Chapter 31: A Father’s Redemption

The sword’s keen edge meeting demonic flesh no longer yielded the familiar clang of steel.

Instead, a dull, rending sound of flesh being torn apart filled the air.

For the very first time, the longsword in Lu Hongzhuang’s hand truly pierced Wu Que’s body.

That demonic form, woven from countless vengeful spirits and malevolent energies, had long lost its former invincibility under the assault of Su Qinghan’s peculiar peach wood dagger.

The spirits trapped within him thrashed wildly, causing his power to become chaotic and uncontrollable.

“Roar!”

Wu Que cried out in agony, unleashing a bestial roar as he struck back with a sweeping palm, sending torrents of black energy surging forth.

Lu Hongzhuang dared not meet the attack head-on; her toes barely touched the ground as her form, like a crimson feather, drifted gracefully backward, evading the ferocious blow.

Stabilizing herself, she deftly twirled her longsword, shedding every drop of black blood that clung to its blade.

Never before had such consuming fury blazed within her chest.

The image of that white-clad figure being slammed into the ruins replayed relentlessly before her eyes.

She and Su Qinghan had only known each other for a short time, and for much of that, they had been at odds.

She disliked Su Qinghan’s cryptic pronouncements, her frequent habit of putting her in awkward situations, and she detested that perpetually serene demeanor, as if nothing in the world could ruffle her.

Yet, when she truly believed Su Qinghan was gone, the raw panic and explosive rage that erupted from the deepest recesses of her heart were undeniable.

‘That woman cannot die!’

“Die!”

Lu Hongzhuang roared, her internal qi and blood erupting without reserve, transforming her into a straight crimson streak as she charged forward once more!

Her sword light descended like a waterfall, each strike swifter, each blow heavier than the last!

In that moment, she cast aside all defense, pouring her entire essence—her spirit, energy, and vitality—into the blade she wielded.

Every single strike carried the desperate resolve of a life-or-death struggle!

Tormented by the excruciating pain of ten thousand spirits gnawing at his demonic form and relentlessly harried by Lu Hongzhuang’s suicidal fighting style, Wu Que found himself steadily pushed back.

Just then, a commotion erupted at the entrance to the square.

A few audacious townsfolk, supporting a blood-soaked young woman, stumbled hesitantly into view.

They gently lowered the young woman to the ground, and one of them, pointing towards the distant battle, spoke with a tremor in their voice.

“Miss Lin… we… we can only take you this far!”

Having spoken, the group fled without a backward glance, scrambling away as fast as their legs could carry them.

Wu Linlin lay prone on the frigid ground, her limbs mangled; the excruciating pain left her utterly devoid of strength, unable even to crawl.

She lifted her head, her gaze fixed on the two-meter tall, demonic monstrosity not far away, currently under relentless assault by the crimson-clad heroine.

Though she could not discern the creature’s face, she recognized a presence both familiar and unsettlingly alien.

It was her father.

“Father!!”

Wu Linlin expended every ounce of her strength, unleashing a gut-wrenching cry.

“Father!!”

That desperate cry, like a searing hot poker, plunged violently into the frenzied depths of Wu Que’s mind.

He clashed once more with Lu Hongzhuang, the immense force of their collision sending both combatants reeling backward simultaneously.

His head, now grotesquely mutated, slowly turned towards the source of the sound.

There, in a pool of blood, the young woman in the pink silk dress gazed at him with utter despair.

‘It’s Linlin.’

‘It really is Linlin.’

The resentful cries of myriad spirits shrieked madly within his mind, urging him to tear apart everything in his sight.

‘Kill that woman! Kill that girl! Kill all living things!’

An irresistible surge of murderous intent seized control of his body.

He lifted his hand, and the blood-red longsword in his grip hummed ominously before tearing free, transforming into a streak of crimson light that shot directly towards Wu Linlin on the ground!

‘No!’

‘Don’t!’

From the deepest reaches of the boundless, dark resentment, that faint spark of Wu Que’s own consciousness let out a silent roar.

‘He could die.’

‘He could lose.’

‘He could be reviled by all under heaven, his bones ground to dust and scattered to the winds.’

‘But his daughter could not die!’

‘Absolutely not!’

In the fleeting instant before the crimson sword light could pierce Wu Linlin’s body.

The massive, distorted demonic shadow flickered out of existence, only to reappear instantly with a speed that defied all reason.

“Pfft—!”

There was no scream.

Only the dull thud of a sharp blade tearing through flesh.

Wu Que’s colossal form had shielded Wu Linlin.

The very longsword he had personally forged, meant to sever all injustices in the world, had pierced through his back, emerging from his chest, its tip still dripping with his own black demonic blood.

Time, in that moment, seemed to freeze.

Lu Hongzhuang, too, was startled by the sudden turn of events, halting her advance.

She saw an opportunity.

A singular, unprecedented chance to deliver a killing blow!

Without a moment’s hesitation, she channeled all her cultivation to her feet, her form flashing like lightning as she instantly traversed dozens of yards, materializing behind Wu Que.

Her longsword thrust out like a bolt of lightning!

A strike straight to the throat!

“Ugh…”

A guttural, indistinct gurgle escaped Wu Que’s throat.

His massive body convulsed violently, and then, the monstrous black energy swirling around him, as if finding a sudden release, erupted furiously from the wound in his neck!

Countless spectral souls shrieked and writhed within the black mist, only to ultimately dissipate into the night wind.

His swollen, distorted body rapidly shriveled and shrank at a visible pace.

In the end, he reverted to the appearance of the middle-aged man in the tattered official’s robe.

He slowly sank to his knees, his daughter beneath him.

He tried to speak.

“Father…”

Wu Linlin watched the incessant flow of blood from her father’s neck and chest, and her tears began to fall without restraint.

He opened his mouth, but only more blood gushed forth, stifling any words he might have uttered.

His gaze fell upon his daughter’s two arms, hanging limply, twisted at unnatural angles; in his now hollow eyes, a final flicker of tenderness and profound guilt shone through.

Trembling, he mustered his last vestiges of strength and slowly raised a hand.

That hand, caked with blood and grime, gently settled upon Wu Linlin’s broken arm.

A warm, rich golden current of energy surged from his palm—the most fundamental life essence of a Tongxuan realm martial artist.

“Click.”

“Snap.”

The distinct sound of bones resetting echoed through the air.

Wu Linlin felt a wave of warmth envelop her limbs, and to her astonishment, the agonizing, heart-rending pain rapidly receded.

After reconnecting her bones and meridians, Wu Que’s hand fell limply to his side.

The last spark of light in his eyes was extinguished completely.

He breathed his last.

“Father—!!”

A heart-rending wail pierced the stillness, echoing across the entire, deathly silent square.

Lu Hongzhuang leaned heavily on her sword, gasping for breath.

The battle was over.

The immense rage that had sustained her now receded, and an overwhelming wave of exhaustion and weakness instantly swept through her entire body.

She swayed unsteadily, then began to walk in a particular direction.

That direction led to a collapsed ruin.

“Junior Sister!”

Not far off, from another section of the ruins, Liu Ruyan struggled to emerge, her body riddled with wounds.

She coughed violently as she walked, specks of blood staining her spittle.

Catching sight of Lu Hongzhuang, a flicker of relief, born of surviving a great ordeal, crossed her face.

“Junior Sister, it’s a good thing you came! Otherwise… everyone in town would have died here today…”

She extended her hand, hoping Lu Hongzhuang would pull her up.

However, Lu Hongzhuang seemed utterly oblivious to her words, her gaze not even registering Liu Ruyan’s presence.

Lost in a daze, she walked straight past Liu Ruyan.

Step by agonizing step, she moved towards the brick and tile rubble that had entombed the white-clad figure.

Liu Ruyan’s outstretched hand remained suspended, frozen in mid-air.

Lu Hongzhuang reached the ruins and stopped.

She gazed at the chaotic debris, and her body began to tremble uncontrollably.

‘That woman…’

‘The one who was always sickly, always needing to be carried wherever she wanted to go.’

‘The one who, with a few scraps of paper, had resolved the malevolent spirits that had plagued even their Demon Exorcism Division.’

‘The woman who always spoke of “looking out for herself,” yet always rushed to the forefront at critical moments.’

‘Was she buried beneath all this?’

“Hey…”

Lu Hongzhuang’s voice emerged dry and hoarse.

She extended a foot, gently nudging aside a piece of rubble.

“You… weren’t you the one who valued your life the most?”

“We… we still have scores to settle between us…”

She bent down, beginning to move the heavy bricks by hand; sharp edges of stone tore at her palms, drawing blood, yet she remained utterly oblivious to the pain.

“How could you…”

“How could you leave first!”

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