Chapter Thirty-Five: Backlash

The pink glow at her fingertips, as faint as a candle flickering in the wind, embodied all of Su Li’s concentration and greed at this moment. That seductive light, like the final venomous fang of a serpent, hovered three inches above Lin Mo’s brow; just a fraction closer, and it would pierce into his consciousness, forcibly seizing control of the murderous sword!

The secret art of the Sect of Harmonious Joy—Soul Capture! Using one’s own blood and spirit as bait to confound the mind and enslave the soul. The cost was immense, but for the Void Sky Relic Sword, so tantalizingly within reach, all was justified!

Lin Mo curled on the ground, his body encased in ash-black ice crystals and crawling dark sword patterns. Each shallow breath carried frothy blood tinged with fragments of his organs. His eyes were tightly shut, his consciousness sinking and rising amid the fragments of the Void Sky Scripture, the backlash of the inverse seed, and the raging sword intent of the No Return blade—a mire that left him almost oblivious to external threats. His hand clutching the sword hilt was pale as death from exertion, the last vestige of physical instinct, and yet—the sole flaw exposed!

This was the chance! Now!

The final shred of hesitation in Su Li’s eyes was consumed by a blazing greed. Her intact right hand thrust forward suddenly! The pink glow at her fingertip flared, dazzling, infused with the remnants of her cultivation and a desperate ferocity, stabbing directly at Lin Mo’s undefended brow!

“Soul—!”

The incantation was uttered only halfway.

Just as the pink glow was about to touch Lin Mo’s skin—

A deep, resonant hum erupted without warning from the pitch-black, earthward-pointing No Return ancient sword in Lin Mo’s grasp.

The intricate, archaic patterns on the blade, as if disturbed by some impurity, suddenly shimmered with a layer of cold, shadowy light. A silent sword intent, more despairing than the abyss itself, surged from the hilt—like the impatient breath of a slumbering dragon roused by ants.

The tip of Su Li’s finger, along with the seductive pink glow, met this invisible sword aura—

It sizzled like a scorching iron pressed to thin ice.

The pink light, which had gathered all her remaining cultivation, blood, and soul, evaporated instantly—without a ripple, without a sound.

And then—

A shrill, distorted scream burst from Su Li’s throat—pain far beyond any injury she had ever suffered.

She felt as if her fingers—no, her entire right hand, along with her extended spirit—had been cast into billions of spinning, icy blades! An indescribable force, carrying absolute annihilation, surged from her fingertip, along her meridians, into her mind—an overwhelming backlash!

Her right hand, from the fingertip, was sliced inch by inch as if by invisible blades. Skin, flesh, bone—all exploded into fine blood mist. Her five slender fingers were reduced to a blur of shredded flesh in the blink of an eye. The stump was smooth as glass, but instead of blood spurting forth, a layer of eerie, gray-white ice crystals instantly enveloped and froze it.

Pain like a tidal wave engulfed Su Li. Her vision blackened; her body, as if stripped of all bones, staggered backward and crashed to the cold, jagged stones. The wound on her left hand tore open again, the gruesome injury at her brow churned with deathly gray qi, threatening to devour her entire skull. Curled up, wracked by agony and bone-deep terror, she could only rasp for air, her gaze fixed on the pitch-black ancient sword in Lin Mo’s grip—filled with boundless horror and a soul-deep trembling.

Those who are not bearers of the Dao—approach and perish!

The warning left by the sword guardian’s remnant will became icy reality, crushing her greed.

The No Return sword remained cold and silent, still pointed to the earth. The annihilating aura at the hilt slowly receded, as if brushing away a mote of dust. Only the shadowy glow at the guard quietly proclaimed its inviolable majesty.

Lin Mo sensed none of this. He was still trapped in his own infernal torment.

The fragments of the Void Sky Scripture, battered by the sword’s intent like a battered ship in a storm, flickered with twisted ancient glyphs, emitting silent cries, struggling to maintain their fragile link to Lin Mo’s soul, lest they be wholly assimilated or scattered. Deep within the fragments, the inverse seed’s verdant glow, crushed by the sword’s intent, shrank to its core, its twisted vitality recoiling, as if dead—leaving only a primal terror of the annihilating aura.

Fragments of chaotic memory churned like molten lava in his collapsing mind. Burning heavens, shattered black spears, viscous golden god-blood… countless twisted faces howling and battling… finally freezing upon eyes wide open in death, filled with endless resentment. The owner of those eyes fell, blood-stained, as a broken sword pierced cracked earth, unleashing a roar that shook the universe:

“Hao Tian—!”

That roar, like a final brand, saturated with boundless hatred and betrayal, seared Lin Mo’s fading consciousness.

“Ugh…” Lin Mo’s body arched, another mouthful of dark, ice-crusted blood gushed from him, splattering across the cold ground and the black sword. The blood was quickly absorbed, leaving only dried traces. His hand tightened unconsciously on the hilt, his bones groaning under the strain. The sword pulsed with a faint, cold throb, like a sleeping beast’s heartbeat, echoing the tortured “stone” in his chest.

At that moment—

“Hah… hah… the sword… mine…”

A hoarse, broken voice, like a feverish dream, filled with bitter resentment and twisted malice, echoed from the silent chamber’s corner.

Su Li!

She was still alive!

Pain and terror had battered her reason, but the Sect of Harmonious Joy’s mission and her greed for the peerless sword gnawed at her soul like maggots. She struggled, using the ice-encrusted stump of her right arm to prop herself up, attempting once more to crawl—not toward Lin Mo, but toward the sword in his hand! Her intact left hand spread its fingers, the faint pink glow flickering stubbornly, still aiming for Lin Mo’s grip. Her eyes were a chaotic red, consumed by twisted obsession: seize the sword! She must have it! Even with only one hand!

“Get… away…” Lin Mo, stirred by her poisonous aura and the threat of her approach, eyelids twitching violently, managed to force out two slurred words from his throat. His wrist tightened instinctively around the sword, the blade rising slightly, a cold edge shimmering anew.

Su Li froze! The invisible menace of the No Return sword chilled her to the bone, the remnants of her sanity doused by mortal fear. She stopped, trembling, staring at the faintly raised black sword tip, her eyes filled with struggle and despair.

As the two locked in a deadly, silent standoff—

Boom!!!

The entire Burial Abyss shuddered violently, without warning!

This tremor was deeper than when the blood cocoon attacked, more… uncanny.

It did not come from any direction, but from the very bottom of the abyss—as if something unimaginably vast had shifted below.

Crack! Crackle—

The chamber’s walls were instantly webbed with dense fractures! Massive stones tumbled down! The ground heaved like waves! The black miasma beneath the abyss roiled violently, thundering like a storm. An indescribable terror—older, vaster, and hungrier than the blood cocoon’s will—rose from the abyss’s deepest darkness, like a primordial beast awakening, slowly… spreading upward.

As this presence swept the chamber—

The icy fragment of the Void Sky Scripture in Lin Mo’s chest, and the inverse seed clinging tightly to it, erupted in unprecedented, extreme fear.

The No Return sword in Lin Mo’s grasp shuddered violently, unleashing a piercing, urgent cry.

“Zheng—!”

Within that sword cry was a fierce warning—anger mixed with alarm.

The true core of the Immortal Refining Furnace deep in the abyss… had awakened.