Chapter 90: Murdering Sheng Yi

From within the billowing smoke, a human figure soared outward. Liu Sheng and Liu Wu swivelled their gazes, only to find that it was none other than Sheng Yi!

Their eyes were locked onto the unfolding situation—Sheng Yi hurtling through the air, an expression of anguish etched across his features, and a blade ruthlessly embedded in his chest.

No anticipation had prepared him for the vile twist of fate: during the earlier collision of their palms, Murong Lin had covertly spat a dagger towards his chest. This underhanded manoeuvre was unleashed during their clash, exploiting Sheng Yi’s defencelessness during that moment.

With astonishing velocity, the blade propelled itself towards its target, finding its mark in Sheng Yi’s chest.

A heart-wrenching cry tore from Sheng Yi’s lips as he writhed on the ground.

Witnessing the dire spectacle, the Willow Sword Saint’s expression contorted. Barely a minute had elapsed since Sheng Yi had entered the horse carriage, yet he was now violently ejected, his condition harrowing.

Determination fueled the Sword Saint’s intent to hasten to Sheng Yi’s aid.

But would the ‘Flowering Steel Trees’ allow him to do as he wished?

They wouldn’t.

With resolute devotion, the ‘Flowering Steel Trees’ brazenly risked their own lives to restrain Liu Sheng, prohibiting him from venturing even an inch closer to Murong Lin’s domain.

Meanwhile, Liu Wu was powerless to help as well. After all, he wouldn’t even be able to withstand even a single attack from Murong Lin.

Sheng Yi’s piteous cries reverberated in the air, the torment he endured akin to a ruthless dismemberment of his very being. It felt as though something was being ripped out from within him, as if someone was tearing out his sinews and flesh piece by piece, a torment too excruciating for him to withstand.

“Ahh! What is this!?” Sheng Yi’s anguished cry pierced the air as his trembling hand instinctively sought the dagger embedded in his chest. Despite his fervent efforts, the weakness that had taken root in his body had rendered him too weak.

His prior conflict with Murong Lin had drained his spiritual powers—both his ultimate technique and Manifestation transformation had exacted a heavy toll. The earlier assault, propelling him through the air, had further exacerbated his injuries.

Desperation etched across his expression, Sheng Yi’s his hands flailed weakly as he sought to summon his spiritual powers, grappling with the searing agony that besieged him.

It was an unsettling revelation, the blade was undoubtedly laced with poison, a truth affirmed by the debilitating weakness he experienced.

His intent to invoke his Manifestation transformation and pull out the weapon caused his face to become even paler.

A disconcerting truth dawned upon him: he was utterly incapable of invoking his Manifestation transformation.

This aberration defied all logic.

With mounting desperation, he made a renewed attempt, straining to connect with his Manifestation transformation—the ‘Yin Yang Aura’. Yet, his efforts were met with a disconcerting silence, akin to calling out to a presence before him that remained stubbornly unresponsive.

Panic surged within Sheng Yi, a sense of disarray seizing him. The ‘Yin Yang Aura’ was his last vestige of hope, his sole opportunity to reverse the tides. Yet, the ability to harness it had inexplicably been wrested from his grasp.

Was it stolen?

It was stolen!

Sheng Yi’s complexion, once again a portrait of deathly pallor, now bore the unmistakable shroud of despair.

A whisper from his recollections resonated—a faint echo of someone’s words. Ancient lore spoke of a spiritual weapon, a blade forged by a bygone race, tailored with intent to combat entities like the ‘Qi’. This small dagger bore the extraordinary capacity to absorb the mortal essence of a ‘Qi’. Whether untamed or refined, no mortal form was exempt from its grasp.

Yet, that race had long vanished into the annals of history, and their spiritual weapons had become the stuff of legend. Perhaps, a scant few remained, preserved as relics by collectors.

Sheng Yi’s pursuit of the ‘Yin Yang Aura’ had led him to this knowledge—a knowledge that now crystallized in his horrified realization. The blade embedded within his chest was none other than one of these legendary weapons.

“How…could this be?” Sheng Yi’s voice wavered, the disbelief etched upon his features as he strained to peer at the weapon embedded within him.

Emerging from the wreckage of the carriage with deliberate steps, Murong Lin’s gaze fell upon the scene unfolding before him. The little dagger had fulfilled its purpose, having drained the ‘Yin Yang Aura’ from Sheng Yi’s form. Stepping forward, he extracted the blade, provoking a spurt of crimson from the wound.

His fingers played with the dagger, a joyful expression adorning his features.

Having plundered Sheng Yi’s memories, Murong Lin’s insatiable greed was now directed towards the coveted ‘Yin Yang Aura’ enshrined within him—a resource worth 200 villain value within the system shop.

Upon learning of a weapon capable of subduing the ‘Yin Yang Aura’, Murong Lin promptly scoured the shop and procured this very weapon—the ‘Qi Devouring Dagger’—for a modest cost of 5 villain value. Though of a lower Sky grade, this spiritual weapon held potent utility.

He spat out this dagger during his battle with Sheng Yi, propelling it into his chest to absorb the ‘Yin Yang Aura’.

Sheng Yi’s expression contorted, his terror eclipsing the pride and self-assuredness that had once characterized him as a reincarnator.

His expression was wretched as he asked, “Who exactly are you? Why are you targeting me?”

The intention behind both the ‘Soul-Snatching Array’ and the malevolent ‘Qi Devouring Dagger’ was glaringly evident—they were all meticulously aimed at him.

In the confines of a modest territory like Yan, the accumulation of such resources and effort was an implausible feat. This intricate web of actions suggested either Murong Lin hailed from foreign realms or, more plausibly, someone of higher authority orchestrated these schemes.

As Murong Lin advanced, the voice of the system echoed within his consciousness.

“Ding! The protagonist Sheng Yi’s ‘Little Protagonist Halo’ has completely shattered, his protagonist value has dropped by 50.”

“Ding! Congratulations to master for obtaining a villain value of 50, you may use it to purchase items in the system shop.”

Sheng Yi’s protagonist halo had completely shattered, which meant that he was destined to die here.

Murong Lin walked forward, speaking in a comforting tone, “Sleep, forget your hatred and your frustrations.”

The moment he finished speaking, he raised his foot towards Sheng Yi’s head.

Sheng Yi’s expression was pale as he struggled to utter words, but Murong Lin couldn’t care less about what he wanted to say.

From a distance, the Willow Sword Saint erupted in a fury, his desire to intervene palpable.

“Halt!”

From the imperial palace, three figures hurtled toward the scene. It was Murong Jiao, Mo Wen Dao, and the great elder of the Wang clan—three formidable beings of the Sky Reaching realm.

“Murong Lin! Your time draws near!”

“Despicable! Murong Lin, your demise today is certain!”

Initially fooled by the ‘Murong Lin’ at Concubine Xue’s side, the trio’s realization dawned only after sensing the resounding clashes of energy fluctuations from Sky Reaching realm combat beyond. The conspicuous absence of the usual Sky Reaching realm figures at Murong Lin’s side exposed the ruse.

Swiftly realizing the impostor’s treachery, they raced toward the unfolding scene.

However, Sheng Yi’s severed protagonist halo foretold their failure—he was beyond saving.

The ‘Flowering Steel Trees’ stood their ground, burning away their blood essence as their bodies aged rapidly. Their sacrifice offered a fleeting respite, immobilizing the four encroaching Sky Reaching realm experts.

Meanwhile, Murong Lin administered the final blow to Sheng Yi with a stomp, the act punctuated by the system’s voice echoing in his mind.

“Ding! Master has successfully killed a protagonist, the reward is a gift bag.”

“Open the gift bag!” Murong Lin commanded, harbouring anticipation for a capable entity within, one that could be summoned to confront the encroaching Sky Reaching realm cultivators, thereby nullifying the need for a hasty escape.

“Ding! Congratulations to master for acquiring a seclusion cultivation card, a mystery raffle ticket, and a fragment of the ‘Great villain halo’.”

En? Two new interesting things popped up.

Regret washed over him, for the absence of a strength-enhancing card dashed his hopes of an instantaneous breakthrough to the Sky Reaching realm, which would enable him to effortlessly quash his adversaries.

Neither did the coveted syndicate inheritance card manifest, ruling out the summoning of a few Sky Reaching realm experts to swiftly dispatch his opponents.

Nonetheless, an alternative solution surfaced—the option to procure a spiritual power puppet from the system shop.

But he didn’t need to anymore.

He commanded spiritually, “Self-destruct.”

Injecting his spiritual power into a spiritual talisman, a blinding brilliance erupted, swiftly enshrouding him.

The ‘Flowering Steel Trees’ who had defied the odds to detain the four Sky Reaching realm experts were nearing their limits. Depleted of their strength and exhausting their life essences, they were on the brink of death.

As Murong Lin’s command coursed through them, their expressions contorted with madness and unwavering loyalty.

The Willow Sword Saint and the trio of Sky Reaching realm experts, sensing a sinister shift, launched an attack to end their lives.

Unbeknownst to them, Murong Lin had vanished from their midst.

Ping! Ping!

The ‘Flowering Steel Trees’ detonated in an instant.

A cataclysmic surge of power reverberated through the landscape, reducing roads and houses to ruins as the four Sky Reaching realm experts bore the brunt of its devastating impact.

Shielding his sibling, the Willow Sword Saint emerged battered and broken, mirroring the grievous condition of the elderly Wang clan ancestor.

Amidst the carnage and the veiled skies of blood, the four exchanged a shared gaze, their faces painted in the grim aftermath of destruction.

Murong Jiao’s divine senses, honed by his Sky Reaching realm cultivation, swept through the surroundings with rapid precision.

There was no one left.

Murong Lin was no longer here.

Translator’s note

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