Chapter 213: Dragging the World into Burial

The rain still falls.

Ouyang Feng stood there, like a stubborn reef, forcibly splitting a gap in the endless rain curtain.

Chen Shao's scarlet left eye contracted violently, like a broken camera lens, frantically trying to focus, trying to capture the weak point of this interceptor.

Chen Shao's throat squeezed out a hoarse low growl; the red light in his left eye instantly surged, and the invisible spiritual tendrils, like countless greedy poisonous snakes, lunged at the black-clad man at top speed.

"Kneel down! Then commit suicide!"

Spiritual pollution, carrying the will of absolute command, slammed hard into Ouyang Feng's brain.

But Ouyang Feng merely slowly raised his hand, reaching toward the black-wrapped long object behind him.

His fingers were long, his knuckles distinct, steady to a terrifying degree.

"Come out, Death Dragon. Resist it."

A few words uttered, light as smoke, yet cold as ice.

Clang—

That sound is hard to describe.

It is not like metal scraping; rather, it resembles the sigh of some ancient ferocious beast awakening.

The black cloth slipped away, revealing an antiquated Tang saber in his hand. The blade had no sheen, jet-black, its surface covered with dark red patterns like dried-up blood channels from a thousand years.

At the moment the blade was fully drawn.

Hiss—

With Ouyang Feng as the center, rainwater within a three-meter radius vaporized into white mist.

Chen Shao only felt his brain as if struck by a heavy hammer swung by someone.

"Ah!!!"

He clutched his left eye and let out a piercing wail.

Those several invisible spiritual tendrils, before even touching the hem of Ouyang Feng's clothes, were crushed to pieces by the invisible force field surrounding the blade named Death Dragon.

The backlash came too fast and too fierce.

Puff!

Chen Shao's left eye instantly spurted a stream of black blood, trickling down his cheek, staining half his face like a fierce ghost.

Pain.

Heart-rending, bone-piercing pain.

As if someone had shoved a red-hot branding iron into his eye socket and stirred it.

"How could this be......" Chen Shao's voice trembled, "Why has my domination broken?!"

Ouyang Feng did not answer.

He saw no need to answer an ant's question.

He lowered the blade tip, his shoe lightly tapping the muddy ground.

No forewarning.

No run-up.

That figure seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Fast.

So fast it surpassed the limit of what the ordinary human eye could catch.

Chen Shao instinctively felt a chill assault him, the taste of death. He subconsciously raised his hand, wanting to protect the medicine in his arms.

Swish—

A pitch-black crescent blade flash flickered in the night rain and vanished.

Chen Shao only felt a chill in his chest.

Immediately afterward, his whole body felt as if struck by a high-speed train, his feet leaving the ground as he flew backward.

Bang!

He heavily slammed into the mottled concrete wall of the air-raid shelter, then slid down like a torn sack.

The already tattered raincoat on his chest was completely shredded.

A ferocious wound ran horizontally across his chest and abdomen, flesh turned over, revealing faintly white ribs.

Blood poured out without restraint.

Had he not shifted slightly at the last moment, this blow would have already cleaved him in half.

"Cough cough......"

Chen Shao lay in the mud, vomiting blood in big mouthfuls. He trembled as he reached into his pocket, feeling the blood-soaked backpack.

Good.

The medicine is still there.

Even the packaging box wasn't crushed.

Footsteps sounded.

Ouyang Feng stepped through the rain, walking step by step. His long blade pointed diagonally at the ground, not even a drop of blood staining its tip.

Chen Shao gritted his teeth, his nails digging into the dirt, trying to crawl up.

But his body no longer obeyed.

The emotion named despair for the first time completely overwhelmed Li Renge's madness.

Is this the Federation's strongest combat power?

Simply...... a monster.

"It's over."

Ouyang Feng walked up to Chen Shao, looking down from a height at the heap of rotten flesh.

He raised his sword.

The action was simple and direct, with no ornamentation, like slicing off an extra piece of fat on a chopping board.

The blade fell.

At that moment.

"Brother…?"

A weak, tearful voice suddenly came from deep within the Air-raid Shelter.

The voice was light and soft, tinged with weakness and fear.

Yet it struck like a thunderclap at Ouyang Feng's ear and raised a towering wave in Chen Shao's mind.

Chen Shao's already scattered pupils suddenly snapped into focus.

His persona switched back to his outward persona.

No!

He must not let Yao Yao see!

He must not let her see this ghastly sight!

And must not… let her suffer any injury!

"Don't… don't come out!!!"

Chen Shao, from an unknown source of strength, suddenly unleashed a heart‑pounding power from his battered body.

He did not dodge.

Instead, he sprang up from the ground, thrusting his shoulder forward to meet the lethal slash head‑on.

Puff!

The sound of the keen blade cutting flesh and bone made one's teeth ache.

Crack!

It was the crisp crack of a clavicle being split cleanly.

The unmatched, razor‑sharp blade of "Death Dragon" drove deep into Chen Shao's left shoulder, even cleaving half of his scapula, just a few centimeters shy of reaching his heart.

Fresh blood sprayed Ouyang Feng like a fountain.

Yet Chen Shao did not retreat.

He clutched the blade tightly, his face convulsing with pain, his eyes blurred with cold sweat and blood, yet he did not move a step back.

Because behind him was the entrance to the Air-raid Shelter.

It was his whole world.

No one... don't even think... the past...

Chen Shao's mouth foamed with blood, his intact right eye bulging as if to tear its corners, staring intently at Ouyang Feng's indifferent face.

Ouyang Feng's hand stopped.

In his perpetually steady eyes, a faint flicker of surprise appeared for the first time.

It could still move?

And it was to… protect the person inside that hole.

Was it his sister?

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze passing over Chen Shao's trembling shoulder toward the pitch‑black opening.

Using the weak glow of a fragment of a dying candle within the Air-raid Shelter.

He saw a little girl curled up in a torn blanket.

Her cheeks flushed, drenched in sweat, eyes filled with terror and worry, struggling to crawl outward.

"Brother… big brother… is that you…?"

The little girl's voice trembled.

Chen Shao's body shuddered violently.

"Don't look…"

He turned his back to his sister, his voice unnaturally gentle, each word dripping with fresh blood from his mouth.

"Yao Yao… don't look… brother…"

"Close your eyes… obey… close your eyes…"

Ouyang Feng looked at the man before him.

A second ago he was a murderous lunatic intent on dragging the whole world to his doom.

This second, he became a wall.

A wall that, for the sake of that insignificant candlelight behind him, dared to face the tsunami head‑on.

"Sigh."

Ouyang Feng sighed lightly.

Yet the sword in his hand did not retract; instead he gradually increased the pressure.

It was a blade.

The blade had no feelings.

A mission is just a mission.

The blade pressed down.

Chen Shao's knees gave way, and he fell heavily, kneeling in the mudwater.

That slash went even deeper, nearly reaching the main artery, blood gushing as if money were free.

His vision began to blur.

The world was drifting away from him.

Cold.

So cold.

Is this what death feels like?

But... the medicine hasn't been administered yet.

Yao Yao is still running a fever.

If I die... who will take care of her?

Who will cook for her? Who will comb her hair? Who will cover her ears and tell stories when thunder rolls?

No one.

In this world, apart from me, no one will look after her.

"You... are you really willing?"

In his mind, that madman suddenly laughed.

The laugh was chilling, desperate.

"You felt it too, didn't you? That sense of helplessness."

"Chen Shao! You useless waste! If you can't do it, just give me your whole body!"

"Even if I become a monster, even if my soul shatters, even if I drag this damned world into hell..."

"As long as it makes her happy!"

Chen Shao knelt on the ground, his head bowed, blood trickling down his nose.

He suddenly gave a brief smile.

The smile was extremely Weird, half his face mournful, the other half stretched to the ears.

"Fine."

He said softly.

"All of it is yours."

"Everything... is yours."

Ouyang Feng frowned slightly.

That intuition, honed by years of walking the edge of life and death, made the hairs on his back stand up instantly.

Something was off.

On this dying ant, something extremely dangerous was brewing.

He flicked his wrist, ready to behead Chen Shao outright and end this farce.

Too late.

"Roar—!!!"

A nonhuman, guttural roar burst from deep within Chen Shao's throat.

It was nothing like a human sound; it resembled an Evil Ghost trapped in the Abyss, reveling after breaking its chains.

Pfft! Pfft!

A series of teeth‑aching cracking sounds rang out.

Chen Shao jerked his head up.

His already blood‑engorged, swollen left eyeball suddenly burst outward, completely protruding from the socket.

Immediately, countless thick, purple‑red vessels, like living earthworms, shot out from behind the eyeball.

They did not attack Ouyang Feng.

Instead, they reversed direction, stabbing his own temples mercilessly!

Puff!

The vessels pierced his brain like roots into soil.

They writhed crazily, sucking furiously.

Chen Shao's body convulsed violently, his bones cracking with a crisp snap, and beneath his pallid skin black meridians surfaced like spiderwebs.

A brutal, chaotic Spiritual Storm instantly swept across the entire Air-raid Shelter entrance.

Even the blade aura of the Death Dragon, which could normally sever all spiritual energy, trembled slightly before this frenzied self‑destructive eruption.

Ouyang Feng's complexion changed for the first time.