Chapter 147

Chapter 147

Laleye.

Passing through a dense wall of green seaweed, the scene before them opened up.

The entire city was shrouded in a layer of gray, deathly stillness. A terrifyingly large moon hung in the black sky ahead, a crescent of it submerged in the seabed, its edges jagged and irregular.

Though the white moon appeared bright, visibility here was poor.

The dim moonlight spilled onto the ground, leaving the whole city silent as if it existed in another universe.

Tang Xian’an could feel it—the weight of many malicious gazes from the shadows, fixed upon them.

A massive sphere of flesh formed by the meat-fish rolled through the air. From the darkness, pollutants would occasionally lunge, tearing a bite from the sphere before sinking back into the depths.

Strange, inhuman howls echoed in Tang Xian’an’s ears.

The human body was fragile, insignificant as dust in the face of evolution.

Perhaps because food was still relatively abundant, and the aura Tang Xian’an emitted was not weak, the basic instinct of prey to avoid danger held sway. For now, no pollutant dared make a move on him.

After entering Laleye, Lu Yan’s Pollution Disease progression had been strangely halted.

The reading on the monitor was stuck at a precarious 98.8, as if broken, refusing to climb any higher for a long while.

In his arms, Lu Yan finally stirred.

His eyes opened to a slit. As consciousness returned, the golden fish scales on his face slowly receded.

Lu Yan couldn’t describe what he was feeling. A deep, penetrating cold wracked his body, yet inside, a fire raged, a conflagration threatening to reduce him to ashes.

The System had not returned, but fragments of the "Omniscience" talent still lingered within him.

His mind felt like an old computer, overloaded with cache, struggling to process.

He lifted an arm, looping it around Tang Xian’an’s neck, his voice a low rasp. "Keep moving forward. Don’t look back."

"Okay."

Tang Xian’an didn’t ask why. He simply obeyed.

From Lu Yan’s perspective, a churning black sea-fog followed close behind them.

Within the mist, pairs of crimson eyes were locked onto Tang Xian’an and himself, their gazes dripping with undisguised greed and hunger.

This black fog possessed a mental-control type talent. Through its layers, the true form of the pollutant was impossible to discern.

Meeting its eyes would leave a normal person dazed for a long time.

Lu Yan’s gaze held no fear, only a calm, even disdainful, detachment. The black fog actually shrank back half a step, timid.

But it did not leave.

Soon, other monsters joined the procession.

Concealed within the fog, several tailed creatures leaped forward. Jet-black and resembling the legendary water monkeys, their mouths had elongated into wide, dolphin-like snouts. There was no doubt these small horrors could bite a man’s head clean off.

If the ghost-infants of Longnu Lake had fully matured, they would likely look the same.

An untimely hunger gnawed at Lu Yan.

He pressed a hand to his stomach. His blood felt like a storm-tossed sea within his veins. Even with his exceptionally high pain tolerance, the agony tore at his consciousness, dragging him between lucidity and chaos.

The sound of ocean tides in his ears was replaced by whispers, now distant, now near.

[... Brother.]

Lu Yan’s heart gave a violent lurch, its beat a muffled thunderclap.

[Have you come to see me?]

His silver pupils grew unfocused. The whites of his eyes turned a blood-like crimson. Gasping heavily, as if starved for air.

Tang Xian’an produced a vial of special serum from his gear, pried open Lu Yan’s lips, and fed it to him.

The serum might not curb the soaring pollution level, but it had an additional function: pain relief.

In the past, when the Research Institute performed surgeries where anesthesia was impossible, they’d used this serum as a substitute.

Lu Yan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He clamped a hand over his mouth, shoving at Tang Xian’an while his voice rose sharply. "Let me go!—Go!"

His emotions rarely ran this high, leaving Tang Xian’an momentarily stunned.

The next second, Lu Yan arched his back, wracked by violent coughs. Despite desperately covering his mouth, bright red blood seeped through his fingers.

The blood diffused into the seawater.

Lu Yan stopped pushing Tang Xian’an away. He understood. Once his blood entered the water, any attempt at concealment was pointless.

Tang Xian’an’s grip tightened on Huang Chen. Within his golden eyes, his pupils contracted to pinpricks of black.

On the ground, on stone pillars, on moss, even on the surface of the colossal moon ahead—countless eyes snapped open, like beasts roused from slumber.

Only then did he realize the moon wasn’t a moon at all, but a gigantic, living white sphere of flesh.

Lu Yan leaned close to Tang Xian’an’s ear, whispering, "The moon… it’s the mother of all pollutants in Laleye. Also called the ‘Queen.’ But it’s also… an outsider."

A carapaced monster erupted from the seabed with a shriek. Soon, another followed.

They resembled giant lice, bodies pitch-black, clusters of red compound eyes dotting each segment.

Shrieks rose and fell in a bizarre, dissonant chorus. The silent city erupted into frantic life.

They opened their mouths, cylindrical maws lined with rows of serrated fangs.

One impatient sea-worm coiled and launched itself at Lu Yan.

A flash of blade-light intertwined with the moonlight.

The near-meter-long worm was severed in two, spraying fresh, deep-blue blood. But this was only the beginning.

Hundreds of pollutants surged forward like locusts, blotting out the sky.

They emerged from all directions, their compound eyes glowing with malevolent light. And this was merely the tip of the iceberg of Laleye’s pollutants.

From above, the area was nearly submerged by a tide of black chitin.

A faint, nearly invisible curtain of light rose from the ground, enveloping a hundred-meter radius centered on Tang Xian’an.

Sea-worms passing through the light first swelled rapidly, like overripe fruit. Then their flesh withered as if desiccated in the sun, their carapaces quickly bleaching to a mottled white.

The sea-worms lost all vitality, dropping lifeless to the ground. Even their corpses decomposed at an unnaturally accelerated rate.

In that brief moment, the monsters had lived out their entire lifespans at an inconceivable speed.

[Talent 3 - Time]

Time, that which erodes all things, that marches ever forward without looking back.

Tang Xian’an didn’t spare them another glance. Shielded by the light, he carried Lu Yan onward.

Lu Yan’s regeneration talent had completely failed. Or perhaps this was a wound regeneration simply couldn’t mend. The blood continued to flow unabated.

He felt it was a waste. So many pollutants craved it; he shouldn’t let outsiders have it.

Lu Yan smeared his blood across Tang Xian’an’s pale lips, then suddenly laughed.

For a long time, Lu Yan had found little meaning in living.

But because of Tang Xian’an, he had begun to fear death.

He swallowed back more blood, his unfocused pupils sharpening. He lifted a hand, pointing. "Go this way."

The direction he pointed led straight toward the "moon."

…

…

The barrier of Time was not always effective. Especially against some of the larger pollutants.

The monsters of the deep were easily twice the size of their surface counterparts.

White dragon’s breath ignited along Tang Xian’an’s blade. The flaming longsword cleaved through heavy carapace, spraying blood.

The sword wounds left on the pollutants, aided by the dragon’s breath, continued to spread and corrode.

A sea-serpent covered in protruding scales split vertically before him. Its massive body thrashed on the ground, crashing in agony against a stone pillar.

The pillar shuddered violently. Rubble broke loose, plummeting from a hundred meters up and striking the ground in clouds of dust.

The human form was minuscule, especially facing these deep-sea abominations.

But Tang Xian’an refused to shift into his draconic form. He wouldn’t be able to hold Lu Yan.

After his brief moment of clarity, Lu Yan had fallen unconscious again. Blood trickled from his ears and nose, staining the front of his clothes.

Tang Xian’an had tried to stem the bleeding. It was useless.

From the start until now, Lu Yan had lost enough blood to kill an ordinary person. Thankfully, his heartbeat, though slow, remained strong and steady.

The scent of that blood was also the reason the pollutants pursued so relentlessly.

They wanted to evolve.

And this evolution was more accessible than ever. They just needed to consume Lu Yan.

Their numbers were so vast Tang Xian’an didn’t even bother noting the specific forms of the monsters.

But he remembered Lu Yan’s words: Don’t look back. Move forward.

As Tang Xian’an advanced, the moon ahead grew larger and larger.

But on his approach, he encountered an unexpected, familiar figure.

Shen Qingyang stood in the middle of the path, as if he’d been waiting for some time.

Several slender tentacles writhed from one of his eye sockets. Eyes on the tentacles stared with sinister intent.

Tang Xian’an halted, his gaze wary and fierce.

Shen Qingyang didn’t look at him. The sight of Tang Xian’an irritated him.

His focus was on Lu Yan. He couldn’t see Lu Yan’s face, only a limp arm hanging down, the exposed skin covered in golden scales.

Tang Xian’an was protecting him well.

Tang Xian’an’s body was a map of fresh wounds. Jagged bite marks tore across his skin where greedy pollutants had ripped away flesh. His golden blood soaked through his clothes, a stark contrast to the unblemished figure he cradled against his chest.

For now, Shen Qingyang set aside his deep-seated resentment toward the dragon.

Lu Yan was unconscious. Shen Qingyang carefully deposited the lifeless red eyeball into his own pocket.

He reached out, his voice strained but level. “Give him to me. We’re out of time.”

Outside, the moon would already be bleeding crimson. The god was stirring.

After consuming Lu Cheng, Shen Qingyang had been granted a fleeting, terrible vision of the future.

A world without Lu Yan.

In his place, a newborn, omniscient “god” wearing Lu Yan’s face. They shared the same features, but it was not him.

Shen Qingyang had agonized over what to do. Only one desperate, unlikely plan had taken shape.

If he was destined to die as a vessel for the divine flesh, then why not die by Lu Yan’s hand?

Tang Xian’an shifted Huang Chen, the blade a gleaming barrier before him. Uncontrolled fury twisted his features. “In your dreams. Why the hell should I?”

“Why?” Shen Qingyang hunched forward, a low, choked sound escaping him—half laugh, half sob.

Jet-black tentacles erupted from his back. He lunged, one writhing appendage shooting for Tang Xian’an’s throat. The deep blue eyes studding its surface were veined with crimson, swollen and ready to burst.

His laughter turned wild, shrill, edged with a raw, desperate grief.

A flash of the blade severed the tentacle. Ichor sprayed from the stump.

Tang Xian’an kept his sword pointed at Shen Qingyang, every instinct screaming danger. He would not let any pollutant near Lu Yan.

“Because I am willing to die for him!” Shen Qingyang snarled, advancing again. “Because—right now—I am the only one who can save him! So I ask you, why not?”

He slammed his hand onto the blade, gripping it with a force meant to shatter steel. Huang Chen bit deep, carving to the bone. Sapphire blood welled and dripped from the wound.

His burning gaze locked onto Tang Xian’an, the words ground out between clenched teeth. “Can you say the same?”