# 28
**Chapter 28: Slash, Slash, Slash**
Gurgle.
The Ghost-Faced King’s head rolled to the ground.
Zhao Kongcheng swayed, then collapsed straight backward.
Lin Qiye moved like lightning, catching him before he hit the mud. Only then did he realize how terrible Zhao Kongcheng’s condition really was.
Scratches, bruises, fractures—under Lin Qiye’s mental perception, wounds covered every inch of the man’s body. Blood streamed out, dyeing the rain-soaked ground crimson. At least five or six bones were broken. Lin Qiye couldn’t imagine how Zhao Kongcheng had managed to stand with injuries this severe.
Worse still, Lin Qiye could clearly feel the man’s flesh failing, his life flickering like the last ember in cold ashes, shrinking by the second…
Lin Qiye sat beside him, lost. “Your body—”
“Cough, cough… it’s nothing. Just the price of forcing out every last drop of potential.”
“At this rate, you’ll die.”
“I know.”
“And that’s okay?”
“Heh-heh-heh…” Zhao Kongcheng tried to laugh, but blood coughed up halfway. “Worth it. Got to taste the Forbidden Ruins before I clock out, and…”
“And what?”
“And I did it—blade to the abyss, blood dyeing the sky.” Trembling, he scooped a handful of the muddy ground and came up with pure red. “With this much blood, maybe I can’t paint the heavens, but the earth’s good enough.”
Lin Qiye stared. “But there’s no crowd behind you. Nobody saw what you did except me. Is that still worth it?”
Zhao Kongcheng only smiled, giving no answer.
“Do me a favor.”
“Name it.”
“Pack of smokes in my pocket—light one for me.”
Lin Qiye fished inside the man’s jacket, found a cigarette soaked by rain, then pulled a lighter from his trousers. He placed the cigarette between Zhao Kongcheng’s lips, shielded the flame from the downpour, and clicked repeatedly.
Flick… flick… flick!
A spark caught; the tip glowed.
Zhao Kongcheng took a long drag and exhaled in pure relief, as if every ache eased at once.
Eyes on the gray sky, rain washing over his face, he spoke around the cigarette.
“Lin Qiye.”
“Yeah?”
“I lopped the Ghost-Faced King’s head off—did you see it?”
“I saw.”
The corner of Zhao Kongcheng’s mouth curled; he was happy.
Lin Qiye nodded, about to reply, when his body jolted.
He turned stiffly. Out in the mud, the headless corpse of the Ghost-Faced King was rising…
Across its torso, a pale, grotesque ghost-face scuttled like a parasite—up the legs, over the back, onto the chest—
And settled right over the heart.
The severed head lay nearby, the ghost-face that had been on it now gone.
Lin Qiye’s pupils shrank to pinpricks!
The Ghost-Faced King… wasn’t dead.
Rain kept falling.
Zhao Kongcheng still gazed upward, savoring the moment, unaware of Lin Qiye’s expression.
“Hell, even the captain couldn’t kill that bastard, and I just did. Lin Qiye—ain’t I amazing?”
Lin Qiye hesitated, looked down at the man in his arms, and nodded hard.
“Yeah. Amazing.”
“Merit this big—if I live, I’ll make general, right?”
“You will.” Lin Qiye’s eyes burned with certainty. “You have to live!”
“Heh.”
Zhao Kongcheng pictured it, contentment on his face.
But the light in his eyes was fading.
Lin Qiye’s hands shook. He jostled the man and shouted:
“Zhao Kongcheng! You’re not a general yet—you can’t die!”
Zhao Kongcheng couldn’t hear anymore. His gaze blurred. He moved his lips, voice a whisper:
“Was I… cool just now?”
“Cool!” Lin Qiye’s own lips trembled; he nodded fiercely. “Cooler than anyone I’ve ever seen!”
A faint smile tugged at Zhao Kongcheng’s mouth. His eyes closed; his body relaxed.
Zhao Kongcheng was dead.
Splash, splash…
Lin Qiye sat frozen, rain blurring his sight, yet he never looked away.
Until heavy footsteps sounded again.
He pressed his lips tight, drew a breath, and rose slowly…
He turned. His eyes locked on the headless corpse; within them, a blazing sun seemed to ignite!
He stepped forward, pulled the Straight Blade skewered in the mud—
Zhao Kongcheng’s blade.
Clutching it, Lin Qiye walked toward the Ghost-Faced King. Rain soaked him through, but nothing could douse the fury inside—
Or the burning gold of his eyes!
The ghost-face on the corpse twisted in a soundless howl. Its pace quickened until the headless body lurched like a maddened beast and charged!
With its right arm already severed, the Ghost-Faced King slashed with the left claw in a storm of strikes.
Lin Qiye, blade in hand, foresaw every trajectory, slipping aside like lightning. He was a midnight butterfly in a gale—never touched by a single leaf.
Terrifying dynamic vision plus the Night Dancer’s speed made him a phantom.
After dodging a dozen blows, he raised the blade and slashed—not at heart or throat, but at the pale ghost-face clinging to the chest.
That face, he guessed, was the true body. When Zhao Kongcheng had severed the head, the face hadn’t been harmed—hence the resurrection.
Weaving through attacks, Lin Qiye hacked again and again at the ghost-face. Five-fold strength wasn’t enough for a killing blow, only shallow cuts.
It didn’t matter.
One cut won’t kill? Then ten—then a hundred!
This time, he’d hack until soul and body scattered!
One, two, three…
The Ghost-Faced King couldn’t touch him, while Lin Qiye landed strike after strike. The face on the chest tore wider, bloodier, its agony obvious.
Soon the monster’s onslaught slowed.
Lin Qiye’s killing intent flared. He seized the opening, reversed his grip, and drove the Straight Blade with every ounce of strength—
Straight into the ghost-face!
A shrill, piercing shriek split the rainy sky!