Above the execution ground, gray mist churned violently, forming a vortex as a storm gathered. Thunder rumbled across the sky, and amidst the crackling flashes of lightning, a massive face of mist emerged from the storm.
"Come fight!"
The masked man, clad in armor, made the first move. Ghostly green flames surged from the gaps in his armor, engulfing his entire body.
Raising a single hand toward the sky, the flames on his body twisted into a raging vortex, sweeping upward.
Ghostly green flames spread across the sky, forming a vast sea of fire, rippling outward as it clashed against the mist overhead.
At the same time, the misty arm pressed downward.
As the two forces collided, they began to devour and neutralize each other.
A terrifying force brewed in midair, sending shockwaves rippling in all directions. The sheer impact sent countless onlookers outside the execution grounds flying backward.
At this moment, the warriors of the Star City Military Department intervened.
A long black blade materialized out of nowhere, slicing through the air to shield the civilians from the oncoming blast wave.
Personnel wearing the uniforms of the Old Day City Military Department quickly moved to evacuate the crowd.
Meanwhile, the clash of energies in the sky reached its peak. A sinister grin appeared on the massive face within the mist.
The gray mist surged downward, tearing through the sea of ghostly green flames.
Boom!
Like a sudden clap of thunder, the entire sky trembled.
The green inferno shattered, scattering embers in every direction.
The colossal misty hand pierced through the sea of fire, reaching directly for Feng Qi, who was restrained in front of the execution blade, his body covered in wounds.
Just as the hand was about to seize him, a black blade abruptly intercepted its path.
A flowing black glow rippled along the blade's surface, carrying an aura strikingly similar to Lü Yue's sword-drawing stance, slashing toward the misty hand.
As the sword intent clashed with the gray mist, the massive face contorted in fury.
The mist surged downward with renewed force, pressing heavily against the black blade, causing it to tremble violently.
At that moment, a figure emerged behind the black blade. He grasped the hilt firmly and, with a sudden motion, slashed forward.
The movement seemed simple, yet the surrounding spiritual energy was instantly drawn toward the strike, forming a towering arc of black sword energy.
Realizing that prolonging the battle would be detrimental, the Mist Lord steeled himself.
A crimson gleam emerged from within the mist, transforming into a blood-red longsword that slashed downward, shattering the black sword energy in an instant.
After dispersing the black energy, the blood-red sword dissolved back into the sea of mist.
A blood-colored hand suddenly shot out from the mist, striking the military officer who had been blocking its path and sending him flying. It then reached once again for Feng Qi.
But by now, dozens of military personnel had already stepped forward, standing protectively in front of him.
They had realized that the gray mist—the transcendent entity looming in the sky—had set its sights on the prisoner scheduled for execution.
However, they had gravely underestimated the Mist Lord's power.
An overwhelming pressure descended upon them, causing the blood in their bodies to surge uncontrollably.
Their pupils were instantly flooded with red, and a dense network of crimson veins spread across their skin.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Explosive sounds rang out in quick succession. Before the soldiers could even mount an attack, they were killed by the Mist Lord's blood manipulation ability.
Watching from the shadows, Lingzun gazed at the misty giant with a hint of surprise.
The plan had undoubtedly succeeded—the forces standing behind Feng Qi had now revealed themselves.
However, he hadn't expected these forces to be none other than the long-vanished Mist Tribe.
He was no stranger to this faction.
In the past, the Mist Tribe had been the undisputed rulers near the ancestral domain of the Psionic Race. It was said that one of their ancestors had once broken free from the shackles of fate and achieved unparalleled power.
Before the Psionic Race had even ventured into the human world, they had been frequently bullied by the Mist Tribe.
Even as a child, Lingzun remembered the warnings passed down in his clan:
"If you don't behave, the Mist Monster will come and take you away as blood food!"
Now, staring at the Mist Lord, Lingzun's expression turned grim.
It was as if he had encountered a natural enemy. The energy within his body boiled uncontrollably.
He decided to strike.
A massive black arrow materialized out of thin air, hurtling toward the Mist Lord's chest at an astonishing speed.
The moment it struck, a surge of terrifying psionic energy was activated, rapidly draining the surrounding spiritual energy into the arrow.
Caught off guard, the Mist Lord had no time to react before the black arrow detonated.
The gray mist churned violently, with a large portion of it blasted away.
The face within the mist contorted in pain.
The corrosive psionic energy rapidly ate away at the mist, and the Mist Lord sensed multiple hidden figures beginning to emerge from the darkness.
Turning to the west, he focused his perception.
Through his blood energy senses, he could clearly detect several powerful lifeforms rapidly approaching from that direction.
Remaining here any longer would undoubtedly be a death sentence.
The Mist Lord lowered his gaze to the execution platform, where Feng Qi was bound. A resolute expression emerged in his eyes.
It wasn't until he had nearly lost everything that he realized how much it mattered.
Feng Qi was the only family he had left in this world. He didn't want to live with regret anymore. He was done with the pain of losing loved ones.
With a roar, an overwhelming surge of blood energy erupted from within the mist, staining the entire gray fog a deep crimson.
Countless enormous blood-colored hands emerged from the thick mist, reaching down toward the execution ground, attempting to break through the defensive barrier.
At that moment, the hidden members of the Psionic Race finally made their move.
A barrage of psionic spells rained down like a storm, striking the blood-red giant relentlessly.
But the Mist Lord did not retreat, not even a step.
His furious gaze remained locked onto Feng Qi, who was restrained before the guillotine. The memories in his mind surged like a raging tide.
In the snow-covered forests of the Winterfell Region, he had once thought he would die there.
But he had survived.
The moment he opened his eyes, he saw Feng Qi's warm smile.
That was the first time they met.
From then on, Feng Qi had become the only family he had left.
Outside the village near Winterfell City, he could still vividly recall how Feng Qi had risked his life to shield him from the attack of the Sword Saint.
In the depths of the Black Abyss Domain Field, Feng Qi had carried him on his back, covered in wounds, desperately running while being hunted by domain creatures.
He had fought until his vision blurred with blood, finally collapsing under the crimson dusk.
Every time Feng Qi had risked his life to save him, it reminded him of his own people, the ones who had died paving the road forward.
Back then, he had chosen to survive under the protection of his loved ones.
For that choice, he had suffered, regretted, and felt endless guilt.
After more than ten years together, he had long since come to see Feng Qi as his only family.
This time, he refused to endure that pain again.
Rather than clinging to life, he would fight to the death.
The blood energy within him surged outward, completely replacing the gray mist with an ominous crimson haze.
At this moment, the elite warriors of the Star City Military Department finally arrived at the scene.
Seeing the blood-colored giant, they immediately launched a coordinated assault.
The blood giant crumbled and reformed continuously during the battle, its scale shrinking visibly as the confrontation wore on.
Looking up at the sky, where the Mist Lord was desperately fighting his way toward the execution ground, Feng Qi's vision began to blur.
After spending over a decade together, it was impossible not to have formed a deep bond.
But he never expected the Mist Lord to throw everything away to rescue him.
He understood the Mist Lord too well.
This was someone who always calculated risks and rewards, who would never act unless victory was guaranteed.
He could recite the Mist Lord's usual words by heart.
"Ah Qi, you need to understand one thing: only fools fight head-on. The wise use strategy to maximize gains at the lowest cost."
"Superior tactics defeat armies; the greatest strategy defeats minds. This is written in ancient human texts, and I must say, humans are quite intelligent."
"Ah Qi, this is the mindset of a brute. Strength is important, but it should only be used as a last resort. You must learn to read people's emotions and thoughts—only then can you plan from the shadows and win from a thousand miles away."
"If I can use my brain, I won't lift a finger."
…
Yet now, the same person who once scorned reckless battles had chosen the very path he despised the most.
All to save him from this execution ground.
Feng Qi felt an unbearable sense of sorrow.
I've always been using you, yet you see me as family.
How absurd.
As reinforcements continued to flood the battlefield, the Mist Lord gradually began to falter.
At this moment, he was no longer the overlord of the world five hundred years in the future.
He was not yet a ruler feared by the domain factions.
He had talent and strength, yes.
But against the overwhelming forces of the Psionic Race and the Star City Military Department, he was beginning to lose ground.
Just as they thought they were about to defeat the blood mist and either capture or kill the Mist Lord, something unexpected happened.
The blood mist suddenly expanded, rapidly engulfing the entire battlefield.
The warriors surrounding the Mist Lord found themselves completely swallowed by the crimson haze.
Struggling desperately to break free, they realized, to their horror, that they could not.
Within moments, the Mist Lord's figure emerged from the crimson mist.
He landed heavily on the execution platform.
Blood dripped steadily from his body onto the ground, pooling around his feet.
With a smile that Feng Qi was all too familiar with, the Mist Lord stepped forward, leaving behind a trail of bloodstained footprints.
"Ah Qi, I'm taking you home."
The metal chains binding Feng Qi shattered as the Mist Lord tore them apart.
Bending down, he lifted the heavily injured Feng Qi onto his back.
"You shouldn't have come," Feng Qi forced out, struggling to suppress the emotions welling up inside him.
"Well, since I'm already here, what's the point in arguing about it?" The Mist Lord chuckled, unfazed.
"Let's go. We're heading back to Star City."
With that, he rose into the air, soaring away from the battlefield.
Glancing back at the blood sea still churning in the sky, he did not hesitate.
He flew straight toward the horizon.
As they traveled, his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
The blood sea was his very life source. His connection to the bloodstones had already been severed.
Abandoning the blood sea meant forfeiting his own life.
Blood trickled from his lips as he coughed, his once-vibrant face rapidly aging before Feng Qi's eyes.
But he did not stop.
With the last of his strength, he kept flying.
This time, I'll protect you.
At long last, they passed beyond the borders of Old Day City.
By now, the Mist Lord's hair had turned completely white, his face covered in deep wrinkles.
His strength had been utterly drained.
With nothing left to sustain him, he and Feng Qi tumbled down from the sky.
They crashed onto a grassy hillside.
The Mist Lord, struggling to lift his battered body, stood up shakily and once again carried Feng Qi on his back.
Step by step, he trudged forward.
Each step left behind a bloody footprint.
The setting sun painted the sky crimson.
A sign that the Mist Lord's time was running out.
Lying against the Mist Lord's back, Feng Qi's heart was heavy with sorrow.
He could feel it.
The Mist Lord had reached his limit.
This feeling of helplessness made it hard for him to breathe.
No one knew how long they had walked before, under the dim glow of the moon, the Mist Lord suddenly collapsed to the ground.
Under the moonlight, he used the last of his strength to shakily reach out, his trembling fingers tracing patterns into the dirt.
"Ah Qi… this is the trajectory of the Flesh Cauldron Ritual… Carry my dream… and continue climbing to the peak."
"You can go there yourself!"
"The essence of life, once shattered, may sometimes be reformed… but I've already lost it… I won't make it this time… Walk this path for me… See the view from the summit."
As he spoke, blood-red tears welled up in his eyes.
Once, he had feared death. But now, deep inside, he felt an unexpected sense of peace.
At least this time, he had not chosen to retreat.
As the last traces of life drained from his body, memories surged through his mind.
He had once carried the fate of the Mist Tribe on his shoulders. Now, the long, bloodstained road of conquest had finally come to an end.
I have failed my people. I am sorry…
Opening his eyes one last time, he looked at Feng Qi, eyes full of expectation.
"I've heard… that the view from the summit is breathtaking… Truly boundless freedom… No more worries, no more sorrow… Ah Qi…"
Before he could finish, his voice abruptly stopped.
The mysterious power that had once helped the Mist Lord escape death countless times failed to manifest.
All hope had been left behind in the blood sea.
At that moment, Feng Qi, too, lost consciousness.
Half a year later.
Outside Old Day City, at Dragon Scale Slope.
Before a tombstone, Feng Qi sat cross-legged, chewing on an offering, a carefree smile on his face.
"You Mist Tribe people have some really weird customs. Eating offerings for the dead—what kind of strange tradition is that? But last time, you ate mine, so I guess this time it's my turn."
"Tell me, do you think I'm cursed? Anyone who gets close to me ends up dead. You, the great Mist Lord, who should have ruled five hundred years into the future, ended up dying because of me. What kind of ridiculous fate is that?"
Feng Qi kept talking to the tombstone.
The past resurfaced in his mind, distorted by the wind and sand.
Half a year ago, after the Mist Lord carried him out of Old Day City, the Scarlet Squad had already been waiting nearby.
Using his tracker, they quickly located them, providing reinforcements and taking both of them away.
When Feng Qi woke up, the Mist Lord's body had already grown cold.
His own situation wasn't much better.
The Psionic Race had modified his body. They had never intended for him to survive.
His connection with the Demon Dragon Rune Crystal had been severed, which was equivalent to cutting off his source of life.
The Crimson Research Institute had tried countless ways to extend his lifespan.
One proposal was to implant a new rune crystal to replace the lost one. But that option was too risky.
His body had fully integrated with the Demon Dragon Rune Crystal, and introducing a new one would create an energy conflict. The probability of him surviving the process was less than 1%.
As for other solutions, none had worked.
Now, he had to rely on the genetic injections provided by the Crimson Research Institute just to stay alive.
But even that was failing.
By now, his body had developed resistance to the gene injections. His time was running out.
Swallowing the last bite of food, Feng Qi slowly got to his feet.
There was one last thing he needed to do before he left.
Over the years, with the support of the Crimson Research Institute, he had absorbed an immense amount of fragmented spiritual energy.
All for this moment.
This decision was reckless, but he didn't regret it.
People said domain creatures were cruel, but in the Mist Lord, he had seen qualities worth respecting.
Even if the whole world said the Mist Lord was a villain, he had always treated him well.
And for that alone, he would acknowledge their bond.
This time, he was going to put an end to it.
Morning mist shrouded the hillside.
Staring at the gray fog rolling in the distance, he found himself unsure—was this redemption, or was it an abyss?
A figure stepped into the mist, leaving behind a faint glimmer of light.
Outside Old Day City.
Feng Qi stood at the city gates, his gaze fixed on the towering walls of Old Day City.
"When my spirit leaves, take my head with you."
The captain of the Scarlet Squad, standing behind him, nodded solemnly.
"We're ready."
At that moment, Feng Qi released his hold on his spiritual energy.
In an instant, cracks spread across his body, and dazzling streaks of multicolored light shone through the fractures.
His physical body lasted only a moment before it was completely torn apart by the surge of spiritual power.
Flesh and blood shattered.
A luminous, seven-colored spiritual form emerged from the destruction.
Feng Qi reached out and caught his own severed head, then casually tossed it to one of the Scarlet Squad members behind him.
Turning back to Old Day City, he took one last look at the towering walls.
Then, his body ascended into the sky.
There was something he had to retrieve.
The Miracle Bracelet.
The only gift the Mist Lord had ever given him.
And also, their final farewell.
As Feng Qi's spiritual form soared above Old Day City, the immense burst of spiritual energy sent shockwaves rippling through the entire city.
All factions within Old Day City looked up.
In the sky, they saw a brilliant, radiant light, shimmering in all seven colors.