Chapter 641: The Blessing of the Masses? Suppressed with a Single Palm!
Killing someone is just a matter of their head hitting the ground, but Yao Qi most enjoys seeing the victim's expression of unbearable pain. Therefore, even when dealing with an ordinary person in his eyes, Yao Qi used the signature technique of the Curse of Black Light, wanting Shen Anyu to die in unbearable pain and misery. Looking at the joyful expression on Shen Anyu's handsome face, surrounded by two stunning beauties, Yao Qi chuckled coldly. The Curse of Black Light in his hand silently floated towards Shen Anyu, seeping into Shen Anyu's body.
'In less than five minutes, this Curse of Black Light will flood into his internal organs and sweep through his entire body,' Yao Qi mused, a cruel and twisted satisfaction blooming in his chest. A frigid wisp of necrotic energy, invisible to the naked eye, had already breached the young man's defenses. It was a parasitic shadow that ignored flesh and bone, burrowing directly toward the meridians and organs, seeking the very wellspring of life to corrupt and extinguish. 'By then, apart from me, Yao Qi, even immortals descending to earth will find it hard to save him!'
His face was a mask of smug certainty, his lips curled into a sinister grin. He could already picture it: the handsome face contorting in agony, the eyes widening in confusion and then terror as an invisible fire consumed him from within. The initial chill would give way to a searing torment, as if every nerve ending was being systematically shredded by razors dipped in acid. His veins would darken, his skin would grow clammy, and a scream of pure, unadulterated agony would be torn from his throat. Yao Qi looked forward to that sound, that beautiful display of suffering.
After doing all this, Yao Qi crossed his legs, a predator settling in to watch his prey's final struggles. He leaned back in his theater seat, pretending to watch the movie flickering on the giant screen, while he waited for the Curse of Black Light to take effect.
The true value of the Curse of Black Light was its insidious nature. Its influence was subtle, almost undetectable. If it were noticed at the very beginning, a powerful cultivator might be able to resist it, to erect a spiritual barrier to keep it at bay. But detecting it was the true challenge. Below the Celestial Master realm, it was a ghost, a phantom killer that announced its presence only when it was already too late. Once the curse saturated the internal organs and ravaged the entire body, any cultivator below the Celestial Master realm would undoubtedly die. Even a full-fledged Celestial Master would find the affliction extremely tricky to purge.
One minute passed. Two minutes. Three minutes. Time dripped by, second by agonizing second for the impatient sorcerer.
Yet, Shen Anyu still had that infuriatingly joyful expression on his face. He leaned closer to Liu Ruyan, whispering something that made her delicate face flush a vibrant crimson, her beauty so radiant it seemed to glow in the dim light of the cinema. Beside him, Zhong Lingyin remained captivated by the film, her eyes wide and fixed on the big screen, utterly oblivious to the dark spell weaving its way through her companion.
'This kid really knows how to have fun,' Yao Qi sneered internally, his gaze dripping with contempt. 'Probably just some useless rich second generation, born with a silver spoon and a pretty face. But what does it matter? No matter what kind of generation he is, he will die. Only power, true, tangible power, is eternal. What is wealth? What is status? They are fleeting illusions, dust in the wind before a true master of the arcane arts.'
His thoughts grew darker, more self-aggrandizing. 'Two more minutes… now only one minute left!'
The sneer on Yao Qi's face deepened. The happier Shen Anyu smiled now, the more devastating his agony would be later. The pain that followed the eruption of the Curse of Black Light was a torment beyond mortal comprehension. It was ten, no, a hundred times more excruciating than being flayed alive or consumed by flames.
Even a man of steel, a warrior forged in the fires of a hundred battles, would be reduced to a whimpering mess, kneeling before him to beg for the sweet release of death.
And this was a mere pampered pretty boy? He would break in seconds.
Thirty seconds. Twenty. Ten. The moment was closer, ever closer.
The smile on Yao Qi's face began to bloom, a venomous flower of anticipation.
Five minutes arrived!
Yao Qi sat up straighter, his legs still crossed, his chin raised slightly in a gesture of absolute dominance. He watched Shen Anyu's face with a playful, predatory hunger, expecting to see it twist into a mask of pain in the next second. He was waiting for the miserable, soul-tearing howl that was sure to follow.
One second passed. The film's soundtrack swelled.
Ten seconds passed. Liu Ruyan playfully nudged Shen Anyu.
One minute passed. Nothing.
The triumphant smile on Yao Qi's face gradually solidified, freezing on his lips like ice.
What was happening?
Why was there no reaction? Not even a twitch? Not a single flicker of discomfort?
Why hadn't the Curse of Black Light erupted? Where was his powerful, infallible curse?
Yao Qi was stunned. He was a Half-Step Celestial Master. His signature technique, the dreaded Curse of Black Light, had claimed the lives of Martial Dao Grandmasters and Magic Grandmasters alike. It had carved his fierce and bloody reputation into the bedrock of the extraordinary world.
But now, deployed against what he thought was an ordinary person, it had done absolutely nothing?
How was this possible?
'Could this… this pretty boy be a deeply hidden expert? A Celestial Master?' The thought was so absurd it was almost laughable. Yao Qi sneered. Impossible. Shen Anyu looked like he was only in his early twenties. How could he possibly be a Celestial Master?
'Could it be that the kid has a special physique? One that's immune to curses?'
Yao Qi muttered in his heart. He refused to doubt his own abilities. The possibility that he had failed to cast the curse, or made a mistake in its execution, was zero. A Half-Step Celestial Master who had navigated the treacherous world of sorcery for decades would rather go home and sell sweet potatoes than admit to such an amateurish blunder.
But he believed even less that Shen Anyu was an expert at or above the Celestial Master realm.
Even the youngest Celestial Master expert in all of Yanxia's extraordinary world, the one known as the Female Sword Immortal, Fairy Pei—Pei Changli—had only reached that vaunted level when she was nearly thirty. Her achievement had shocked the nation and the world.
A young master barely out of his teens was a Celestial Master? It was a joke.
Yao Qi mentally ruled out every other possibility. The only logical conclusion was a special physique. One immune to curses, or perhaps some other rare, heaven-defying constitution.
Immediately, Yao Qi's eyes lit up with ravenous greed. A special physique like that was incredibly useful. He could take the boy as a disciple and pass on his mantle… or he could be rendered down and used as a prime sorcerous material, a component far more valuable than the boys and girls born in extremely Yin years and months that he usually sought.
Of course, the thought of accepting Shen Anyu as a disciple was fleeting. Yao Qi had no interest in sharing his power. The boy's body, however, was a treasure trove.
'If this kid is really immune to curses, then his value is immense. If I refine him into that… that artifact… then I'll no longer have to fear that little bitch An Zhiyue!'
A fire ignited in Yao Qi's heart. He cast the Curse of Black Light again, a thicker, more potent strand of dark energy silently seeping from his fingertips and gliding through the air toward Shen Anyu.
To be absolutely certain, he cast it several more times, layering the curses one on top of the other, confident that even a body of solid steel would corrode under such an assault.
One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Five minutes.
As time passed, Shen Anyu remained utterly unaffected. He was completely at ease, his handsome face as serene as polished jade. He continued to playfully tease Liu Ruyan while chatting casually with Zhong Lingyin, the picture of a carefree young noble.
Yao Qi's face was now a mask of ecstatic, unholy glee. He was practically vibrating with excitement.
'Ninety-nine percent certain. It's a special physique immune to curses. This is truly a case of extreme sorrow turning into joy! If I use this kid to refine a Source of Curse, I can infect every single one of the tens of thousands of people in Xihe Shopping Mall! By the time that little bitch An Zhiyue realizes what's happened, it will be too late. She won't dare to attack me then! Who would dare to touch me?'
The Curse of Black Light consumed a significant amount of his own power, so he couldn't cast it indefinitely. But with a body that was immune, he could create a self-sustaining Source of Curse—a malevolent beacon that could mass-infect thousands, a plague engine of unimaginable power.
'Kid, being able to help me escape this predicament is the greatest blessing of your short life,' Yao Qi thought, his heart swelling with pride. He even found Shen Anyu's handsome face quite pleasing to the eye now, a perfect vessel for his grand design. 'Don't worry, I will help you… comfort… these two stunning beauties after you're gone.'
Originally, Yao Qi had been desperate. An Zhiyue had led the Special Department's experts to surround him here, in Xihe Shopping Mall. She hadn't sent anyone to negotiate, making it clear she wanted him dead, not captured. An Zhiyue was worried about the hostages, but Yao Qi had his own concerns. He knew that if he started a massacre, she would storm in without hesitation and kill him on the spot. He might take a few hundred ordinary people with him, but that was all.
Yao Qi cherished his life far too much. A few hundred mortals were not worthy of being buried alongside a master like him.
But now? By refining this young master into the Source of Curse and silently infecting every soul in the mall, he could turn the tables completely. By the time An Zhiyue knew, it would be too late.
With tens of thousands of hostages, would she dare touch a single hair on his head?
Just as Yao Qi was preparing to act again, to seize Shen Anyu and begin the gruesome refinement process, a large hand suddenly pressed down on his shoulder.
Yao Qi's face changed drastically. His blood ran cold. He was a Half-Step Celestial Master! Who could possibly place a hand on his shoulder so silently? Could it be An Zhiyue herself? Had she snuck in?
But looking along the large hand, he saw Shen Anyu looking at him with a smile, his lips moving slightly, transmitting the sound directly into his mind:
"I didn't have time to pay attention to you, but you attacked me again and again. Are you happy?"
Yao Qi's pupils contracted to pinpricks. Disbelief crashed over him like a tsunami.
This young master… had he noticed his actions from the very beginning?
This… this… how is this possible?
Yao Qi was so frightened that his hair stood on end, and his every instinct screamed at him to flash away, to teleport, to escape.
But the next moment.
A majestic, overwhelming mental power erupted from Shen Anyu's palm, sweeping through Yao Qi's entire body. It was a tidal wave of pure force that slammed into his internal organs, locked his limbs, and crushed his bones in an invisible vise.
In just an instant, Yao Qi's body became as stiff as a statue. He couldn't move a single muscle.
Dense beads of cold sweat, each the size of a soybean, oozed from his forehead, tracing panicked paths down his pale face.
He was drenched in an instant.
He stared at Shen Anyu in absolute, mind-shattering horror.
"Celestial… Celestial Master…"
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