Chapter 147: A Lie From the Start
Ruru Rosa and Cade Barret, their Eighth Layer auras dimmed by their own desperate use of the Blood Burning Technique in the shrine, struggled to rise, their bodies battered, blood seeping from their lips. Ruru’s hair clung to her pale face, her voice a weak, defiant hiss. "You’re... falling apart, Quinn!"
Cade, gripping his shield, coughed violently, his gruff tone raw. "You’re done for!" But their weakened states posed no real threat, their Blood Burning Technique having sapped their strength, leaving them vulnerable.
Lordi Payne, however, stood firm, his Blade of Life Hater gleaming under the moonlight, his Seventh Layer aura thrumming at near-full strength. His feigned injuries—staged with theatrical coughs and blood—had fooled them all, a cunning ruse that kept him unscathed while Shirley’s calculations crumbled.
In fact, even back in the Martial Arts Arena, Rodney Luther, a peak Ninth Layer cultivator, couldn’t fell Lordi swiftly. Now, Shirley, her soul half-devoured by the Ancient Stone Well’s horrors, her body crippled and decaying, faced a foe she’d underestimated. Her initial strike, meant to kill in one blow, had lacked the force to end him, costing her the initiative.
Regret and hatred churned in Shirley’s gut, her lone right eye narrowing to a venomous slit, the empty socket on her left oozing dark ichor.
"Fucking sinister brat!" she snarled, her voice a discordant rasp, half-melodic, half-guttural.
If she’d known Lordi was faking his injuries, she’d have played her hand differently—slipped poison into his restoration pills or struck from the shadows with a stealthy dagger. Anything would’ve been cleaner than this messy confrontation. Her crimson blood aura flared, the Blood Burning Technique pushing her diminished Ninth Layer strength to its limits, cherry blossoms scattering like ash in her wake.
"Hmph!" she hissed inwardly, her mind racing with cold calculation. "I’m free of the Hanz Clan estate now. That cursed thing from the rear mountain can’t chase me to devour the rest of my soul." Her killing intent surged, a tidal wave of malice flooding the forest. "... I can risk everything to survive!"
——
The Water Lily Lake, nestled in the southeast of the Hanz Clan estate’s rear mountain, lay hushed under the twilight’s embrace, its surface a shimmering mirror of molten gold and dusky violet. Water lilies drifted like scattered dreams, their petals—some tender pink, others ghostly white—unfurled to catch the fading light, their glowing centers pulsing faintly, as if cradling the sun’s last whispers. The air carried their sweet perfume, mingling with the damp earth and the soft, green breath of willow branches trailing languidly in the water, their tips stirring delicate ripples. Beyond the shore, the twin peaks of the hill rose in a graceful arc, silhouetted against a sky bleeding lavender and indigo, their curves like the brow of a slumbering beauty, mysterious and serene. The lake trembled with their colors, each ripple a fleeting stroke of dusk’s fading palette.