Chapter 110: The Decay of Immortality

“Celestial Sin Killing God, don’t go too far!” Zhuang Buxiu’s eyes hardened with a fierce light—this was the strongest reaction he could muster. Beyond this, what else could he do?

“Commander Zhuang, don’t scare me. I’m a timid man. If my hand slips and I kill this kid, the deal’s off,” Ye Xin said with a sly grin.

“State your terms,” Zhuang Buxiu said deliberately, word by word. He dared not provoke Ye Xin too much. The ruthless Celestial Sin Killing God had already brought chaos to the borders of the Great Zhao Kingdom, to the point of silencing crying children at night. The most crucial thing now was to save the hostage. Once Zhuang Shanyuan was rescued, the initiative would return to him. Yet he knew well that persuading the Celestial Sin Killing God to relent would be extraordinarily difficult.

“The terms don’t have to come from me, right?” Ye Xin shook his head. “The person is in my hands. The one who must bow is you, Commander Zhuang.”

Zhuang Buxiu understood—Celestial Sin Killing God wanted to grasp maximum control. But under the roof, one must bow. Zhuang Buxiu paused thoughtfully. “If you leave the man, I’ll let you go. When you return, as long as you take the path from the Taisui Plain, I can even clear a route for you.”

“That’s hardly sincere,” Ye Xin squinted. “I’m getting angry! Even if I don’t dare kill him on the spot, I can chop off his hands and feet. Commander Zhuang, you don’t believe me?”

“Then what do you suggest?” Zhuang Buxiu’s voice grew grave.

“I need to stay in the Great Zhao Kingdom for at least two months. Commander Zhuang, don’t rush. When we return to the Taisui Plain, you clear the way, I hand over the man—wouldn’t that be a perfect solution?” Ye Xin proposed.

“Dream on!” Zhuang Buxiu shook his head. “How do I know he’ll still be alive in two months?”

Zhuang Buxiu’s gaze flicked to the neatly arranged small boxes beside a large stone. Coupled with Ye Xin’s mention of two months, he grew even more certain of his judgment. The Celestial Sin Killing God’s real aim in this return was to seize all the treasures. That much was clear. Now, he could at least be at ease if they could reach an agreement.

“So, Commander Zhuang, what’s your decision?” Ye Xin tossed the ball back.

The grueling negotiation began. Ye Xin’s proposals were unacceptable to Zhuang Buxiu, while Zhuang’s offers were repeatedly rejected by Ye Xin. Though both sides made small concessions to show good faith, they were still far from agreement.

More than two hours slipped by. Ye Ling, Wen Rong, and the others slowly shifted in mindset.

At first glance, they had seen Zhuang Buxiu as a massive beast ready to devour them, but witnessing the entire negotiation, their perspective changed.

Zhuang Buxiu was no longer the battlefield legend commanding storms. He was an old man past sixty, desperately pleading and struggling to protect his own bloodline—pathetic and pitiable.

Ye Xin was toying with Zhuang Buxiu, who had already exhausted every ounce of strength. He wracked his brain, gauging Ye Xin's thoughts, calculating the progress of the agreement. His face paled repeatedly, a fine sheen of sweat covering his brow as he fought to parry every move.

For an elder, every second was hellish torment. Ye Xin sought to drain all of Zhuang’s energy, laying the groundwork for a fatal strike.

Was this Ye Xin’s so-called strategy? To reduce a fierce beast to a whining old dog?

As the negotiation neared its third hour, Ye Xin finally lost patience. “Commander Zhuang, I think you’re just playing games. If you won’t talk business, then forget it!”

“I’ve already made enough concessions,” Zhuang Buxiu forced a smile, suspecting Ye Xin’s usual intimidation tactics. “Or else—”

Before he could finish, a horrifying scene unfolded before him. Ye Xin’s Killing God Blade swept softly across Zhuang Shanyuan’s neck, and the young man’s head fell, the headless body collapsing backward.

What was this? Zhuang Buxiu’s spirit, already drained to its limits, failed to react immediately. As an old man, his stamina could not compare to a youth’s.

But in the next moment, clarity returned. His vision blurred, a rush of blood surged from his chest, and his body staggered.

Ye Xin’s treachery came too suddenly. Zhuang had thought the talks were near an end, an agreement imminent. Seeing his most cherished grandson decapitated was a crushing blow he could not bear.

In that instant, Zhuang Buxiu lost sight and sound, his ears ringing. He vaguely heard desperate, furious shouts: “Commander Zhuang!”

You fools! Since the enemy has torn off the mask, why not fight to the death? Why wait for my orders at this point?

He tried to raise his hand, but his body was stiff, as if a great stone pressed on his chest, sapping all his strength. And the stone was moving.

Zhuang Buxiu barely opened his eyes and saw the gleaming tip of a halberd piercing his chest.

That’s… the Painted Dragon Halberd of Yudao!

Suddenly, the halberd vanished. His body was yanked backward, but his superb horsemanship saved him from falling as he instinctively squeezed the horse’s sides with his legs.

He turned his head with effort and saw Yudao smiling gently, a pair of bright eyes burning with unshakable fanaticism. But Yudao’s gaze did not fall on him; it passed right by.

Zhuang Buxiu instantly recognized who Yudao was. He had seen that fanatical look before.

Two years ago, at the Taisui Plain, he had a chance to destroy the grievously wounded Celestial Sin Killing God, but wave after wave of fanatical soldiers formed a living flesh wall, blocking his path.

What a battle that was—the Celestial Sin Camp’s warriors marched orderly toward the abyss like fools. They laughed loudly, sang war songs.

He was the mighty Zhuang Buxiu, wielding decisive killing moves, yet trapped by that flesh wall, his spiritual power depleted. If not for the timely arrival of the Tiger Head Army, he would have paid dearly.

Zhuang Buxiu recalled some words—the rules of the Celestial Sin Camp, set by the Celestial Sin Killing God himself:

“The suffering unbearable even by me, I shall not force you to endure.

“The battles I dare not face, I shall not ask you to sacrifice.

“The temptations I cannot resist, I shall not demand you uphold your principles.

“I am one of you, your comrade. You are also me—my eyes, my ears, my sword, my will. No matter the dire straits or danger, as long as I stand before you, you must charge forward.”

When Zhuang first heard this, he found it laughable. A commander’s priority was to establish authority, not to fraternize with soldiers—how could that be?

But after the great victory at Taisui Plain, he had no joy—only despair. The Celestial Sin Killing God had escaped, and he knew he could never command such an army.

So that was it… but now, it was too late. His vision blurred.

The Zhuang family’s retainers roared and charged at Yudao, risking their lives to avenge their lord.

Yudao turned his gaze coldly. The Painted Dragon Halberd in his hand swept out, unleashing terrifying spiritual energy.

Dragon Gate Halberd… Zhuang Buxiu sensed the energy surge and understood Yudao’s intent, but was powerless to stop it.

Golden light rippled as the halberd’s power spread in all directions. The shimmering gold transformed into leaping carp, which then swelled into roaring dragons. Within a radius of more than ten meters, spiritual energy exploded wildly.

The retainers rushing at Yudao were shredded by the dragon shadows. The crimson steed Zhuang had ridden also dissolved into a blur of flesh and blood. Yudao had not targeted Zhuang Buxiu directly, but the blast threw him forward, landing more than ten meters away. His horse was half gone, struggling and neighing in a pool of blood.

Only one retainer, lacking resolve and slow to act, escaped, terrified and fleeing desperately beyond the mountain pass.

Xie En and Hao Fei appeared, riding their boundless Heavenly Wolves at full speed. Passing Yudao, they greeted him with smiles.

Though grievously wounded and struck by the Golden Carp Dragon Leap, Zhuang Buxiu’s life could be counted in seconds. Yet his vitality was tenacious; he struggled to lift his head as if searching for something.

A pair of battle boots appeared before his face. His gaze focused sharply, then strained upward.

“Commander Zhuang, two years ago you caused the deaths of nine hundred of my brothers. Today, you lie here like a dog… fate, huh…” Ye Xin said softly, then pressed the Killing God Blade against Zhuang’s neck. “Don’t rush on the way. Your Zhuang family will arrive soon—wait a little longer, so you won’t be lonely.”

With a flick of his wrist, Ye Xin’s blade severed Zhuang Buxiu’s head. Then he lifted the blade, tossing the head toward the approaching Xue Baiqi.

“Keep it safe. From now on, my fortune depends on this head,” Ye Xin said calmly.

Ye Ling, Wen Rong, and the others rushed forward, gazing into Zhuang Buxiu’s unseeing eyes, their thoughts roiling like the tide.

“Was it that simple?” Ye Xin turned to Wen Rong.

“She…” Wen Rong was at a loss for words. The seasoned general who had commanded the battlefield for fifty years was dead just like that? Could it really be as Ye Xin claimed? She found it hard to believe.

Ye Xin handed the Killing God Blade to Xue Baiqi, then turned to Yudao. “Come, let brother have a hug…”

(To be continued.)