Chapter 1312: Change of Mind

Xiao Ran stared at the bare wall, her mind gradually going blank.

This “door” she had been pounding on… was it just a useless decoration?

Then why had those women been staring at it earlier?

Did that mean Qinglong wasn’t even in this room? Had he already left?

Countless questions swirled in Xiao Ran’s mind, but there was no one to answer them now.

Trapped deep in the room by her own grotesque, swollen flesh, she couldn’t move—yet she barely spared a thought for her predicament. Her mind was entirely fixated on Qinglong’s whereabouts.

After just a few seconds of contemplation, an inexplicable sense of loss began to spread through her heart. It felt like she had been abandoned—or perhaps like an unrequited love had finally failed.

Just why had she ended up like this, anyway?

Wasn’t it all for Qinglong?

Because of a single sentence from him, she had transformed into this monstrous form. Because of another, she had crossed through bizarre spaces just to see him again.

But this reunion was like something out of a TV drama—always obstructed by countless obstacles.

Xiao Ran’s desolation reached its peak, yet she realized there was no turning back now.

If she couldn’t rely on Qinglong, her only fate was death.

In this desperate state, her sense of loss slowly morphed into an unshakable obsession.

Was it really so hard just to see him once?

If Qinglong could just see her, he would understand how much effort she had put into helping him.

Then she would earn his complete trust and become the second most powerful figure in the entire “Land of Finality.”

Murmuring Qinglong’s name, Xiao Ran’s grotesquely enlarged hand pressed down harder on the “ants” trapped in the room.

The “ants” had no idea what they were facing. They could sense the “eyeball” nearby, but an inexplicable, massive force stood between them.

“Qinglong… don’t worry…” Xiao Ran chuckled darkly. “I’ll find a way… Wait for me… I’ll help you… You’ll need me.”

But despite her words, she couldn’t move as swiftly as before. Trapped in her own flesh, she was sinking deeper and deeper.

Two of the “ants,” relying on their formidable physical strength, managed to slip through her fingers. They stopped at the doorway, reaching out to touch the indistinct obstruction.

It was warm and pulsating, like a massive mass of flesh. Sensing each other’s presence, they tapped out coded signals, communicating about the bizarre situation before them.

They suspected this grotesque entity might be a rare “Celestial-level” threat—something they couldn’t defeat alone. They needed to rally more “ants.”

—

Qinglong, Qiao Jiajin, and Zhang Shan stood in the center of the foremost room in the “locomotive.”

The once-pristine white room was now drenched in blood, the walls and floor stained crimson.

Even the apple tree at the room’s center dripped blood from every leaf. The space was eerily silent, save for the rhythmic *drip-drip* of falling blood.

The sheer volume of blood loss could have killed dozens, yet the three men appeared unharmed—only pale and visibly exhausted.

Zhang Shan glanced at Qiao Jiajin, realizing there was some merit to his habit of stripping before a fight. Zhang Shan’s own tattered clothes clung to him, soaked in blood, sticky and heavy—utterly impractical for combat.

But shedding them mid-battle now would just be awkward.

Qinglong, meanwhile, found the situation increasingly bizarre. Normally, facing these two shouldn’t have inflicted such severe damage. Yet strange memories kept flashing through his mind, and at times, his thoughts grew muddled.

These two states were like illusory blades, piercing his consciousness from opposite directions.

And before him stood two very real blades.

The illusory ones attacked his mind; the real ones eroded his body.

Every direction seemed laden with lethal traps. A single misstep could spell doom.

Zhang Shan flicked blood from his skin. “No wonder you’re never afraid to die—you’re also ‘Heavenly Might.'”

“So what now?” Qinglong sneered. “Are the three of us—immortal—supposed to fight here until the universe ends?”

“Doesn’t have to take that long, Greenie.” Qiao Jiajin shook his head. “If you’re tired, you can just surrender. I’m cool with that.”

“Damn right,” Zhang Shan laughed. “I doubt we’ll last that long anyway. At this rate, the room’ll flood with blood, and then it’s just a contest of who can hold their breath longest.”

“Fair point,” Qiao Jiajin nodded. “So it’s a drowning match. Greenie, how’s your swimming?”

“Passable,” Qinglong replied. “But I doubt it’ll come to that. I haven’t even used any ‘divine arts’ yet. This prolonged fight was just to test my limits.”

“What a coincidence,” Qiao Jiajin grinned. “Liar taught me a two-word mantra I haven’t used yet. Perfect for countering you.”

Qinglong’s expression darkened. His gaze flicked toward the door.

Earlier, he had heard faint rustling outside, but after a single abrupt knock, all sound had vanished—even his “Spirit Hearing” detected nothing.

He could only hope no fool dared touch that door. Otherwise, things would get messy.

So who had knocked?

That one abrupt tap had sent his mind into chaos, as if even his most basic “divine arts” were faltering.

“Seems some vengeful ghost has latched onto me…” Qinglong’s eyes turned icy. “Last chance—are you two *really* not going to kill Tianlong now?”

As he spoke, the ceiling began darkening—a swirling mass of ominous black clouds forming above them.

“Even ‘Heavenly Might’ won’t withstand what comes next.” Qinglong raised his hand slowly. “Choose now, and we’ll let bygones be bygones.”

Zhang Shan and Qiao Jiajin looked up at the thunderous, lightning-streaked ceiling.

Could flesh and blood truly oppose such a thing?

And even if they tried to dodge—where would they go?

“Tattoo Guy… what’s the call?” Zhang Shan asked, eyes fixed on the storm above.

“Big Guy, if either of us gets hit, the other’s screwed too,” Qiao Jiajin muttered. “Meaning your ‘Heavenly Might’ could fail by proxy.”

“Shit. So what’s the plan?”

“Big Guy, let’s go kill Tianlong.”

“Huh?”

“What else?” Qiao Jiajin said seriously. “You wanna just stand here and get fried? I can’t tank that. Come on—let’s kill Tianlong.”