Chapter Forty-Seven: Fusion, Battle!

Eight figures floated in the void, suspended a foot above the ground, their bodies shrouded in dark bone armor. Each possessed a single vertical eye, the bone plates leaving only a solitary pupil exposed, flickering with a chilling light.

The forms of these eight phantoms were all different: some bore four arms, some had a human head atop a beast’s body, others a single horn jutting from their brow, or fleshy wings sprouting from their backs.

Within the Void Clan, aside from the most basic thralls, it was nearly impossible to find two identical phantoms. According to the knowledge gathered so far, the Void Clan belonged to a class of aberrant evolvers; during their long development, they could devour other species at will, assimilating foreign genes into their own chain to facilitate evolution. Each cycle could last from mere days to centuries, meaning their maturation was excruciatingly slow—a single phantom required thousands of years to reach adulthood. But once matured, their twisted evolution ceased, and they entered decline.

It was an astonishing truth: for a common phantom, thousands of years were required to mature, yet their period of descent lasted barely a century.

Unlike humans, these phantoms were the product of a civilization blending mysticism and technology. Each one mastered a path of cultivation to prolong their lives, and some among them could even trigger a second or multiple periods of gene evolution.

But returning to the present: the Eight Sons of the Celestial Void exuded a terrifying aura. Young Master Tong trembled at the sight of them; the House of Tong, an ancient lineage tracing back to the Third Age of Civilization, had been brought to ruin by these very Eight Sons. In his family’s history, their name was synonymous with annihilation.

Among the Eight, only one bore a weapon—a scepter forged of some alloy, its spiral tip glimmering with a cold light, exuding murderous intent.

“That’s... the leader of the Eight Sons, Lifebane,” Young Master Tong stammered, terror filling his eyes.

Elder Ge’s broad hand gently rested on the youth’s shoulder. Startled, he turned, but seeing the elder’s kindly gaze, his fear abated somewhat.

Lifebane’s lone eye settled on the old man—a gaze as deep and empty as the void of space.

None of the Eight Sons moved; they simply watched the group in silence, while the elder met their eyes unflinchingly. The oppressive atmosphere made it hard for the onlookers to breathe, and even the faint breeze had vanished.

After a long silence, Lifebane’s gaze shifted, and a faint wind stirred, lifting dust and sand. “To forcefully sever the assimilation of a phantom with your own strength—is this your way of digging your own grave?”

Lifebane’s words did not issue from his mouth—he had none. Instead, his thoughts reverberated directly in the minds of Elder Ge and his companions.

The old man smiled slowly. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“Indeed. Our assimilation was interrupted. Less than half of our void energy has transferred over,” Lifebane admitted without concealment. It was not foolishness but confidence; even with less than half his void energy, he felt sure he could slay the elder.

“Void energy transfer? What does that mean?” Left Hundred Stars looked to Elder Ge in confusion.

Elder Ge shook his head; mankind’s understanding of phantoms was still shallow. Young Master Tong spoke softly, “I know. During the Third Age of Civilization, the Eight Sons of the Celestial Void fought my family. They were banished by the combined might of a hundred ancestors to the edge of the universe—a barren realm where nothing exists, not even time. Once there, no being can return, not even the gods of legend. Our ancestors believed the threat of the Eight Sons was ended forever. But the Void Clan is too formidable—a hybrid civilization, their bodies and genes far beyond our ancestors’ imagination.”

“They phased themselves into void state, and by some means unknown to us, exchanged places with molecules on Earth, a process that took eons but allowed them to escape that desolation. This time, their transfer was interrupted by this elder, so less than half their void energy has arrived. Which means, this elder knew long ago the Eight Sons’ point of exchange was here.”

Upon hearing this, Dragon Young Lord looked at the elder. “Then why didn’t you destroy their transfer earlier?”

The elder replied quietly, “Such nourishment must be used at the most opportune moment.”

“What do you mean?” Dragon Young Lord asked, perplexed.

The old man did not answer, but Lifebane spoke instead: “Nourishment? Do you intend to use us as fuel for the Path of Corpses? It seems you’ve planned this for a long time. But I wonder, by what means do you intend to accomplish this?”

“By traveling the Path of Corpses,” the elder replied truthfully.

“To use yourself as a vessel, shatter your own genes, and forcibly merge with the Path of Corpses... You must know this will exhaust your flesh, and your soul will be devoured by the path. You will be erased from the memory of the universe itself, denied even the chance of reincarnation.”

The old man chuckled, “If I do not stop you, reincarnation is useless.”

“I see. So you are resolved to die. I must say, you have my admiration. You are a worthy adversary. Whatever the outcome of this battle, I will remember you as a true warrior.” Lifebane bowed to the old man, then slowly raised his scepter. “Let us begin.”

Beneath the ground, Luo Longyu was enduring unspeakable torment. His body was filled with silicon-based crystals, shattering every tissue and merging with his carbon-based corpse. In this moment, Luo Longyu felt as if he had lost something and gained something else—a mystical state. It was as if he had fused with a titan, whose body was as boundless as the sea, and perhaps this titan was himself. Unprecedented sensations and power surged forth from the devastation and remaking of his form.

Time seemed to slow, until it was nearly still. Luo Longyu could not perceive its passage; or, rather, it had become so slow as to be negligible.

Within him, the double helix of his genes was ceaselessly shattered. As these spirals were destroyed, searing energy flooded in—a pulse from the earth itself. Luo Longyu felt a blaze in his chest, as if a sun were forming there. The molecules within this sun collided and fused, unleashing searing heat, while monstrous pressures maintained the reaction, annihilating the original structure of his body.

The double helix was battered by this energy; gene locks unraveled, unleashing the human body's imprisoned power. These forces clashed with the crystalline invaders, turning Luo Longyu’s body into a vast battlefield of war.

Collisions erupted everywhere, annihilation was omnipresent—the contest of silicon and carbon. Luo Longyu seemed to become a man of fire, the heat within him reaching astonishing levels; the carbon was rapidly devoured. But repeatedly, the carbon genes erupted with mountainous strength, meeting the silicon assault head-on. With each clash, waves of explosive force swept through him.

Furious energy shattered the crystalline shell encasing Luo Longyu, bursting from the stone coffin. The bestial carvings on the sarcophagus crumbled one after another, yet the raging power did not abate. Amid the surging, molten rock, waves as high as mountains rose and crashed, like tempests at sea.

Lava burst from the earth with such violence that those above were startled. Torrents of molten rock crashed down like rain. Elder Ge traced a Tai Chi circle with his hand, diverting all the falling magma away.

“It is time,” the old man murmured, not turning his head.

Deep underground, after a final, shattering collision, Luo Longyu’s inner turmoil subsided. His genetic chain was being reassembled; the silicon structure borrowed the carbon spiral, and the carbon fused perfectly with the silicon. In his chest, a burning sphere of energy blazed, and beside it spun a dark orb, the two rotating slowly together, companions like binary stars in the universe.

Luo Longyu’s corpse cooled rapidly, as though he had been entirely remade, exuding an aura wholly unfamiliar. In this moment, he was neither carbon-based nor silicon-based life; his form could not be defined.

After such violent fusion, Luo Longyu abruptly realized that the Path of Corpses was not death, a phrase oft repeated in the manual of the Corpse Path. Now he understood—the Path was not annihilation, but a fusion and metamorphosis. After the conflict and union of silicon and carbon, he could not say whether he was alive or dead. Perhaps this was the feeling of escaping the cycle of life and death.

“Young one, you’ve survived by a hair’s breadth. The bloodline of Xuanyuan is domineering. Congratulations on enduring. But it is not enough. Now, let this old man borrow your body to test the results. You must also comprehend the essence of battle. The potential of your genes is only beginning to be tapped, and you have yet to master it. Let me guide you the final step—observe closely and understand.”

The old man’s voice sounded in Luo Longyu’s mind.

Before Luo Longyu could respond, his vision flashed—he was back above ground. Yet he felt estranged from himself, unable to describe the sensation. He possessed his own consciousness, yet also another’s.

“I... you... who? Who am I? Who are you?” Luo Longyu looked down at his aged hands, his mind in chaos. Familiar memories and foreign experiences intertwined, fragmentary recollections he had never lived flashed through his thoughts—the old man’s memories, a confusion that left him incoherent.

“I am you, and you are me. Fusion, return to origin, unite!” He heard himself speak these words, and then his consciousness blurred. In a heartbeat, he was clear again, but he was no longer himself.

The old man’s eyes suddenly blazed with fierce light. Blood-red crystals cloaked his body, and a divine, demonic aura erupted from him, striking awe into all who saw him.

Opposite, Lifebane narrowed his eye, voice heavy. “Union of souls—so you have mastered such a high-civilization art. It seems you have inherited well the arts of Earth’s Third Age.”

“I am the Corpse Path,” the elder declared. Now, he was not merely the old man, but Luo Longyu’s spirit as well. The two had become one.

“The art of fusion—heaven will not tolerate it. This elder truly intends to die, to fulfill Luo Longyu,” Elder Ge murmured, grief in his expression as he watched the old man’s back. He had witnessed the elder’s power, and knew that, whatever the outcome, the old man would not survive.

Lifebane spoke no more. His scepter swept forth, unleashing a flood of light that turned all it touched to ash—forceful and tyrannical.

At the same moment, the phantom Tianjin, with wings unfurled, shot forward like lightning, heading straight for the great pit behind the old man—intent on destroying Luo Longyu’s true body.

Dragon Young Lord swung her halberd to intercept, but in that instant, the old man’s figure appeared without warning before Tianjin. With a single motion, he seized the phantom, conjured a blazing blade with his other hand, and cleaved Tianjin apart. His speed surpassed even Tianjin’s.

In the next moment, the old man unleashed the Divine King’s Point of Cang, tearing Lifebane’s flood of light asunder and charging into the fray...