Chapter 486: The Dust Settles and the Twin-Lotus Technique

The Yin-Eroding Ghoul in the cage turned into a pool of bloody water, sizzling and bubbling incessantly, but it never took human form again; the ghostly light in the Rust Ghost's eye sockets dissipated, and as its skull fell to the ground, its other bones collapsed as well, leaving only a tattered cloak draped over them.

Without the Demon Lord, they lost the meaning of their existence; they would depart just as they had arrived.

"The Demon Lord is dead?"

Adao looked at the motionless Demon Lord in disbelief, his tone filled with incredulity.

"The Demon Lord is dead..."

Like a murmur, and yet seemingly uncertain, under Zhanli's repeated affirmations, Adao's emotions gradually shifted into joy amidst his constant self-talk.

"The Demon Lord is dead!"

Ignoring Zhanli's obstruction, Adao endured the pain in his body, helped Zhanli up, and shouted to the battlefield below the steps:

"The Demon Lord is dead! No need to fight anymore! The Demon Lord is dead! No need to fight anymore!..."

The childish voice repeated over and over, like a horn of victory, reaching every corner of the Demon Palace.

"It's over! It's all over! No need to fight anymore..."

The final sentence was like a mutter to himself, as if he had exhausted all his strength; as soon as the words fell, he could no longer support himself, collapsed to the ground, and burst into tears.

It's over...

Finally, it's all over...

This journey...

It was too difficult...

From looking at each other in dismay at the start to throwing away their armor and weapons at the end, none of the Demon Race soldiers were as dejected as one might have imagined.

Although they were of the same clan and origin, times had changed; if one were to truly analyze it, they had long since severed ties with the royal family, and now they were merely ordinary members of the Demon Race, just like the common folk in the mortal world.

They could not transcend their class, nor did they care who served as the Demon Lord; all they wanted was a stable life.

It was just that these small needs were a luxury in the Demon Realm.

Now that the Demon Lord had perished, these members of the Demon Race felt a sense of relief instead—they no longer had to keep their lives on the edge of a blade...

There were those who were just "trying to make a living," and naturally, there were those who were loyal and devoted.

Upon hearing the news of the Demon Lord's death, Guihua let out a wail, dragging her remaining half-body with her hands as she crawled toward the great hall in a twisted manner.

My Lord... My Lord...

Even as her fingers became a bloody mess with tendons and bones exposed, Guihua did not pause in the slightest, crawling arduously all the way, blood staining the long steps.

My Lord... My Lord...

On the pitch-black floor tiles, a trail of blood mixed with bits of flesh and viscera extended from beneath her, a truly tragic sight.

But there were too many steps, and she was already a dying husk; after struggling for a long time, she ultimately failed to crawl to the Demon Lord's side.

Guihua died, dying on the long steps of Yinxu Hall; she was only seven steps away from the Demon Lord, but she could never reach him again.

At the moment of death, Guihua's outstretched hand reached toward the Demon Lord, as if by doing so, she could touch him.

Yet this mere distance became a regret Guihua could never overcome...

Bao Yan's body began to deconstruct, like burnt paper ash, drifting into the air piece by piece.

Guihua was the same.

The Demon Race was born against the heavens and was not tolerated by the world; once they died, they would vanish into thin air.

Watching the Demon Lord dissipate bit by bit until he completely vanished, Long Qi finally let out a long sigh of relief and relaxed.

Pain instantly swept through his entire body, and Long Qi fell to the ground unsteadily, yet he did not let go of Lingxiang in his arms, fearing she might be harmed again.

"It's over, Lingxiang, it's all over..."

Long Qi lowered his head to Lingxiang's ear, speaking so softly as if afraid to startle her, but Lingxiang gave no response.

"Lingxiang? Lingxiang?" Long Qi then sensed something was wrong, his heartstrings tightening once more.

Lingxiang's lips were deathly pale, her breath was as thin as a gossamer thread, and her body was ice-cold; there was not a trace of vitality.

"Uncle-Master Chengxin! Uncle-Master Donghui!" Long Qi panicked. "Chiyanzi!..." He shouted as best he could for everyone he could think of who might be able to save Lingxiang.

The crowd hurriedly gathered around, only Sutong stood on the periphery, like a bystander.

Chiyanzi was the first to reach for Lingxiang's pulse; among those present, no one's medical skills were superior to his, for he was, after all, the direct disciple of Tumi Xianzi.

However, just by touching Lingxiang's pulse, Chiyanzi broke out in a cold sweat.

"The oil is exhausted and the lamp is dry!"

What? How could this be?

Once these words were spoken, everyone was dumbfounded, and Adao was so frightened he began to cry.

Although Lingxiang was severely injured and had lost blood, it was not fatal, and she had no internal injuries; how could she have reached the point where the oil was exhausted and the lamp was dry?

"It is the Suspended Thread Technique," Sutong suddenly said.

Chiyanzi could not spare the time to ask who Sutong was, nor could he investigate why she knew of the Suspended Thread Technique; Chiyanzi only wanted to save Lingxiang now.

"I have seen my master use the Suspended Thread to save people, but it is merely to distribute some Qi to sustain a person's life; even if Junior Sister's cultivation is not high, it should not have reached a life-threatening level."

"But if the Huitian Pill is used as a catalyst, then it is life-threatening," Sutong said, looking at Long Qi.

Chiyanzi did not understand at first, because Tumi Xianzi had once told him that the Huitian Pill could not bring the dead back to life, but in a flash, he understood.

A mortal's Inner Elixir is obscure; once they die, the soul and the spirit separate—the soul goes to the Netherworld, and the spirit returns to the earth.

At this time, the Huitian Pill can serve as an Inner Elixir, its efficacy being nothing more than to calm the soul and stabilize the spirit; once human Qi is injected, it can bring the dead back to life.

The Suspended Thread Technique is that breath of Qi, but to save a dead person, one requires all the Qi of a living person.

Qi is the thread that binds the soul and spirit, connecting the two and coordinating the physical body; when a person dies, the Qi vanishes, and when the Qi vanishes, the soul and spirit disperse.

What the elders often say, "A person lives by a single breath," actually refers to this meaning.

But where did the Huitian Pill come from?

Associating this with the strange fragrance from earlier, Chiyanzi was suddenly struck with terror.

Could it be...

Could Chiyanzi have simply known that Tumi Xianzi had been refining this Huitian Pill, and after Tumi Xianzi emerged from the Cloud Dream Secret Realm, he only learned that she had succeeded in her Spirit-Refining, but had never actually seen it?

Could the strange fragrance from just a moment ago be the Huitian Pill? And who did the Junior Martial Sister save?

Chiyanzi looked back at Sutong, then followed her gaze to look at Long Qi, and suddenly realized the truth.

And after seeing the looks in their eyes, although Long Qi did not yet understand what "Huitian Pill" or "Suspended Thread Technique" meant, he understood that Lingxiang had become like this in order to save him.

Once he associated this with the time he had fallen into Chaos, Long Qi suddenly understood—yes, he had clearly died at that time, yet he had miraculously come back to life.

No, it was no miracle; it was Lingxiang who saved him!

All methods in this world require a price, just as buying and selling requires silver.

To bring a dead person back to life, what kind of price must be paid?

"A life for a life... so that was what Master meant by those words back then..."

Long Qi's pupils constricted; he understood completely now that Lingxiang had used her own life as the price to trade for his chance to live again.

"Save her!" Long Qi gripped Chiyanzi's sleeve and begged, but Chiyanzi shook his head; he truly had no way at all.

When Tumi Xianzi taught Chiyanzi the Outer Alchemy Art, she once said that although the effectiveness of the Outer Alchemy Art was open to debate, the moment the pill formed in the furnace, its rules were already set.

This rule derived from the Pill itself was absolute; there was no way to defy it, not even for the Sages of the Thirty-Three Heavens.

In other words, if the Huitian Pill supplemented by the Suspended Thread Technique meant a certain death, then there was not the slightest room for maneuver.

Long Qi's eyes turned red, and he hurriedly turned to Donghui Zhenren, his trembling voice appearing exceptionally helpless.

"The Langhuan Pavilion houses countless scrolls; Martial Uncle must have a way to save her, right?"

Donghui Zhenren, however, only helplessly closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.

Even though he was in charge of the Langhuan Pavilion and the scrolls stored within were vast and numerous, he bore heavy responsibilities for the sect and had never settled his mind to read the ancient volumes.

Long Qi looked toward Chengxin Zhenren, but the latter also looked away in pain.

"Is there really no way at all..."