Chapter 1215: Book Embroidery Paves the Way

Wu Mountain Ruins.

Dazzling starlight burst from Chen Ling's body, and under the gaze of everyone, his figure slowly ascended into the sky. The hem of his theatrical robe fluttered in the wind. The moment Chen Ling opened his eyes, stars lit up in the sky above Wu Mountain Town. This starlight seemed impervious to the haze and dark clouds; even with a gloomy sky, the stars remained incredibly brilliant! Chen Ling stood on starlight, his form seemingly connected to the starry sky.

Seeing this scene, the people following behind him were all stunned.

"What's going on?" Sun Buming looked at Chen Ling's ascending figure with suspicion. "How did he turn into stars again?"

"I don't know, he's always been pretty strange," Shen Nan shrugged.

"Tsk, first it's red paper, then it's stars, then it's reshaping... Young people nowadays learn such a mix of things, not pure at all," Sun Buming grumbled. "Expel him from the theatrical guild!"

Shen Nan: ...

Ying Fu didn't seem surprised by Chen Ling's sudden mastery of Lu Xun's abilities. He merely frowned, watching Chen Ling's back, lost in thought.

At the same time, Chen Ling's voice rang out from above: "I'll stabilize the shelters. The task of leading the charge is yours."

Ying Fu snapped back to attention and snorted coldly, "I don't need your reminders about what I should do."

Chen Ling's figure flew higher and higher amidst the starlight. His gaze swept over the town, which had already been engulfed by the Bitter Flesh Mire. His mental energy was constantly depleting, and one by one, stars in the sky began to surge with starlight. Perhaps it was Lu Xun's poetic interpretation of starlight that imbued the "Starlight Sonata" with a "purifying" ability. When the corresponding stars lit up, wherever their starlight reached, all existences symbolizing "evil" would be banished. Chen Ling could vaguely sense that the upper limit of this ability was far beyond this, but at present, he could only unleash this eighth-tier ability to this extent. But for the current situation, it was enough.

Chen Ling channeled his mental energy into the stars above Lu Xun's shelter. The surging starlight circulated, and the disaster roots that had deeply entangled the shelter began to recede, creating a pure land in this gray realm where disaster was wildly proliferating. Although one shelter was temporarily saved, it was far from enough. Chen Ling's gaze fell upon other shelters besieged by disaster. As streaks of starlight illuminated, more and more areas were cleared, and from the depths of the earth, ravaged by disaster, the remnants of shelters emerged.

Lu Xun and his group had indeed fully preserved one Class B shelter, but Wu Mountain Town had dozens of such shelters. Without the protection of Lu Xun and others, the situation in the other shelters was dire. Nearly half of them had already been completely engulfed and collapsed by disaster, and the civilians hidden inside had become nourishment for the Bitter Flesh Mire, leaving behind only a desolate wasteland of dried blood and bones. Even if there were survivors in the remaining shelters, they were less than one in ten. Those survivors who had endured the purgatory had completely broken down. They numbly hid in the relatively sturdy corners of the shelters, staring blankly at the starlight shining above amidst the scattered corpses. Their eyes were dazed and bewildered.

Chen Ling looked down at these numb and pained figures and let out a soft sigh. How many survivors were left in Wu Mountain Town now? Fifty thousand? Thirty thousand? Chen Ling wasn't sure, but it was certain that the number of survivors was far lower than Sun Zhongliang's initial estimation, proving the brutality of this Bitter Flesh Mire invasion. Starlight filled the sky, and Chen Ling's mental energy was being consumed at an insane rate. For him now, sustaining such a large-scale display of starlight was still too strenuous. His gaze turned to the group of figures slicing across the land like a sharp blade, thrusting directly towards the heart of the Bitter Flesh Mire, and he murmured to himself: "They need to be faster..."

"Are we... are we saved?"

In a Class B shelter at the edge of the town, several figures staggered to their feet. They looked at the starlight shining above and the empty ruins around them, a bewildered look flashing in their eyes. The monsters seemed to have left. Although too many people had died here, they seemed to have survived. Among them, one bravely stepped forward first, carefully treading over the dried human remains around him, and slowly crawled towards the surface. After the first example, more and more people began to attempt exploring upwards. After all, no one wanted to stay in a place just attacked by monsters; no one knew when those monsters would return.

"Brother, what's it like up there??" someone shouted upwards.

The first figure to reach the surface gasped for breath and looked up, but the next moment, he froze as if struck by lightning. Strange plants, like skyscrapers, clung to the surrounding architectural ruins like aliens from a disaster movie. At first glance, they resembled a horrifying forest, with fleshy surfaces writhing in the air, as if a gigantic monster was rhythmically breathing.

"Mon... Monsters..." That person was utterly terrified by the sight. He had naively thought the disasters had left. Now it seemed they had completely occupied this place as their lair, lurking, seemingly waiting for the annoying starlight to fade, eyeing the abundant nutrients here.

"What?" The people below seemed not to have heard clearly.

Before he could say anything more, the nearest disaster branch whipped out, like a swift dragon, intending to tear him to shreds!

Just then, the edge of the pulsating, breathing forest exploded with a thunderous roar!

*BOOM*—!!

A long spear wreathed in purple lightning tore a gap directly through the fleshy plants. Ying Fu, clad in a black overcoat, emerged from the swirling dust, his golden eyes, tinged with purple energy, burning like a scorching sun.

"Kill," he said indifferently.

Dense figures surged through the gap. Some flew, some ran, various divine powers constantly emerging from their bodies as they roared and charged towards the writhing Bitter Flesh Mire disasters around them!

The survivors had not yet recovered from the destructive power of the purple spear when they saw a magnificent Eastern dragon descend from the sky. With a gentle stomp, it crushed a ruined building, fully enveloped by disaster, into fragments. If one looked closely, they would realize that this dragon was woven from countless intricate threads. The embroidered silk dragon soared above the disaster, and Xiao Chunping, riding on its back, gently waved her hand. Countless threads, like an overwhelming curtain of rain, washed over the fleshy vines clinging to the earth and buildings. Han Xiang flicked his palm through the rubble, and a chalk-gray downward-left stroke separated from it. He held this stroke aloft in the air, and more and more strokes separated from materials all around, finally combining to form a colossal character reaching the heavens:

—Slay