Weapons used for combat training—used on people? They work great!!!
Getting smacked till they’re ‘totally lost’.
Below, Chang Yan raised a hand and summoned fire, igniting the incoming shells and bullets midair.
Under the intense heat, the rain turned into white mist, spreading across the entire riverbank.
He instinctively looked up.
His gaze locked with Lu Ding’s.
Chang Yan waved his hand, and fire drew words in the sky.
That actually caught Lu Ding off guard. Pretty polite.
Then flames erupted from under Chang Yan’s feet, launching him into the air so he could float at eye level with Lu Ding.
How Lu Ding knew about all this, Chang Yan didn’t care to find out.
He was here. The result would come soon enough. That was enough.
“Tianli Cult’s Fire Pillar, Chang Yan. A pleasure to meet you, Corpse-Shattering Taishui. I’ve heard a lot about you. As a greeting gift, I’ll personally handle your death—gracefully and with flair. If these people from Jinshan 749 manage to keep me here, then we’ll die together.”
That earlier attitude of his? It made Lu Ding decide to let him finish speaking.
“I rarely let enemies say more than a sentence in front of me.”
“I’m honored. But I rarely waste words on enemies, either.”
Lu Ding smiled. “Then I’m honored too. In return, I’ll let you choose in a bit—either die painlessly, or suffer unimaginably and greet a death both dazzling and elegant.”
The guy wasn’t bad-looking.
With that attitude, he did deserve the Floral Coffin Death Burial.
Chang Yan spread both arms wide.
A burst of flame exploded upward, shooting dozens of meters into the sky. Mystical fire serpents wrapped around him, spiraling up from his waist to his shoulders. In the end, he stared straight at Lu Ding, eyes venomous and fierce.
“If I really lose, then please—grant me the most elegant death.”
Flames erupted from his palms as countless fire crows shot out, each flap of their wings radiating intense heat.
As the rain evaporated and fog spread, the temperature soared—anywhere it touched a normal person would be cooked on contact.
Lu Ding raised his hand, unleashing hundreds of slashes.
Fire crows burst apart in midair, their embers raining down and punching holes into the stones of the rocky flat.
Chang Yan floated backward in midair and pressed his hand down in a quick seal.
Opening move—straight into overdrive.
Pleasantries were pleasantries. Admiration was admiration. But once the fight started? It was do or die!
Flames lit in his pupils.
Fire serpents coiled up both arms to his palms, mouths wide open—firelight emerging.
[Fire Pillar's Ultimate Move: Weeping Flame Eruption]
A fire pillar several dozen meters thick roared out, streaking across the sky for hundreds of meters.
Such a terrifying attack... Chang Yan felt a touch of sorrow.
“This is my ultimate move. It’s also my respect to you.”
He didn’t believe Lu Ding could survive taking that hit head-on.
If Lu Ding actually dodged it, he had more moves ready.
The hair on the back of Chang Yan’s neck stood up.
Out of the corner of his eye, a figure blurred sideways and locked into place beside him, trailing an afterimage.
The scene snapped—tension maxed out.
Chang Yan’s eyes hadn’t even finished turning when—
He understood: the rest of his moves... yeah, probably not happening.
There was Lu Ding, fist drawn back.
Veins bulged along the back of his hand. A white mist burst from his elbow.
A low hum rang out, deep and sharp.
A Mach ring bloomed. The punch came crashing down, slicing through the air around his arm, and the surrounding white mist exploded outward from that point.
The shockwave surged outward. Raindrops falling from the sky got blown off-course, landing almost a kilometer away.
The noisy rainfall halted in an instant.
It was like the whole world went quiet.
Chang Yan looked up at the sky. The spiritual energy that used to shield his face from the rain was gone—but this time, the rain he hated stopped for a few seconds.
“Huff... really don’t wanna die on a rainy day.”
The rain picked up again.
Lu Ding’s punch didn’t knock Chang Yan flying—it shattered most of his body.
His flesh and blood? Who knows where it went.
Why not aim for the head?
Lu Ding had said he’d give him the most elegant death.
On the brink of death, Chang Yan looked at Lu Ding:
“You’re way stronger than the files said, Lu Ding. You and I—we’re alike. I didn’t die to some conspiracy or scheme. And neither should you. All I know is, behind his ear, he has a small, upside-down triangle tattoo...”
With those last words, Chang Yan’s body dropped from the sky, fell through the dissipating mist, and hit the stony bank.
Lu Ding reached out a hand toward him: “You were strong too.”
The Floral Coffin Death Burial activated quietly.
The scene shifted—waves of grass rolled as Chang Yan’s fading sight glimpsed blue skies and white clouds. The smile on his lips was all he had left.
A flower bud took root on his body and bloomed.
A tree of blossoms shot skyward, lifting the coffin up.
It exploded into a flurry of petals, vibrant in color, echoing Chang Yan’s hair.
Within each drifting petal, images appeared.
At the end, he saw his favorite sunny day.
At the moment of his death, Chang Yan’s face was strangely peaceful. The smile froze there, forever.
Until the last petal hit the ground.
Lu Ding stepped onto the tip of the grassy wave.
Flashes of Chang Yan’s file from the journey earlier flickered through his mind.
Chang Yan, Fire Pillar of the Three Extremes and Nine Pillars under the Tianli Cult. Twenty-two years old, born in a remote mountain village. His mother had been trafficked, and there was a significant age gap between his parents.
Back then, his father either beat or screamed at his mother. The sensible Chang Yan often shielded her—resulting in both of them getting beaten.
When Chang Yan was thirteen, his father struck his mother in the head during one of his outbursts. She became mentally impaired.
Then, when he was fourteen—
One day, his father came home drunk again. Seeing his wife dazed and useless around the house, he got disgusted. He picked up the family’s pestle and beat her viciously.
At fourteen, Chang Yan finally snapped.
He picked up a knife and hacked his father to death.
He fled with his mother to another province. When he was sixteen, she suddenly fell seriously ill. Chang Yan carried her on his back through the rain, trying to reach the hospital.
On the way, they begged passing cars to stop. Dozens passed—none stopped.
In the end, his mother died that rainy night. They were still two kilometers from the hospital.
That night, Chang Yan awakened his Spirit Aperture.
From then on, he joined the Tianli Cult.
In just a few years, he became the Fire Pillar of the Tianli Cult.
Thinking of this, Lu Ding reached out and pinched a falling petal between his fingers.
“So here—flowers for you, and I’ll ride through them toward the sun.”
Though they stood on opposite sides, Lu Ding had to admit—he was a real man.
That was also part of the reason he’d listened to what Chang Yan had to say.
He tucked the petal away.
Down below, Bai Hemen and Li Kai were still in the fight, joined by Jinshan 749 investigators whose numbers far outmatched the Tianli Cult.
It was a one-sided massacre.
Once everyone had been cleared out,
Only one person remained—the girl who had stood beside Chang Yan at the beginning. She was still stubbornly resisting Bai Hemen’s assault.
One move made the difference.
Her wrist was caught and twisted by Bai Hemen, corpse energy spreading up her arm.
The girl gritted her teeth and severed her own arm with a swing of the blade.
She staggered back a few steps, lifted her head to the sky.
Saw Lu Ding standing alone.
Tears streamed down her face.