Chapter 640: Chapter 569: Formation Broken_3

Shu Ci’s eyes, devoid of spirit, silver-gray pupils suddenly seemed to be infused with real life.

The long eyes blazed like fire as she gazed distantly into Baili An’s eyes and smiled faintly, “Your eyes are telling me that even you don’t believe you will survive today after facing me. I’m very curious, what drives you to dare stand before me and fight me?”

Baili An parted his lips, about to speak, but he had underestimated her capricious and overbearing nature; she acted like an unreasonable, autocratic child, posing questions but giving him no chance to respond.

A short flute made of Phoebe wood appeared in her palm.

The moment the flute appeared, the demon spectators, as if in tacit agreement, involuntarily held their breath, and despite being worlds apart, fear visibly showed on each of them.

From the tail of the flute in Shu Ci’s hand branched lush, bright green sprouts, young leaves intertwined with the glimmer of fireflies, flowers blossoming sorrowfully, clusters heavily hanging from the branches, creating an overwhelmingly beautiful sight yet containing an indescribable intent of soul summoning.

The instant she lifted the flute, the world seemed to turn into a monochrome of black and white, all soliloquy, only for her, like a drop of ink on a vast snowy field.

The only color between heaven and earth remained the flower at the flute’s tail, faintly marked with the hues of death.

In the bleak twilight, the flute traced a faint netherworld fire, as faint as the northern lights.

Suddenly, everything halted, the howling of the strong wind as if frozen, the world stagnant like a scroll of painting.

In the oppressive darkness brought by an unseen hand rolling up the scroll, the dim light was quietly devoured.

And above in the sky, like a shadow descending, the Pici Bird also vanished within this scroll.

The world in the painting completely shattered.

“All is over,” within this universe, Shu Ci could no longer sense any sign of life.

She withdrew the flute with great satisfaction, gently played it near her lips to test the tune, and turned around to seek the Boundary Eye to leave.

She closed her eyes momentarily and reopened them; the silver-gray pupils were lightly tinged with puzzling uncertainty.

Why couldn’t she feel the presence of the Boundary Eye?

In the Qingye World, the moment a battle concluded with a victor, a Boundary Eye would appear as a door to welcome her exit.

The only possibility for the Boundary Eye to not exist was that the outcome was still uncertain.

The absurd thought formed in Shu Ci’s mind, and within the quiet night’s dense and vast dome of sky, a figure like a fluttering petal fell, like clouds dispersing, appearing behind Shu Ci.

Shu Ci’s pupils suddenly widened; she still couldn’t feel any presence of life, but at that moment, she sensed the smell of cold, fresh blood.

Lifeless blood, like that which flows in the Nether River.

A cold, bony hand gently rested on Shu Ci’s head, fingertips carrying the essence of snow and blood.

The hand was insubstantial, yet beneath Shu Ci’s bare feet, the ice surface crackled loudly, fracturing deeply.

She looked down and saw the reflection of the boy beneath the windswept, snow-scattered ice, as if he had just returned from that pale world, his figure devoid of any color.

Only the short flute in his hand, its tip embedded with a bead, the color of blood red, bore the vibrant hue of world-shattering.

That brilliant color burned like a solitary flame in the white world.

Shu Ci’s gaze shifted slightly; she suddenly noticed the faint firelight starting to spread beneath her feet into a calamity, and on looking intently, she realized she was standing in a blood-red pattern.

Offering herself as an array, feeding the talisman with blood.

Beneath her feet, a vast Destruction Spirit Array, as tumultuous as a Coiled Dragon, had been unknowingly painted by someone.

The bloodiness behind her grew stronger, and Shu Ci abruptly understood.

From the start, he had not fled wounded but had used his own fresh blood to nourish the array, feeding the talisman, managing to etch such a terrifying Destruction Spirit Array during his escape.

But how had he managed it?

An array is based on talismanic principles, which usually require talisman paper to carry the Spiritual Power without dispersing.

Heaven has wind and clouds, the earth has snow.

In this world, no talisman paper was vast enough to accommodate such an enormous Destruction Spirit Array.

And yet, he had directly used the Ice Sea as the talisman paper, his body as the pen, his blood as the ink, inscribing each stroke and resonating with this world.

The illusion of this battle was absolutely fair.

Neither he nor she had ever come to this unfamiliar world before.

Since the world was unfamiliar, how had he managed to resonate with this Qingye World?

Before Shu Ci could ponder the truth further, the winding, crimson blood within the ice, regardless of how much snow fell, could not cover it up, the bright red array fire blazing fiercely.

Beneath Shu Ci’s feet, the ice layer burnt fiercely deeper until the chilling seawater reached her ankles, no more weight to support her, and that hand pressed her into the icy depths of the sea.