Apocalypse Gachapon Chapter 2003: Survival

"It's over."

Jie Su uttered these words too.

Suddenly, his hands that had remained still thrust ahead. The wild energy around him halted briefly, then erupted like it had discovered a release, slamming entirely into the Armored Thorn Race assassin who kept launching furious assaults at Jie Su.

The assassin shot away instantly, resembling a kite whose string had snapped.

Jie Su pulled back his hands. Noticing that the assassin, after somersaulting far through the sky and smashing into a nearby structure, hadn't collapsed—obviously still alive, with wounds lighter than he expected—he lifted his hands once more, fingers flicking rapidly in a light rhythm.

"If you can endure these strikes, then congratulations—you can take my life." The cold detachment in Jie Su's voice sent chills through the heart. "If you can't, then death awaits you."

While he spoke, the light pattern arrays hovering above his head and under his feet started to warp and disintegrate. Line after line, they hurtled swiftly toward the Armored Thorn Race member.

Earlier, Jie Su had wielded beams of light slashes focused on cleaving. This time, slender light threads targeted piercing.

The Armored Thorn Race member let out a shrill scream. Bone spines from her feet burst forth one by one, soaring at the light lines. Upon each clash, a bone spine detonated outright, yet the corresponding light line vanished as well.

For a moment, the area between them echoed with endless explosive bangs. Still, the Armored Thorn Race member's bone spines were finite in number. Once they were all spent, the surviving light strands—perhaps due to her prior wounds or another factor—plunged unimpeded into the female assassin's body.

A torrent of blood spurted from her form. After all, these light strands faded upon impact. With countless punctures riddling her body, her blood nearly drained away in seconds.

Yet the Armored Thorn Race member laughed maniacally, her savage face pocked with holes.

Her mouth parted, but no words emerged. In the next instant, her body ballooned abruptly, then erupted with a resounding hong, transforming into a churning blob of flesh and blood enveloped in surging energy that barreled toward Jie Su to crush him.

That explained her laughter, Jie Su realized inwardly, a grim look crossing his features.

In truth, he lacked full mastery over the Following Formation. His power fell short for commanding it properly. Had today not forced him into a desperate life-or-death struggle, he never would have unveiled this ultimate secret of the Su Clan.

Regrettably, the enormous energy demands of the Following Formation overwhelmed his present physique. Having expended his final reserves, he stood helpless against this assassin's bizarre final technique, which enabled one last assault even in her mutilated state.

Jie Su perceived the complexity of that flesh-and-blood mass; it fused the assassin's pre-death essence with portions of the light line energy he had unleashed moments ago. In his depleted condition, forget surviving it—even at full strength, taking it directly remained uncertain.

His eyes shut, a profound regret surging within. Far too many goals remained unfulfilled: witnessing his brother White Robe's wedding, watching the promising Ye Zhongming mature, achieving his dream of elevating the Su Clan...

The flesh-blood energy orb hadn't struck yet, but its foul stench had. Jie Su braced for oblivion, indifferent to it all. Abruptly, a powerful impact struck his body, hurling him sideways.

Stunned briefly, Jie Su grasped that someone had slugged him—hard, yet without lethal intent, as the blow targeted his upper arm. He saw the aim: simply shove him clear.

Even so, in the heat of crisis, gauging the force proved tricky. Too weak, and it fails; too strong, and it dooms the unguarded Jie Su. Thus, upon hitting the ground, he sensed his arm bone had likely fractured.

Compared to preserving his life, such a wound meant little.

He pushed himself up slightly and glanced over, spotting a golden-masked warrior gasping for breath, eyes brimming with the joy of calamity averted.

………………………………

"It wasn't very useful, but it could buy time."

Only when Ye Zhongming spoke these words did Qiemen fail to grasp their meaning—until a wave of deadly peril descended upon him.

In the pivotal instant, the elite assassin's instincts shone through. He subtly shifted his body's angle, channeling the power inside him to a precise spot on his back. At the same time, his hand dropped a fraction, materializing a crystal-clear curved blade in his grip.

The space he had completely sealed burst open without warning. A massive fist silhouette smashed through from the rear, slamming into Qiemen's back.

The impact landed right on the area he had deliberately exposed.

Qiemen sported long hair. Mistaking it for mere style or taste would be a grave error. Right then, it acted as a shield.

The once柔软 hair strands hardened and straightened instantly, forming a steel-like barrier against the enormous fist shadow.

A resounding hong echoed as his long hair exploded into fragments like shrapnel. The weakened fist shadow then pressed against his back.

The immense impact jolted his body fiercely before hurling him forward. And the path of his flight... headed straight for Ye Zhongming.

Even amid mortal danger, this assassin remembered his duty: eliminate the target.

Ye Zhongming's expression darkened.

He felt certain aid would arrive due to his trust in the Library Palace. This spot wasn't far from it—actually, it lay squarely within their core zone of control. Eight hundred fifty Librarians lurked within the city. Why breach a section of this space? Beyond allowing the devoted golden warrior to flee, it aimed to reveal the scene to all eyes.

He trusted the Librarians would rush over. He even suspected he wouldn't need to endure long; maybe some Librarians guarded him covertly from nearby.

Truthfully, his hunch was half correct. Librarians did trail him, but they stopped at the restaurant door. Still, proximity to the Library Palace proved key. Spotting trouble, the closest Librarian hurried to assist.

From the darkness emerged a figure in a black robe. Eyeing the Phantom Killer Clan assassin still intent on using momentum to slay Ye Zhongming, he scoffed. Raising his free hand, he conjured a colossal palm shadow—like the earlier fist—right before Ye Zhongming, slapping at the airborne Qiemen.

A sharp pa rang out as the Phantom Killer Clan's leader got knocked away.