Chapter 891: Existence
Qilin lay half-buried in the levee's cracked crater, face ashen, bloodied gums visible through parted lips. Without Azure Dragon's borrowed physical strength at 75%, Wang Zikai's punch would have killed him outright.
Drawing on his Willpower, he locked away the pain and activated Puppeteer, converting Blood Amber's Patient for his use.
Seconds later, Wang Zikai appeared above him, Zhang Wei still strapped to his back. Another punch descended.
Qilin rolled aside, cane clutched tight.
Boom! Wang Zikai's fist shattered concrete, sending debris flying. Zhang Wei pressed his face against Wang Zikai's back, cowering from the stone shrapnel.
Wang Zikai pursued Qilin with renewed intensity. Qilin, now steady on his feet, waited with cane raised, inviting the approach.
Wang Zikai grinned. An honest fight—just what he wanted.
As he closed in, his sharp nose caught a scent: rot and corruption.
Poison!
Wang Zikai leaped backward.
A wound split open on Qilin's right palm; black blood gushed out and dripped to the ground, forming a large pool of black viscous blood. Inside, there seemed to be some sort of insidious, corrupted microorganisms.
The black pool transformed into dense fog, creating a ten-meter barrier around Qilin.
"Shit, another cheater!" Wang Zikai spat. "Why won't anyone—monster or human—just fight straight up?"
"Typical of that despicable old man!" Zhang Wei's surprise quickly faded. This was exactly like Qilin.
Though Zhang Wei's Confidence granted some poison resistance, he'd focused solely on building Wang Zikai's immunity to Eidos. He couldn’t make Wang Zikai immune to poison now with only a few words.
Zhang Wei's mind raced. As Wang Zikai's second brain, he had to decide: press on or retreat?
This was his first mission. Helping Wang Zikai kill Qilin would cement his place among the Nine Scions. Even Sister Ying would have to acknowledge him.
But Patient was unpredictable. One hit could mean death for them both.
Then clarity struck as Zhang Wei analyzed the situation:
“Let me explain to you.” Qilin took another step forward. “The ultimate mission of humanity is to exist. No matter what price we must pay, humans must exist.”
"Who doesn't want that?" Zhang Wei found his voice. "Who doesn't want to live? We're all fighting for survival! You pontificate like you have the moral high ground while murdering your own kind!"
"You're wrong." Qilin's steady advance continued. "Living doesn't mean existing."
"You're out of your mind! Just a psycho!" Zhang Wei's composure cracked. Finally, he was certain—Qilin was simply insane.
"How absurd." Qilin's soft sigh carried infinite pity. "Why waste breath making you understand?"
He emerged fully from the poisonous mist. Moonlight revealed his face, freezing Zhang Wei and Wang Zikai in shock.
Qilin's left eye blazed brighter than ever, but his right socket gaped empty—or rather, his right eye had melted into black blood that streaked his face. A subtle, malevolent sweetness tainted the air.
Qilin raised his cane to the night sky, arms spread wide, voice thundering:
"Rise! Howl!"
"Dance! Sing!"
"White phoenix, bloom amid the tune of puppet!"
...
Gurgle.
While Qilin was speaking to Zhang Wei, bubbles had broken the river's surface near Qingyang Bridge. Gentle ripples grew to violent waves, laced with pulses of white energy.
As "white phoenix" left Qilin's lips, a water spout erupted skyward. When it fell, a figure remained—a white mummy, sacred yet horrifying in the moonlight.
The form was feminine, athletic and slim. Only its abdomen bore a crimson stain where something had been carved away.
It was the dead life monster from the black sarcophagus, buried in the Ni Nation desert's underground temple.
Losing his right eye, Qilin smiled with blood streaking down his lips.
"Tonight, none of you are getting out of here."