Flesh and blood were pierced through, then violently torn apart by two conflicting spiritual energies. Flame and frost erupted at Zhang Cuizhan’s left shoulder. Jagged bone fragments jutted out—a sight too grisly to behold.

  Taking this hit, Zhang Cuizhan merely staggered back two steps. His body swayed, but he eventually regained his footing. He looked down at his dangling, completely ruined arm and roared in fury:

  "In a duel, you dare not show your face, only knowing how to hide among insects! In victory, you dare not be open and upright, only knowing how to sneak-attack a man’s weaknesses! Now you’ve even gouged out the eyeballs of your own corpse-puppet to mount on your face! How is such conduct any different from a grave-robbing corpse-thief!"

  "You... you are disgusting to the extreme! And so cowardly!" Zhang Cuizhan cursed while coughing up blood. "What kind of thing are you! You think you’re worthy of cultivation!"

  He stood dazed for a moment before asking hoarsely, "How... how did you transplant that Void-Gazing Eye? Was it the Flesh and Blood Nest-Vestment?"

  As the insect cloud dispersed, Chen Gensheng’s Shock-Wyrm Fire-Fish Flag hovered by his side, looking quite satisfied.

  "I am an orthodox cultivator; why would I use such evil methods? Naturally, it was gouged out raw. As for the sneak attack, it’s because of your advanced age and clouded mind. If I had taken your life the moment we met, wouldn't I be seen as a bully who oppresses the old and weak?"

  "Sharp-tongued brat!"

  Zhang Cuizhan bit the tip of his tongue hard, forcing down his churning blood with the sudden pain. He glanced at his ruined left arm, which was seeping black mist and cold qi. His right hand gripped the joint of the mangled limb and, with a violent twist, he snapped it off.

  Standing one-armed, Zhang Cuizhan tilted his head back and let out a great roar. The two external spectral souls within him seemed to receive a command; they no longer clashed with his primary soul but instead turned and charged fiercely toward his Dantian’s Sea of Qi.

  He intended to perish together, using himself as a furnace to ignite the three souls and his lifelong cultivation in an instant!

  In Chen Gensheng’s new right eye, he clearly saw Zhang Cuizhan’s Dantian expanding at a terrifying speed. Countless jumbled spiritual energies surged uncontrollably from his acupoints, and behind him, two blurry, massive phantoms—one green and one black—faintly gathered. The rocks of the ridge plateau cracked inch by inch, unable to withstand the pressure.

  "Come then!" Zhang Cuizhan opened his remaining right arm, issuing a final invitation to Chen Gensheng. "Don't you love to watch? I’ll let you watch your fill!"

  The expression on his face was one of liberation, resentment, and a desperate, all-or-nothing gamble. He bet that Chen Gensheng would not dare to take the thunderous blow of his self-destruction head-on! If Chen Gensheng retreated, he might still have a sliver of a chance.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Yet Chen Gensheng actually took two steps forward with interest, then two steps back. That right eye remained fixed on Zhang Cuizhan, staring straight at the core that was about to spiral out of control. There was a hint of appreciation in his gaze, his manner as casual as someone teasing a dog.

  Zhang Cuizhan’s heart skipped a beat for no reason. Could it be that his thoughts and methods were all laid bare?

  "Simin, he truly underestimated your eyeball."

  Hearing this, Zhang Cuizhan’s expression turned into utter shock. The opponent's Void-Gazing Eye saw everything clearly. Beneath that mangled shell, three twisted spheres of light were engaged in a silent but tragic struggle. The soul belonging to Zhang Cuizhan himself was fighting desperately to ignite the Sea of Qi to take everything down with him. But those two unlucky ghosts—the green and black souls—were using their last strength to hold him back. Having been forced into this body and filled with towering resentment, they were unwilling to perish alongside this madman.

  Chen Gensheng sighed. "Seeing you struggle so hard, I’ll give you another hand."

  The Shock-Wyrm Fire-Fish Flag hovering by his side hummed once more. This time, the flag's tip pointed not at a weak point of the limbs, but at Zhang Cuizhan’s bulging Dantian.

  Zhang Cuizhan’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets! He watched helplessly as the full power of a high-grade artifact slammed squarely into his lower abdomen.

  Amidst a deafening roar, Zhang Cuizhan was plowed across the ridge, leaving a deep furrow over ten yards long. A transparent, bowl-sized hole appeared where his Dantian had been. Through that hole, one could even see the desolate grey sky behind him. The edges of the wound were half-charred and carbonized, half-covered in bone-white ice crystals.

  Yet, he still didn't explode. The external strike had actually scattered much of the violent spiritual energy.

  Zhang Cuizhan was now like a hollowed-out piece of rotten wood, slumped at the end of the furrow, his chest heaving violently. He wasn't dead, but for some reason, his eyes no longer had pupils. He even used his only remaining arm to tremblingly prop himself up, trying to stand again.

  One attempt—failed. Two attempts—he fell back. On the third, he dug his elbow into the ground and finally managed to half-kneel. His face was beyond recognition, with only two hollow sockets still staring with unextinguished resentment. His once jade-like skin was now matted with shredded meat and dust, making his original features indistinguishable.

  The wind swept over Thunder-Echo Ridge, its moaning sound like weeping and wailing, scurrying through the cliffs. Chen Gensheng remained standing still, showing no intention of stepping forward. In his Void-Gazing Eye, the spiritual light belonging to Zhang Cuizhan had dimmed to the extreme, yet he continued to wait.

  "You... don't seem human... truly don't seem human..." Zhang Cuizhan propped himself up with his only usable elbow, tilting his head up with immense difficulty to face Chen Gensheng.

  Alas.

  Another hour passed, and Chen Gensheng still hadn't moved closer. The sound of breathing at the end of the furrow grew faint. Zhang Cuizhan began to mutter to himself.

  "Son... I plotted for years in this Star-Fall Gorge, yet... I still couldn't find that Dao-Body to house you..."

  Chen Gensheng wore a smile, his caution not wavering in the slightest. The sight of Zhang Cuizhan’s spiritual energy decaying bit by bit and his soul dissipating was all captured by the Void-Gazing Eye without omission. To witness how a Middle-stage Foundation cultivator’s soul detaches from the flesh step-by-step at the moment of death—such a sight and realization could not be bought for a thousand gold pieces. It should be observed carefully.

  "This man, Chen Gensheng..." Zhang Cuizhan’s breathing slowed, turning into a murmur of bone-deep hatred. "Acting with such cunning, so vicious and treacherous, even more poisonous than the demons of the abyss..."

  He lay prostrate on the ground, forehead against the cold rock, his voice growing smaller and weaker.

  "I didn't find the Flesh and Blood Nest-Vestment, nor could I get that Ethereal Dao-Body... I am incompetent..."

  "Your lifespan..." At this point, his voice was filled with unmistakable terror, urgent yet firm. "Is it... has it already..."

  "Son, where are you..."