Chapter 65: The Final Battle (Part II)

Habs bore a cold, stony expression, his eyes, once like sapphires, now turning blood-red, as if a river of blood surged and roared within them.

He stared straight into the Demon Emperor’s eyes, a gesture that could be considered disrespectful. Yet, the Demon Emperor showed no anger, not even a hint of offense in his abyssal pupils.

Finally, Habs lowered his gaze, bowing his head.

Suddenly, a faint golden hue crept into the surrounding space, similar to the stars in the sky, with specks of light appearing dim and weak. This was because all domains were suppressed within the range of the Dark Sun, even though the Demon Emperor had always restrained his pressure. The color, reminiscent of a sunset, gradually spread, strangely tainting the stars with a hazy glow.

The domain “Duskland”!

Habs slowly raised his right hand, his blood power nearly reaching its peak in an instant. Dark flames engulfed his entire arm, inch by inch, forming his famous weapon, the “Spear of Eternity.”

Habs looked up at Lin Xitang, “Where is your ‘Smoke and Ashes’?” They had fought more than once, and both were familiar with each other’s weapons.

However, in Lin Xitang’s palm was not the heavy long-barreled revolver, but a spear. He took a step back, the spear pointing diagonally towards the sky, assuming a starting stance.

Seeing this, Habs paused slightly, “Passing the Torch? Is this the Song Clan’s spear technique?”

Lin Xitang replied, “All martial paths lead to the same end. I just feel that this move is most suitable for this moment.”

Habs did not ask further. His eyes had already lost all emotion, becoming almost deathly silent, except for the fierce surging of blood, like a dragon about to break free from its chains. This was a sign that his blood power had fully reached its peak.

In a moment, the blood energy gathered like a tide, roaring and coalescing into a bloody storm in the void.

Lin Xitang struck first, and the space seemed to freeze for an instant, then split like a prism, dividing him and the spear into over a dozen figures, overwhelming Habs.

Habs did not dodge or evade, striking out with his spear.

Yet, this time, half of the “Hall of Phantoms” were not illusions. In an instant, Habs was hit five or six times, the deepest and most dangerous wound cutting through his chest, revealing a faint glimpse of blood amber.

This one of the hardest substances in the world, the blood amber, bore a single mark.

Habs’ face remained unchanged, his spear thrusting forward steadily, as if nothing could stop it.

The faint golden spear light, like the light of dusk, slid through the blood storm, silencing all as it passed through Lin Xitang’s body.

“The Sleep of the War God!” The final move of the Fire Crown, renowned throughout the Evernight World. It had been twenty years since Habs used this move to slay a peer-level Duke of Evernight, and he had not used it since.

To fight with all one’s might and deliver the strongest blow as a send-off, this was the highest respect a fighter of Evernight could show.

The faint golden light of “Duskland” instantly enveloped every star, and the domain of “Stellar Flow” began to collapse. The dark dome above, with stars falling like snowflakes, crumbled.

The starlight, fragmented and almost too faint to see, could still be caught at the corner of the eye. But with a turn of the head, it vanished, making one wonder if it had ever existed.

Vaguely, as if someone whispered in his ear, “Lin Xitang, you don’t remember, do you?” The Demon Emperor’s distant sigh came as if from a far-off place, “This is our second meeting. Back then, I should not have let you leave alive, which led to today’s passive situation for all of Evernight.”

The dark sun shrouding the void suddenly faded, and light returned to the world. Simultaneously, the stars shone brightly, revealing the endless fall of stars covering hair, clothes, spear tips, and wounds.

The Demon Emperor raised his head, the stars falling onto his perfect face, “Habs, I will wait for you on the Holy Mountain.” Darkness enveloped him once more, hiding his form and features, and he disappeared from the void.

Lin Xitang held his spear, a smile on his face, his eyes slowly closing.

A point of light appeared at the tip of his spear, flying out into the sky, disappearing into the depths of the void.

The Song Clan’s “Torch and Flame” spear technique, in Lin Xitang’s hands, reached its highest level. But as the torch fades, this faint hope, who knew where it would fall?

Meanwhile, the battle on the floating land transformed in a near-collapse manner.

First, the main mobile fleet in outer space suddenly vanished, and control of the outer space returned to the Empire. Then, the near-space combat forces in several key battlefields withdrew, even including some Dukes who were supposed to command the battle.

The pressure on the Imperial army, which had been fighting for a long time, eased somewhat. At least, the black tide before them now had a boundary, no longer endless.

Soon after, various armies began to receive new strategic intelligence. Although a single plan couldn’t immediately turn the tide, to the generals and commanders, it was like seeing the light through the clouds, charting a new path in the stalemate.

White City was the most peaceful place on the continent at that moment. After Tige retreated, no troops from Evernight appeared outside the city.

Upon returning to the airfield, Tige learned more of the latest developments, casting a shadow over his heart. He couldn’t determine what had happened, but the absence of a strong figure after the sword wielder and the main fleet being redeployed for an unknown mission gave him a foreboding feeling.

After waiting for another hour, when he discovered that the Evernight fleet was leaving the floating land, he ordered all nearby floating vessels to take off, loading everything they could carry, and left the floating land immediately. The fate of the other Evernight forces on the floating land was no longer his concern.

As long as White City stood, the other Evernight forces on the floating land could not reach the floating vessel base. After the Evernight fleet left, the Empire would soon gain full air superiority, making any return extremely difficult. Perhaps, seeing this, Tige decided to leave decisively. Whatever punishment awaited him upon his return was a matter for later.

Within half a day, the ground battle on the floating land had turned. Initially, the Empire and the Evernight forces were at a stalemate, but suddenly, the latter shifted to a defensive posture.

While the Imperial army was using the opportunity to rest and recuperate, they could not help but feel puzzled. Even if General Lin’s strategy was unparalleled, this change was too abrupt. Only when a couple of impetuous generals charged into the Evernight camp did they discover that the dark races were beginning to withdraw!

However, the journey home was not easy.

The high-ranking fighters of Evernight, whether they understood something or remained completely ignorant, remained silent. They focused on gathering their troops and trying to escape the pursuit of the Imperial army. The direction of their withdrawal was not towards the Evernight fortresses on the floating land, but to the various floating vessel landing points.

It was as if the war had returned to its starting point, and the Evernight side was about to abandon the floating land.

After losing the largest airfield near White City, the other floating vessel landing points did not have the capacity to handle the load, with various issues such as ship types, terrain, and roads. In many places, clans and tribes of different races even started to fight over the limited space on the transport ships.

But the true journey of death was in the void. The transport ships, leaving the floating land, faced the encirclement and slaughter by Imperial warships. The Evernight side had no sufficient warships to escort them, let alone support from outer space. Thus, the retreat turned into a massacre, with each warrior of the Imperial Guard Fleet unleashing their pent-up frustration.

The entire sky of the floating land was burning, with warships crashing down in flames. Each transport ship that crashed meant the death of hundreds of dark warriors.

The big shots of Evernight had abandoned the floating land, and it was unclear how many of these remaining forces would make it back home alive.

Although only a few hundred remnants remained in White City, Qian Ye, a Duke, made it an unbreachable fortress. Even as the entire floating land burned, no Evernight forces dared to approach.

White City enjoyed its first half-day of extreme peace. Many people were still not used to the tranquility, jumping at the slightest disturbance. More people sat, half-awake and half-asleep, unable to truly sleep. To them, life felt like an illusion, and death was the reality.

In White City, the corpses seemed to outnumber the ruins. Under many piles of rubble, multiple layers of bodies, human and dark race alike, were found, intermingled. Most of the survivors were severely injured, quietly enjoying the peace, awaiting the next attack. Only a few sensed the changes in Qian Ye.

Qian Ye sat beside Zhao Jundu, deep in thought or perhaps with a blank mind.

Song Zining did not persuade him, instead, he fell asleep, setting aside everything. His breath rose and fell, and it was unclear what he experienced in his dreams.

Bai AoTu sat opposite Qian Ye, motionless like a statue, her eyes bandaged, the cloth showing traces of blood.

The expected strong fighters from Evernight never arrived. This battle, perhaps, was won, but at this point, no one had the energy to rejoice.

In the center of White City, it was even quieter. This was where Zhao Jundu slept, his breathing and heartbeat still present, maintaining his original posture, sitting against the wall, basking in the rare sunlight, though it was already dusk and the light had almost disappeared.

None of them—Qian Ye, Bai AoTu, or Song Zining—dared to disturb Zhao Jundu. Even though the battle was over, they felt no joy.

They could sense that Zhao Jundu’s breathing was slowing, as was his heartbeat. This process was so gradual that it created the illusion that the end would never come.

In truth, everyone knew deep down that Zhao Jundu had already passed, the moment he unleashed his last shot with the Heart of Burial. All signs of life now were illusions, a phenomenon seen in those with extremely high original force rank and cultivation, where residual original force maintains life, hoping for a miracle.

But if miracles were so easy, they wouldn’t be called miracles.

In the history of the Empire, there were numerous strong fighters with earth-shaking cultivation, who continued to talk, visit friends, and engage in discussions even after life-and-death battles, only passing away days later. But regardless of their cultivation, none could escape their inevitable fate.

Though Zhao Jundu had extraordinary talent, he had not yet reached the level of unmatched predecessors or successors, so how could he achieve such a miracle?

Occasionally, Qian Ye’s blood core would pulse slightly faster. He hesitated, wanting to give Zhao Jundu the first embrace.