Chapter 248: Run

Ji Tianrui moved her feet, breaking the hand bone that was pulling her legs. This hand bone had become much more fragile than at the beginning, and its strength had also been reduced by more than half.

Jizhao, arises from nature, determined by the heart.

The illusion's influence on Ji Tianrui became smaller, which meant the Emperor's state of mind—had become weaker.

She looked up at dozens of feet away.

Since the Mount Huashan Sect incident, Ji Tianrui had been investigating Li Miao. The plans she laid out in Huguang and the Miao Frontier were also testing Li Miao's nature.

Coupled with the information Yun Zelin left in the Ming Sect, collected over these fifteen years, she thought she had figured out Li Miao's nature.

Aloof, ruthless, casual, self-centered.

And... laziness?

Before today, Ji Tianrui thought so.

But now, the trait hidden under Li Miao's easygoing appearance for fifteen years was finally displayed in front of Ji Tianrui.

Madness.

Li Miao had been lying low in the Embroidered Uniform Guard for over twenty years, only walking the Jianghu after cultivating to this realm; logically, he should be a cautious person.

Now, Ji Tianrui roughly understood Li Miao's nature.

He is a martial arts maniac, but he disdains "low-level" fighting.

Because he is proud.

His silence was not because of "fear." But because of "expectation."

If you want to fight, you have to fight with the strongest person in the world. Only such a struggle could make his blood boil.

Ji Tianrui drew her sword and moved forward, walking toward the battle circle.

It was already the Hour of the Tiger.

The Emperor broke free from the arm Li Miao was holding, enduring the twitching pain in his brow, kicked Li Miao away with his leg, and took the opportunity to withdraw rapidly while he hadn't killed his way over again, panting heavily.

He didn't understand.

Why, why on earth.

He was clearly four-path integration, clearly far stronger than Li Miao, and even stronger than the three of Li Miao, the Jianwen Emperor, and Ji Tianrui combined.

Why was he the one who fell into a disadvantage!

The illusion couldn't shake him, the moves couldn't repel him, and the injuries seemed not to have the slightest impact on him.

No, perhaps there was an impact.

Every time he left a huge wound on Li Miao, the Emperor prayed secretly in his heart.

"Don't get up again."

"Fall down! Fall down!"

"Please... please..."

But the heavier Li Miao's injuries were, the more ferocious his offensive became! As if it wasn't him who was injured, but himself!

Every time he repelled Li Miao, he would be met with an even more violent onslaught.

Even the Emperor himself didn't realize that his moves were far from their initial power.

Because he was afraid.

He was afraid of Li Miao's madness, where the heavier the injury, the fiercer the offensive, to the point that every time he had a chance to hurt Li Miao, he would subconsciously reduce the force of his own strikes.

The Emperor looked at Li Miao vigilantly, his lips forming an arc, swallowing a mouthful of saliva secretly.

But this time, Li Miao was not in a hurry to attack.

He stood twenty feet away, slowly exhaling a breath.

"Whoosh—"

He suddenly raised his head, scaring the Emperor into raising his arms to defend, and taking half a step back.

"Hehe."

Li Miao laughed hoarsely.

He was bright red all over, steaming with white smoke, and most of the minor wounds were slowly healing.

But Li Miao did not choose to grow back his broken left arm.

The time it takes to reattach a severed limb and regenerate flesh and blood is incomparable, and he didn't have enough true energy to grow his left arm back now.

It is true that true energy is endless after cultivating "Sumeru." But the total amount of true energy will gradually decrease as the meridians and dantian are damaged.

So Li Miao simply sealed the wound on his left arm with proliferating flesh and blood, waiting until the struggle was over to cut off the proliferating part and then grow the arm back.

"Almost there."

Li Miao smiled.

"Almost, time to end it."

He looked at the Emperor, scanning him up and down.

The Emperor's injuries were much lighter than his.

But Li Miao didn't want to fight him anymore; the Emperor was getting weaker and weaker, more and more afraid, and Li Miao was also feeling more and more bored.

Such a struggle could no longer make him excited.

So he said with a smile.

"Your Majesty, run."

"Run."

He approached the Emperor slowly.

With the weakening of the Emperor's heart and mind and the accumulation of injuries, the blood pool under his feet had become much shallower, only accumulating a thin layer on the ground, barely able to submerge the surface of his feet.

Every step Li Miao took made a sticky water sound.

"Run, run."

"You don't want to die, do you?"

"You are about to die—do you know what death is?"

Twenty feet.

"Death means you will become a pool of meaningless rotten meat; power, martial arts, status, all will leave you."

"You will never be able to say another word, nor will you be able to see anything ever again."

"Three days later, you will swell up; five days later, you will collapse."

"Finally, you will become a pitch-black, oily-shining piece of garbage."

Fifteen feet.

"Your Majesty, tell me, are there ghosts in this world?"

"How many people have you killed? How many Heaven-Men have you eaten?"

"After you die, will they come to find you?"

"Will they, cut open your belly, pry open your eyelids, tear open your tendons, and return all the pain you inflicted on them to you?"

Ten feet.

"When you killed others, do you remember their eyes?"

"Think about it, do you remember?"

"Did they shed tears? Did their pupils dilate? How many times did they blink? When they looked at you before they died, how many bloodshot eyes were there? After they died, did mosquitoes crawl onto their eyeballs?"

"What about the opened wounds? Were they red or yellow? How much blood flowed?"

"What about the mouth, were the lips trembling? What did they say to you, was it begging for mercy?"

"Or were they turning into vengeful ghosts—demanding your life?"

Five feet.

The Emperor's face was already full of cold sweat, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, his footsteps moving slightly.

Li Miao laughed out loud.

"You're afraid, right?"

His whispering voice echoed in the Emperor's ears like a ghost.

"Death."

Accompanied by Li Miao's description, this concept gradually became concrete, like a pitch-black, withered claw, grabbing the Emperor's legs, slowly winding up, scraping a harsh buzzing sound on his spine.

And then it drilled into his chest, gripping his heart.

Run, run.

Run, run.

Run, run.

If you don't run, you're going to die.

You are the Emperor, you shouldn't die here, you should be immortal.

If you die here, you're finished.

Run... run...

Run.

Run!!!!!

"Ah!!!!"

The Emperor suddenly let out a shrill scream, turned around with incomparable speed, erupted with speed far exceeding his peak, and fled toward the outside of the Xiaoling Mausoleum.

"Heh, coward."

A disdainful cold snort from Li Miao came from behind.

The Emperor's eyes suddenly cleared, and then they were occupied by despair.

He made a stupid choice.

Li Miao didn't attack because his injuries were already insufficient to support him to continue fighting, so he stopped to heal.

If he continued to fight, he might have won.

But he gave up his only chance to win, turned around, and exposed his defenseless back to Li Miao.

Left arm, right arm, both felt a sharp pain.

The Emperor's vision went black.

Blood splashed on the ground, and the illusion dissipated instantly.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 249 =====

(End of chapter)