu sensed that the crimson wings carried a dense aura of chill and death, and even an unspeakable edge of sharpness.

As the Yin Spirit came under assault from the wings, it naturally burst forth with wave after wave of crimson flame, and the two quickly merged into a single mass, impossible to distinguish.

Watching this, Gao Wu’s scalp prickled. Was his carefully condensed Yin Spirit finished just like that? Still, if it saved little Song’s life, it would be worth it...

Only that muddled mass of red light rolling there made him feel very uneasy. He also did not dare recall the Yin Spirit; if that sinister thing invaded his spiritual world, the consequences would surely be disastrous.

From the mysterious connection with the Yin Spirit, Gao Wu knew he had to find somewhere to place it.

If this stalemate continued, the Yin Spirit would not be able to withstand the myriad particle radiations of the real world and would inevitably collapse completely.

But the scarlet wings would not disperse. By then, he would be done for.

Gao Wu’s gaze shifted to the sword in his hand. The metallic particles composing the blade were dense and stable, able to resist all kinds of radiation.

A thought stirred in him. Perhaps this sword could work.

As his mind moved, the muddled red light slowly settled onto the sword.

A trace of blood still clung to the gleaming blade. As the red light rolled over it, the blood stain quickly vanished, and the red light itself gradually faded.

In less than half a minute, all that remained was a four-foot-long sword, cold and sharp with a frosty gleam.

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