Myth Beyond Heaven - Chapter 3043: Last Standing (1)

Chapter 3043: Last Standing (1)

Nian Shi’s temporal manipulation, which had been struggling against Yin’s will, now found purchase. The wave of Uncreation, now a mindless force without guidance, was suddenly and easily caught in the currents of bent time.

Nian Shi’s hands swept forward in a final, decisive gesture.

The vast, terrifying wave of Uncreation energy was abruptly yanked from its path toward Nian Shi. Like a river diverted by a sudden earthquake, it was violently redirected, its entirety now rushing with unstoppable, mindless force toward the one thing in the vicinity that represented the absolute pinnacle of Creation’s power: the Phoenix barrier protecting Yun Lintian.

Nian Shi stood calmly, his silver eyes gleaming with cold triumph. He had not only defended himself but had successfully turned his enemy’s greatest strength against his enemy’s goal. He had used Yin’s own power to test the barrier’s limits, all while keeping his hands clean.

The mindless tide of Uncreation, a force capable of unmaking galaxies, slammed into the raging storm of Phoenix fire.

The clash was silent, a contest between absolute ending and a sacrifice that defied ending.

For a long, straining moment, the barrier held. Nantian Fengyu’s sacrifice proved its unimaginable worth, its flames burning with a defiance that seemed to say no to the very concept of ending.

But the force it faced was primordial. It was the antithesis of its existence. The Uncreation wave, though mindless, was immense, a tsunami of nothingness against a lighthouse of soul-fire.

Crackle—

A deep, shuddering groan echoed not through the air, but through the souls of those protected behind the barrier.

The fiery wall, once a constant, brilliant inferno, began to flicker. Violent tremors ran through its length, like a dam cracking under impossible pressure. Thin, spider-web cracks of void-blackness began to appear on its surface, spreading slowly but inexorably.

The barrier was crumbling. It was buying time, but its time was finite.

Behind the shuddering wall of flame, the fallen defenders struggled.

Long Xi pushed herself up on trembling arms, her regal robes stained with dust and her own silver blood. Every movement sent jolts of agony through her shattered body. Her light was dim, but her will was not.

Beside her, Long Qingxuan coughed, wiping azure blood from her lips. Her connection to the Azure Dragon was fractured, her power a faint echo. Long Niu grunted as she forced her heavy body to a kneeling position, her draconic aura subdued but stubborn.

A short distance away, Yue Zhihe, the stoic Moon Fairy, helped the petite Yue Chuntao, the Moon Princess, to her feet. Yue Chuntao’s delicate features were pale, her lunar grace marred by injury and grime. Mumu hopped unsteadily, her usually bright red eyes dull with pain and fear, her fur matted.

They all stared, their hearts in their throats, at the fiery barrier that was their only protection. They felt its tremors as if they were their own.

It was Long Niu who sensed it first. Her senses, attuned to the essence of life, trembled. She frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion and dawning horror.

“This barrier…” she murmured, her voice rough. “This aura… it’s so familiar. It’s… it’s pure Divine Phoenix…”

Her eyes, wide with sudden panic, scanned their ragged group. She looked past Long Xi, past Long Qingxuan, past everyone. “Sister Fengyu? Where is Sister Fengyu?!”

Silence.

The question hung in the air, and the horrific answer settled upon them with the weight of a mountain. Nantian Fengyu was nowhere to be seen. The glorious Phoenix that had challenged a Primordial God was gone. And in its place was this barrier, burning with her unique, beloved essence.

The realization struck them like a physical blow. She had sacrificed herself. Not just her life, but her very soul, her future, her everything, to create this fleeting protection.

A profound, gut-wrenching grief filled the space between them, sharper than any pain from their wounds.

Long Xi closed her eyes for a brief moment, swallowing the lump in her throat. When she opened them, the grief was still there, but it had been forged into something harder: resolve. She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, her movement slow and deliberate.

She turned to look at each of them—her daughters, her comrades, the allies who had fought and bled alongside them. Her expression was solemn, etched with the gravity of their final moments.

“The barrier won’t last long,” she stated, her voice quiet but clear, cutting through their despair. “When it falls, they will come for him.”

She didn’t need to look at Yun Lintian; they all felt his serene presence behind them, the focal point of it all. “What we have to do next is clear. We must protect him. At all costs.”

Her gaze swept over them, a queen preparing her soldiers for a final, hopeless charge. “Are you ready?”

There was no immediate answer. No cheers, no bold declarations. They looked at each other—broken, battered, their power spent. They knew what it meant. Their time had truly come. There would be no miracle, no last-minute rescue. There was only the final stand.

But in that silence, their response was given. Not a single one looked away. Not a single one took a step back. Their eyes, filled with pain and loss, met Long Xi’s with a determined, unspoken vow. They would stand. They would die. But they would not yield.

Long Xi’s heart ached. Her gaze finally settled on her two daughters, Long Qingxuan and Long Niu. A mother’s instinct, primal and fierce, surged within her.

“Qingxuan, Niu’er,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You… you should stay at the back. Conserve your strength. Let us…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Let us die first.

Long Qingxuan looked at her mother. There was no fear in her azure eyes, only a deep, sorrowful understanding. She asked softly, her voice barely a whisper yet heard by all, “Mother, do you truly think… it’s possible for any of us to avoid this fate?”

Long Xi fell silent immediately. The question was a needle to the heart. She knew the answer.

There was no “back” in this battle. There was only a front line that would be erased in seconds. There was no avoiding the primordials’ wrath…