HCAW 124

Chapter 124: A Lone Shadow Becomes an Army

Ten years?

That phrase fell into Fang Jingyu’s ears and shook him to his core. He thought, “Ten years… what ten years? Ten years ago… did I even know him then?”

But Chu Kuang was far too weak, his voice as faint as a mosquito’s hum. Fang Jingyu couldn’t be sure he’d heard right. A flicker of Fang Minsheng’s shadow flashed before his eyes, but he shook his head and forced the thought from his mind. The situation was urgent—this was no time to dwell on such things. Chu Kuang’s life was hanging by a thread, and they were still deep within enemy lines. Fang Jingyu thought, “He’s lost too much blood—that must’ve been just delirious murmuring.” Even with countless doubts in his heart, he suppressed them for now.

Just then, the sound of chaos erupted. Fang Jingyu looked up and saw the Xian Mountain officers of Daiyu had already caught up with him. Waves of armored soldiers gleamed with light, packed densely like mountains and walls of iron, forming a dark mass that encircled him. Gu Bi Guard, fully aware that Fang Jingyu would lose his composure at the mention of Chu Kuang, had seized the moment he rushed to the side of the hall to regroup his forces.

“Out of the way!”

Fang Jingyu roared, cradling Chu Kuang in one arm and gripping the Vipashiyin Blade in the other. Now fused with the Great Immortal Yonghe, his strength had increased greatly—wielding the blade with one hand was nothing to him. The blade howled through the air, cleaving forth an inky-black wave like a cliff of water ten thousand fathoms high. A flood of black current surged across the earth, swallowing cavalry and infantry alike.

But the Xian Mountain officers showed no fear. Each nocked an arrow, drew their blades and swords, and aimed straight for Chu Kuang in Fang Jingyu’s arms.

They already knew that Chu Kuang was his weak point.

In his earlier clash with Gu Bi Guard, Fang Jingyu had not feared damage to his body and had energy to spare. But now, holding Chu Kuang, defending on all sides, he quickly found himself outmatched. His heart burned with anxiety, leading to momentary lapses—fresh wounds opened across his body in an instant.

Arrows flew like rain by the side of the hall, the black tide rose high, crashing like a boiling cauldron.

In the midst of flashing blades and blood, Fang Jingyu’s entire body was pierced through by wooden spears and barbed pikes—but he desperately shielded Chu Kuang with his own body. Growling low, he ripped weapons from his flesh and drove them backward, piercing a cavalryman behind him. Then he slammed into a Xian Mountain officer in front, impaling them both on the blade that jutted from his gut.

There was no time to waste. He had to get Chu Kuang to safety. Should he retreat to Yuanqiao? Or press forward to Guixu? Fang Jingyu was caught in a dilemma. Just then, he felt a light tug on the front of his robe. Looking down, he saw Chu Kuang feebly opening and closing his mouth—like a dying fish trying to breathe. He leaned down and heard Chu Kuang whisper, voice like spider silk:

“Your Highness… don’t worry about me… go to Guixu…”

“How could I not worry about you!” Fang Jingyu shouted, voice trembling. “If this keeps up, you’ll… you’ll…”

His voice involuntarily softened, as if afraid that raising it would shatter Chu Kuang’s body. From the moment he’d caught him, Chu Kuang had been like a leaking waterskin—blood pouring endlessly, soaking through his robes over and over. Yet at this moment, Chu Kuang managed a faint smile. He murmured:

“This… is my… fate.”

What fate! Fang Jingyu’s eyes burned. He thought of Zheng Deli’s calm, all-knowing expression, of Chu Kuang’s pained gaze the day they parted. As if they had both already accepted that all was destined—that he, Fang Jingyu, was the one chosen by the Heavens, and they were willing to sacrifice everything to keep him alive.

Suddenly, a massive force slammed into him from ahead.

Fang Jingyu felt as if struck by a giant hammer. His body flew sideways and crashed heavily to the ground. When he looked up again, his whole body trembled—his heart struck as if by lightning.

In the distance, beyond the crowd, emerged a grotesque shadow—huge and formless, like a mound of sludge, with countless thrashing tentacles stretching from within. One tentacle, sharp as a blade, had pierced through Chu Kuang’s chest and abdomen, lifting him into the air.

In that brief moment, Fang Jingyu saw—just before the strike—Chu Kuang had used his last strength to shield him. With such grievous injuries, even breathing had been a miracle. Yet he had still leapt forward, sparing no thought for himself, to protect him one last time.

Chu Kuang now hung in midair on the tentacle, eyes closed, like a lone withered leaf. In that instant, it felt as if Fang Jingyu’s heart was pierced through as well.

“Chu Kuang!” he cried out.

A cold, mocking voice rang from within the mud-like monstrosity. A gash opened on its lumpy, sludge-like body—like a giant mouth. The voice was Gu Bi Guard’s.

“Your Highness, your dear companion is hanging by a thread now. He won’t last long. If you make a single move, I’ll rip out his heart.”

So this was Gu Bi Guard’s true form—long since no longer human. He had lingered in this place for so long, his body had warped beyond recognition. But before his words had even finished, a surge of pitch-black tide rose through the air.

After the wave passed, he realized—his tentat had been severed all at once.

Fang Jingyu had leapt forward and caught the bleeding Chu Kuang in his arms. He shot Gu Bi Guard a glance filled with searing hatred, then seized the bridle of an unclaimed black horse, vaulted into the saddle, kicked its flank—and vanished into the surging tide.

Gu Bi Guard understood that he did not want to become further entangled with him and was determined to hurry toward the c Daiyu’s gate. He chuckled hoarsely and said:

“Your Highness really is a shrinking quail. You only showed off for a moment, and now you want to slip away again? But Daiyu is right in the palm of my hand—no matter how you try to escape, you won’t get out of here.”

Fang Jingyu rode atop the black horse, his heart ablaze. His head was wrapped up, hacking wildly in all directions. In an instant, black waves surged to the sky, shaking the heavens and earth. After who knows how long, he finally carved a bloody path through the dense ranks of enemy soldiers.

Using the tide as cover, he charged out of the palace, rushing toward the gate. Gazing from afar, the city gate loomed like a crouching tiger and coiled dragon, full of imposing grandeur, with snow mountains stretching behind it, resembling a sable cloak lying behind the gate. However, before the gate, soldiers were arrayed like ants, each one’s eyes shining with black light, mouths opening and closing, all speaking with Gu Bi Guard’s voice. Tens of thousands shouted in unison:

“Stop, stop!”

Fang Jingyu paid them no heed. He was like a raging storm—anyone who approached him was sent flying, limbs broken, bodies shattered. Amidst the wild wind and rain of blood, he heard Bi Bao Guard’s voice echoing in his mind: “Your Highness, the gate’s doors to leave the city were sealed long ago by Emperor Bai. To unseal them, you must use blood to undo the blood-bait lock. Without Gu Bi Guard’s blood, it cannot be done.”

“So that means I must have a final battle with him?”

“Exactly.”

Fang Jingyu glanced at Chu Kuang. Chu Kuang’s feathered lashes trembled lightly, his face pale and blue, as if sunk into a deep slumber. Suddenly, Fang Jingyu said, “Xiao Jiao, come out from my body for now and protect Chu Kuang. I’ll fight Gu Bi Guard to the death.” Xiao Jiao’s voice lingered anxiously and irritably in his ear: “No, if you’re fighting something inhuman, you’ll need my power to have any chance of winning. I’ll send Bi Bao Guard to the gate first, and my blood cocoon will protect Laborer Chu. But correspondingly… the divine power I can lend you will be greatly diminished.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Fang Jingyu. At that moment, a few black shadows emerged from his own shadow—monks of Yuanqiao. They raised their tentacles gently, taking Chu Kuang from Fang Jingyu’s arms. Fang Jingyu spun around, spurred his horse, and the Vipashiyin Blade shone bright as snow. His gaze was resolute:

“I already intended to tear him to pieces.”

Just then, thunder rumbled across the sky like mountains grinding together. A colossal shadow, like a ball of mud, came rolling in, so enormous it blotted out the sun and sky, blocking all light. A huge mouth split open on the mud ball, and it giggled: “Don’t leave, Your Highness, stay here a while longer. With Xian Mountain everywhere, what place could compare to the splendor of Daiyu?”

Beneath that mountainous shadow, the youth in black clothes seemed minuscule, like a stick of incense before a great Buddha. But Fang Jingyu showed not the slightest fear and said coldly, “If I stay half an hour longer, you’ll die right here on the spot!”

With these words, Fang Jingyu gripped his blade and charged straight at Gu Bi Guard. Countless tentacles shot out from Gu Bi Guard’s massive body in an instant, surging forth like a raging storm. The cavalry charged like a wave, howling as they swept forward. Fang Jingyu hacked down a swath of tentacles, but they regenerated swiftly, inexhaustible. At this, Fang Jingyu shouted, “Great Immortal, lend me your strength!”

From far away, he heard the sound of the Ming Sea’s waves in his ears. As Gu Bi Guard snapped back to awareness, he saw vast waves rolling in from the sky, like ten thousand flood dragons racing forth. Ming Sea was rising, the waves like the mouths of giant beasts, threatening to swallow the Xian Mountain whole. The soldiers’ feet were soon submerged in a layer of black sludge, and the water slowly rose, quickly covering their ankles.

Fang Jingyu, as nimble as a sea swallow, leapt from horseback toward Gu Bi Guard. The blade flashed like a silver moon, the Vipashiyin Blade roaring as it tore open a gash in the gigantic muddy body, growing wider and wider. Tentacles came at him from all directions, impaling him. Fang Jingyu coughed up blood, but still gritted his teeth and roared, “Xiao Jiao, don’t pity me—give me as much divine power as you can!”

In an instant, divine power surged, like hot wind flooding his body. His veins bulged, his skin sloughed away. Fang Jingyu felt his wounds healing, his vision awash in red, his eyes throbbing like two beating hearts. Yet he could clearly sense his body melting under the intense heat. At this moment, he was truly burning himself away, giving his life only to kill this demon ruling Daiyu.

Gu Bi Guard let out a piercing, tragic howl and, in a flash, was split in two by the blade!

Black water exploded everywhere, drenching everyone like a furious waterfall. Yet when that muddy body collapsed, Fang Jingyu stood frozen in shock. He saw countless eyeballs suddenly bubbling up from the black mud—these were Gu Bi Guard’s eyes, and in the next moment, they all opened wide together. Gu Bi Guard’s voice, as eerie as a vulture, still echoed overhead.

“Is Your Highness seeking my blood? What a pity! I have lingered here for decades, even centuries—long since I ceased to be human. Where would you find human blood? Even if you searched for ten more lifetimes, you would never find my blood, nor unseal the blood-bait lock. You will be trapped in Daiyu forever!”

In an instant, the world spun and twisted—vivid illusions pierced into Fang Jingyu’s mind like a long needle, constantly stirring within his head. He heard Gu Bi Guard’s deep, sinister whisper, thick and dangerous as poisoned honey:

“Your Highness, welcome to my paradise.”