Puff.
Lin Yang's severed arm regenerated in an instant.
Even the organs that had been pounded into pulp swiftly recovered, returning to their original, intact state.
This was the power of the Demon Body — a monstrous regenerative ability that gave Lin Yang immense margin for error.
Dai Ziming saw everything.
His pupils constricted. His heart thudded violently in his chest.
Limb regeneration — this was not a recovery a human should possess.
Even the legendary Nine-Hearted Begonia martial soul could never achieve such a feat.
There was only one explanation: this boy possessed a soul bone — an extremely high-quality soul bone at that.
Greed blazed in Dai Ziming's eyes.
No matter how many secrets this youth held, he would dig them all out, one by one.
Lin Yang caught his expression and could roughly guess his thoughts.
It didn't matter.
By this point, they were mortal enemies, a fight to the death.
No matter the outcome, the victor took everything — the loser, nothing. It had always been so.
Shaking out his arm, Lin Yang drew his Nichirin Blade from the ground and stood again.
Dai Ziming did not speak further. After their previous exchanges, all trace of contempt had vanished from his eyes.
He had paid the price for underestimating his foe once. He would not make the same mistake again.
Facing this bizarre youth, even as a Soul King, he dared not hold anything back.
It was laughable — that a Soul King had to go all out against a Soul Grandmaster.
But that was the reality now.
They clashed again, more viciously than before.
Lin Yang's sword danced, flame exploding with every stroke, carving ripples of heat through the air.
Clang, clang, clang…
Dai Ziming's tiger claws clashed with the Nichirin Blade, sparks flying.
His speed was terrifying, his movements erratic. He came at Lin Yang from every strange angle he could find.
"Hiss—"
With a sharp inhale, Lin Yang's footwork changed.
His body blurred, splitting into three after-images, lunging at Dai Ziming from three directions at once.
Sun Breathing, Fourth Form — Burning Bones, Summer Sun: Triple Mirage!
"First Soul Skill, White Tiger Body Barrier!"
A white shield flared around Dai Ziming.
"First Soul Skill, Edge of Gold!"
Keen metallic light spun around Lin Yang's blade. Like a hot knife through butter, it sliced straight through the barrier that had seemed impregnable.
Dai Ziming's face paled.
So this sword was a martial soul, not a weapon.
He stamped down and retreated in a blur.
Though his martial soul was the White Tiger, he relied more on speed and soul skills than on toe-to-toe brawling.
Lin Yang took a step forward and his slashes accelerated.
Countless blades of compressed sword qi wove together like a net, too many to track with the naked eye.
Sun Breathing, Fifth Form — Flame Tiger: Raging Train!
In the space of a breath, the golden edge tore the air apart. Dai Ziming's pink robe shredded to rags, and wounds crisscrossed his body in bloody lines.
In the next moment, a blazing orb of light condensed in front of his chest. He thrust out a palm, firing a searing beam of white.
The attack was not meant to kill — it was meant to force distance between them.
"Bloodflesh Thorns!"
The battlefield was splattered with Lin Yang's blood.
With a thought, countless Bloodflesh Thorns erupted from the soil, stacking in layers before him.
Boom!
The blast threw up a cloud of dust.
Vines disintegrated by the dozens under the white light.
But for each one that fell, more sprang up to take its place.
Hidden behind the wall of thorns, Lin Yang suddenly felt a chilling sense of doom.
Within the dust, Dai Ziming's black ring flared. Half his soul power seemed to drain in an instant.
In its place, a massive phantom white tiger towered above, radiating a terrifying aura.
Pale and exhausted, Dai Ziming's androgynous face twisted with a vicious grin.
"Die!"
Fifth Soul Skill, White Tiger Heaven-Piercing Lance!
Lin Yang's presence was locked.
A beam of golden light, condensed to the utmost, shot from the tiger's maw in a single straight line, spearing through Lin Yang's chest.
The burning light seared him from the inside out.
Lin Yang's eyes hardened. He hurled his Nichirin Blade like a javelin, straight at Dai Ziming.
Such a clumsy attack made Dai Ziming burst into wild laughter, his guard dropping.
"Hahaha! Is this the last struggle of an ant?"
As he laughed, Lin Yang's body was swiftly burned to ash. A crystal-clear soul bone clattered to the ground.
Dai Ziming's eyes shone. Taut nerves loosened.
A soul bone lay exposed. That meant the boy was dead beyond question.
He lifted a foot to claim his prize—
A narrow, restrained streak of crimson light flashed past like a blood-red bolt of lightning, slicing cleanly across his neck.
Dai Ziming's body went rigid.
His head and body parted, tumbling to the ground with a thud, throwing up a puff of dust.
In his final vision, he saw Lin Yang.
Or what remained of him.
Half a body, supported by blood-red vines, one hand gripping the Nichirin Blade. Blood-colored eyes stared coldly at him.
"How…?"
Bewilderment was his last thought as darkness took him.
The half-bodied Lin Yang collapsed at last, spent.
He smiled faintly as he looked at Dai Ziming's lifeless corpse.
The victory had been hard-won.
But he had won.
From the start, he had known the gap between himself and a Soul King was too great. A direct fight favored him in no way.
His fearless, reckless onslaught had been a calculated risk — to scatter his blood and flesh across the battlefield.
On one hand, to create openings.
On the other, to let the illusion woven by "Blindfold" better conceal the location of his real body.
When Dai Ziming unleashed his fifth skill, Lin Yang knew his chance had come.
Throwing the Nichirin Blade ensured Dai Ziming would not realize he had survived.
Even leaving the soul bone behind was to mislead him.
Lin Yang had sent the Nichirin Blade — and the Blue Silver Empress — to the chunk of flesh that had been separated from his body.
All so that, at the moment his enemy relaxed, he could deliver a single, fatal strike.
In the end… he was the one still standing.
The price, of course, had been immense.
To deliver that last blow, he had used almost all his soul power to regenerate his maimed body. His reserves were nearly dry.
Fortunately, the Bluesilver Empress had been channeling soul power into him without pause, letting him persevere until the end.
At the same time, the guards in the distance erupted into chaos the moment Dai Ziming died.
Their master was dead. They would not escape blame.
But if they could kill the culprit, perhaps they could offset their crimes.
Lin Yang did not spare them a glance. They were dead men walking.
"Bluesilver…" he paused, then said softly, "Ah Yin… I'll leave them to you."
The Blue Silver Empress burst from his chest, her gold-veined leaves trembling with a kind of fierce excitement.
Bluesilver Domain — unfold!
The ground shuddered.
Countless deep-blue vines burst from the soil like awakening serpents, engulfing all the guards.
Bluesilver Spike Formation!
The vines hardened, their tips sharpening into spears.
They lunged upward in a storm, ripping through the air, each one accurately and mercilessly piercing a guard's chest.
Cries rang out, one after another, filled with despair.
The vines ignored them.
Like the scythes of the Reaper, they were cold, tireless instruments of slaughter.
In a short time, all sound vanished.
Every last trace of defiance and killing intent was nailed into this improvised forest.
A thought from Ah Yin tugged at Lin Yang's mind. He turned his gaze to the still-covered cages. Only there did any life remain.
"The ones in there… let them go."
The domain slowly receded. The vines slipped back into the earth without a sound, leaving only a carpet of lifeless bodies.
The Blue Silver Empress swayed once, then quietly withdrew into Lin Yang's body once more, as if nothing had happened.