Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 890: Blood Feud

As the words fell.

Chen Huaian flicked his finger.

Dang——!

A ring of air rippled outward from the flicking finger.

The Battle Soul of the Great Mount Sumeru Rod in Tang Ritian's hand instantly shattered, and the exploding fragments rained down on him like a violent storm, blasting him away. He crashed through who knows how many giant trees, disappearing into the boundless twilight at the forest's edge.

"Father!"

Tang Er glanced in the direction Tang Ritian had been blasted, unable to even see his father's silhouette anymore.

He then turned his head to look at Li Qingran.

Li Qingran stood there, holding the Su Xian Sword in one hand, silver-white energy flowing around her body, the surrounding space tearing inch by inch.

As a transmigrator, Tang Er knew exactly what that silver-white energy flow was.

—That was Sword Qi.

He had already been shocked by the Sword Qi originally emanating from Li Qingran.

The Sword Qi erupting now was even more terrifying.

And this Sword Qi did not come from Li Qingran herself, but from that special Battle Soul behind her, that white-clothed swordsman.

The white-clothed swordsman also held a sword in one hand. As he stood up, the Sword Qi around Li Qingran grew even more violent, attacking everything around indiscriminately, leaving densely packed sword marks on the ground, emitting a grating "sizzling" sound.

"My wife is someone you can touch? And uproot the grass to prevent regrowth? Hmph—!"

Chen Huaian discovered he could speak again.

This Million-Year World Ring seemed to have lifted one-tenth of his seal.

In his current Battle Soul form, he could already mobilize one-tenth of a Golden Immortal's power.

A Million-Year World Ring only bought this much.

He was a bit dissatisfied.

But he had no choice but to accept it.

"Senior! There's some misunderstanding here!"

Tang Er sensed something and quickly knelt before Li Qingran and Chen Huaian, kowtowing his way forward step by step, trembling as he said: "My father's temper is just like that, he was also acting for the safety of me and Little Rabbit.

I know you are very angry, you can vent any rage on me.

Please, spare my father's life!"

"Spare his life?"

Chen Huaian scoffed, his eyes cold.

"If I weren't here today, my wife would have been slapped to death by your father!

And you would only think my wife died pitifully, could you resurrect her?

Or could you stop your father from killing my wife?

You can do nothing.

Therefore, you have no right to stop me now!

Debts have their creditors, grievances have their source. Your father's debt shall naturally be borne by your father himself!"

Before his words faded.

A weak roar sounded from deep within the forest.

"Tang Er, run!"

"Take Little Rabbit and run!"

"Run?" Chen Huaian raised an eyebrow, took a step forward, and in the next instant, he was already standing before Tang Ritian deep in the forest with Li Qingran. "Is there a need to run?"

He looked down condescendingly at this being who could be considered T0-level in the Canglan World.

Legendary Battle Master.

Below the demigods, this was likely the strongest power, right?

Judging by the aura, roughly equivalent to somewhere between the Unity Realm and Void Shattering Realm of the Cangyun Realm.

At this moment, Tang Ritian's condition was extremely poor.

Although Chen Huaian had merely flicked his finger,

that single finger contained the sword path he had comprehended all the way to the Golden Immortal realm.

That seemingly ordinary flick not only shattered Tang Ritian's Battle Soul but also displaced his internal organs, as if scraped by layer upon layer of Sword Qi.

At the bottom of the crater.

Mud mixed with blood, emitting a nauseating stench.

Tang Ritian lay on his back, his chest caved in.

The arrogance that once made the entire Canglan Realm tremble in fear,

now reduced to only a few gasps like a broken bellows.

He struggled to open his eyes, his vision blurred by blood,

only able to vaguely see that figure standing by the crater's edge, clad in white purer than snow.

High above.

Unstained by dust.

Like a deity looking down upon a dying ant.

"Cough... cough..."

Tang Ritian spat out a mouthful of black blood mixed with organ fragments, painfully pulling the corner of his mouth into a smile uglier than crying.

"Senior, I, I... admit defeat."

He had kicked an iron plate, and it was his own bones that shattered.

He had no complaints.

"Senior... I'll pay for this life with mine."

Tang Ritian gasped, his voice weak, yet carrying a father's final humility and plea: "But my son caused no real harm to your esteemed wife, he is innocent..."

"Misfortune should not extend to wives and children... that's the jianghu rule."

"I beg you... spare him a path to live."

Chen Huaian looked at him indifferently.

Withered yellow leaves, stirred by the wind whistling through the canopy, descended to land upon Tang Ritian's blood-streaked countenance.

"Rules of the Jianghu?"

A hint of derision touched the corners of Chen Huaian's lips.

"When you were moments away from ending my wife's life, did you give any thought to the jianghu's rules?"

Tang Ritian found himself rendered speechless, the light in his eyes instantly extinguished—a profound despair settling in.

"However..."

Chen Huaian's tone shifted, becoming as placid as if discussing commonplace weather.

"This Venerable One is not one for wanton bloodshed."

"You sought to kill my wife, so I have taken your life. A life for a life; a fair exchange."

He inclined his head slightly, his gaze appearing to penetrate the dense forest foliage and fix upon the distant figure of a youth scrambling and crawling in frantic haste toward them.

"As for that little brat..."

The adage, 'Uproot the weeds entirely, lest they return with the spring breeze,' holds true."

Chen Huaian withdrew his gaze, bringing two fingers together, a frigid glint flickering at their tips.

"But this Venerable One shall not concern himself with such matters."

"That is the worry of the feeble."

"Should that blade of grass dare to sprout anew, should it dare to reappear before this Venerable One again..."

He addressed Tang Ritian, each syllable delivered with deliberate clarity:

"This Venerable One will... simply unleash his sword once more."

Tang Ritian remained in stunned silence.

Then, a complex tapestry of emotions surged within his clouded eyes.

Relief, gratitude, and also... a profound sorrow.

With such a perspective, it was difficult to fathom the sheer might of this white-robed swordsman in life...

No, even in death, transformed into a Battle Soul, he still possessed an astonishing level of power.

This individual... must never be made an adversary.

Yet, the opportunity to impart his final counsel to Tang Er had vanished.

He could only fervently hope that Tang Er would not be so foolish as to pursue vengeance against Li Qingran.

"Th... Thank you."

Slowly, his eyelids drifted shut.

Tilting his neck upwards, akin to a condemned prisoner awaiting the executioner's blade,

or like a weary traveler finally setting down an insurmountable burden.

"Proceed."

Chen Huaian wasted no further words.

With a mere, light flick of his sleeve.

Swish.

An exceptionally fine, swift, and faint white line traced a fleeting path through the air. It resembled a painter's casual stroke, a mere sketch upon the void.

Tang Ritian maintained his upward-gazing posture,

only for the rising and falling of his chest to cease abruptly.

That sword strike was immeasurably fast. Swift enough to sever the very boundary between life and death, leaving no time for the flesh to even register the impact.

A few breaths later.

Sss—

A delicate crimson line materialized along Tang Ritian's neck.

His life force extinguished.

The legendary Battle Master, the era's Haotian, met his demise thus.

Chen Huaian cast no further glance upon the fallen corpse.

He turned, his formidable Sword Intent instantly receding, reverting to the gentle, jade-like demeanor of the young master clad in white.

"Let us depart."

He took the hand of the silent Li Qingran at his side.

"The miasma of blood pervading this forest is too potent; it assaults the senses."

Li Qingran nodded obediently, allowing him to guide her.

The pair transformed into streaks of light, vanishing into the distant horizon.

...

An indeterminate span of time elapsed.

The heavens began to darken.

Lead-grey clouds descended, appearing as though they might graze the treetops.

Rustle...

The wind intensified.

Delicate snowflakes commenced their descent from the clouds, drifting down in profusion,

soon to drape this blood-soaked forest in a mantle of somber, unadorned white.

"Father!!!"

A heart-rending roar shattered the forest's profound silence.

Tang Er stumbled into the devastation.

His attire was torn by thorns, his body coated in mud, his once-handsome visage contorted with terror and burgeoning panic.

Little Rabbit followed closely in his wake, eyes brimming with tears, utterly silent.

Tang Er surged forward, reaching the precipice of the immense crater.

His forward momentum halted abruptly.

The snowfall grew progressively heavier.

Pure white flakes settled upon Tang Ritian's face, upon the chest that would never again rise or fall.

And upon that... stark, shocking line of blood.

"Fa... Father?"

Tang Er extended a trembling hand, a desperate urge to awaken the man who, though perpetually taciturn, had always been his shield against life's tempests.

The instant his fingertips made contact with the skin.

Cold.

Rigid.

Thud.

At his touch, the head, covered in stubble, slowly tilted to one side, ultimately rolling to rest upon the snow-covered ground.

At the severed neck, the long-congealed black blood formed a grotesque semblance of a mocking mouth.

"Ah..."

Tang Er's mouth gaped open, a peculiar, choked "heh heh" sound emanating from his throat, as if some unseen force was constricting his windpipe.

His entire world disintegrated in that singular moment.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

Tang Er suddenly seized the head, collapsing to his knees in the snow, unleashing a mournful wail that echoed like a cuckoo's lamentation.

Agony.

Regret.

Frenzy.

An avalanche of emotions erupted within his chest, culminating in two rivulets of blazing, crimson tears that coursed down the corners of his eyes, burning deep scarlet pits into the pristine white snow.

The Demonic Pupils lost all semblance of control at this critical juncture.