52: Chapter 52 The General's Transformation

Wang Kun's charge carried a crazed momentum, as if he intended to crush the very earth beneath his feet!

His five-meter-tall Eight-Armed Corpse Demon form was like an out-of-control heavy tank; wherever he passed, whether it was fleeing friendly soldiers or rampaging fierce ghosts, they were all brutally knocked aside and crushed! His eight rotting arms waved frantically, creating high-pitched whistles as they tore through the air. Dark green corpse poison steamed from his pores like mist, turning his surroundings into a forbidden zone for life.

"Lin Chen! Die!"

The roar shook the dust off the city walls, sending it fluttering down. That massive shadow, carrying a nauseating stench and a violent madness that sought to destroy everything, rapidly approached! On the city walls, some survivors with weaker mental fortitude already felt their legs go weak, nearly collapsing to the ground. Even Su Qingyu subconsciously clenched her fists, her breathing quickening slightly.

Facing this terrifying impact, Lin Chen only tilted his head slightly, as if he were examining a flawed product.

His brow furrowed, and his face showed none of the tension expected before a battle, only a type of... disgust that was pure to the extreme.

"Tsk," he clicked his tongue, his voice clearly reaching the ears of Qin Weiwei and the surrounding defenders. "I say, before you turned into this ghostly appearance, didn't you look in a mirror? Or rather..." He paused, the mockery in his tone almost solidifying, "Do you think you can scare me to death with this face of yours just to save some nether talismans?"

As soon as these words were spoken, a dead silence fell over the city walls. Even the deafening sound of Wang Kun's charging footsteps below seemed to stutter for a moment.

Everyone was stunned by Lin Chen's peculiar perspective. With a great enemy before them and life on the line, what he cared about was... the opponent's ugliness?

Qin Weiwei even forgot to struggle, her mouth hanging open as if she were getting to know Lin Chen for the first time.

"You're looking for death!!" Wang Kun was completely enraged, his crimson eyes almost dripping blood. When had he ever suffered such humiliation? Especially from Lin Chen, the person he dreamed of trampling under his feet! His charging speed increased by another thirty percent. A thick arm covered in pustules and bone spurs was raised high, aimed directly at the figure on the city wall that he hated to the bone!

Seeing that the arm containing terrifying power was about to hit the city wall, Lin Chen acted as if he didn't see it at all. Instead, he leisurely turned his head and casually ordered a Yin Soldier Centurion standing by his side:

"It's too much of an eyesore; it's affecting my mood for watching the fireworks. Pass down the order. Let the brothers give him a reminder so he has some self-awareness."

"As you command, my Lord." soul fire flickered in the Yin Soldier Centurion's hollow eye sockets as he cupped his fists and took the order.

The next moment, just before Wang Kun's arm could touch the city wall, all the lined-up Yin Soldiers on the Fortress, regardless of rank, stepped forward simultaneously in a unified movement, acting as a single entity.

They did not clash weapons or roar; they simply opened their "mouths" composed of pure Yin energy and soul power. With a cold, mechanical, emotionless, yet strangely resonant shout that spread across the entire battlefield, they issued a soul-searching question to the violently charging Wang Kun below:

"Eight-Armed Corpse Demon—!"

The sound waves were like a tide, carrying the unique frigid ghostly aura of the Yin Soldiers, instantly drowning out some of the noise on the battlefield.

Wang Kun's forward momentum slowed slightly, seemingly dazed by this sudden and inexplicable shout.

Immediately after, the Yin Soldiers' second shout followed, louder and more unified, with a certainty as if proclaiming a truth:

"Ugly—Beyond—Comparison—!"

"..."

"..."

An extremely bizarre scene appeared on the battlefield.

On one side was a hellish scene of ten thousand ghosts devouring souls and flesh flying everywhere; on the other side, on the city walls, thousands of Yin Soldiers were expressionlessly mocking the enemy commander for being ugly in unison.

The contrast was so great and absurd that many Thousand-Faced Cultists and ghost-mutated soldiers who were struggling for their lives froze for a moment, almost being killed by the fierce ghosts beside them.

As the target of the mockery, Wang Kun's massive corpse demon body suddenly froze in place.

What did he hear?

Ugly beyond comparison?

These damn Yin Soldiers, these lackeys of Lin Chen, actually... actually called him ugly?!

Towering rage mixed with an indescribable sense of absurdity and humiliation instantly crushed what little remained of his reason! It felt worse than being killed!

"Argh!!! Lin Chen! I'm going to tear you into ten thousand pieces!!" Wang Kun let out a roar that didn't sound human. His eight arms frantically beat his chest, making a muffled sound like a drum. Dark green fluid splashed from the ruptured pustules, adding to the disgust.

He gave up on attacking the city wall directly and instead turned like a crazed bull, using his shoulders and head to frantically ram the Fortress's wall, which was shimmering with a ghostly light!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Each impact made a dull, thunderous sound. Runes flickered on the city wall, which trembled slightly, and even small cracks appeared! One could see how terrifying his strength was!

"Lord!" Su Qingyu couldn't help but cry out, looking at Lin Chen with worry. Once the city wall was broken, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Lin Chen remained as steady as Mount Tai. He even had time to pat Qin Weiwei's cold cheek, signaling her to "watch the show."

"Incompetent rage," he snorted softly, then seemed to remember something as a malicious light flashed in his eyes. "However, just a verbal reminder seems to have a poor effect. I need to give him something more direct."

Saying that, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Instantly, a giant transparent screen made of pure nether talisman energy abruptly appeared above the battlefield, facing the crazed Wang Kun and clearly visible to everyone on the battlefield who could still look up.

On the screen, two giant pictures were displayed side by side.

On the left was a photo of Wang Kun before the apocalypse—a young man wearing a designer suit, his hair slicked back, his face barely considered handsome, and his eyes carrying the arrogance and flamboyance unique to a second-generation rich kid.

On the right was his current real-time image—a five-meter-tall rotting body, eight twisted and waving deformed arms, a face full of pustules dripping with foul fluid, and crimson eyes filled with only madness and the desire to kill.

Below this sharp comparison, there was a line of large words written in striking blood-colored nether script, like a final judgment:

[Time is a butcher's knife, but for you, it used a dragon-slaying blade!]

"Pfft—"

It was unknown which lucky person on the wall couldn't hold it in and was the first to laugh out loud. Although they immediately covered their mouth tightly, that uncontrollable laughter was like a fuse.

"Hahahaha!"

"Dragon-slaying blade... Hahaha, it's so vivid!"

"He looked like a person before, but now he looks like a ghost!"

The originally tense and oppressive atmosphere on the city wall was instantly broken by this extreme mockery and contrast, erupting into a roar of laughter. Even the soul fires in the eye sockets of those usually serious Yin Soldiers flickered violently a few times.

This laughter was like countless steel needles, stabbing fiercely into Wang Kun's ears and into his already twisted heart.

"You... you... Pfft—!"

He pointed at the giant comparison image in the sky, his whole body trembling violently. Under the attack of anger on his heart, a mouthful of black blood mixed with organ fragments and a thick stench of death suddenly sprayed from his mouth, turning into a foul mist of blood!

Extreme anger, towering killing intent, and that nowhere-to-be-vented humiliation that almost ignited his soul did not weaken after this mouthful of black blood was spat out; instead, it burned even more intensely!

He suddenly raised his head and stared fixedly at Lin Chen. That gaze could no longer be described as venomous; it was a hatred that could not be washed away even by the waters of the three rivers and five seas!

"Lin... Chen...!" He squeezed these two words out from between his teeth, his voice as hoarse as a broken bellows.

He stopped ramming the city wall and instead condensed all his strength, all his hatred, and all his madness. His eight arms no longer waved wildly but instead formed seals in front of him with a strange rhythm. The dark green corpse poison steaming around him suddenly contracted and then boiled violently, its color beginning to change to a deeper, more dangerous dark purple!

A terrifying aura several times stronger than before, filled with destruction and misfortune, began to pour out of his body frantically!

He was completely enraged; regardless of everything, he wanted to use his ultimate power. Even if they perished together, he would drag the man on the city wall who brought him endless humiliation into hell!

Lin Chen looked at Wang Kun below, whose aura had suddenly surged and who seemed to be brewing some terrifying attack. The playfulness on his face finally faded a bit, replaced by a trace of cold interest.

"Oh? Going to use an ultimate move?" He raised an eyebrow slightly. Instead of being afraid, he seemed to have been waiting for this, and he lightly moved his wrist.

"Now this is getting interesting."