Khổng Tú was terrifyingly strong.
Compared to Tô Mạc Tà, little Tathāgata, and skinny Hoàng, she might have been just a notch stronger.
Lạc Trần still remembered that day at Godfell Ridge, she was the only one among them who had stepped into the Awaken Realm.
He, skinny Hoàng, little Tathāgata, and Tô Mạc Tà had to rig the terrain and launch a synchronized ambush just to severely injure her.
Yet the Peacock of Chaos wielded techniques that defied logic. Thus, Khổng Tú escaped.
Now, that same opponent stood before him again. And Lạc Trần, crippled as he was, had to face her alone.
He was breathing less in than out...
Blood welled into his mouth. The air grew thinner with each breath.
His chest burned. His throat felt scorched raw.
Shivering, Lạc Trần reached forward, chambered a round into the "Void" rifle, and waited in silence.
His face turned a violent shade of red, temples bulging with veins.
Khổng Tú walked toward him, slow and measured.
Each step felt like a hammer on his soul - deliberate, unhurried - as if she meant to crush his will to dust.
She looked down at him like one would inspect an ant.
"You were never worthy of the celestial meridians."
"Same tired line. All I hear is a loser whining. Sure, I was betrayed, heart torn out, meridians shattered. But you really think you'll get to keep the celestial meridians?"
Lạc Trần growled, lifted his chin, and bellowed back.
Each line dragged blood from his lungs. He barely finished before the pain overwhelmed him.
Khổng Tú replied coolly:
"You still think you're a disciple of the cloudspike sect? Still dreaming you're the chosen of the heart of Saint? You're nothing. Know your place. Mind your tongue."
She lifted a bare foot and pressed it against his back. The pressure hit like a mountain. He couldn't breathe.
Her foot came down. His body snapped in half with a gut-twisting crunch of bone.
"You've disappointed me, Lạc Trần. First your heart ripped out. Now your spine's mush? Fine. Can't stand up? Then I'll break your back and leave you kneeling forever!"
With a choked roar, Lạc Trần pulled the trigger. The shot cracked through blood and air. A single round tore forward.
Not his first shot today.
Khổng Tú didn't even glance. Two fingers lifted, catching the bullet mid-flight. She opened her palm and examined the smooth, unmarked slug.
"This is your answer, Lạc Trần?"
"This? Even an adept could dodge it, let alone a Venerated."
…
The foot on his spine twisted, grinding harder. Lạc Trần hacked blood, cursing through clenched teeth.
Crazy bitch.
The thought barely sparked before Khổng Tú stepped back.
A column of white light burst from behind her, pouring over him like scalding purity. His flesh writhed, bones crunched, twisted, and snapped into place with sickening precision. Torn muscle stitched itself back together with a burning itch. Strength surged back, as if poured forcefully into a vessel not quite ready to hold it.
She folded her legs, rested her cheek on one hand, and lazily lifted the cross-shaped mirror with the other.
"That weapon's useless now. Even so... do you have it in you to stand and fight again?"
"You insane bitch! You're enjoying this, aren't you?!"
Lạc Trần almost screamed.
He truly didn't understand what she wanted.
If her goal was to kill him, he would've been meat by now. That first red beam - had it kissed his temple instead of blasting his knee - he'd be a memory in incense smoke by now.
If she craved pain, she had every tool to indulge, break him, stitch him, rip him open, and knit him together again, until every nerve was flayed and frayed.
But no. She mocked him, baited him to resist, then stood back to watch. Like a cat not content with simply mauling a mouse, it wanted the mouse to bite, squeal, thrash. It wanted to see it crawl before it crushed it again.
"So you won't stand?"
Khổng Tú frowned, her voice cool with annoyance.
"You think I won't?!"
Lạc Trần could feel the blood in his veins boil.
He didn't know why, but something in her cold, clinical tone - each syllable deliberate, each pause like a scalpel - made fury claw up his throat.
"So the Peacock of Chaos thinks she's untouchable?"
"Just because you've got four beams mimicking the elements, you think you're divine?"
Each word came with a step forward.
Khổng Tú flicked her wrist:
"Crimson Flame: devours chi, burns through soul. A force on par with celestial fire, blending all elements into one. In pure destruction, only Cloudspike Sect surpasses it."
A red beam surged behind her, coiling like a peacock's tail in full display.
"Black Water: binds flesh, soul, and chi alike. Its control rivals that of Violet Golden Sect."
One step, one declaration - Khổng Tú unleashed another radiant beam.
Lạc Trần answered with a third step.
"What, that dead-fish stare supposed to scare me?"
"White Wind: kills or cures on a whim. Salvation or annihilation, one thought makes the difference. Its breadth rivals the pinnacle arts of Skeletal Mountain."
Now, three luminous auras - red, black, and white - swirled behind her.
The raw chi surging from them forced blood from every pore in Lạc Trần's skin.
He yanked off the chest strap. Beneath it, a golden-shelled iron heart throbbed violently. The angrier he got, the brighter the twin flames inside burned - one ash-gray, the other sun-gold - flickering out through every seam, threatening to rupture.
For the first time, Khổng Tú hesitated.
"You are... a human?"
She blinked - once - then muttered four words.
"I'm no human. I'm a rabid dog!"
Lạc Trần growled.
Only a mad dog would dream of pulling a stunt like this.
He took the fourth step.
Now, face to face with Khổng Tú.
With a howl, he tore the burning iron heart from his chest and, channeling every shred of rage, swung it down toward her skull.
Khổng Tú flinched. Reflex took over, her arm shot up to block.
This wasn't a strike to break mortal bones.
This was a strike to shatter an Awakened.
Then... snap.
The heart slammed into her forearm with a wet crunch, twisting it backward just like Lạc Trần's spine had done moments ago.
He stared at the thumping heart in his fist, stunned.
"My heart is... that strong?"
Khổng Tú scowled, summoning White Wind to knit the bone. It mended, but her skin now bore a scorched welt, the mark of celestial fire, untouched even by White Wind.
Lạc Trần let out a wild laugh.
"Shit… should've tried harder to reach the head!"
He hadn't believed it'd work. If he had, he would've tried to crack her skull, to drag her down with him.
But regret has no cure.
Now the price of tearing out his heart came due. Exhaustion crashed in.
Still gripping the burning lump, Lạc Trần slumped backward.
His vision pulsed, clear one second, black the next. A swarm of bees buzzed inside his skull. He gasped over and over, but no air came.
His limbs failed him. Fingers flopped uselessly, like overcooked noodles. At some point, the heart slipped free.
As the world dimmed, Khổng Tú's face hovered into view.
Fine. Failing to kill her might not be so bad after all.
At least I won't be her plaything on the road to the afterlife.
That was his last thought before everything went black.
---The separator line decided to take a day off---
"Aah!"
Lạc Trần jolted upright.
The chest strap was torn, but the iron heart beat strong inside his ribcage again.
Tô Mạc Tà, seated beside his bed, immediately leaned in.
"Lạc đại ca, how do you feel?"
"Not… dead. But it makes no damn sense. What happened?"
"We got ambushed by Khổng Tú. She trapped us in some divine realm. I fought her over a hundred moves before she fled. When I came to, you were lying there, blood everywhere. I thought…"
She trailed off, shook her head, and asked:
"You hungry? I'll grab something to eat."
"Can I… not eat?"
"Relax. It's from the inn kitchen. I know my limits."
Watching her walk off, Lạc Trần couldn't help but smile.
Soon enough, she returned with a bowl of porridge, minced meat, and scallions. Clearly made by the inn, nothing exceptional, but leagues better than the culinary crimes of Tô Mạc Tà and Madame Mute.
The saintess of Floral Valley sat beside the bed, patiently feeding him spoon by spoon. Once he finished, she asked about what had happened.
Lạc Trần recounted everything. Khổng Tú's twisted game of heal-and-hurt, his fury, the heart-smash, and his eventual blackout.
When he awoke, the heart had returned to his chest.
Tô Mạc Tà listened quietly, then got up. At the door, she paused.
"The wound in your chest… it was healed by White Wind of the Peacock of Chaos."
Lạc Trần stared after her, mouth agape, brain short-circuited.
If she was right… then the one who saved him was Khổng Tú?