487: Chapter 487 Giving You a Fortuitous Fortune

"No rush."

The voice of the Lord of Burials rang out, carrying an indifference that transcended time, as if what was fading before it was not a life, but merely a wisp of smoke destined to dissipate.

Its claws did not move.

That palm-sized bronze fragment hovered above its rotting palm, rotating slowly and stubbornly.

The mottled rust looked like dried scabs of blood, and a faint, eerie green glimmer was seeping out from the cracks in the rust—cold, curious, like an eye from the ancient past, quietly watching everything above.

Chu Changsheng's gaze swept past that eerie bronze and cast itself toward the sky above the rift valley.

The Burial Son's body was like the last withered leaf in an autumn wind, barely maintaining a human shape.

His chest no longer rose or fell, save for the occasional, infinitesimal twitch, proving that a tiny spark of "living Qi" still remained within this shell.

His Divine Soul was shattered.

The scattering specks of light were not stars, but embers after a fire had burned out—a pale, desperate gray, drifting out from his seven orifices, carrying a sense of almost quiet annihilation.

Beside him was Zero.

Even in death, this Prodigy of the Void Zerg possessed a Physical Body that remained heart-stoppingly perfect.

Beneath the translucent skin lay textures like solidified moonlight and bones carved from crystal; it hovered silently, forming a shocking contrast with the Burial Son's broken state, as if the boundary between life and death were being ruthlessly manifested here.

The Lord of Burials displayed them side by side, as if examining two raw materials about to be cast into a furnace.

In its single, eerie green eye, there was not a trace of emotion, only a focus that bordered on cold cruelty.

"Kid."

It spoke again, its hoarse voice like a rusted file, steadily filing into that patch of dead, silent ash.

The Burial Son's body trembled almost imperceptibly.

It was not a response, but a trivial ripple stirred up in his remaining instinct by a higher existence.

The scattering ashes of his Divine Soul also became disordered for an instant.

"You are of the Bloodline of my Burial Clan."

The Lord of Burials' tone was flat; it did not trace past glories, nor did it pity the dead-end, merely stating a fact about to be utilized, just as one would state that Ore needs smelting and refined iron needs forging.

"Open your Divine Sense. This Ancestor will bestow a fortune upon you."

—"Burial Clan"!

These four words were like four red-hot branding irons, searing deep into the cold, dead lake of the Burial Son's heart!

Sss...

Deep within his eyes, which were almost completely covered by Death Qi and had lost all focus, a faint glimmer of light struggled, with extreme difficulty, to ripple outward.

This was not a longing for life—life was already a luxury for him.

This was something deeper, an imprint carved into the very foundation of his Bloodline, pulsing with every heartbeat, something that even the shattering of his Divine Soul could not erase—it was his Origin, his root, everything carried behind the word "Burial," heavy enough that it could neither be shouldered nor abandoned.

His lips, those cracked and blood-stained lips, moved ever so slightly.

There was no sound.

But Chu Changsheng saw the lip movements clearly, the outline formed with the last ounce of his strength:

"Ancestor..."

The next moment, the door to his Sea of Consciousness, which had been tightly closed by weak instinct, that door already covered in cracks and teetering on the verge of collapse, was gently pushed open from the inside by himself.

No, it was not "opening," it was "surrendering."

He completely dissipated his last bit of self-defensive intent, exposing his Sea of Consciousness—the most core, fragile, and private dwelling of a Cultivator's Divine Soul—completely and nakedly.

Like a sacrifice voluntarily walking onto an altar, before the butcher's knife fell, he stripped away all armor and bared his neck.

The Lord of Burials remained unmoved. Its claws finally moved.

The Void Divine Body of Zero, hovering nearby, silently... shattered.

It was not an explosion, nor a tearing, but an extremely refined, almost artistic "deconstruction."

The moonlight-like body transformed into thousands of translucent fragments of varying sizes and shapes, each edge shimmering with the faint, twisted luster unique to space.

They hung silently in the air, like a sudden, frozen rain of crystal.

Then, under the traction of an invisible force, this "rain" began to drift slowly toward the Burial Son's broken body.

The moment the first fragment touched the skin on the Burial Son's chest—

"Urgh... Ah—!!!"

The Burial Son, who had been like a dead object, suddenly erupted with a broken and shrill scream from his throat!

His body, as if struck by an invisible, ten-thousand-jun heavy hammer, violently arched upward!

Sss—!!!

A piercing screech, like boiling oil meeting water, exploded loudly!

A cloud of grayish-white mist exploded at the point of contact!

The fragments of the Void Divine Body, as if alive, transformed into flowing, translucent "mercury," crazily burrowing and infiltrating into the Burial Son's pores, wounds, and skin texture!

The moment these two completely different, essentially opposing Physiques made contact, they unleashed the most primitive and cruel slaughter!

The Void Divine Body's Origin lies in "Void" and "Inclusion," seeking to contain, transform, and devour everything.

The Burial Dao Divine Body's Origin lies in "Death" and "Burial," seeking to end, annihilate, and bury everything.

"Void" and "Death," "Inclusion" and "Burial"—they are natural, mutually negating enemies!

"Crack! Crr-ack-ack-ack—!"

A scalp-numbing sound of shattering exploded densely from within the Burial Son's body!

Spiderweb-like cracks spread across the surface of his body at a terrifying speed, instantly covering him from head to toe!

His body swelled like it was being inflated, his skin stretched until it was transparent, revealing two violent energies crazily colliding and tearing at each other beneath—one was a stream of Void Qi attempting to devour everything, the other was gray-black Death Qi permeating with the meaning of finality.

Black blood no longer flowed, but instead violently "sprayed" out from every crack, carving shrill arcs in the air.

The blood was mixed with the fluorescent light of his shattered Divine Soul, as if his entire existence was being squeezed and scattered along with the blood.

The Burial Son's face was completely twisted.

Intense pain?

No, with his Divine Soul shattered to this extent, the sensation of pain had long since blurred.

What was intertwined on his face at this moment was a deeper, more terrifying "feeling"—it was the experience of existence itself being brutally torn apart, a "disintegration" experience beyond pain, brought about by two fundamental Laws using his Physical Body as a battlefield for destructive warfare.

His limbs convulsed, his fingers dug into the flesh of his palms without him realizing it, the veins on his neck bulged like horned dragons, his bloodshot eyeballs were almost popping out, and his lips were chewed to shreds.

But he was enduring.

Enduring stubbornly!

He did not attempt to re-seal his Sea of Consciousness, nor did he mobilize his remaining strength to resist the two violent torrents within his body that were enough to crush mountains.

He "entrusted" everything of himself—his broken Physical Body, his shattered Divine Soul, his final consciousness—without reservation, completely, to the Ancestor coldly overlooking from below the rift valley.

Like a sacrifice offering itself upon the altar, waiting for the final judgment: whether it would be Nirvana and Rebirth, or Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering.

The Lord of Burials remained unhurried. Its movements carried an ancient, ritualistic rhythm.

Its rotting claws traced the first trajectory in the Void Realm. The trajectory did not dissipate, but transformed into a complex, ancient, dark green seal emitting eerie Death Qi.

"Suppress."

The seal fell, accurately branded onto the center of the Burial Son's brow—exactly at the center of the vortex where the two forces collided most violently and were on the verge of exploding.

Sss—!

Like a red-hot branding iron plunged into ice water, violent white steam billowed! The Burial Son's bloated body suddenly stalled, and the cracks on his body stopped spreading.

But those two forces did not subside; they were merely forcibly "held down" by a more ancient and majestic power, still crazily wrestling beneath the seal, emitting dull, heart-stopping, rumbling roars, like two Vicious Beasts locked by iron chains, growling and crashing inside a cage.

The second seal fell, and the rock layer at the bottom of the rift valley roared and trembled, as if the earth itself had been stirred into some kind of resonance.

A layer of grayish-white, solidified halo emerged on the Burial Son's body surface. This was the Origin of his Burial Dao Divine Body, stimulated by the Ancestor's seal, "awakening" from near-death, beginning to actively and greedily devour the fragments of the Void Divine Body that had invaded his body.

Wherever the grayish-white halo passed, the translucent Void power was "buried" and annihilated like melting snow.

But this instead provoked an even more intense "backlash" from the fragments of the Void Divine Body!

These fragments no longer waited passively to be devoured; they were like a swarm of enraged bees, beginning to actively move along the Burial Son's Meridians, blood vessels, and bone crevices, launching a reverse, fatal erosion toward the deeper parts of his body, toward the core of his remaining vitality—his heart and the fragments of his Sea of Consciousness!

Wherever they passed, Meridians were stretched and twisted inch by inch, and bones emitted groans of being unable to bear the load.

"Pfft—!"

The Burial Son spat out a large mouthful of blood. This blood was no longer just black, but mixed with fragments of internal organs and tiny, eerie, translucent glimmers—this was a sign that his physical tissues were being "assimilated" by the Void power!

From his seven orifices, black blood gushed out, carrying the faint fluorescent light of his Divine Soul.

His aura continued to weaken at an alarming speed; that last wisp of vitality, like a candle flame in a gale, flickered uncertainly, ready to be extinguished completely at any moment.

The third seal fell, branded onto his chest, forcibly protecting that spark of heart-fire about to be extinguished.

The fourth seal was branded onto his Dantian, attempting to stabilize the energy vortex about to collapse.

The fifth seal was suppressed onto his spine, maintaining this body so it would not fall apart completely...

The Lord of Burials' gaze was deep; its claws rose and fell without pause.

Seal after seal, containing the ancient true meaning of the Burial Dao and profound mysteries, like the most precise surgical scalpel, or the heaviest forging hammer used when crafting a divine weapon, were branded continuously onto the key nodes of the Burial Son's body.

Twelve seals.

The Lord of Burials completed the task in one go, striking out twelve ancient seals, deeply branding them onto the Burial Son's fragmented body and remaining soul.

However, it was still not enough!

The Burial Son's body was still trembling violently under that terrifying load that exceeded his limits.

He was like a bow pulled to the extreme, its body covered in cracks, its string emitting a mournful sound of being on the verge of snapping.

He was also like a ball of water and fire forcibly kneaded together, boiling and steaming in intense opposition, maintaining a dangerous balance that could explode completely at any moment.

He hung there, in a bizarre state of neither life nor death.

Was it the darkest torment before Nirvana and Rebirth?

Or the final phantom before falling completely into eternal damnation?

In the rift valley, Death Qi permeated, and only the eerie green light on that bronze fragment flickered silently, coldly watching everything.