Chapter 899: Chapter 530: The Autumn Air Is Brisk—A Suitable Day for Killing (Part 1)
Zhao Rong felt that this might be the last time in his life that he could stand strong in front of Gui.
In fact, just an incense stick ago, in that small bamboo forest courtyard where the bamboo leaves had all fallen, he should have died.
Yet surprisingly, due to a small ‘accident’, he had lived to reach this point.
Is this the protagonist’s privilege? I finally got a taste of this kind of treatment? But… can’t I get the full package, like heavenly soldiers descending to take away that old tormentor behind me?
At this moment, Zhao Rong, in a half-bloodied garment, was supporting his sword with one arm, laughing and panting, as he sprinted alone through the dark and oppressive tomb passage.
Not long ago, he told Gui that he wanted to live.
Yet now, Zhao Rong was in the solemn imperial mausoleum where the Emperor of Great Li had just been interred.
“Heh, I wonder how long this mausoleum can hold off that old beast, huff huff huff… I came in relying on the mechanical techniques and maps of those mausoleum craftsmen. That old beast doesn’t have any specific mechanical techniques and has missed the specific shenshi time period, so it’s much harder to enter, he can only force his way in… cough cough, huff huff huff—!”
He grinned, but his breathing became increasingly rapid as he ran.
While gasping, a bellows-like sound came from deep within his throat, and he occasionally coughed violently.
Gui couldn’t help but say, “Hey, are you okay?”
“Nonsense, do I look okay? Cough cough cough…” Zhao Rong nodded and cursed with a smile, but as he laughed, he doubled over, coughing violently again.
He wanted to raise his right hand to cover his mouth, but then realized that his right arm had been left forever in that bamboo forest courtyard, and the phantom limb sensation after losing the arm had misled his subconscious.
However, by the time Zhao Rong realized this, it was too late, and the action of reaching with his severed right arm caused him to stumble as he ran.
“Bang————!”
The young Confucian scholar lost his balance and fell heavily onto the cold, hard tomb passage floor.
It’s unknown where the stones for these floor tiles were quarried from, but they were dark, cold, and the chill seeped into his bones.
Zhao Rong’s right cheek pressed against the floor, his eyelid twitching in pain and turning blue.
“Ugh… ah.” His forehead rested on the ground, while one hand propped his body up, struggling to maintain a balanced stance.
At this moment.
Boom————!
Boom————!!
Accompanied by a thunderous sound, Zhao Rong felt as if the tomb passage from all directions was like a thin steel cable in high altitude, trembling violently under the force of a fierce wind.
He quickly reached out his left hand, gripping the nearby wall, leaving a bloody handprint, barely maintaining his balance.
However, from above, dust and small stones constantly fell, occasionally striking his head, eyelashes, and nose…
Since Zhao Rong entered, the entire mausoleum had been like this, with a tremor shaking the earth and mountains every interval, as if some ‘unknowable giant beast’ was crashing and shaking it with brute force.
Stabilizing his stance, the young Confucian scholar continued to run forward while supporting his sword, turning back to laugh and curse:
“Chase your father, is it so urgent to recognize your ancestors?”
A disfigured old Confucian scholar was attempting to break through the prohibitions outside the mausoleum using force, and from the sound of it, Zhao Rong noticed that these tremors were getting louder each time. He didn’t know how long this mausoleum could hold and block that old beast.
“Damn it, Gui, those craftsmen said that the array prohibitions of this mausoleum were apparently built to defend against a Heavenly Will Realm cultivator. Heaven isn’t giving me much face, it seems, my luck as the child of destiny isn’t all that great. If a Golden Core Realm cultivator is determined to break in, the mausoleum might not hold for long.”
The Sword Spirit surprisingly calm, “You know it well, and people are alive, but mechanisms are dead. If that old beast wants to act like a fly, he might soon find a gap to squeeze through.”
Zhao Rong’s steps didn’t stop, and in fact, he ran even faster, darting through corridors dizzying to outsiders.
It seemed purposeful, as he headed toward a certain place deep within the mausoleum.
While sprinting, he supported the sword hilt with his only arm, his chest heaving violently as he gasped, yet the pale lips, from excessive blood loss, still curled up, showing no trace of dejection:
“Originally, I came to the mausoleum to rescue those concubines buried with the emperor. Who would have thought I’d be running for my life here now, hahaha, the ups and downs of fate are really damn thrilling.”
The young Confucian scholar spat out a mouthful of bloody water, wiped his mouth, and continued gasping, “But speaking of which, without this mausoleum temporarily blocking him, even with Yourong’s ‘hundred miles’, I probably would have been dead by now.”
Gui softly, as if talking to himself:
“But… does it make a difference, Zhao Rong? Right now, you’re also trapped in this mausoleum, only able to run forward without looking back, but we will eventually find there’s no way out ahead, and… this might just play into that old beast’s ploy, he wants you to die suffering, as you run desperately, and he chases us like a cat with a mouse, finally savoring our despair when we’re cornered…”
“I know.”
Zhao Rong remained calm.
He shook his head, “But Gui, you’re really damn dampening.”
“I’m just stating the facts, at this point, let’s not deceive ourselves, if we must die, let it be clear, there might be a sliver of life this way.”
“A sliver of life…?”
The blood-stained and weary face of Zhao Rong slowly retracted its raised corners of the lips.
At this moment.
Boom————!!!
A terrifying tremor shook the earth and mountains, accompanied by a sky-splitting sound wave.
Zhao Rong suddenly braked, leaning his back against the cold wall of the tomb passage, planting his feet like a horse stance on the floor, stabilizing his form.