Chapter 295: Shattered Ugliness

On the southern slope of Meishencheng lies a cemetery, its environment beautiful, scenery picturesque, and views delightful; standing atop the slope offers a panoramic view of Meishencheng.

The slope is clean and dry, with air flowing freely from north to south; rows of graves are hidden among low shrubs, and wind blowing from north to south can dry a fresh corpse into a mummy within days.

This place, besides being a cemetery, is also a habitat for undead creatures; some skeletons and zombies working nearby return here each morning to rest, avoid the sun's soul-purifying rays, and take a bath.

The skeletons and zombies of Meishencheng are the cleanest corpses across all planes—so clean they could be displayed indoors.

As dawn broke, Liu arrived at the cemetery entrance carrying a clean deer-skin towel, linen cloth, leather-bladder sheep-oil brush, and other tools, waiting for the returning undead.

The name "Liu" is strange—not like a normal person's name—because it wasn't a name at all, but a nickname others randomly called her, which eventually stuck; even she didn't know what it meant.

Whenever someone uttered that sound, she knew they were calling her.

But few people willingly sought her out; only when bullying her did they shout that word. Yet as she grew older and her appearance grew uglier, even those who enjoyed bullying her disappeared.

Seeing her, whether adult or child, would cause them to flee; adults would be more discreet, merely quickening their pace, while children would scream, cry, and run away in terror.

Sometimes, frightening children would earn her a beating with a large club, forcing her to cover her head and flee.

Let us examine this grotesque appearance: her face is crooked, right cheek higher than left, causing her eyes to lie off a straight line; her forehead and mouth are equally asymmetrical—on her face, nothing is symmetrical.

This also caused her teeth to protrude abnormally and her lips to leak air.

Beyond her ugly face, her skin is rough, pores coarse, joints swollen and deformed, arms long and legs short; from afar, she resembles the legendary stitched monster, terrifying ordinary people.

The only thing remotely pleasing on her ugly face is perhaps her clear eyes.

In the distance, shadowy figures moved slowly and stiffly through the morning light, soon arriving at the cemetery entrance; seeing these "people," Liu smiled—these "people" were the only ones who saw her smile without striking her.

"Good morning," a skeleton shuffled up to Liu, who greeted it warmly, regardless of whether the skeleton understood, then stepped on the leather bladder beneath her foot.

That large leather bladder, clamped between two wooden boards, released a burst of air when pressed.

Liu held the hose, its tip aimed at the skeleton's bones; the high-pressure air jetted into the joints, crevices, and pores, blasting away dirt, grass seeds, moisture, and grime until the bones were spotless.

Watching a filthy skeleton become immaculate under her hands, Liu's entire face lit up in a smile—making her look even uglier.

But it didn't matter; the skeletons and zombies before her wouldn't mock or beat her—they simply walked silently into the cemetery.

Liu didn't mind; this was her favorite job. She continued blasting the second skeleton, then the third, until the next one before her was a zombie.

Cleaning a zombie was far more troublesome than cleaning a skeleton: blow-dry the stains and moisture, scrub stubborn grime with a brush, wipe dry with the deer-skin towel, apply sheep oil, rub it in until absorbed, then wipe again—just like leather care.

Cleaning one zombie was more laborious than cleaning ten skeletons, but Liu didn't mind; she performed each cleaning with meticulous care, greeting every zombie and skeleton that approached: "Good morning."

One zombie suddenly let out a guttural: "Huh—"

Liu looked up, delighted: "It's you, Red Pants! Good morning. What did you do last night?"

The zombie's clothing revealed a red pant leg—likely the reason for the nickname.

"Huh—" the zombie replied.

Liu couldn't decipher meaning from a single grunt, but she could read much from the zombie's condition; the residual rice grains indicated: "You went to thresh grain? No mud on your bones—you didn't work in the fields."

Zombies feared water and wouldn't till fields, but they could thresh, dry, and carry heavy sacks—stronger than skeletons and less prone to damage.

After hours of labor, she finally cleaned every skeleton and zombie. Liu returned to her small hut, pulled out a hard loaf of bread, toasted it over charcoal until softened, then carefully bit into it, her face glowing with happiness and satisfaction.

Before arriving in Meishencheng, she had never been full, let alone eaten bread made of pure grain; even a few moldy black loaves were a luxury.

That black bread, even toasted, was as hard as stone, filled with pebbles, sand, and chaff—careless bites could shatter teeth or slash lips.

Before coming to Meishencheng, Liu didn't even know bread could be free of stones; even now, she chewed cautiously, a habit forged by past hardship.

Sounds came from outside the cemetery; Liu swiftly pulled her hood over her face, leaving only her eyes exposed, slipped quietly from her hut, and hid in the shrubs to watch.

Far off, a group of people approached the slope; their leader, Lisa, called out: "Liu, come out."

If anyone else called her, Liu wouldn't emerge—but Lisa was the exception, the only person in Liu's life who never mocked, beat, or insulted her, and even tried to heal and beautify her.

Liu's right hand had once been broken; as a child, someone kicked her, and she blocked it, snapping her wrist. With no money for treatment, it healed crooked.

After arriving in Meishencheng, Lisa broke her wrist again and treated it properly, fixing the crooked hand.

Lisa also tried to beautify her, but the all-powerful Clear Skin and Spot Removal technique failed on Liu, worsening her ugliness instead.

At the time, a pharmacist named Sawa was present, who said: "Your ugliness is congenital; the more you treat it, the worse it becomes. You must keep it as it is."

Liu nodded, abandoning all other thoughts.

Later, Lisa assigned her here; no matter how ugly she was, the skeletons and zombies never rejected her, so Liu lived happily.

Now Lisa arrived with a large group seeking her; though fearful, Liu timidly stepped out.

"I saw you from afar. Come here. Take off your hood—let the lord see you," Lisa smiled. Whether hiding in shrubs or buried underground, she'd been spotted.

Liu cautiously peered and saw, beside Lisa, a flying bronze dragon.

She was wary of humans, but not dragons; curious, she timidly lifted her hood.

The face beneath the hood startled Negrilis: "This… this is… how could someone look like this? Didn't you try to beautify her?"

Though a bronze dragon, Negrilis had normal aesthetics; such an asymmetrical face was certainly not beautiful—even among half-creatures, it would be considered grotesque.

Mentioning it made Lisa want to cry: "Of course I tried! I nearly gave her a new face!"

Lisa said: "Beauty standards vary—some prefer short hair and wide lips, others high noses and deep eyes—but as long as healthy, any form holds its own beauty."

"Zihai, with her massive frame and back muscles wider than a male titan's, draws drooling crowds of fitness enthusiasts during training; if not for her size, they'd court her."

Imagining Zihai—over three meters tall, bulky enough to cradle Lightning like a pony—being showered with flowers by men, Negrilis shuddered violently and shook the image from her mind.

"In my view, health is beauty—but this doesn't hold for Liu. The healthier she is, the uglier she becomes; the better her nutrition, the more grotesque she looks."

"For a while, I sent her meat and beets; she grew oily, broke out in acne, and looked downright frightening. After that, I stopped. When she ate only dry bread, her condition improved slightly," Lisa sighed.

Sawa raised her hand: "I reviewed the archives and found this condition is congenital and worsens with age—the older she gets, the uglier she becomes. Most don't survive past ten. I suspect her body produces a 'Ugliness Element'; the healthier she is, the more this element is generated, and the worse it becomes."

"Can a potion cure it?" Negrilis asked.

Sawa shook her head: "No."

Negrilis turned to Ange: "Alright, you found your person. Meishencheng can't heal her, potions can't fix her—now it's up to your divine technique."

Ange nodded and reached out, grasping the void.

Liu felt her entire body freeze, immobilized; a grotesque shadow was "pulled" from her by Ange.

Without clothing to conceal it, the shadow revealed her deformities more clearly: limbs disproportionate, joints swollen, some bent—hideous.

Ange gestured over the shadow, then suddenly asked: "What is beauty?"

Everyone around broke into cold sweat.

"You're the Goddess of Beauty—why ask what beauty is?" Negrilis sighed.

Lisa quickly interjected: "For women, like me, Sawa, or Katie—we're beautiful, fitting female aesthetics. But Zihai is beautiful too—powerful beauty. Skeletons and corpses on a woman's body aren't beautiful, though your golden skeleton is majestic—it doesn't suit female taste."

"Hmm," Ange nodded, understanding.

He clenched his hand, squeezing the shadow repeatedly; it shifted until something stabilized. Then Ange swung his other fist and smashed it—shattering it.

Liu trembled violently and collapsed onto the ground.

One second, two seconds, three… two minutes passed; everyone exchanged glances: "That's it? No change at all?"

"Wasn't this supposed to be a divine technique?"

Confused, they whispered among themselves; Liu, who had risen from the ground, showed no visible change.

"What's going on? Isn't this a divine technique? Why no change?" Negrilis asked.

Ange dumped a pile of food before Liu and stomped hard on the ground.

There was change—but it required time. If only the Goddess of Beauty's power were involved, it might take months to manifest. Fortunately, Ange had the Rapid Death Aura.

Under the aura, Liu soon felt hungry, grabbed the food, and devoured it; as she chewed, her teeth fell out. She spat forcefully, ejecting crooked, broken teeth.

How? Liu instinctively pressed her tongue against her gums—new teeth had already grown in.

As she ate, she noticed her finger joints had shrunk, her skin had become smoother, and a new, unprecedented lightness filled her body—as if every chain binding her had been shattered.

Without a mirror, Liu felt the change weakly—but the onlookers saw it clearly: a grotesque, half-creature-like monster was visibly, rapidly transforming into a stunningly beautiful woman.

The woman resembled Lisa—plump and dewy—yet also Sawa—tall and pure—and also Katie—gentle yet alluring…

"Ku Bada, Ange, did you really fuse the best traits of all three?" Negrilis exclaimed in disbelief.

"Oh my god, my lord, what punch is that? Can you give me one? I've always thought I'm too short," Lisa cried excitedly.

"My lord, my lord, give me a punch—I think I'm too flat," Sawa clung to Ange's arm, eyes sparkling.

"My lord, my lord…"

Ange shook his head: "Tenfold soul flame, plus the Goddess of Beauty's power."

"Tenfold soul flame? Ten times the Rapid Death Aura's soul flame? And what is the Goddess of Beauty's power?" Negrilis asked, while impatiently shooing the nearly hysterical women.

Ange revealed the Goddess of Beauty's divine essence: "Its power remains for two uses."

"The Goddess of Beauty's divine essence? Only two uses left? Can it recover?" Negrilis asked.

Ange nodded, but added: "Slowly."

"Then don't waste it. Ignore these women—save the Goddess of Beauty's power. By the way, what's this technique called?" It required special divine power? Then it couldn't be used casually.

Ange tilted his head. Name?

"My lord," Sawa, pushed aside, raised her hand: "The shadow you pulled out represented ugliness. Let's call it the Ugliness-Shattering Fist."

"Shatter your head," Negrilis flew over and swatted her with a claw: "How's your homework? I haven't sensed any new knowledge added to the library—have you been slacking? Do you want me to cut your funding?"

Sawa's face fell: "Why do you make me learn if you want knowledge stored? Why can't you learn yourself?"

"You're the only believer of the God of Knowledge—who else will learn? Go!" Sawa was driven off; she never imagined that naming the technique would earn her so much homework—she wished she'd sewn her mouth shut.

After shooing away the crowd clamoring for punches, Negrilis sighed: "Pity. This beauty technique has no practical use—useless compared to your Rapid Death Aura, and can't be applied in battle. You can't punch enemies to make them prettier, can you?"

Ange tilted his head: "I can."

Confused, Negrilis retracted her consciousness into the Palace of Rest, following Ange's lone hand as it flew to the farm.

Reaching into the rice field, she seized a shadow of the rice, and Ange punched it.

"Sss! Your Beauty Fist works on plants? What did you shatter?" Negrilis gasped.

"Short." Ange said.

Nagelis took a long moment to understand Ang's meaning: "You mean you mistook the 'shortness' of the rice for ugliness, and smashed it? Would that make it grow tall?"

Ang nodded.

"A divine technique! This is truly a divine technique! It's not for beautification at all—it's a technique that can correct the innate flaws of a species!" Nagelis trembled with excitement.

Ang didn't understand why it was so excited, ignored it, and quietly spurred the rice plant whose 'shortness' had been smashed.

Soon, the plant, once one point two meters tall, grew to about two point three meters—taller than a person. This was no longer rice; it was a rice tree. The ears of grain were unprecedentedly large, heavy with yield, increasing output by at least seventy percent compared to its stunted state.

After excitable silence, Nagelis flew over and asked: "Ang, can you use the Meishen Fist one more time?"

Ang nodded, while internally wondering: Which kind of 'ugliness' in the rice should he smash this time? He had already decided to use his final Meishen Fist on the rice.

Without needing to see his expression, Nagelis knew what he was thinking, and hurriedly said: "At this rate, how long until it recovers?"

Ang calculated the recovery speed of the Meishen power and replied: "Two months."

"Too long, Ang. Could you save this Meishen Fist for me?" Nagelis said solemnly.

"You're a Death Dragon. You can't use it." Ang shook his head.

"Not for me to use."