Chapter 1190: Sacrifice

Only chains slipped through the net, aiming straight for Guiyuan's waist. But Guiyuan was prepared. He snatched the tip of the chain with one hand, just like someone catching a snake.

The black-armored leader roared, trying to break free, but Zhu Erniang's hand-woven net was not so fragile.

The spiderweb stretched taut but ultimately held against the violent surge. The black-armored leader sawed back and forth a few times with his folding cleaver, cutting through only a dozen or so strands.

Each strand of Zhu Erniang's spiderweb was, in fact, made of hundreds of fused silk threads.

The Soul-Capturing Mirror in his arms shrieked, "Be careful, it's going to vanish again!"

That skill was nearly impossible to guard against, and the black-armored leader's movements were exceptionally agile. Remembering how he had almost been decapitated moments ago, Guiyuan felt a chill down his neck and instinctively urged them on with a couple of cries.

He Lingchuan concluded that the black-armored leader's vanishing ability had a time limit, based on the observation that he never blinked consecutively among the Yao army, but always with at least ten seconds in between.

Otherwise, this net wouldn't be able to hold him at all.

He Lingchuan immediately blew his whistle, intending to call out the bat and deliver the finishing blow himself. But unexpectedly, the black-armored leader's movements suddenly stiffened; he lost all strength and collapsed onto the ground—

The bat demon puppet seized the moment, biting through his heart meridian with its final attack.

With all his vital energy suddenly drained, the black-armored leader became like a golden-armored bronze general without mystic crystal power, transforming from vibrant and energetic to barely able to lift a wrist.

Still, Guiyuan held him tightly, not daring to release him; the object was simply too dangerous.

Even with He Lingchuan fighting two-on-one, Guiyuan still felt a lingering fear.

He Lingchuan observed that the red light had vanished from the black-armored leader's eyes, black blood was seeping from his lips, and he had started coughing again. Only then did He Lingchuan tell Guiyuan, "Alright, let him sit up."

At that moment, Dong Rui appeared from nowhere, arriving alongside Fu Liushan.

Fu Liushan carefully scrutinized the black-armored leader before them, cautiously maintaining a ten-foot distance and ready to leap back at any moment.

This was the Rakshasa Armor they had guarded for generations, and…

The black-armored leader suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, but his gaze slowly cleared.

"He's fading," Dong Rui stated simply. "He can still open his eyes, but it's just a dying flicker."

Even in the Rakshasa Armor, the black-armored leader was still human; severing his heart meridian would kill him just the same.

Fu Liushan asked softly:

"Fu Tianlin, do you still remember that name?"

"I remember," the black-armored leader replied, his facial muscles still somewhat rigid.

"I am Fu Tianlin, and I am also Ah Xun."

Memories sealed away for over 160 years finally surged back to him like a tide.

Within the Heavenly Stellar Array, Fu Tianlin and the Ying people were pressing the patriarch toward the center of the formation.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly.

But just then, a subordinate ran from a distance, urgently exclaiming, "Young master, one of the platforms cannot be activated!"

He had tried every possible method, but nothing worked.

The 36 Heavenly Stellar points had been reduced to 35, no longer complete. According to the Celestial Master's records, this would significantly diminish the sealing power.

Just then, cracking and shattering sounds of ice emanated from the black armor, as solid chunks of ice fell away one after another.

It was indeed the Rakshasa Armor; even that many ice talismans could only freeze it temporarily.

Furthermore, the ice talismans were failing faster. After just a few breaths, the patriarch could move again, lifting his leg and kicking the nearest tribesman away.

Fortunately, his axe had already been confiscated; otherwise, several more lives would have been lost then and there.

Several burly men clung to him, collectively weighing at least seven hundred pounds, yet he still managed to stride towards the nearest platform.

Destroy a few more platform arrays, and this place won't be able to trap him!

As the patriarch walked, he knocked away two more men.

Both men flew like kites with broken strings, spitting out a mouthful of blood in mid-air, and lay motionless for a long time after hitting the ground.

Ah Xun clung to the patriarch's back, and though swung several times, he wasn't dislodged.

From behind, an unknown voice roared, "Kill him, Young Master, kill him!"

Indeed, the folding cleaver was right at Ah Xun's hand. If he seized the chance to extend it and slash, the Ying people's greatest problem might be solved at that very moment.

But this was his father!

How could he bring himself to commit patricide?

Ah Xun's hesitation cost him; the patriarch knocked away two more men, then immediately jabbed his elbow backward.

His son was clinging to his back, employing the grappling technique that the Ying people excelled at, making it difficult for the patriarch to break free or even grab him.

By all accounts, this elbow strike shouldn't have hit Ah Xun; he was adept at dodging.

Unexpectedly, as the patriarch thrust, a two-foot-long spike suddenly emerged from the elbow of the black armor, fiercely piercing Ah Xun's ribs!

Onlookers gasped in alarm.

Ah Xun too shuddered from the pain.

Sensing their fear, the patriarch seemed greatly invigorated. He seized another burly Ying man who rushed forward to help Ah Xun and said coldly, "Ah Di, you too betray me!"

Ah Di cried out, "You betrayed our tribe; you pushed us to the brink!"

The patriarch scoffed, grabbed Ah Di's arm, and tore it off.

This nearly two-hundred-pound man had strong muscles and bones; it would have taken time to sever his arm even with a knife. Yet, the patriarch tore him apart like a ragged doll!

Ah Di cried out, screaming in agony.

But before he could scream twice, the patriarch kicked him in the leg, instantly breaking his leg bone.

Ah Di couldn't stand and collapsed to the ground.

The patriarch delivered another upward kick, and everyone heard a clear, chilling "CRACK!"

Ah Di's neck bone snapped backward. As he fell, the back of his head twisted two hundred seventy degrees, almost touching his spine.

The patriarch, awe-inspiring, slaughtered all around him. Who else dared to step forward to their death?

By this time, the runes on the ground had already swirled into a dark red vortex, clearly on the verge of forming. But the patriarch had already reached the platform, dark mist swirling around his fists.

With this punch, the 35 Heavenly Stellar points would likely become 34, and no one knew if the sealing array would still be effective.

An ancient contraption from a thousand years ago, it was already a miracle that it could even be activated. Could they truly expect it to be robust and powerful?

Ah Xun knew he had no chance.

It wasn't that the Ying people had no chance, but that he himself had no chance.

He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He still wanted to return to Scarlet Valley to see his wife, he still wanted to await the birth of his son, and he still wanted to lead his people to a new land of hope…

But seeing his father could smash the stone platform with a single punch, without needing any tools, he gritted his teeth, clutched the black armor, and shouted, "Rakshasa Armor! Come to me, spare my father!"

He had never wished so strongly that he truly was a royal descendant of the Glittering Gold Empire.

If his father was, then he was too.

A younger, stronger, more promising line of the Pang clan! Only then would the evil armor be willing to transfer to him.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a buzzing wave of sound filled his ears, as if countless people were weeping, wailing, and screaming… An endless torrent of negative emotions surged over him, almost crushing him.

But among them, one powerful voice was clearest. It questioned his deepest resolve: "Are you sure?"

This voice even sounded somewhat familiar.

Ah Xun endured the sharp pain in his ribs and loudly answered, "Yes!"

The Rakshasa Armor's recognition ceremony required the new master's blood, a step that had already been completed.

Then, the patriarch's fist smashed onto the platform.

There was a deafening thud.

Everyone's heart sank. It was over.

However, the platform did not crack, nor did the runes on the ground dim.

Before hitting the platform, the black smoke on the patriarch's fist had vanished.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, the cold, hard Rakshasa Armor suddenly transformed into a mercury-like black liquid. It flowed over the patriarch's back and directly covered Ah Xun's body.

In just a few breaths, the Rakshasa Armor had changed to a new master—or rather, a new host.

As the Rakshasa Armor left his body, the patriarch's originally upright figure swayed twice, almost losing his balance. He pressed one hand on the stone platform and turned around in astonishment, only to see his son's entire body covered in black armor. Their eyes met, Ah Xun's filled with pain.

"Ah Xun!" The patriarch's consciousness fully returned, and he was now greatly alarmed, moving to help his son.

As the previous bearer of the armor, he naturally knew what his son was enduring at that moment.

He still felt a lingering fear of the Rakshasa Armor's power to crush the human spirit.

"Don't touch me!" Ah Xun waved a hand, and a blast of vigorous wind pushed the patriarch ten feet away.

Immediately after, Ah Xun gritted his teeth and slowly walked towards the center of the spell array's vortex.

With each step, his feet felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and his mind reeled—the Rakshasa Armor was doing to him exactly what it had done to the old patriarch. Yet, Ah Xun's steps remained exceptionally firm.

A mere twenty-foot distance, yet it felt like he had walked a lifetime.

The tribesmen dared not step forward; they only dared to restrain the patriarch, preventing him from touching his son.

"Leave the Glittering Gold Plain!" He turned back with difficulty, taking one last look at his father and his people. "Take Mengmeng, take my child! Go to Julu Port, find a new way out!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the spell array vortex beneath his feet fully opened, and Ah Xun rapidly sank as if falling into a bog.

Strangely, nothing happened to the other Ying people who stood on the spell array.

Ah Xun could feel the Rakshasa Armor's repulsion and resistance to this array.

It commanded him, ordering him to leave this place immediately!

But he bit his tongue fiercely, and using the last shred of clarity in his mind, he collapsed where he stood!

He wouldn't leave; he wanted to seal the Rakshasa Armor, absolutely refusing to let it harm his father or his people again.

The Ying people had suffered too much in the Glittering Gold Plain; they absolutely could not be corrupted by the evil armor again!

He looked at his father, who had regained his aged appearance. A thousand words filled his heart, but not a single one could be uttered.

He smiled at his people one last time, and then his vision plunged into darkness.

Desolate ruins, towering stone platforms, a gloomy night sky, and woods whimpering in the wind.

Ah Xun felt as if he had slept for a very long time, but what he saw upon opening his eyes was no different from before he sank into the ground.

But the Ying people who had surrounded him were gone, replaced by three strangers.

The three stood in a row, watching him with strange gazes.

Ah Xun met their gaze for a while, and one of them asked him:

"Fu Tianlin, do you still remember who you are?"

"I am a Ying tribesman, a royal descendant of the Glittering Gold Empire." Ah Xun's eyes gradually cleared as he recalled past events. He looked down at the bloody hole in his chest, feeling no resentment, only a hint of bitterness. "How long has it been?" he murmured.