576: Chapter 576 You Who Personally Pierced the Longsword into Her Heart

Dust slowly settled, revealing a terrifying, bottomless crater spanning a hundred zhang.

In the center of the crater, that mass of purple-black humanoid flesh was already unrecognizable—like a pile of mud that had been repeatedly hammered and then barely stuck back together.

Its torso was twisted, its limbs bent at unnatural angles, and half of its skull was deeply sunken. Sticky, purple-black mist that seemed to possess a life of its own continuously seeped out, struggling to repair the mangled body.

The speed of the mist's repair was noticeably slower. Its color was also much duller and thinner, no longer as thick and profound as it had been at the beginning.

But it still moved.

Accompanied by the teeth-grinding sound of flesh and mist rubbing and reassembling, it stood up shakily from the wreckage at the bottom of the crater.

Its not-yet-fully-formed head tilted to one side, and a newly formed eyeball struggled to rotate within the rotting flesh—finally, it locked onto Wufa.

It bared its teeth. The flesh there had not yet healed, revealing the churning darkness beneath. It pulled a smile into an indescribable shape.

This smile, embedded on a half-rotted face, was more hideous than any evil ghost, more malicious than any curse—instantly igniting the last shred of reason in Wufa's blood.

"Now," it spoke, its voice hoarse and harsh due to its damaged throat, "it's Mo Qingyan's turn."

This name, like an ice pick at absolute zero, pierced through all of Wufa's rage and madness without warning.

"Boom—!"

The golden lightning that was surging and roaring around Wufa suddenly stalled—as if frozen instantly by an invisible force.

This destructive power, capable of shaking mountains, did not dissipate; instead, it collided and backlashed even more frantically inside his rigid body!

His movements completely froze, like a thunder statue that had instantly lost its Soul, fixed in place just three steps away from the Lord of Annihilation.

On his fist hanging in mid-air, the lightning snakes that had originally been tamed and coiled lost their guidance and began to lose control, running wild—scurrying and exploding chaotically on his own arm, burning out charred and curling wounds.

He was completely unaware.

The Lord of Annihilation laughed silently.

This smile carried a kind of all-knowing, cruel satisfaction.

It had found it.

It had finally, completely found that softest, most fragile, most blood-drenched fatal weakness.

It was not in a hurry.

Like a cat that had cornered its prey and was enjoying the other's desperate struggle, it began to walk toward Wufa, step by step, slowly.

With every step it took, the purple-black mist dissipating beneath its feet seemed to be attracted and gathered back onto its body—its broken form solidified a bit, and its aura recovered a sliver.

It was using Wufa's pain and silence to "recharge" itself.

"Your fiancée." Its voice became calm, even carrying a strange rhythm as if recounting the past.

"Mo Qingyan."

"The girl who followed behind you since childhood, calling out 'Brother Wufa' at every step.

The girl who sweated alongside you in the Martial Arts Arena, with bright eyes amidst the crossing of sword lights.

The girl who, under the sky full of stars, blushed as she placed her hand in your palm and made the vow, 'Follow each other in life and death, never to fail one another.'"

It had already walked in front of Wufa, close enough to see its own broken and reshaped terrifying face reflected in Wufa's pupils.

It was close enough that the purple-black mist seeping from its wounds, carrying a cold and dead aura, was almost touching the golden arcs of electricity jumping on Wufa's face.

It slowly raised a hand—this hand had just condensed from the mist, its fingertips still carrying inhuman coldness—and lightly tapped Wufa's chest, the location of his heart.

"When you drove the sword into her heart..." Its voice dropped abruptly, like a whisper between lovers, yet like the hissing of a poisonous snake, "she didn't even dodge."

Wufa's breathing stopped abruptly.

The sounds of the entire world seemed to be instantly drained away, leaving only the roar of his heart pounding frantically in his chest, almost about to explode.

His pupils contracted sharply—shrinking into two needle-sized, desperate black dots filled with horror and excruciating pain.

"She knew that wasn't you."

The Lord of Annihilation's voice changed again.

It was no longer the hollow, echoing proclamation from before, nor the deliberately inciting malice—but became exceptionally gentle, slow, and even carried a trace of... pity?

A deeper kind of cruelty that stated the most ruthless facts in the calmest, most irrefutable tone.

"She was the only one who saw it. When everyone else was screaming, fleeing, and crying, 'The Second Prince has gone mad,' 'Help'... only she stood where she was."

"When your sword tip, carrying a murderous intent even you yourself were unfamiliar with, was pointed at her—she did not retreat, did not block, and did not even show a shred of fear."

"She just looked into your eyes like that."

"She wasn't looking at the hand that held the sword, not at the hideousness that might have been on your face, not at the power that was controlling you."

"She was looking at the deepest part of these eyes—the real you, who was imprisoned in boundless darkness, silently collapsing, screaming madly, yet unable to move."

"She saw it."

The Lord of Annihilation's finger moved away from Wufa's chest and slowly raised, pointing toward the broken and gloomy sky. Its movement was as gentle as if it were tracing some distant phantom.

"So, she did not dodge."

"She stood there, and even... leaned her body forward slightly. Then—she opened her arms."

Wufa's eyelashes trembled violently, as if a scorching hot iron had been pressed into the deepest part of his Soul.

"—Not to embrace the sword you thrust. But... to embrace you."

In the Lord of Annihilation's voice, that feigned gentleness could almost no longer be maintained.

A suppressed, cruel pleasure was seeping out from every word.

"The last complete action she made before she died was to open her arms. Like an embrace... waiting for a lover's return after a long separation."

"When she died, the corners of her mouth were curved."

It lowered its head, leaning even closer—almost forehead to forehead with Wufa.

In its newly formed eyeball, there was no playfulness, mockery, or malice at this moment. There remained only a kind of crystal-clear, pure-to-the-extreme—cruelty.

This was a cruelty that transcended hatred and torment. It was a precise and elegant slow-slicing performed after understanding all of the opponent's weaknesses.

It was no longer just harming Wufa's body or destroying his will.

It was using the gentlest tone and the clearest images to grind that girl named "Mo Qingyan," along with all the warmth, vows, and future between her and Wufa, as well as the trust and love that pierced through the Soul when she died—all into the finest powder.

Then, mixing this powder with Wufa's own despair and regret, it stuffed it back into his already riddled Soul.

"Didn't you hear the last sentence she said clearly?"

The Lord of Annihilation's voice was as low as a sigh. Yet every word was louder than a thunderclap, smashing heavily onto Wufa's eardrums, his heart, and the deepest part of his Soul.

"'Wufa, does it hurt?'"

"Her life was fading rapidly, blood stained your hands, her body temperature was turning cold bit by bit... yet the thing she wanted to ask most was... whether you hurt or not."

"Even in death, she was still feeling sorry for you."

"Even in death—she only cared about you, the one who personally drove the longsword into her heart."

"Even in death—she still believed that it wasn't you."

"Even in death—"