To be honest, Lady Simone really is a knockout—her face, her figure, total femme fatale material. But right now, she's just struggling on the ground, can't even stand up. She gasps for breath, glancing nervously back at the Ninety-nine Death Desert. Where's Wind Wushang? Where's Princess Embroidered Jade? And that chilling man? All three are still caught in that raging sandstorm, none of them have made it out yet.
All three of them want her dead—at the very least, none of them are letting her off easy. But in some twisted way, the one she hates most, the one she most wants dead, is Jack Young.
"Die, die, just hurry up and die! No, wait, he can't die yet—he has to undo his demon magic first, then he can die! All of them, just drop dead!" Lady Simone anxiously stared into the sandstorm, searching for the three figures. Suddenly, a silhouette burst out of the dust and landed messily on the pyramid steps—it was Wind Wushang. His clothes were torn to shreds, hair a mess, covered in blood—he looked less like a king and more like a beggar.
Even this master of lightness skill couldn't escape.
Boom! The endless sandstorm split open, and a dazzling, arrogant figure soared out, crashing down onto the pyramid. Robes fluttering, face cold and poised, waves of icy mist spread beneath his feet—the Cold Jade Demon God looked completely unscathed!
"You—you! You—you!" Wind Wushang staggered backward, staring at the Cold Jade Demon God in utter disbelief. He'd been shocked by him plenty of times before, but what just happened had scared him down to his bones.
Just now, after bursting out of the ground, Wind Wushang tried to use the wild winds to make his escape. At the Heavenly King level, nobody could match his straight-line speed. But just as he thought he was home free, a blast of icy energy came roaring out of the sand behind him. It didn't hit him directly, but worked together with the raging storm to instantly form a short, powerful vortex—trapping Wind Wushang right inside.
Like a meteor yanked by gravity, Wind Wushang was pulled off course, flying somewhere else. When he tried to regain control and dash away, another blast of cold energy shot through the air, exploded into a swirling chill, and sent him spinning off again. Over and over, those icy palms cut through the sky, leaving Wind Wushang angry, shocked, and downright terrified—he was sweating bullets up there in the howling wind.
He was just like the Monkey King, somersaulting eighty thousand miles, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't escape the Buddha's palm. The Cold Jade Demon God seemed to have figured out all his tricks—every move, every burst of speed, even the wild, shifting winds. No matter where Wind Wushang flew, there was always a blast of Earth Dragon Ascends exploding right beneath him. The shockwaves and flying sand battered him until he coughed up blood, cut him all over, and he couldn't even land.
If he hadn't realized how bad things were and rushed back to the pyramid with everything he had, he might've been toyed to death in midair.
On the pyramid's sloping steps, Wind Wushang stood at the top, but he didn't feel high and mighty at all. He couldn't help but panic and back away—he could see his own fear and despair reflected in the Cold Jade Demon God's eyes, as vast as a whole universe.
Clap, clap, clap—step by step, the Cold Jade Demon God descended the stairs, his left hand gripping his sword in reverse, the blade glowing again. The sheer pressure he gave off was overwhelming. Even Lady Simone, who wasn't the main target, was so awed by his presence that she unconsciously retreated two steps to the side.
But just as the Cold Jade Demon God took his fourth step, Wind Wushang—who'd been stumbling backward—suddenly screamed hysterically: "You fell for it!" He swung his arms like a fisherman reeling in a giant catch, no care for the consequences. Suddenly, strands of glowing Death Silk Thread—laid out by Wind Wushang—rose up from the ground, wrapping around the Cold Jade Demon God from all directions. Wind Wushang unleashed the full force of his sixth-level innate energy, pushing himself to the absolute limit.
But that's not all—this was a one-shot deal, and he had to make it count! A shimmering light, both real and illusory, rose from Wind Wushang's whole body, like a bowstring pulled tighter and tighter before snapping loose. Buzz! A strange zone spread out from Wind Wushang as the center. Physically, it looked no different from anywhere else, but to anyone caught inside, everything was turned upside down.
Black. Absolute blackness. Not just dark, but silent. It wasn't that there was no light—you just couldn't see. It wasn't that there was no sound—you just couldn't hear. Lady Simone, caught in the zone too, felt like she'd entered a terrifying world where her senses just stopped working. She couldn't see, couldn't hear—her best human instincts failed her in an instant. Worse yet, even her reactions and thoughts felt crushed by a heavy shadow, her mind slowing to a crawl.
This was Wind Wushang's Heavenly King phenomenon—a trick he could only pull off for a split second. But in that instant, everyone caught inside became his living targets. Meanwhile, his own reflexes multiplied five or ten times—in a world moving in slow motion, he could kill with a single strike and vanish a thousand miles away. Life and death decided in a single moment—that's why his phenomenon was called "Life on the Line."
In this ultra-slow world, Wind Wushang's face twisted with effort as he charged forward. The wind, gravity, even his own body felt like chains and mud trying to hold him back. But he gritted his teeth, forcing his way ahead—already moving at his peak speed, and still pushing faster.
He reached out his hand, true energy condensing at his fingertips, aiming straight for the Cold Jade Demon God's eyes.
No way this could fail—he could do it! That guy was moving slower than a snail, absolutely no way he could react in time! Just one hit, that's all it would take to kill him! Then he'd never have to worry about this demon god again, never have to sneak around, and finally, finally, he could reach the very top—there'd be no one left in this world he couldn't kill!
Just then, a cold, clear voice rang out behind the Cold Jade Demon God: "Moonlight, shadowless."
Crap, it's Princess Embroidered Jade! Why—why can she react in my Life on the Line world? My phenomenon only lasts a moment, but in that instant, I'm supposed to be unbeatable among Heavenly Kings! How can Princess Embroidered Jade still move in Life on the Line?
Before he could even process his shock, pure moonlight rose up, shattering the darkness. 'The bright moon rises over the sea, we gaze together from afar; the moon climbs the Tianshan, drifting through the vast clouds.' That ethereal, world-shaking moonlight tore the darkness to shreds in a blink, wrapping Wind Wushang in the phenomenon instead. The Cold Jade Demon God stood in the moonlight, a halo blazing behind him. Wind Wushang saw something in that phenomenon that rocked him to his core—could it be...?
Bang bang bang! The Death Silk Thread was sliced apart by a single sword strike from the Cold Jade Demon God. Top to bottom, no resistance at all—faster than Wind Wushang could've ever imagined. He didn't even have time to react before a sudden pain hit his gut, his upper and lower body flying forward like a bent bow, then—thud! He looked down, coughing blood, and saw a stick jammed into his stomach, nearly punching a hole right through him.
That stick—pitch black and heavy—was the Dead Stick, the very one Jack Young got from Ou Yezi.
The Cold Jade Demon God gripped the stick with both hands, striking Wind Wushang from every direction like a phantom.
Hands, wrists, arms, shoulders.
Feet, ankles, shins, thighs.
Hips, waist, ribs, shoulders.
Every part took a beating, like a rainstorm of double-stick blows. Cold air swirled all around, hot and cold currents clashing, pinning Wind Wushang in midair. He couldn't advance, couldn't retreat, couldn't land—he could only take the endless, furious stick strikes. Finally, the Cold Jade Demon God's eyes blazed cold, his shoulders shook, waist twisted, heel spun, wrist turned, and he smashed a stick right into Wind Wushang's chest.
Boom! The explosive energy spread out in rings, sending Wind Wushang flying with a chorus of crunching, cracking sounds. He smashed through bricks and stones, leaving a shattered trail behind, shooting up the steps for over a hundred meters before coming to a stop on a platform.
Spat! Bright red blood trickled from his lips, freezing into ice crystals before it even hit the ground, shattering on the stone. Wind Wushang stood there like a zombie, barely upright, forcing his eyelids open—his snake-like pupils now dull and gray with despair.
Clap, clap, clap—the Cold Jade Demon God stopped in front of him and spoke in a voice both strange and divine: "Ten years ago, the Fang family of the Flower Kingdom was wiped out. You were the one pulling strings behind the scenes, weren't you?" The question sounded flat, almost emotionless.
A sly smile crept onto Wind Wushang's ashen face, and he rasped, "That's right. It was me."
The Cold Jade Demon God's eyes flickered, as if he was snapping out of his emotionless trance. He asked a second question, this time with some feeling in his voice: "Why did you kill the Fang family? Why did you kill Ou Yezi?"
Wind Wushang suddenly laughed—starting low, then rising to wild, manic laughter. He threw his head back and howled at the sky: "I killed the Fang family, I killed Ou Yezi, because they deserved it! The Wedding Dress Divine Skill—no one else can ever know about it! There's a massive secret, one that could shake the world. Curious, aren't you? Well, I'm not telling! If I can't have it, no one can—no one! Those worthless fools think they can compete with me? I'll kill, kill, kill—wipe them all out! Your family, your friends, your confidants, your lovers—anything you treasure, I'll trample. Anything precious, I'll take. Anyone in my way, I'll kill—"
Boom! A thunderous crash, like a grenade going off—the Cold Jade Demon God hammered a furious fist into Wind Wushang's chest, cutting his rant short. It was like he'd finally lit the Cold Jade Demon God's fuse; the calm, icy mask was gone, replaced by a killing intent as fierce as a winter storm. He didn't stop—heavy fists rained down, shaking the ground, sending shards of stone and ice flying. Just as he raised his right fist, ready to unleash a blizzard, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
"Dummy, he's already dead." Princess Embroidered Jade's gentle voice made the Cold Jade Demon God freeze, fists halted mid-air. The cold mist slowly faded, and Wind Wushang's body had turned into nothing but frozen rubble—only his head was left intact.
A pair of feet appeared in the Cold Jade Demon God's view—their owner dropped to her knees before him. It was Fang Lingji. She knocked her head on the ground with a loud thud, then again and again, for a total of nine times. When she finally looked up, tears streaming down her face, her big eyes met the Cold Jade Demon God's gaze and she stammered, "Thank you, Master. My enemy... is dead."
The Cold Jade Demon God slowly lowered his fist, looking up to see Princess Flower Shifter supporting Luo Yuxi not far away. Both nodded at him. His gaze trembled, as if waking from a long dream. The icy clothes covering his body gradually faded, revealing his original outfit. His hair, once frozen, scattered as icy dust, and the cold light in his eyes faded away. He lifted his right hand—not a fist now, but a gentle touch—resting it on Fang Lingji's head.
"Lingji." His hair was still white, but the divinity in his voice faded, warmth returning—this was Jack Young's voice: "You've had your revenge."
The girl suddenly reached out, grabbing Jack Young's hand with both of hers, refusing to let go, and burst out sobbing. Jack bent down, wrapped her in his arms, patting her back with one hand and gently stroking her hair with the other. His hair was white as snow—snow is cold, but Jack's embrace was warm.
Before long, the weeping girl wiped her eyes, sprang to her feet, and with a powerful kick, sent Wind Wushang's ugly head flying, spinning far away. Fang Lingji cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted with all her might in the direction the head flew: "Mother! Father! Our enemy is dead!"
Her shout echoed far and wide, ringing across the sky, carried away by the roaring wind.
The South Wasteland wind never ends—let the past drift away with it, let it all go with the wind.