Chapter 882: Is It Me Who Won

In the distance, amidst the accumulating snow, Mo Lian slowly lifted the brim of his bowler hat with his fingertips. He gazed at the crimson opera robe that had risen from Jiang Xiaohua, standing tall in the wind and snow, and a mix of emotion and mockery flickered in his eyes.

"As expected of the Borrowed Moon Path... Bai Ye, oh Bai Ye, you possess such a unique ability, yet why don't you use it where it truly matters?" he mused. "If you wished, you could completely manipulate this fusion of world-ending calamity, controlling it in the palm of your hand. With the right methods, you could even control its memories, destroying all human realms one by one. This is a superweapon capable of surpassing the King of Silver..."

Mo Lian's hands glowed faintly with the light of a Heart Serpent. The more he murmured, the more agitated he became, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably curving upward. Having just stolen the ability to pilfer memories, encountering the fabled fusion of world-ending calamity gave Mo Lian a rush, like hitting the jackpot. He knew clearly that combining these two elements would unleash a nearly invincible power. If he manipulated it properly, he might even use Mocking Disaster to flatten the Boundless Realm and kill the King of Silver! With the King of Silver dead, the demigod position in the Path of the God of Thieves would become vacant, making him the most promising candidate for the next demigod... This was his chance to achieve godhood!

Before that, he decided to practice with the Imperial Ancient Treasure. He wondered how long this ancient treasure, lost for hundreds of years, could withstand the power of Mocking Disaster.

Just as Mo Lian anticipated Chen Ling's death and Mocking Disaster's emergence, a sudden change occurred!

Audience Expectation 3Current Expectation: 57

Two lines of text flashed before Chen Ling's eyes, causing him to momentarily freeze. Before he could grasp what was happening, the wind and snow before him seemed to be abruptly torn apart by a pair of hands. A black-clad figure, clutching a longsword and emanating towering killing intent and hatred, strode towards him.

"Chen—Ling—!!!"

The moment Chen Ling recognized the person's face, his brows slowly furrowed. "It's you," Chen Ling said calmly. "Strange... I distinctly killed you myself. How are you still alive?"

"Why should I die...? Why do I deserve to die??" Jian Changsheng's eyes were bloodshot as he glared at Chen Ling, or perhaps at his own tumultuous fate, and roared in fury! "I served as a servant for so many years, and finally, I had a chance to escape my destiny! How could I die here...? Whether you're a monster or a fiend, it doesn't matter! I, Jian Changsheng, will never surrender to fate!!"

Like a black beast, Jian Changsheng charged with a howl towards the crimson opera robe in the wind and snow.

So fast! Chen Ling was startled. Compared to his memory, Jian Changsheng's speed was far greater, yet he was surprisingly able to react, immediately using the boning knife in his hand to parry the sword's edge!

Clang clang clang—!

The boning knife and the longsword clashed rapidly, producing crisp, violent ringing. A terrifying force continuously ripped up the surrounding ground. Both Chen Ling and Jian Changsheng were astonished by their surging combat power, but as white lights repeatedly flashed above their heads, neither had time to ponder the reason. Endless confusion and emptiness filled their minds.

Both men had forgotten most of their skills, retaining only the most basic combat instincts. The boning knife and the sword's edge continuously wounded their bodies, and after a short while, they were transformed into two blood-soaked figures. In this state, their blood-imbued clothing was subconsciously activated, causing their combat power to surge continuously!

Seeing that the two were locked in an inextricable struggle, Chen Ling had a thought and quickly distanced himself from Jian Changsheng, aiming the dark muzzle of his weapon at Jian's bloody figure... He possessed another powerful skill, the "Trial Court," which he had acquired from Han Meng.

As Chen Ling's killing intent spread wildly, a domain-level pressure suddenly descended. The trial's cold aura locked onto the charging Jian Changsheng, and a suffocating sensation of impending death continuously rose within the latter's heart. No... Jian Changsheng had been defeated by this very skill last time, but this time, the skill was even more terrifying, so much so that he couldn't even muster a thought of resistance. The crimson opera robe flailed wildly in the wind, and Jian Changsheng even saw his impending death reflected in the dark muzzle.

"For the restart of human civilization..."

"I judge you to die."

Chen Ling pulled the trigger.

The world-shattering judgment did not occur; Jian Changsheng was not disintegrated into nothingness by the strike. Covered in blood, Jian Changsheng opened his eyes in a daze, discovering he was still alive, his gaze filled with bewilderment. "The Trial Court didn't activate... why?" Chen Ling murmured to himself, looking at his own hand.

The activation of the Trial Court required a "pretext." This "pretext" was to be defined by Chen Ling, but it had to align with his inner beliefs; he couldn't act against his conscience or arbitrarily frame someone. His "restart pretext," which had always worked flawlessly, unexpectedly failed against Jian Changsheng this time. This implied that, deep down in his heart, Jian Changsheng was not an enemy of the restart of human civilization, nor was he Chen Ling's personal enemy? Why?

Chen Ling's Trial Court failing caused Jian Changsheng's eyes to light up. He seized this weakness without hesitation, plunging his sword into Chen Ling's abdomen and slashing horizontally with force!

Copious blood splattered onto the snow. Chen Ling was almost severed at the waist by the strike, and under Jian Changsheng's impact, he staggered and fell backward onto the ground.

"Hahahahaha!! Chen Ling!! This time, I win!!" Jian Changsheng looked down at the blood-soaked Chen Ling beneath him and couldn't help but laugh loudly. He raised the blood-stained longsword in both hands, poised to stab Chen Ling's throat!

The next moment, the chillingly gleaming sword edge paused in mid-air.

Forgetting Progress: 70

In the vast expanse of wind and snow, Sun Buming retraced his steps, following the footprints beneath him. Sun Buming didn't remember where he was, nor why he had appeared there. He only knew that once he came to his senses, he had already walked a long way in an unknown snowy landscape.

After standing blankly in the snow for a long time, he still chose to retrace his steps, following the footprints he had made. He wanted to know how he, who had been performing a lion dance just a second ago, had arrived here in the blink of an eye.

As he delved deeper into the wind and snow, a large expanse of crimson, blood-stained ground came into his view. A figure draped in a crimson opera robe, almost severed at the waist, lay in the center of the blood. Beside him, another figure stumbled backward, and the sword in his hand clattered to the ground.

"I... I... I killed someone?" Jian Changsheng's face was ashen. He stared blankly at the blood-stained longsword he had just dropped and at the dying, bloody figure before him, his body trembling with fear.

"I killed someone... no... how could I kill someone...?"

"What have I done...?"

"If Young Master Yan finds out, I'll definitely be held accountable by the merchant guild, and my father will probably be implicated too... He was just about to be free from his indenture... It's over... everything's over..."