Chapter 968 - 360: The Deity That Walked Out of the Moonlight!!!

But at this moment, the black-robed man could no longer speak.

He was barely hanging onto his last breath.

And just as this scene had only just unfolded.

The eight Divine Bone Martial Saints moved.

They charged in, wrapped in viscous black liquid thick enough to devour light.

Fang Qingyu’s expression was as calm as a bottomless pool; his right fist, sheathed in Star Point Tribulation Crystal, slowly rose, fingers curling in.

"Heavenly Patrol... Shattering Stars!"

He threw a punch; starlight detonated.

The blood-colored Space became a frozen Hell suddenly hurled into a blazing sun.

The surging black liquid instantly lost all vitality, turning into filthy raindrops that pattered down.

The eight Demon God-like figures were violently blasted away by the overwhelming force.

Yan Lin’s figure suddenly surfaced ten meters away, eyes beneath the silver mask filled with a complexity beyond words.

"That punch... you really have left me far behind."

She muttered under her breath, her tone carrying a hint of self-mockery.

Fang Qingyu looked at her. "Where is he?"

Yan Lin rolled her eyes irritably. "Relax! I handed him over to your four good brothers in one piece! What, afraid I’d keep him for myself?"

Fang Qingyu gave a soft cough. "Just asking in passing."

From the very beginning.

Fang Qingyu’s goal had never been just to wipe out the Celestial Punishment Association.

There was also Chen Wudi himself.

The "Fang Qingyu" who kicked open the door was his real body.

But the figure that stepped into this blood-colored Space and was frozen by the blood light—

Had already been covered and replaced by Yan Lin with an Illusion Realm.

Mandala.

Behind the name Yan Lin—

Was a terrifying Talent capable of twisting visual perception and crafting illusions indistinguishable from reality.

The thing covering her face had never been a physical mask; it was an Illusion Realm projection she could swap at will, enough to fool experts at the Peak of Third Tier.

It was precisely this ability.

That made her the top Dark asset in the Federation’s intelligence sequence, codename: Mandala.

Yan Lin came to the blood-colored Space in Fang Qingyu’s stead.

Her sole mission was to switch out the real Chen Wudi.

The withered figure still nailed to the Cross in the surveillance feed—

Was nothing but an illusion she was painstakingly maintaining.

The real Chen Wudi had already been secretly moved at this moment.

Handed over to Mouse, Old Qin, and the other three.

Fang Qingyu no longer spared a glance for the black-robed corpse at the bottom of the pit whose skull he had crushed with a single stomp.

Chen Yuanshan’s biological grandson.

Chen Wudi’s son.

The last commander of the Desolate Bone Corps.

He turned, walked shoulder to shoulder with Yan Lin, heading toward the outline of that giant Cross deep within the blood-colored Space.

The viscous blood-colored miasma rolled and retreated around their feet as if it possessed life.

Soon.

The hunched, busy figure beneath the Cross grew distinct.

Chen Yuanshan’s withered fingers were trembling as he stroked the Cross’s rough, icy surface over and over, muttering under his breath, his voice hoarse and urgent, laced with a near-manic bewilderment: "Why... why can I not sense it? The blood trigger is clearly sufficient... why does the altar not respond?!"

Fang Qingyu stopped ten meters from him; his calm voice cut through the blood hue. "Old Commander, why don’t you... take a look at your precious son?"

The voice exploded beside Chen Yuanshan’s ears.

He snapped his head up, his murky old eyes suddenly bursting with terrifying brilliance.

That hunched frame unleashed Speed completely at odds with his age.

He vanished from the ground like a specter; the next second he was floating in midair.

Level with Chen Wudi’s head on the Cross.

He extended that age-spotted hand, trembling slightly, slowly reaching to caress his son’s gaunt cheek.

His fingertips passed cleanly through that layer of withered flesh.

They touched nothing solid.

Only a ripple of empty light and shadow spread from his fingertip.

Passed straight through.

Chen Yuanshan froze in midair.

That outstretched hand hung there, suspended within the light and shadow.

As if all supporting strength had been drained away in an instant.

It fell limply.

He slowly drifted back down to the ground, back turned to Fang Qingyu and Yan Lin; his shoulders seemed to stoop further, as if he had aged several decades in the blink of an eye.

A desolate sigh echoed faintly through the deathly still blood-colored Space:

"Ahh... what a pity."

He slowly turned around; all the madness, confusion, and fury on his face had vanished without a trace.

Only a stillness as calm as a dried-up well remained.

Those clouded eyes looked at Fang Qingyu and Yan Lin with a quiet steadiness.

"It seems..." Chen Yuanshan’s voice was unnaturally even, betraying not the slightest frustration. "I still underestimated Captain Fang. And I never expected..." His gaze shifted to Yan Lin. "That Captain Fang would have such a gifted extraordinary hidden at his side."

Yet when Fang Qingyu looked at Chen Yuanshan’s overly calm demeanor—

He felt not the slightest relief.

On the contrary, his brow furrowed deeply.

Something was off.

Chen Wudi was the core of Chen Yuanshan’s plan.

The ultimate vessel he had poured decades of effort into, sacrificing everything to enact his "god-making" plan, his greatest trump card and reliance against Heaven.

With this card pulled out from under him, how could he be this calm?

A strong sense of unease rose steadily in Fang Qingyu’s chest.

Chen Yuanshan seemed to see straight through the doubts churning in Fang Qingyu’s heart; that deeply wrinkled old face slowly stretched into a curve verging on the grotesque.

He stopped looking at Fang Qingyu and instead, unhurriedly, from the lining of his scarlet robe—

Carefully took out something.

It was a bead the size of a pigeon egg, perfectly round, emanating a strange dark-red glow.

Within the bead, viscous blood seemed to be slowly flowing and rotating.

Chen Yuanshan cradled this Blood Pearl in his palm, admiring it like a flawless work of art.

His eyes were filled with a sickly obsession and satiation.

He raised his head, meeting the shocked, wary gazes of Fang Qingyu and Yan Lin.

The curve at the corner of his mouth split wider, revealing rows of pale, bared teeth.