Lingyan's hands trembled slightly. She had never killed a member of her own clan, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. However, she didn't know how to end the helpless suffering of the person in front of her.
She stood frozen in place until the sword fell in front of her again, then paused.
Before her, a line of blood appeared between the head and neck, which held a look of despair, and slowly slid down.
"If Your Excellency is unwell, please move aside."
The man who had ruthlessly slain the heavenly soldier appeared before her and spoke to her coldly.
Lingyan vaguely remembered him; he seemed to be a lieutenant general in the Zhenyuan Army, probably assigned to guard Tianmen after the army was disbanded and disbanded.
He didn't seem to have time to catch up with Lingyan before turning back to slaughter the demons and his other controlled comrades.
Lingyan closed her eyes, trying her best to banish the bloody scene from her mind, but to no avail.
This is a battlefield, where no mercy is tolerated.
Lingyan slowly rose and floated in mid-air. All the immortals, gods, and demons could see her, and they also noticed this strange phenomenon.
The demon general stared at her for a moment, then suddenly abandoned the front lines of the battlefield and, fearless of death, tried to cross the Heavenly Gate, heading straight for her with a clear purpose.
The soldiers below sensed that the demon general's unusual actions could turn the tide of the battle.
They rushed forward one after another, risking their lives to block the divine general with their bodies and buy her time.
After a moment of silence, a bead slowly rolled out of the woman's chest as she floated in the air.
Then it suddenly emitted a dazzling and intense light—a pure white light, enough to dispel all darkness.
In the realm of gods, the divine pearl protects the realm, possessing far greater power than they imagined.
That pure and pristine light swept away all the darkness before the Heavenly Gate with lightning speed.
The demonic energy that was spreading rampantly in the realm of gods had no time to recede before it completely dissipated. The demons who had crossed the Heavenly Gate were instantly burst out of their bodies by the white light and merged into the light.
The soldiers controlled by the demonic energy fell to the ground one by one. Fortunately, in order to control their bodies, the demonic energy did not corrupt their divine cores, and the loyal soldiers did not suffer the fate of having their souls and bodies destroyed.
The demon general that rushed towards Lingyan tried its best but failed to stop the cleansing, and was scattered along with itself.
Even the massive teleportation array connecting the realms of gods and demons was forcibly shut down, completely cutting off the demons' means of reinforcement.
The power of this cleansing was so immense that it was obvious it couldn't last too long.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on Lingyan's forehead, and her already pale face became even more ashen, as if all her vitality was about to be exhausted.
A layer of hazy mist gradually covered the white beads, with several black lines flowing freely within them as if they were real.
After the purification was completed, the morale of the divine warriors soared, and they launched a counterattack against the remaining demons left in front of the Heavenly Gate.
Just then, a bright red light shone from the direction of the palace complex, shrouding the blue and white sky in a hazy red, adding a touch of eeriness.
Chapter 159 The Supreme God and the God of War (19)
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A sense of foreboding arose in Lingyan's heart.
The battle at Tianmen has temporarily settled. The demons have been forced back step by step by the immortal soldiers and are being annihilated one by one. There is no greater use for her to stay here any longer.
So, as soon as she landed on the ground, Lingyan forced herself to support her body and stumbled towards that direction.
Lingyan traveled at a much slower pace than before, and gained a clearer understanding of the calamity this catastrophe had brought to the divine realm.
After the demonic energy receded, the ground was littered with debris, and the corpses of immortals and gods were everywhere. Some had wide-open, terrified eyes, dying with their eyes wide open; others had their heads severed, their faces contorted in pain; still others had fought to the death, their bodies covered in blood.
Her mouth and nose felt as if they were covered by an airtight cloth, and she could only breathe heavily to absorb the nutrients needed to stay awake. A feeling of nausea rose from her stomach. Lingyan pressed her waist, forcibly suppressing the discomfort in her heart, and continued forward.
As she passed by the familiar lotus pond, she glanced at it and found that all the once vibrant lotuses had withered, and the crystal-clear pond water had turned dark, as if all life had been taken away.
Just as she was lost in thought, a low, hoarse roar came from behind her.
Ling Yan was startled and quickly dodged away, but a sharp piece of armor still cut her neck.
The attacker who appeared before her was clearly a demonic immortal lord. He was tilting his head and scrutinizing her, his eyes devoid of any spirit, filled only with bloodthirsty malice—he was beyond saving.
Lingyan clenched her fist, letting the pain guide her reason to overcome her reluctance to bear it. She raised her palm and danced a ribbon forward, gently floating it forward.
The white cloth looked so light and powerless, yet it smoothly severed the head of the demonic immortal, like a compassionate ritual.
She continued walking toward the center of the red light, encountering more and more demon-possessed gods. She might have softened her heart once, or even twice, but after three or four times, until finally, she became completely numb.
These hands were stained with the blood of many of her kind; the blood crept into her eyes, staining their pure blackness.
The more she walked this road, the more familiar she became; she had walked it countless times over the past two thousand years—this was the direction leading to the Chaos Palace.
The drumbeat in her heart grew stronger, resounding deafeningly in her chest, urging her to quicken her pace.
Her unsteady steps turned into a run, and she rushed into the hall impatiently.
"Sister Xuanhu!"
She shouted loudly.
There was a deathly silence; there was no response.
Lingyan called out again and again, but still no one answered.
No one came out to greet her with a smile, as they always had.
Some unseen premonition guided her steps toward the inner sanctum she had never been before.
Lifting the hazy gauze curtains, what appeared before her eyes was a spacious inner hall and—a pool of crimson liquid, carrying a faint fishy smell.
On the white jade brick platform, a person lay lying down. The familiar moon-white robe confirmed the panic in Ling Yan's heart.
She rushed over and knelt down in front of the woman who had clearly lost all life.
"Sister Shaojun—"
She bent down and called softly, as if afraid of waking the person who was sleeping soundly.
She carefully touched the person's cheek with her fingers, only to feel a chill.
"elder sister!"
Her frantic cries were punctuated by uncontrollable sobs, yet not a single tear fell from her eyes.
Her gaze fell on Shaojun's chest, where a patch of crimson, which she had deliberately ignored, contrasted sharply with the pool of liquid.
Near the wound pierced by the sharp blade, the blood was half congealed, indicating that not much time had passed since the tragedy occurred.
She suddenly stood up and looked around, as if trying to find the murderer who killed her loved one.
But the result was obviously disappointing; she couldn't find it.
Suddenly, the heavens, which would never shake, trembled violently, as if something was collapsing.
Without time to explore the Chaos Palace in depth, Ling Yan swiftly picked up the young lord's corpse and rushed out of the Chaos Palace as fast as she could.
The moment she left, the Chaos Palace was completely reduced to dust.
Not only the Chaos Palace, but also the surrounding temples and palaces began to collapse and crumble one after another. The clouds and ground beneath their feet fell piece by piece, as if an illusion were shattering. Only the Nine Heavens Palace, standing at the highest point of the heavens, remained shining brightly and unharmed.
"Father..."
After murmuring two words softly, Ling Yan followed her heart and headed towards the Nine Heavens Palace.
Holding the young master in her arms slowed her race against the collapse, but no matter how difficult it was, Lingyan never had the slightest thought of abandoning this body—after all, this was her older sister who had doted on her since childhood.
Several times, she was just one step away from falling into the abyss, but she stubbornly relied on an inexplicable obsession in her heart—the obsession that the answer to everything lay within the Nine Heavens Palace. This obsession, which came from nowhere, made her exert all her strength time and time again to get closer and closer to that magnificent palace.
He rushed into the hall at the fastest speed he had ever been, instantly shutting out the chaos and disorder outside.
The main hall, which had been noisy and chaotic due to the recent court assemblies, has returned to its usual quiet state, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Lingyan looked up, her mind still a little confused from the constant ups and downs, and she couldn't quite figure out what had happened.
The once powerful and authoritative God Emperor sat on his supreme throne, head bowed, eyes fixed on the steps below, his face contorted with fear and dread.
Beside him stood a figure dressed in black, tall and elegant, with fresh blood still flowing from the sword hanging in his hand.
"Gu Zhong?"
Lingyan was somewhat incredulous and tentatively called out in a low voice.
Hearing the faint call, the person on the steps turned around and looked at her indifferently.
It is Gu Zhong—yet it doesn't seem like Gu Zhong.
That face was the familiar one that Ling Yan had been looking forward to countless times today, but the look in her eyes was colder than she had ever seen before.
—Has Gu Zhong gone mad?
Lingyan couldn't help but wonder in her heart.
Yet it was not like that. Although Gu Zhong's eyes were indifferent, he maintained extreme rationality, unlike those immortals and gods who were corrupted by demonic energy, who lost their minds and went on a killing spree.
"Ayan, you're here?"
Across the long steps, Gu Zhong's voice seemed to come from the horizon, and it was not very clear.
Setting down the young lord in her arms, Lingyan climbed the steps one by one, walking towards Gu Zhong until they stood side by side.
What happened here?
She looked around blankly and asked cautiously, as if something would explode if she exerted even the slightest force.
What do you think?
Gu Zhong looked at her, speechless for a long while, before slowly speaking. Her voice was still as if shrouded in mist, muffled and suppressed.
"Sister Shaojun is dead."
Ling Yan tugged at the corners of her mouth, seemingly trying to ease the strange and heavy atmosphere with a faint smile. However, she had just experienced the most painful thing in the world, so how could she possibly smile?
"Um."
Gu Zhong responded with a blank, emotionless sound.
"Father, is he dead too?"
Her gaze flickered almost imperceptibly toward the God Emperor on his throne, then quickly averted, as if by avoiding direct eye contact, she could escape the reality of losing another loved one.
"yes."