Chapter 1090: Sacrificial Dance

"That is..." Zhao Yi watched Chen Ling gently twirl the paper umbrella, as hazy white lights flew out from it, landing on the distant corpses. Confusion filled his eyes.

"Those are the souls taken by the Calamity of Mirth," Han Meng said, his gaze fixed on the stumbling Chen Ling. "He brought everyone's souls back."

"He actually did it? He took everything back from the Calamity of Mirth??" Zhao Yi's face was filled with surprise.

Han Meng was silent for a moment, his voice slightly bitter. "But even if he retrieved the souls, it changes nothing... The dead cannot be brought back to life. Even if the souls are recovered, those who have passed are still gone..."

Zhao Yi paused, looking at the bodies of the Envoys and Twilight Society members scattered on the ground. He opened his mouth, but ultimately fell silent.

"No." A hoarse voice suddenly echoed in the ethereal wind.

Everyone was slightly startled, turning their gaze forward. There, a magnificent and intricate Nuo opera robe swayed silently among the ruins of the realm. No one could discern Chen Ling's expression beneath the Nuo mask, nor could they see the mysterious cursed pattern slowly emerging beneath the robe, a mark that would forever imprison him within himself, forever accompany him with despair, and forever remind him of loneliness. Chen Ling lowered his head, looking at the curse, his eyes filled with complexity... This was the "price" he had paid.

Although Chen Ling had established a connection with the Land of Divine Sacrifice, he couldn't unleash its power on the previous stage. Now that he had returned to the real world, he could clearly feel the power of Nuo merging with him through the Land of Divine Sacrifice.

"Today, no one will die..." Chen Ling's voice echoed in the wailing wind, calm yet resolute.

Boom boom—boom boom—boom boom... Zhao Yi paused, then suddenly turned to the others. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The drums..." Zhao Yi looked around. "Drums coming from somewhere... They're muffled, but... there's an indescribable sense of power to them."

"Drums?" Han Meng frowned slightly, tilting his head to listen. Faintly, he could indeed hear the rhythmic beating of drums, echoing from an unreachable void.

Sun Bumian looked at Chen Ling, who stood not far away in the opera robe and Nuo mask. As if realizing something, a flicker of light appeared in his eyes. "It's Nuo... I can't believe Red Heart has mastered the power of Nuo?"

"What is Nuo?"

"When people face hardship, Nuo appears; when the Nuo dance begins, a hundred disasters vanish..." Sun Bumian pointed to Chen Ling in the distance. "When the Nuo mask is removed, one is human. When the mask is worn, one becomes a 'god'... He is no longer merely human; he is a 'god' who eliminates calamities for humanity."

The others seemed not to grasp Sun Bumian's meaning and all looked at Chen Ling. With a gentle flick of his left hand, a small bell materialized in his palm.

The red and black sleeves of his opera robe swayed in the wind. The next moment, a crisp jingle, accompanied by a flash of lightning across the sky, echoed over the desolate Boundless Realm!

*Ding-dong—*

Chen Ling moved. The instant a pale lightning bolt streaked across the sky, Chen Ling's opera robe seemed to transform into black butterflies, dancing through the ruins. Even the seventh-tier Han Meng couldn't clearly perceive his movements for a moment. Simultaneously, an ineffable aura began to spread between heaven and earth.

A clear golden bell and deep, muffled drums. Keeping pace with their rhythm and melody, Chen Ling seemed to transcend the mortal world. His red and black opera robe rose and fell, his steps flowed gracefully, his sleeves brushing lightly, as if an ancient sacrificial deity had descended upon the world. With every step he took, life was reborn from deathly silence.

The Dance of Sacrifice.

Chen Ling, holding the bell in his left hand and the umbrella in his right, shimmered lightly to appear before the multitude of corpses. The terrifying Nuo mask, amidst the wailing wind, exuded a chilling and piercing aura. His eyes behind the mask swept over the bodies on the ground. As he gently rang the bell, the souls that had been floating everywhere returned to their respective bodies. Within the shattered forms, a spark of life re-emerged...

Ning Ruyu, the Butcher, Tian Huai, the Farmer, the Scholar, Jin Fugui, Chu Muyun, Plum 8, Heart 9... The hearts of the broken bodies began to beat, the dormant blood vessels regained vitality, and as the red and black opera robe rose and fell, a power named "miracle" spread.

When Shen Nan first awakened the power of Nuo during the earthquake, he snatched dozens of lives from Death's grasp. Chen Ling's theatrical and shamanistic abilities far surpassed ordinary people's, and the intertwined power of Nuo he wielded was unprecedented, capable of true miracles. Chen Ling had already paid the price, and in exchange... Just as he had said, today, no one would die.

Suddenly, Chen Ling seemed to sense something. The terrifying Nuo mask turned towards a certain direction... There, tens of thousands of people's screams and shouts echoed in another space, as the bridge collapsed, and fear and despair spread wildly.

The wailing wind brushed against the hem of his opera robe. After a brief silence, he waved his hand, causing the large red paper umbrella in his palm to vanish. With his right hand, he gently pushed upwards towards that direction from a distance... *Boom—*

With a muffled thud, the continually collapsing bridge suddenly hovered steadily in the void. The citizens, who had been in a state of weightlessness, stumbled and fell to the ground, then looked around in confusion... They didn't know what had happened, but the bridge's collapse seemed to have abruptly stopped.

"Run!!" Seeing this, the people of the Heavenly Astrolabe immediately shouted. Only then did the citizens snap out of their daze, scrambling up from the tilted bridge and running with all their might towards the other side, their faces still etched with the joy of surviving a catastrophe!

"The bridge is fixed?!"

"Who fixed the bridge? Did the Tower of Heaven make a move, or was it those young people?"

"Who cares! The most important thing is to escape while we have the chance!!"

"Damn the Calamity of Mirth, it almost killed us all here... All the calamities in the world deserve to die!!"

"Didn't they say that Chen Ling, Red Heart 6, was the Calamity of Mirth?"

"They all deserve to die!! They are all enemies of humanity!!"

The clamorous voices pierced through the void and reached the ears behind the terrifying Nuo mask. No expression could be discerned on Chen Ling's face beneath the Nuo mask. He simply danced calmly and solitarily amidst the ruins, one hand upholding the lives of hundreds of thousands, the other igniting the lives of those he cherished most...

The Calamity of Mirth brought ruin, Chen Ling brought salvation;

At that moment, he was like a true "god."

*Ding-dong—* As the last person crossed the "bridge," Chen Ling released the hand that had been holding it aloft. He spun lightly amidst the ruins, and the bell slowly vanished into nothingness. Simultaneously, the ceremonial robe, steeped in red and black, reverted to its original vibrant crimson.

Chen Ling's slender fingers grasped the Nuo mask. With a gentle squeeze, the mask dissolved in red and black flames, leaving only a few ornaments behind. A red earring swayed in the wind, and a pale, serene face was once again exposed to the air.

Chen Ling's weary gaze swept over the numerous bodies that had regained a trace of life before him. His body swayed, and he nearly collapsed on the spot. His efforts and sacrifice had only a handful of witnesses. As the divine power faded from him, the pall of death and pain resurfaced like a tide, completely engulfing him.