"Yes—let it be said that I, Bai Zhiyue, misjudged you all! I will never let this go!" Bai Zhiyue snarled. Her chin was wrenched upward, her body pierced by the God-Slaying Sword, leaving her utterly powerless.
"Hmph. With death at your doorstep, you'd do well to curb such empty bravado," Fei Ruo'er sneered, delighting in the sight of the once-exalted divine princess now trampled beneath her feet.
With that, she seized Bai Zhiyue's cascading hair and, from her spatial ring, produced a pale blue jade flask. She pried Bai Zhiyue's mouth open and poured every last drop of its contents down her throat.
Then, as if discarding filth, she flung her aside. The jade bottle followed, shattering crisply against the floor.
The thought of soon becoming the most beautiful woman in all the Heavens curled Fei Ruo'er's lips into a bloodthirsty smile. Wherever Bai Zhiyue stood, she had always been second. But once that "first" was erased, she alone would reign supreme. Countless men would fall at her feet.
Collapsed on the ground, Bai Zhiyue felt a searing inferno erupt across her face the instant the liquid took effect.
"Ah—!" Unable to endure the pain any longer, she cried out.
"Heh. My dear sister, how does the poison you refined yourself feel?" Fei Ruo'er folded her arms, gazing coldly at the woman writhing on the floor. "I imagine it's exquisite. From this day forth, I, Fei Ruo'er, shall be the unrivaled beauty of the Heavens. All glory will belong to me alone. As for you—go die! Hahaha!"
She laughed wildly, her eyes brimming with triumph, devoid of even a trace of pity.
As the drug's fiercest effects faded, the burning pain lessened slightly, though it never truly left. Bai Zhiyue lifted her head and looked at the woman with whom she had shared millennia of sisterhood—now radiant with smug delight.
That disfiguring poison had indeed been crafted by her own hands. She had never allowed Fei Ruo'er near it, fearing the slightest mishap might harm her. And yet—how had it come into her possession?
Her face was no longer the most beautiful beneath heaven and earth. She needed no mirror to know how hideous it had become, pitted and ruined beyond recognition.
"Ruo'er, let's go," An Yang Motian said at last. "She's already been struck by my God-Slaying Sword. Before long, her soul will vanish from the Three Realms and Six Paths alike." Perhaps out of lingering attachment—or perhaps because her beauty was already destroyed—he spared her further torment.
He took Fei Ruo'er's hand and turned to leave.
"Men! Seal this place. Anyone who resists—kill without mercy!" His icy command echoed through Zhiyue Hall.
In moments, their forces poured in, surrounding the hall so tightly that not even air could escape.
"Hah! Even in death, I will drag you two wretches down with me!"
The voice was weak—yet chillingly resolute.
An Yang Motian and Fei Ruo'er froze, dread surging within them. Only then did they remember: five hundred years ago, while saving him, Bai Zhiyue had been wounded by the demon clan, demonic energy invading her body.
To suppress it, the Celestial Emperor had bestowed upon her a supreme Divine Emperor Artifact. She had worn it ever since—an artifact meant to seal the demonic power within her.
Now, the longing that once lingered on her ruined face was gone, replaced by glacial frost and boundless hatred.
She drew forth the artifact suppressing the demonic energy and held it in her hand.
A crimson parasol—beautiful, sinister, and otherworldly.
A blood-hungry smile curved her lips.
"Madwoman! What are you trying to do?!" An Yang Motian spun around, terror flooding his eyes as he stared at the bride in flaming red.
Black mist began to seep from her body. Slowly, it lifted her slender form into the air.
Demonic possession.
The thought struck him like a thunderbolt.
Her jet-black hair rose without wind, cascading behind her as she hovered—like a fiend clawing its way out of the abyss. The black fog thickened, devouring the surroundings as the spiritual energy of heaven and earth rushed madly into Bai Zhiyue's body.
The mist wove itself into a vast, dark cocoon, pulsing violently—as though it might explode in the very next instant.
"Quick—leave this place!" Sensing catastrophe, An Yang Motian bolted for the exit.
Yet the moment he reached the door, a surge of overwhelming black energy hurled him violently back.