Chương 61: Severely Wounded

Even though the Perfected Xuan Liao had succumbed to his demonic transformation and lost all semblance of human reason, a primal, predatory instinct remained etched into his very marrow. As Reyn, who had been fleeing like a cornered beast, suddenly pivoted for a lethal counter-strike, a flicker of hesitation crossed the monster's distorted features. Yet, in the next heartbeat, a guttural roar erupted from his throat.

A massive palm, wreathed in the baleful flickers of obsidian demonic flame, descended like a falling mountain toward Reyn's chest. Boom! Reyn's fist tore through the layers of suffocating miasma, connecting squarely with the creature's sternum. In that instant, a blinding, solar radiance erupted from his knuckles—a miniature sun born from the void, exploding with violent intensity. This was the Gengjin Sword Qi, the absolute zenith of sharpness in the mortal realm. It knew no resistance.

It bypassed the demonic armor and the toughened hide as if they were mere gossamer, carving a jagged, cavernous hole through Xuan Liao's torso before erupting out of his back in a spray of black ichor. The golden energy lingered for a moment, humming with lethal intent, before finally dissipating into the air.

"ROAR!" A scream of transcendental agony tore from Xuan Liao's throat. Nearly a third of his torso had been pulverized, his ribs reduced to splinters by the shearing force of the Gengjin Sword Qi. Yet, the roiling demonic essence within him surged into the wound, knitting flesh and bone with unnatural speed. Instead of dying, the agony drove him into a state of ultimate, mindless frenzy. His blackened palm slammed down with the weight of a collapsing star.

Reyn barely managed to twist his body, taking the blow on his shoulder instead of his heart. Crack! Crack! Crack! The sickening symphony of shattering bone echoed through the clearing as his humerus and scapula were ground to powder. Just as the killing force threatened to liquefy his organs, a sudden burst of ink-black light radiated from his shoulder, neutralizing the brunt of the impact. Even so, the shockwave sent Reyn spiraling backward, his meridians ruptured and his internal structure a ruin.

He coughed up a torrent of visceral blood, his body skipping across the air like a stone thrown across a pond.

"You absolute lunatic! You madman!" A voice, trembling with a mixture of fury and shock, shrieked within his mind. It was Yu Meiren.

"To trade blows at close quarters with a demonized cultivator... if I hadn't intervened, you'd be nothing more than a pile of minced meat by now! If you want to seek death, do it on your own time—don't drag me into the abyss with you!" Though her voice was sharp, Reyn could detect an underlying thread of profound exhaustion. Reyn's state was more precarious than ever. His flickering escape light sputtered like a candle in a gale, threatening to extinguish at any moment.

Falling from a height of dozens of meters in his current condition would be a death sentence.

"So, you're awake, Daoist... cough..." Reyn's vision swam as blood leaked from his seven orifices. His shoulder was a sunken crater, his arm hanging at a grotesque, useless angle.

"I didn't expect your first awakening to coincide with my final hour. It seems choosing me was your greatest mistake. I'm sorry... I have no way to sever the contract between us now. Perhaps in the next life, I can repay this debt." There was a heavy silence from the ring. Then, Yu Meiren's voice returned, colder and more resolute.

"Death? Do not insult me. I have weathered the storms of countless eons; I will not fall at the hands of a mere Foundation Establishment insect." A spark of hope ignited in Reyn's dying embers.

"Do you have a way? If we survive this, I, Reyn, swear upon my Heart-Demon that I will stop at nothing to restore your former cultivation. I will not break this oath!" The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"In your storage bag, you have two Dan Treasures—a Golden Needle and a Silver Sword," Yu Meiren commanded, her voice fading slightly.

"I will transmit a mnemonic to you. Perform a Blood Refinement immediately. It is your only path to survival." As she spoke, she couldn't help but sigh inwardly. She hadn't just woken up; she had regained consciousness back at the Immortal Greeting Pavilion. She had remained silent, observing Reyn from the shadows of his soul.

She had seen him risk everything to save Li Xiumei, watched him outwit two Foundation Establishment experts, and witnessed his unwavering resolve in the face of the ultimate temptation within the mountain cave. Even now, at the precipice of death, his first thought was for her safety and the fairness of their contract. Unbeknownst to him, the cold impression she held of this mortal was beginning to thaw. Reyn didn't have the luxury of reflection.

He focused every ounce of his remaining willpower to memorize the script flooding his mind. The Blood Refinement technique was elegantly simple, and within a few breaths, he had mastered the flow of the incantation. Clinging to the ragged edge of consciousness, Reyn reached into his storage bag and retrieved a jade box. Inside lay two talismans etched with deceptively simple lines. He grabbed the Golden Needle Dan Treasure—the very one he had looted from the man in black at the Small Hillside Market.

With a ragged gasp, he bit his tongue and sprayed a mist of essence blood onto the parchment. His face turned a deathly translucent white, and his vision blurred into a grey haze. He was operating on nothing but pure, unadulterated spite against fate. I have obtained a heaven-defying treasure. The Great Dao is within my reach. How can I fall before I reach the peak? Images flashed through his mind: the fading light in Ji Yueli's eyes, and Li Xiumei's trembling form waiting for him in the cave.

"I will not die! I refuse!" His roar was internal, a psychic scream that forced his scattered consciousness back into a singular point of focus. His fingers blurred as they formed a series of complex mudras, striking the talisman. The essence blood was instantly devoured by the paper. The talisman erupted into a localized sun of golden flame, and as the parchment turned to ash, a needle-shaped treasure, barely a few inches long, hovered before him. Though tiny, the pressure it exerted was mountainous.

Far off, the demonized Xuan Liao felt the shift in the atmosphere. Terror finally pierced through his madness. With a panicked shriek, he turned, his demonic clouds billowing as he attempted to flee into the horizon.

"Go!" Reyn forced the last drop of spiritual energy from his dantian. The Golden Needle vanished. In the distance, Xuan Liao's fleeing form suddenly froze. The demonic energy surrounding him shuddered and then collapsed. He plummeted toward the earth like a lead weight. Upon closer inspection, a tiny, cauterized red dot marked the center of his forehead, matched by another at the base of his skull. The Golden Needle had transfixed his cranium, obliterating his Primordial Spirit in a single, silent stroke.

Seeing his enemy fall, the last string holding Reyn together snapped. Darkness rushed in, and he tumbled toward the jagged earth below. Suddenly, the ethereal, breathtaking silhouette of a woman appeared beside him. With a graceful wave of her hand, the air seemed to thicken, cushioning his fall and lowering him gently to the grass. She looked down at his broken body with a complicated expression, sighed softly, and dissolved back into the ring. Pain. Agony. Ruin.

Waves of tearing sensation, both physical and spiritual, lashed against Reyn's mind, nearly dragging him back into the void the moment he regained a sliver of consciousness. He forced his eyes open. The world was shrouded in the deep velvet of midnight. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to sit upright. The dried blood on his back had fused with the grass; as he moved, the skin tore away, sending fresh spurts of crimson onto the soil and a jolt of white-hot pain through his spine.

Reyn hissed, drawing in a sharp breath as he turned his vision inward. He let out a hollow, bitter laugh. Nearly half of his skeletal structure was pulverized. His meridians were a tangled mess of ruptured silk, and his dantian was as dry as a desert bone. By all rights, he should be dead. It was only the faint, lingering medicinal power stored deep within his bone marrow—the remnants of the countless pills he had consumed like candy over the months—that was keeping his heart beating.

Had he not been so extravagant with his resources in the past, his soul would already be crossing the Yellow Springs.