Wang Luoyan was sent flying.
The stone wall stained by magma instantly split under the bombardnt of the giant light ball, dust flew, and rock chips scattered.
The rumble was incessant, and rocks from above fell in response.
Large swathes of magma flowed in from another side, filling the broken area. However, in an instant, the fissure was blocked by huge boulders, and the magma could no longer surge in.
The two sides were separated into different spaces.
Yelü Miaomiao dodged the splashing magma and landed nimbly on a protruding rock.
The young girl stared anxiously at the blocked crack in the wall.
After a long while, not hearing any movent from the other side, the girl let out a slight breath of relief.
The Asura Queen knelt on the ground, her soul’s remnant flickered unsteadily, becoming severely epheral. anwhile, Ran Qingchen’s consciousness began to take initiative, struggling for control of her own body.
"This is really frustrating."
The Asura Queen sighed helplessly.
After this battle, her soul was even more damaged; completely refining Ran Qingchen’s soul would be particularly difficult, and it would take ti to slowly nourish her own fragnted soul.
She looked up at Yelü Miaomiao and said faintly, "Little girl, Wang Luoyan is probably not dead yet, be careful."
After speaking, the Asura Queen’s soul vanished.
Regaining control of her body, Ran Qingchen gasped heavily, the black and red streaks in her eyes had not faded much, making her appearance even more somber.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Yelü Miaomiao stared at Ran Qingchen with a guarded expression.
As her consciousness slowly returned, Ran Qingchen’s mind gradually beca clearer.
She looked around, and when she saw Shang Zhiyu curled up in the corner, her expression paused, she beca montarily vacant, then staggered to her feet and walked over.
Ran Qingchen picked up the sword from the ground, looking at the woman.
At that mont, Shang Zhiyu was convulsing, almost unrecognizable.
Half of her body was burned by the splashed magma, flesh blurred, her demon tail severed, and skin rotting piece by piece.
The woman, in agony, kept emitting low moans.
Having lost her Demon Core was akin to having her soul extracted.
All that awaited her was death.
Perhaps sensing the familiar presence, Shang Zhiyu slightly opened her cloudy yellow eyes.
Looking at Ran Qingchen who was back to normal, she tried to twitch her lips but instead clenched her teeth in pain, letting out a muffled groan as tears and snot ca flowing.
After a long while, Shang Zhiyu spoke weakly, "Is this karma for the teacher?"
Ran Qingchen was speechlessly staring, tears silently falling.
"Well, it’s good... to end this way... pretty good..." Shang Zhiyu managed to squeeze out a faint smile, "Qingchen... grant your teacher a swift end... "
Ran Qingchen gripped the long sword but did not lift it.
"Please Qingchen... for your teacher... a swift end."
Magma continued to seep in, and due to her demonic nature, even if Shang Zhiyu wanted to die, she would have to endure a lot of tornt.
She pleaded with her disciple.
She knew she could not live, but she did not want to die after such torture.
Ran Qingchen bit her lip hard, drawing blood.
The person before her was her master, her dearest and most beloved master. How could she possibly strike.
"Qingchen—"
Shang Zhiyu let out a hoarse, screeching plea filled with pain.
Ran Qingchen’s arms trembled uncontrollably.
Yelü Miaomiao looked at this scene and said to Ran Qingchen, "Shall I help you?"
Just as she was about to step forward, Ran Qingchen suddenly lifted her sword and pointed it at her: "Don’t co any closer!" The girl’s face was streaming with tears.
Yelü Miaomiao pursed her lips and stood still.
Ran Qingchen closed her eyes in agony.
Her emotions and thoughts were like rain in the sky, blown about by the wind, scattering chaotically all around, slicing her mories into sharp, shattered fragnts.
The girl’s hem was clenched by a bloody hand.
Ran Qingchen swayed.
The imnse pain caused Shang Zhiyu’s face to beco twisted, and the voice squeezed out of his throat was full of intense guilt and begging: "Qingchen, I’m begging you..."
Whoosh!
The sword light flashed by.
A head rolled onto the ground, its eyes staring straight at the stone wall.
Shang Zhiyu was dead.
Killed by his own disciple.
Killed by the sword of the woman he hated the most.
Life has its fixed patterns, cause and effect are true. Whatever one does, there will be repercussions; fate is determined in the unseen.
Splat!
The blood-stained sword slowly fell from her grip to the ground.
Ran Qingchen collapsed to her knees powerlessly.
Her expression was dazed and vacant, her heart felt as if it was being gnawed by countless insects, swelling with such piercing agony that it seed as if her chest might also split open, yet it kept beating intermittently.
The girl’s lips trembled, as she tried to hold back the tears that were about to spill from her eyes, but ultimately they fell like broken strings.
She had killed her own master.
She had killed her own family.
Ran Qingchen bent over, sobbing without a voice, and then broke into loud cries, vomiting from the intense grief.
In that mont, she seed as if she was about to vomit out her soul.
Looking at the helpless Ran Qingchen, who was like a little girl, Yelü Miaomiao’s eyes were filled with sympathy and pity; she couldn’t help but step forward and gently embrace the other’s shoulders, offering silent comfort.
Overco with grief, Ran Qingchen suddenly spit out a mouthful of blood and fell backward.
Yelü Miaomiao was startled, but breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that the other had just fainted.
"Sigh, I said to let do it, but you insisted on doing it yourself."
Yelü Miaomiao shook her head helplessly, glanced at the pile of rocks against the stone wall, picked up Ran Qingchen, and casually picked up the unused red spider lily, walking in another direction.
The young girl muttered quietly as she walked:
"What is this now? It’s carrying this one, and that one, I’ve beco a servant. You two might as well have sworn brotherhood, and just let carry you both."
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