Chapter 469 - 281: The Might of the Curse Seal, Controlling a Late Stage
Chapter 469: Chapter 281: The Might of the Curse Seal, Controlling a Late Stage
This feeling... It meant that from now on, her life and death rested on a single thought from the Green Robe Cultivator before her!
"No!"
Everything had happened, had changed, in the blink of an eye.
It was something Ye Qingwu simply couldn’t accept.
She had been plotting and scheming for a long time, meticulously and cautiously. The core of her plan was to reclaim the opportunity that was rightfully hers. She had even planned for the aftermath, considering every last detail. Everything was supposed to be under her control!
And everything had been proceeding according to her arrangements, with almost no deviation from her predictions.
But just like that... something unexpected had happened!
That unremarkable Green Robe Cultivator, his face weathered and lined with wrinkles, looked at a glance like some pitiful Loose Cultivator. He gave her the impression that he had only reached his current Realm through great hardship, but in reality, his methods were terrifyingly inscrutable.
She had treated this with the utmost seriousness on both a strategic and tactical level, playing her ultimate trump card right from the start.
She had used her trump card: the Gu Refining Secret Technique.
And yet, she had been crushed so completely that she never even had a chance to make a second move.
It was so one-sided, it was as if she were the one in the Middle Stage Foundation Establishment Realm, and he was the one in the Late Stage.
"How is this possible... It must be an Illusion Realm! An Illusion Realm!"
Ye Qingwu was incredulous. Her bewitching face was filled with terror as she shook her head, as if trying to dispel the illusion.
The Curse Seal deep within her Divine Soul, a festering plague radiating an aura of destruction, and the undeniable feeling of absolute control—that her life and death were not her own—were cruelly telling her... all of this was real!
The "illusion" was real; her denial was useless. Despair, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed her Heart and Spirit.
Just then, Lin Changheng’s voice, so cold it was devoid of any emotion, pierced her ears like a shard of ice:
"Illusion Realm? Then I shall force you to face reality."
With a single thought, he activated the Divine Blood Curse Seal branded in Ye Qingwu’s mind!
"AGHAAAAAA—!"
Ye Qingwu let out a shrill scream that cracked in pitch. It was as if an invisible, immense force was strangling her. She crumpled to the ground, convulsing violently.
She felt as if she’d been thrown into a raging inferno, or repeatedly pierced by countless red-hot steel needles. The physical agony was a thousand times more intense than any form of torture she had ever heard of.
At the same time, an indescribable sensation arose—like a thousand insects crawling on her skin and ten thousand ants gnawing at her heart. It made her wish for death. It was a hellish torment that even a Late Stage Foundation Establishment Cultivator could not withstand or endure.
In the next instant, the Magical Power she had covertly gathered for a counterattack completely dispersed. All other thoughts vanished. Soon, she couldn’t even move a finger; only her soul-tearing wails proved she was still alive.
The pain lasted for a mere three breaths, but to Ye Qingwu, it felt like an eternity of a hundred years.
Lin Changheng stopped activating the Curse Seal.
Ye Qingwu lay limp on the cold ground like a fish out of water, gasping for breath. Her entire body was soaked in cold sweat, her colorful robes disheveled—a truly wretched sight.
A pair of black boots slowly approached. STEP, STEP, STEP... They came to a halt in front of her, right in her line of sight.
"Now, do you still feel this is an Illusion Realm?" The voice came from above. Someone was looking down on her, their tone placid yet carrying an authority that could not be questioned.
Ye Qingwu struggled to lift her head. Her gaze traveled up from the black boots, past the green robe, and finally settled on his indifferent face.
"Mr. Lin, no matter what, I am a Steward of the Purple Extreme Sect. Please, spare me..."
"I am willing to do everything I can to compensate for my transgression..."
The woman unfastened the Storage Bag from her waist and presented it to Lin Changheng, all while continuing to bargain. She promised him benefits and tried to leverage the name of the Purple Extreme Sect to pressure him, seeking a chance to escape.
"If I kill you, everything you own will be mine anyway. You think it’s reasonable to use my things to buy your life?"
It was as if Lin Changheng had heard the world’s most hilarious joke. The corners of his mouth curved upward, but the expression was completely devoid of warmth, revealing only an icy chill.
Ignoring the woman’s delirious words, he reached out and snatched the Storage Bag. Then, he nonchalantly uttered three words. His voice wasn’t loud, but it boomed like thunder in Ye Qingwu’s heart:
"Submit... or die!"
In that instant, without giving Ye Qingwu any room to think or bargain, the Divine Blood Curse Seal branded in her mind pulsed violently once more!
VMMMM—!
A will of destruction, far clearer and more terrifying than before, emanated from the depths of the Curse Seal like an awakening primordial beast!
Besides the pain, Ye Qingwu could clearly "see" that she was teetering on the edge of an erupting volcano. All it would take was a single thought from the man before her, and the dark-gold flames of destruction would erupt, incinerating her very existence and leaving no chance for reincarnation.
It wasn’t a threat, but a reality that could materialize in the very next instant!
All her wishful thinking, all her machinations, all the things she relied on—they all seemed so laughable and pathetic in the face of this absolute difference in power and his control over her life and death.
Ye Qingwu’s delicate body trembled violently as the color drained from her face. Her last shred of courage to struggle was completely crushed by this merciless declaration of death.
She went limp, collapsing to the ground. With great effort, she lifted her head to look at the figure who seemed as indifferent as a god or a demon. She finally abandoned all resistance, all other thoughts. Her once-proud head bowed low as she squeezed a trembling voice from the depths of her throat, thick with despair, submission, and the clear sound of tears:
"Ye Qingwu... is willing to submit... Master..."