WebNovel Chapter 920: The Death of Tang Er
Chapter 920: The Death of Tang Er
"Audience friends! Today will be our ultimate showdown!""Welcome, the number one ranked 'One-Finger Killer Star' and the number two ranked 'Jade-Faced Ghost Hand' to the stage!"
*Creak—!*
With the host's announcement, the opposing gates on either side of the colosseum slowly opened upwards.
Li Qingran's cool, aloof figure moved from the shadows into the light. The eyes of that silver-white mask were like two points of frigid starlight, causing those around who met its gaze to instinctively feel a chill of fear.
She walked gracefully to the center of the colosseum, looking at the black-robed figure approaching calmly from the opposite side.
Chen Huaian silently observed Tang Er.
In just a few short days, this genius of the Canglan World had changed quite a bit.
This change wasn't in his appearance or physique, but in the aura he carried.
He still remembered their first meeting; back then, he was a spirited, high-spirited youth, full of vibrant vitality.
Now, the person before him was shrouded in an aura of death, like a malevolent ghost that had just crawled out of hell.
The eyes hidden behind the blood-colored mask were filled with murderous intent and malice, the hatred within them taking on a tangible, wavering blood-red glow.
At the same time, Chen Huaian also sensed the aura of that mysterious black-robed man from a few days ago on Tang Er.
"So that's it," he murmured to himself. "It seems that black-robed man sought out Tang Er as well... Judging by Tang Er's appearance, he must have completed a transaction with the black-robed man. I just don't know what Tang Er gained from it..."
"Master, this person's aura feels a bit strange."
Li Qingran had also noticed Tang Er's difference.
The black-clad man standing opposite her now was clearly distinct from any opponent she had encountered before.
It was hard to pinpoint exactly what was wrong.
It was like a white swan appearing among a flock of ducks. Even though they looked somewhat similar, it still stood out head and shoulders above the rest.
"Be careful," Chen Huaian warned in a low voice. "His power level is no longer that of an ordinary Legendary Battle Master. Don't treat him like the opponents you've faced before."
"I understand, Husband." Li Qingran nodded imperceptibly and clenched her fist.
The two stood facing each other in the center of the colosseum.
The air seemed to freeze.
The shouts of tens of thousands of people eerily vanished at this moment. The gazes of everyone present were locked tightly on the two figures at the center of the arena.
On one side was the One-Finger Killer Star, dressed in snow-white robes, with an elegant and graceful figure.
On the other was the Jade-Faced Ghost Hand, whose aura of blood was overwhelming, as if an Asura had descended to the mortal world.
Oh no... today's Jade-Faced Ghost Hand should perhaps be called the Blood-Faced Ghost Hand.
"Kill!"
Without any superfluous words, as his World Ring lit up, Tang Er let out a beast-like roar.
The ground beneath his feet instantly shattered, and his entire body transformed into a streak of dark red light as he shot forward explosively.
The Mount Sumeru Rod Battle Soul in his hand swelled violently in the wind. The black rod was entwined with a murderous aura that made one's heart palpitate.
As this rod swung down, it seemed as if even the surrounding space was wailing, forcibly compressed into a vacuum zone.
"Jade-Faced Ghost Hand opens with a killing move!" the host, Brother Roast Goose, shouted excitedly. "Could it be that the One-Finger Killer Star will be smashed into paste by this single blow?"
"That would be such a pity! We still don't even know what the One-Finger Killer Star looks like! I hope Jade-Faced Ghost Hand won't be so ruthless as to destroy the flower... at least... take off that silver-white mask and let us have a look~"
The audience's shouts merged into one, like a tidal wave.
Yet Li Qingran merely watched calmly as that mountain-crushing blow descended, her expression cool and indifferent.
At the very moment the rod was about to land.
A black World Ring lit up beneath her. With a gentle turn of her wrist, her Su Xian Sword traced out a clear, cold Sword Flourish.
"Sword Form Five, One Sword Guards the Pass."
As her vermilion lips parted slightly, a vast and majestic Sword Intent erupted from the ground.
It wasn't a sharp, peerless Sword Qi, but a silver-white Sword Curtain as heavy and solid as a mountain, standing imposingly between the two of them.
*BOOM—!!*
The black giant rod smashed viciously against that seemingly thin Sword Curtain.
Power sufficient to shatter mountains poured down. The surrounding floor tiles were shattered and sent flying by the shockwave, the ground sinking inch by inch.
Yet the black rod could not advance a single inch beyond three feet from Li Qingran.
That Sword Curtain was like an impregnable fortress. No matter how many thousands of troops and horses charged against it, it remained steadfast and unmoving.
The murderous intent in Tang Er's eyes grew even stronger. Unwilling to accept this, he frantically swung the giant rod, each blow heavier than the last, each strike carrying the stacking force of the Magic Cloak Staff Technique.
After eighty-one blows!
*BOOM—!*
One final rod descended, as if heaven was collapsing and earth splitting.
The colosseum's Protective Barrier trembled violently before exploding with a loud *bang*.
The spectators sitting in the front rows had no time to react before being torn to shreds by the violent shockwave.
Chaos erupted in the spectator stands.
Yet the splattered blood and torn flesh didn't frighten these spectators. Instead, it drove them to even greater frenzy.
They were no longer satisfied with just cheering and waving flags. They even began tearing at their own bodies, attacking each other like frenzied beasts.
Blood Fiend Energy rose above the spectator stands.
And, guided by some force, it began converging towards the center of the colosseum.
In the luxurious box at the very top of the spectator stands, the black-robed figure looked down upon the entire colosseum, a satisfied smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
At the center of the battle.
Tang Er panted heavily, his red eyes fixed on Li Qingran not far away.
No matter how violently he attacked, that figure in white remained untouched by dust.
Blow after blow landed, yet the silver-white Sword Curtain remained unmoved. Instead, the skin on his palms split open, blood dripping down his wrists in steady streams.
Why?
How?
Tang Er felt a moment of dizziness.
He couldn't understand.
Why did such a monstrous existence exist in this world?
Li Qingran looked at the man before her who seemed to have gone mad, and sighed softly. Her voice echoed in Tang Er's mind: "If this is all you have, then this battle should end."
As her words fell, the Su Xian Sword in her hand shifted, and her Sword Stance changed abruptly.
"Sword Form Seven, Ode to Gallantry."
Ten steps to kill one man, a thousand miles leaving no trace!
Li Qingran's figure seemed to become ethereal at this moment. She was no longer standing in place but had transformed into a sky full of sword shadows.
Each sword shadow seemed to be chanting, each strand of Sword Qi carrying a wild, intoxicating abandon.
Tang Er only felt his vision blur, and the lethal sword tip was already pressing against his throat.
The chill of death instantly extinguished the burning heat on his body surface.
Can't block it!
Whether it was the Magic Cloak Staff Technique or his own World Bones, before these poetic and picturesque sword moves, they were as fragile as a sheet of thin paper.
"No... I can't lose! I absolutely cannot fall here!!"
Tang Er's pupils suddenly contracted. The fear deep in his heart was replaced by a kind of extreme madness.
He abruptly threw his head back. The blood-colored mask on his face seemed to come alive,
beginning to frantically suck his blood and the Blood Fiend Energy above the colosseum, emitting a teeth-grating *gurgle-squelch* sound.
Seeing this scene.
The smile on the black-robed man's face gradually widened.
"Come! Accept the gift of divine power!"
"Offer everything—your blood, your flesh, your soul... all to our God!"
Amid his sinister laughter.
An aura as if from the deepest depths of the Nine Nether Hell erupted from within Tang Er's body.
"Offer everything... to you!!"
He muttered, his body visibly withering at a rapid pace. In exchange, the mask bloomed with a sinister red light.
*Hum—*
It was as if all color had drained from the world, leaving only a dead, silent gray and red.
It was the embryonic form of a Domain.
It was the forbidden power that only demigods were said to be able to touch—a Domain!
Within this Domain, all things withered, and vitality was severed.
The sky full of sword shadows, upon coming into contact with this aura, also began to slow and grow dim.
Tang Er grinned, revealing a cold smile, as if he could already see Li Qingran withering and dying within the Domain.
"Die... all of you, die..."
However.
Before his smile could spread to the corners of his eyes.
A light ignited.
It was a brilliance of cyan sword light, dazzling to the extreme, as if it could pierce through the eternal long night.
Within this suffocating Domain of the God of Death, this sword light was like the first ray of dawn breaking through the darkness—unreasonable, indisputable.
*Crack.*
A crisp shattering sound abruptly rang out.
The gray-red Domain that had just begun to unfold was like a mirror struck by a heavy hammer, instantly covered in a spiderweb of cracks.
The world in Tang Er's eyes shattered.
He didn't even manage to see how Li Qingran had drawn her sword.
He only saw, amidst the sky full of gray fragments, a figure in white robes, graceful as a startled swan, pass by his body.
Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
The wind stopped, the clamor dissipated.
Li Qingran stood with her back to Tang Er, the Su Xian Sword in her hand pointing diagonally at the ground.
Beneath her feet, the tenth World Ring had lit up at some unknown time.
"The Dao begets the One, the One begets the Two, the Two begets the Three... and the Three begets all things!" she chanted softly. "First of the secret scrolls—The Dao Begets the One Sword!"
A drop of crimson blood slowly slid down the sword tip, dripping into the dust and blooming into a poignant, beautiful blood flower.
And behind her.
Tang Er remained frozen in that ferocious, roaring posture, still holding the Great Mount Sumeru Rod high, rigidly standing in place.
A red line as fine as a hair quietly appeared on his neck.
"How... could... this... be..."
The red light in Tang Er's eyes began to rapidly fade. The frenzied killing intent that had been sustaining him receded like a tide.
The rod Battle Soul in his hand could no longer be held. With a loud *clang*, it fell to the ground.
His knees went weak, and he heavily knelt in the dust.
His vision began to blur.
In the final moments of his life, he struggled to lift his head, wanting to look at the blood-colored sky.
In his dazed state, the oppressive dark clouds seemed to part slightly.
He saw that familiar smiling face.
That little rabbit who always followed behind him, calling him 'big brother,' was standing gracefully atop the clouds, holding a carrot trinket in her hand, waving at him.
He saw that tall, yet seemingly defeated figure again.
His father was using those rough, large hands to pat his head. The gaze in his eyes was no longer stern but filled with deep affection.
Two clear streams of tears, mixed with the blood seeping from beneath the mask, traced down Tang Er's face, which had long since become unrecognizable.
So...
Was it what he had discarded along the way that was actually the most precious?
He had cast aside warmth, sacrificed his humanity, and become this thing that was neither human nor ghost...
"Dad... Little Rabbit..."
Tang Er's lips moved, emitting an almost inaudible sigh:
"In the end... I still... couldn't do it... could I..."
*Crack—!*
The blood-colored mask that had been tightly clamped onto his face finally could no longer withstand the lingering Sword Intent from that sword.
It split from the center of the brow, turning into two broken pieces that slid from his face.
What was revealed beneath the mask was a pale, youthful face, yet one etched with relief.
His head hung down limply.
A Peerless Talent of a generation had fallen here.