HCAW 77

Chapter 77: Perishing in Blood and Flesh

Waves surged and stormwinds howled. On the broken dam, two shadows were locked in fierce combat. Golden claws and iron gauntlets clashed with relentless noise.

The two entangled figures were Si Chen and Yu Ji Guard. In terms of strength, Si Chen was no match for Yu Ji Guard. But her youth made her fierce, and since Yu Ji Guard held back slightly out of blood ties, the two ended up fighting on even ground for a while.

“Little girl, have you figured it out yet? Will you submit to me, or keep standing with these traitors?”

Si Chen spat back instantly, “Scumbag—why would I submit to you? Go dream!”

As expected, Yu Ji Guard’s fury ignited, and he stopped holding back. Si Chen couldn’t evade in time and suffered several deep gashes, blood gushing freely.

Fortunately, a sudden collision broke the floating bridge—a ship rammed through, severing the path and cutting off Yu Ji Guard’s retreat. With the bridge broken, the path to Qingyu Gao Palace was lost. Yu Ji Guard could no longer retreat, and his troops couldn’t reach him.

“Well done!” Si Chen cheered, praising the Lei Ze soldiers.

At that moment, the sailors operated the ship’s counterweight arms—massive levers sweeping across like roaring dragons, striking the floating bridge again and again to drive Yu Ji Guard back. Though he dodged the attacks, they smashed the footing around him. Planks and debris flew like hailstones, scattering wildly.

Just as Yu Ji Guard seemed cornered, a low, deep laugh echoed across the waters. Amid the waves and mist, he calmly walked out, a chilling smile on his face.

“Clever girl. You cut off my retreat—very smart. But it’s no brilliant strategy.”

Sichen’s heart tightened. Yu Ji Guard bared his teeth in a ghastly grin that sent chills down the spine.

“Ever heard of the phrase ‘fighting with your back to the river’? Now I’ve become the Han soldiers of legend—cornered, with nowhere to run¹”The Battle of Gaixia (垓下之戰) – 202 BCE. That means my momentum will only grow stronger, and I’ve blocked off your escape too. All that’s left—for you—is to die here!

As the words fell, he sprang forward like thunder, appearing before Si Chen in a flash. His golden claw lashed out, gleaming like a hook.

Si Chen tried to block, but her wrist was instantly caught. Yu Ji Guard gripped her iron gauntlet and squeezed. Her hand was crushed in four directions, numb and agonizing. In moments, the old man bent the gauntlet inward—its claws now pointed at her. It was ruined.

Thankfully, Si Chen yanked her hand away in time, avoiding injury. But without her weapon, it was like a cripple losing a cane—she could only feint a few times and retreat in embarrassment.

Then Yu Ji Guard suddenly inflated his chest and roared to the heavens!

Channeling power from his core, his voice thundered like a great bell. The roar split clouds and shattered stone—like a massive blade tearing through the ears of all present. It was a sonic skill—those who heard it suffered internal ruptures, blood spurting wildly. Though Fang Jingyu had his ears plugged, he still bled painfully. Si Chen collapsed, bones seemingly broken, unmoving on the ground.

Within that deafening roar, the world itself seemed to tremble and crack. Fang Jingyu thought, “This can’t go on!”

But he found himself unable to move. Looking down, he was soaked in blood—his iron bones had already shattered earlier, and fragments tore his flesh to ribbons.

Looking around, all others had fallen too, crushed by the roar as if a giant millstone pressed down on them. Who could stop Yu Ji Guard now?

Just then—a pearl chain lashed out like a silver serpent, coiling tightly around Yu Ji Guard’s neck! His throat was choked, and the roar ceased abruptly. A girl in red leapt from a nearby boat, pulling the chain tight—it was Xiao Jiao, just recovered from her grave injuries.

“Tight-lipped gourd! What are you staring for? Now’s your chance!”

Xiao Jiao shouted to Fang Jingyu. Seeing her again, he was stunned and overjoyed—he hadn’t expected her to recover so quickly, let alone appear at this critical moment.

He inhaled deeply, forced energy through his battered body, and ignored the pain as he raised the Chengying Sword. The sword swept like a dragon’s tail, like surging waves, striking at Yu Ji Guard with all his strength. Yet even so, he could only leave a few wounds.

Yu Ji Guard roared, his body surging with strength. With one powerful flex, he sent Fang Jingyu flying as if struck by an invisible whip. Then he tore the pearl chain from his neck, seized a young soldier, and ripped him in half from foot to head. A scream of unbearable agony burst from the soldier’s mouth. Blood sprayed like a fountain, soaking Yu Ji Guard head to toe, painting him into a man of blood. But the sight only seemed to exhilarate him—his eyes gleamed with madness, lost in this carnage.

“That beast… he’s a monster!” Fang Jingyu gasped, teeth clenched.

Chu Kuang said weakly, “Anyone who drinks Immortal Elixir… ends up like this. They lose control. Driven mad by blood.”

He had eaten the meat Fang Jingyu gave him, so his wounds were healing—but the pain lingered, and his head throbbed fiercely. He clutched his temples, drenched in cold sweat. Fang Jingyu stepped protectively in front of him.

“Get back to the pleasure boat and rest. Si Chen and I can handle this!”

Chu Kuang scowled and snapped, “Idiot! You should be the one leaving!”

Fang Jingyu shouted back, “And who was half-dead just now, torn open and nearly gone?!”

Chu Kuang retorted, “Heartless bastard! Sleep with me once and now you’re kicking me away?” He yelled so loudly Fang Jingyu flushed red and pale in turns—thankfully, the roar of cannons masked their quarrel from others.

But only moments later, Chu Kuang clutched his head, his pain worsening, face pale as paper. Fang Jingyu said, “Whatever. If you’re unwell, rest behind us. Don’t be a burden up front.” Chu Kuang glared at him but could only pant in pain, unable to argue.

Fang Jingyu turned to face Yu Ji Guard again, sword in hand—just as a figure crashed into him. It was Si Chen.

She slammed into him hard, dazing him. Before he could react, a towering figure lunged forward—Yu Ji Guard. His golden claw pierced through Si Chen, through her back and into Fang Jingyu’s chest. Blood sprayed violently.

Fang Jingyu stared, stunned. If Yu Ji Guard had attacked him directly, he might’ve sensed it—but using another person to strike had caught him completely off guard. Yu Ji Guard had actually used his own daughter as a weapon!

Fang Jingyu fell back, tearing himself free from the claw, but his chest was bleeding profusely. Si Chen fared even worse—a bloody hole pierced her chest. Blood poured out, but thanks to her strong constitution, she didn’t die immediately. Still, she was too gravely wounded to rise again.

The Lei Ze soldiers cried out in anguish:

“Si Chen!” “Lady Si Chen!”

Many soldiers charged with blades and guns, but Yu Ji Guard moved like a demon. His figure vanished and reappeared in their midst, sweeping his hand—cutting their blades, shields, and guns in half. Bullets sprayed from flame muskets, but he pinched them from the air like flies—impervious to weapons.

He seized two soldiers with one hand each, crushed their heads together with a clap—skulls burst, and red, yellow, and white fluids sprayed like cracked melons. Yu Ji Guard laughed madly, treating it all as sport. Whether catching or stomping, he felled a swath of attackers in moments. The soldiers were terrified—Yu Ji Guard was like a demon from hell, leaving death wherever he walked.

“Run—run!”

Someone shouted loudly—no one knew who—and in the blink of an eye, they dropped their weapons and fled in a stampede like the ebbing tide. Yu Ji Guard laughed with abandon, charging through the crowd, stirring up a storm of blood and gore.

Fang Jingyu lay on the ground, his jaw clenched. At this point, he was exhausted in both body and spirit, hanging on by sheer will. Without it, his shattered iron bones wouldn’t have allowed him to even stand. And morale was the same—once it scattered, it was nearly impossible to gather again. He wanted to scream, “Don’t run!”

But what was the point of staying? To be Yu Ji Guard’s target practice? Every soldier here was made of flesh and blood—each life born of parents. Looking around, he saw that the generals had all collapsed, gravely wounded, their breath barely holding. He looked back at Yu Ji Guard—towering, unshakeable like a mountain—and despair stained his heart black as ink. Was Yingzhou doomed never to see clear skies again? Were they all fated to fall here today?

Just then, a clear shout pierced his ears:

“Do not run!”

Someone had spoken the words he hadn’t dared to voice—and when Fang Jingyu turned in disbelief, it was none other than Chu Kuang.

The “King Yama” held great prestige in Yingzhou. His cry alone slowed the stampede. The fleeing troops faltered and stopped where they stood, dumbfounded. Chu Kuang gripped the Chengying Sword and slowly stood, placing himself before the towering form of Yu Ji Guard.

“If you truly cower today, then your descendants will never again see sunshine in Yingzhou! And what’s so bad about dying? The first to fall can go to the Eighteen Hells to heat the oil and sharpen the sword trees²Hell of Sword Trees (劍樹地獄) – Buddhist Concept In Buddhist cosmology, particularly in depictions of Naraka (hell): There is a hell where trees have sword-like leaves or branches, and the damned are forced to climb or walk among them.—wait for me to send this old monster down, and we’ll torment him together in hell!”

“I’ll kill him!” Chu Kuang held his head, face drenched in cold sweat, and smiled faintly. Then he shouted again, “I’ll lead you to kill him—not tomorrow—now!”

Beneath their feet, the floating bridge had been ravaged by Yu Ji Guard, leaving only a narrow plank wide enough for one person. The Lei Ze soldiers stared in shock. They saw that youth step onto the plank, sword in hand, facing Yu Ji Guard head-on. It was clearly a suicidal move—yet he showed no fear.

Blazing flames rose like fluttering banners. Though he stood alone, Chu Kuang had the aura of an entire army.

Yu Ji Guard scoffed. “Just one brat, and you think you can defeat me? In a moment, I’ll rip you open and see what kind of guts you have to dare speak such nonsense!”

Chu Kuang gritted his teeth through the pain. “Old butcher—let’s see if it’s your claws or my sword that’s faster!”

At his words, the two of them launched forward. Claw and sword clashed, and it was as if the heavens shook. Smoke and wind exploded—the narrow water plank became a battlefield of life and death.

Chu Kuang fought with all his might, his sword strikes like furious waves. Beneath the dim sky, his sword light danced like rainbows. He unleashed every skill he had, making Fang Jingyu gape in astonishment. Though Chu Kuang’s strikes lacked brute force, his swordsmanship was dazzling. No one could interfere in this duel—the sea surged with sword energy, waves erupting high into the sky.

Thanks to the meat slices he had eaten, Chu Kuang’s strength surged. Each strike was like a whale swallowing orca. He had no defense—only relentless attack, like a mad wolf sinking its teeth in. Surprisingly, he fought Yu Ji Guard to a standstill.

Yu Ji Guard’s brows flared. He leapt onto a boat and grabbed a massive pole. With his monstrous strength, it became as light as a toy. He swung it furiously—each blow capable of shattering ships—aimed directly at Chu Kuang.

But Chu Kuang gripped the Chengying Sword tightly. His blade moved like falling snow and rain, slicing the pole into dozens of pieces in an instant.

Yu Ji Guard thought, “This brat really has learned his master’s techniques.”

Then he plunged his golden claws into the sea, stirring the water. The ocean itself seemed to churn in his hands, raising a frosty storm to strike at Chu Kuang.

Chu Kuang leapt onto a drifting plank, unafraid of the waves. He roared and cut through them, then thrust his sword—straight into Yu Ji Guard’s chest.

But Yu Ji Guard’s body was too strong. The blade entered half an inch and stuck. He grinned viciously and reached to snap the sword. Just then, Chu Kuang roared, bit down on another piece of meat, and with his strength exploding once again, drove the sword clean through him!

Yu Ji Guard finally felt fear. Since the fight began, Chu Kuang had eaten who knows how many of those meat slices. Each one brought his strength closer to Yu Ji Guard’s own. The meat had effects similar to Immortal Elixir, but more toxic, more potent. At this rate, this mad youth might actually catch up.

Yu Ji Guard realized he wasn’t just afraid of Chu Kuang—but of the silver-masked man who had died years ago. He saw the same terrifying gaze in Chu Kuang’s eyes.

So, when Chu Kuang drew near, Yu Ji Guard suddenly grabbed a nearby Lei Ze soldier as a hostage and threw him in front of him.

“You brat! If you dare strike, you’ll kill your own brother! Try it if you have the guts!”

Chu Kuang’s eyes turned blood-red. He bared his teeth in a grin. “Good. That’s just what your grandpa wants!”

And then Chu Kuang unleashed his sword. The technique was divine—vast as ten thousand leagues of sea, intricate as a mountain spring. Though Yu Ji Guard used the hostage as a shield, the blade danced like butterflies, still slicing him. Blood flowed.

Yu Ji Guard suddenly remembered a move used nine years ago by Langgan Guard in the Fang household—the same sword technique, whose energy could slay even across mountains.

Fang Minsheng, Langgan Guard’s son, had such deep talent. Given time, he might have outshone all others. Now, this Chu Kuang might be a mere ember of that line, yet the brilliance was unmistakable. He might one day become the greatest threat to Xian Mountain Guards.

Panic set in. Yu Ji Guard hurled a barrel of flaming oil from the boat. The barrel shattered—fire covered Chu Kuang’s entire body. As he charged through the flames, he was set ablaze—his body blackened into charcoal.

Yu Ji Guard burst out laughing. How could a mere mortal body fight me? He didn’t die by my claws but by fire! What a joke!

But before his gloating could settle, he saw that charred figure still staggering forward, wreathed in flames, unyielding.

For the first time, Yu Ji Guard’s face went pale.

Being consumed by fire was unimaginable agony—pain that would not end until death. Yet Chu Kuang, face scorched beyond recognition, still would not let go. He lunged, dragging Yu Ji Guard down with him. The fire burned them both—Yu Ji Guard screamed in agony. His golden claws became too hot to hold, and he flung them away.

They wrestled and thrashed like beasts, no longer men. Each time Chu Kuang neared death, he pulled another piece of meat from his pouch and ate it. One after another. The whispers around him grew clearer. The shadows thickened.

At first, he didn’t understand them. But now he did. A familiar voice spoke to him—it was his master’s:

“Kill him! Kill him!”

The world twisted and melted. No boundaries remained. To Chu Kuang, everything turned into molten flame. His master had once said—only by becoming a wild beast, completely unrestrained, could he slay Yu Ji Guard.

And so, in this moment, Chu Kuang held nothing back.

He released the madness sealed in his heart.

The soldiers of Lei Ze Camp, Si Chen, and Fang Jingyu were all wide-eyed in shock. Before them was a scene of unspeakable brutality—two figures locked in a blaze, tearing each other apart, indistinguishable amid the flying blood and flesh.

Yu Ji Guard, engulfed in fire, had blistered skin that tore at the slightest touch. In desperation, he fumbled for his small bottle and gulped another dose of Immortal Elixir. But before it could take effect, Chu Kuang struck again, his sword slashing across Yu Ji Guard’s head and face. The old man lashed out with a punch—Chu Kuang’s body was nearly split in two, his organs scattered. Yet even then, Chu Kuang stuffed another piece of meat into his mouth, jaw clenched like iron, refusing to let go, raining sword strikes down like a tempest. When the Chengying Sword was knocked from his hand, he fought with his bare fists. When his hands broke, he used his teeth. Even disemboweled, he tried to strangle Yu Ji Guard with his own entrails.

Everyone was stunned by the sheer savagery of his struggle. Chu Kuang was like a wild beast—his claws and fangs broken over and over, but never giving up. Fang Jingyu saw him swallow meat slice after meat slice, and it felt like being pierced by a thousand blades. Unable to bear it, he roared:

“Help King Yama!”

The soldiers echoed his cry and surged forward with their weapons. Who could still cling to their life watching Chu Kuang fight like this? The sky burned, black smoke roiled—this already resembled hell. Life and death were blurred. So they charged, with guns, clubs, fire arrows, a chaos of steel and flame. Yu Ji Guard rolled in the fire, howling in agony.

Fang Jingyu scanned the battlefield—and saw the old man’s weakness.

Fire.

Fire, the essence of all things. Even if Xian Mountain Guards had trained their bodies with Immortal Elixir to be like bronze and iron, they still feared fire—especially fire that did not die, that seared until the end.

Without hesitation, Fang Jingyu shouted, “Use fire!”

The soldiers obeyed at once. They hurled barrel after barrel of burning oil at Yu Ji Guard. Hundreds of fire arrows were drawn, aimed, and released. Some lit their wooden shields and charged into the blaze. Rain couldn’t extinguish it, water couldn’t drown it. Yu Ji Guard screamed like a mad beast, scorched beyond bearing.

He struggled with all his might. Many soldiers were broken beneath his fists, limbs flying, but no one retreated. If one died, two more stepped forward. Fang Jingyu grabbed the Vipashiyin Blade and the Chengying Sword. Si Chen, despite her wounds, dragged herself forward with the Jade Bamboo Sprouts and stabbed him to the ground. Xiao Jiao bound his limbs with her pearl chain and from time to time a Jin Pugu arrow shot from afar, piercing him again and again. Yu Ji Guard was surrounded like prey by an army of ants—no escape.

Just then, a thunderous cry rang from afar. Fang Jingyu turned, stunned. A group of laborers had arrived carrying huge chains—usually used to anchor floating boats—thick, strong, heavy. The walking meats hurled them out together, wrapping them around Yu Ji Guard.

“Miss Si Chen!” a laborer shouted. “You want this old mule locked down? We’re here to help!”

Si Chen gave him a grateful look. All around, people pulled from all sides, securing the chains tightly and binding Yu Ji Guard in place. Barrel after barrel of burning oil was poured down. Blades stabbed, arrows pierced. Screams rose like ghosts in the wind.

Yu Ji Guard thrashed, chains groaning as if about to snap. But Fang Jingyu shouted, “Hold tight!” With thousands pulling, even a demon like Yu Ji Guard could do nothing. The old man screamed in fury, thinking: If I can just take one more dose of Immortal Elixir, I’ll slaughter every last one of these maggots!

Fire devoured his flesh like pliers ripping off skin. He fumbled desperately in his robes and found the cinnabar-red bottle. There was still half left. He struggled to raise his hand—and shoved the bottle into his mouth in a blur of motion.

Fang Jingyu saw and stabbed with Chengying, slicing his wrist—but it was too late. Yu Ji Guard crushed the bottle in his mouth, dark liquid spilling down his chin as he swallowed it with glee.

“Too late, too late, Emperor Bai’s brat! In the end, you still can’t stop me!”

The crowd’s faces turned ashen. They felt a terrifying tremor travel through the chains into their palms. Heat surged through Yu Ji Guard’s body. He laughed maniacally, resisting with renewed strength. The chains creaked—they sounded like they might snap.

But just then, a searing pain coursed through his limbs.

Yu Ji Guard suddenly felt limp, his body weak as if hollowed out. He looked down and saw large black patches spreading across his skin—unlike burns, they gleamed with a sinister darkness.

“What… what is this?” he shouted.

Then a shadow approached. Yu Ji Guard looked up—it was Chu Kuang. Most of his wounds had healed, though his face remained pale, like a ghost. He stared down silently.

Chu Kuang smiled.

“My lord, you’ve drunk too much Immortal Elixir. Looks like your body’s reached its limit.”

Only then did Yu Ji Guard realize Chu Kuang’s scheme. All those meat slices he’d eaten during their battle—he’d done it to goad Yu Ji Guard into doing the same.

Yu Ji Guard had taken Immortal Elixir for years—he was already at the brink. Today, in desperation, he had overindulged. Chu Kuang knew the silver-masked man had died this way. He wanted Yu Ji Guard to taste that same death.

“You little bastard! You dared lay such a trap! I’ll rip you apart!”

Chu Kuang looked at him with pity. “I don’t think you’ve got the strength left.”

Yu Ji Guard struggled—but his limbs had failed. His skin sloughed off, revealing bone. The chains were too tight. The Elixir was eating him alive. He roared and cursed, but the net would not release him. Red-eyed, he snarled:

“Lowly boy! You think you’ll survive this? You’ve eaten so many meat slices—stronger than Immortal Elixir, but more toxic too! Who’s to say you won’t die first?!”

Chu Kuang ignored him. “Do you have any last words?”

Yu Ji Guard stared at him—then burst out laughing like a lunatic.

“Heh… little demon… your tomorrow will be my today. And it’ll be a thousand times worse…”

Chu Kuang said calmly, “You overestimate me. I’m me. You’re you. My tomorrow won’t be your today.” Then he put two fingers to his lips and whistled.

“Extinguish the lights!”

Yu Ji Guard looked around in disbelief. Beyond the flames consuming his body, all across Yingzhou, the lanterns of ten thousand boats began to go out—circle by circle, fading. Though Chu Kuang’s voice couldn’t reach that far, as soon as the others saw the lights go out, they followed suit.

In moments, all of Yingzhou was plunged into darkness.

Fang Jingyu recalled what the pirates on the boats had once said. During these dark days, Chu Kuang had gone boat to boat, asking the laborers: when he gave the signal, extinguish the lanterns. Now the sky and sea were shrouded in black. Not even a hand could be seen before one’s face. Only the cold sea wind blew—whimpering and shrill.

“What… what is this?” Yu Ji Guard was lost in confusion. Chu Kuang’s figure faded before his eyes. Barely visible in the gloom, Chu Kuang bowed slightly, smiling.

“My lord, have you ever had nightmares? Back when you tormented me here in Yingzhou, I never slept in peace. Every night was haunted by fear and demons. Now it’s your turn. Before the Elixir finishes devouring you—I want you to know dread.”

The youth’s silhouette melted into the night, like ink into water. A cold wind rose. Rain drizzled endlessly. Everything fell still, as though life itself had fled. Only one sound remained—his dreadful, eerie laughter.

“My lord, rest well. The sky has gone dark.”

Chu Kuang whispered.

“This is your last night in the world of the living—and I am your inescapable nightmare.”

• 1
  ”The Battle of Gaixia (垓下之戰) – 202 BCE
• 2
  Hell of Sword Trees (劍樹地獄) – Buddhist Concept In Buddhist cosmology, particularly in depictions of Naraka (hell): There is a hell where trees have sword-like leaves or branches, and the damned are forced to climb or walk among them.