darknovel Chapter 228 She hated so much her hands were shaking
Chapter 228 She hated so much her hands were shaking
After reapplying the concealment talismans, the three continued eastward.
The plains were gradually replaced by low hills, and the ground changed from withered yellow grass to gravel and sand.
Mo Chengyue walked at the front, his footsteps barely making a sound on the gravel.
Yu Jianhuan followed in the middle, and finally couldn't stop talking.
"Junior brother, your assessment of that battle just now was that 'wrapping rice dumplings was a waste of spiritual energy'?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you praise me for how swiftly and cleanly I killed those four demon generals?"
"Anything that's deemed satisfactory doesn't need praise."
Yu Jianhuan gritted her teeth.
Su Qingying, standing behind, couldn't help but smile slightly, then quickly suppressed her smirk.
The three walked along the edge of the hills, and the terrain gradually became strange.
Huge, incomplete stone statues began to appear on the gravelly ground.
Some only had half a torso left, while others had only one arm sticking out diagonally from the ground.
Some of them are heads that are two zhang tall, lying tilted in the sand and gravel, their facial features blurred by wind erosion.
The stone statue is not made of ordinary rock; its surface retains extremely faint spiritual energy fluctuations.
It resembles the remains of some kind of ancient formation or building.
Mo Chengyue slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over the stone statues.
This area is situated between hills and plains, offering open views but also numerous obstructions.
Those broken stone statues serve as natural shelters.
It is suitable for hiding and also for ambushing.
He involuntarily became more vigilant.
When the three of them had walked about two hundred feet into the group of stone statues, Mo Chengyue suddenly stopped.
His divine sense detected an extremely faint but continuous tremor within a ten-zhang radius.
It doesn't come from the ground, it comes from the air.
The aftershocks of the collision of spiritual energy.
Moreover, they are two completely different types of spiritual energy.
A sharp and fierce aura, carrying the violent bloodlust unique to the demon race.
Another, equally violent but sharper sound, like the tearing of metal.
The intensity of the collision between the two far exceeded the chaotic battle between the demon race and the monster race in the valley just now.
Far exceeding.
Mo Chengyue raised his hand and clenched it into a fist.
Yu Jianhuan and Su Qingying stopped at the same time.
The three of them crouched behind a half-stone statue, and Mo Chengyue slowly extended his divine sense forward.
The concealment talisman made his spiritual fluctuations so weak as to be almost non-existent, but the detection range was also compressed to the limit.
He could only sense that about five hundred feet ahead, two massive sources of spiritual energy were constantly colliding, entangled, and clashing.
It was a familiar aura—the bloodline of the Peacock Demon Clan.
The ancient golden core within Mo Chengyue's body, infused with Jin Qiaoqiao's peacock demon blood, was now generating a faint but clear resonance.
It's Jin Qiaoqiao.
Another burst of spiritual energy—gold mixed with inky black, sharp as a knife, each burst seemed to tear space apart.
Mo Chengyue's pupils suddenly contracted.
He recognized that aura.
We don't know each other.
It's etched into the bones.
Young Master Dapeng.
The moment heavy memories surfaced in Mo Chengyue's mind.
In the wilderness, Yu Jianhuan lay on the ground, covered in blood, with his eyes closed.
His fingers clenched uncontrollably.
The fingernails dug into the palm, causing blood to seep from it.
A very soft, suppressed, distorted breathing sound came from behind me.
Mo Chengyue knew Yu Jianhuan's condition without even turning around.
She had more reason to hate him than he did.
That person almost left her there forever on the battlefield.
Mo Chengyue felt Yu Jianhuan's hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist, his entire arm trembling.
It's not fear.
It was hatred so intense that I couldn't control my muscles.
He turned his head.
There was no trace of allure or coquettishness in Yu Jianhuan's phoenix eyes, only pure and undisguised killing intent.
Her lips moved without uttering a sound, but Mo Chengyue read out those two words.
"Kill him."
Mo Chengyue stretched out his left hand and placed it on Yu Jianhuan's shoulder.
It wasn't very powerful, but it was very stable.
Yu Jianhuan's trembling gradually subsided.
She looked into Mo Chengyue's eyes.
Mo Chengyue didn't speak, but slowly shook his head.
Then he pointed with his eyes to the two colliding spiritual energies five hundred feet away.
The meaning is clear.
Going out now would be tantamount to sending oneself between two powerful demons in their transformation stage.
It's not revenge, it's suicide.
Yu Jianhuan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again.
The killing intent remained, but a layer of rationality had been added.
Su Qingying squatted on the other side, with the Jade Spirit Sword across her lap, her gaze calmly fixed on the direction of the spiritual energy collision ahead.
She didn't speak, but her fingers silently tapped the spine of the Azure Spirit Sword twice.
Mo Chengyue understood.
That was the secret code they agreed upon when practicing formations in the secret room.
Two taps—"I'm ready, waiting for instructions."
Mo Chengyue lowered his body and moved forward a hundred feet using the broken stone statue as cover.
Yu Jianhuan and Su Qingying followed silently.
As the distance closed, the information received by the divine sense became much clearer.
The battlefield was about four hundred feet ahead, in the center of a more densely packed group of stone statues.
Many stone statues were shattered into rubble by the battle, and the rising dust formed a hazy curtain in the air.
Mo Chengyue found a relatively complete stone statue—the lower half of some kind of humanoid warrior, which was broken off and missing from the waist up.
He crouched behind the stone statue, cautiously peeking out half of his head.
The battlefield was clearly visible from four hundred feet away.
Jin Qiaoqiao—no, she should be called the Peacock Princess—is currently in her half-human, half-demon fighting form.
One of the three peacock feathers that were spread out behind him was broken, and the remaining two were much dimmer.
The feathers that once shimmered with iridescent light now only retain a faint glow.
Her human form was still unbelievably beautiful, but there was blood at her temples.
The sleeve of his left arm was torn, revealing several deep claw marks on the exposed skin, some even showing bone.
The young master of the Great Peng stood sixty feet away from her.
The last time Mo Chengyue saw the young master of the Great Roc, the other party was in his complete form as a Golden-Winged Roc, blotting out the sky and the sun.
At this moment, the young master of the Great Roc is still in human form, but his condition is clearly not as good as before.
His hair was disheveled, and his once golden pupils were now mostly dark.
Most importantly, Mo Chengyue noticed that the young master of the Great Peng's right arm was black from the elbow down, as if it had been burned by some kind of force and had not recovered.
The aftereffects of burning the source.
Mo Chengyue recalled that during his tribulation, the young master of the Great Roc had burned his own essence to escape from his mutated lightning tribulation.
The damage from that fire has yet to heal.
His strength is no longer at its peak.
A glint flashed in Mo Chengyue's eyes.
That wasn't sympathy, nor was it relief.
It is the calm confirmation of a hunter when he discovers a weakness in his prey.
On the battlefield, the clash between Jin Qiaoqiao and the young master of Dapeng has shifted from intense to a different form—a war of attrition.
Neither of them went all out; instead, they probed, moved around, and looked for each other's weaknesses.
But it is visibly clear that both sides are declining.
With each flap of Jin Qiaoqiao's peacock feathers, the fluorescence became weaker than the last.
When the young master of the Great Roc condensed his golden-black spiritual power on the blade, there were occasional brief interruptions.
Like a lamp that is about to burn out, the wick struggles between light and shadow.
But Young Master Dapeng didn't stop talking.
His voice cut through the smoke and dust, carrying a deliberate air of ease and malice.
"Jin Qiaoqiao, do you think that human boy is still alive?"