Chapter 122: Cataclysm

Xiao Feng suddenly ceased his singing. His body remained motionless, suspended in the air for a fleeting moment, as shards of bellflower petals enveloped his slender frame in a burial of flowers so beautiful it was suffocating.

Yet, no one found it beautiful; it felt only heartless, perhaps even cruel.

Macarius sat slumped on the ground, tears of grief carving deep, unchecked furrows into his face.

Shi Can shivered and bowed toward the rain of flowers. A series of lights flickered deep within his enormous right eye, though no one could say what they truly were.

The man in white sighed and shook his head, seemingly lamenting the worthlessness of Xiao Feng’s death. He caught a fragment of a bellflower petal in his hand, held it to his chest in a gesture of respect, and turned to look at the black mandara nearby, its petals still tightly furled.

Luo Hanyai felt his body regain sensation. He stared blankly at the floral rain, frozen, until he suddenly shuddered as if possessed and struck himself across the face with the back of his hand.

"Slap!" Whether it was a lack of control after reclaiming his body or the boundless guilt in his heart, the blow was vicious, leaving five distinct finger marks.

Xiao Feng, however, would never see any of this. His body grew crystalline and translucent at a visible rate, dissolving into countless tiny blue particles. These flickers of blue light slowly converged, coalescing into an ethereal bellflower. The azure bloom blossomed brilliantly in the void, swaying gently as if caught in a breeze, though the familiar, ethereal melody was gone forever. Only a low, mournful whimpering echoed from somewhere, as if the world itself were weeping for him.

The bellflower drifted lightly toward Luo Hanyai. The spirits of the wind guarded the fragile, azure bloom with care, terrified that the slightest mishap might cause it to vanish into nothingness.

The flower came to a gentle stop before Luo Hanyai, unfurling every vein. Luo Hanyai hesitated for a moment before extending a finger to touch the dreamlike azure bloom.

The petals trembled slightly. All the azure radiance seemed to reach the end of its life, like an old man in his twilight years—no longer brilliant, only dim and weary. The bellflower grew increasingly illusory until it dissolved into the void.

Everything concerning Xiao Feng vanished along with the flower, leaving not a single trace behind. Just as his name implied, the wind came from the boundless void and departed in silence, leaving nothing in its wake.

"Sigh, why didn't you die?" the man in white suddenly spoke, sounding genuinely regretful.

Luo Hanyai looked at him in confusion, noticing that the man had retrieved the white lantern that had been hanging on the wall and was walking toward the black mandara.

"Indeed, how could I die so easily?" The sinister black mandara slowly bloomed, as mysterious and unfathomable as ever. But upon closer inspection, the inner walls of its petals were covered in a dense network of cracks. Man Luo stumbled out from within the petals, looking pale and unsteady, as if he had suffered grave injuries.

"Even if you aren't dead, you’re not far off."

"I'm afraid I’ll disappoint you. No matter how weak I am, I am more than capable of finishing you off." Man Luo stared at the man in white, his attitude unyielding, showing no intention of backing down.

"Oh? I hope your body is as tough as your tongue." The man in white transformed into a blur, meeting Man Luo head-on with a palm strike.

"Cough, cough, cough..." Man Luo’s expression shifted, and he began to cough violently, just as Xiao Feng had done before.

"It seems your injuries are worse than I imagined." The man in white watched as Man Luo coughed up chunks of black-tinged red ice, appearing to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I never imagined an uncertain variable would nearly ruin all my plans." Man Luo ignored the man’s thoughts, maintaining a confident smile on his paper-white face. "But the people within my plans won't cause me any trouble."

"Oh? You mean I am part of your plans as well?" The voice of the man in white turned incredibly somber.

"Not just you—everyone, excluding that old man and the child." Man Luo shook his head, looking at the man in white with a trace of disdain. "I’m going to attack now. Are you ready?"

"I’d like to see exactly what you’re made of." The man in white shook the lantern in his hand and stood his ground, waiting for Man Luo’s supposed assault.

"Such laughable confidence." In a flash, Man Luo appeared before him. Streams of death energy surged from the white lantern like grey-white dragons, rushing straight toward Man Luo.

Unexpectedly, Man Luo did not dodge. A sinister smile played on his lips, as if the death energy could not affect him at all.

The man in white watched, bewildered, unable to understand his actions. He knew the power of his lantern well; he was certain that even he would be in deep trouble if entangled by such energy, let alone Man Luo.

Suddenly, a small dagger appeared in Man Luo’s hand. Ignoring the death energy about to coil around him, he thrust it directly toward the man in white’s heart—it was a move of mutual destruction!

"Defend!" At the man’s command, a massive surge of death energy poured from the lantern, congealing into a set of grey-white armor upon his body.

The death-energy dragons poured frantically into Man Luo’s body, while at the same time, the dagger in Man Luo’s hand was inches from piercing the armor.

The man in white looked on, perplexed. He could not understand why Man Luo would do this. Although he could not move while wielding the death arts with his lantern, this trade of injuries would clearly hurt Man Luo far more. Wouldn’t this only worsen his already grievous condition? Why make such a foolish choice? Could there be something special about his dagger?

The death energy flowing from the lantern grew even thicker, nearly becoming physical.

As the dagger struck the armor, the man in white was suddenly struck by a premonition of disaster—an instinct honed by years of dealing with the dead. Seeing the twisted smile on Man Luo’s face, his heart sank. Without hesitation, he cast the lantern aside, attempting to evade the strike.

"Thinking of dodging now? Too late!"

Man Luo’s dagger pierced the man in white’s body without the slightest resistance, as if the armor were not there at all.

"You..." Although he had avoided a fatal wound to his heart, the dagger still carved a massive gash into his abdomen. Blood gushed out instantly, and it seemed as though even his intestines were exposed.