Chapter Forty-Nine: Survival in Darkness

A pained roar thundered from beneath the earth as a stone coffin shot upward, bearing Fa Sheng straight into the sky. At eight thousand meters above ground, Luo Longyu burst out from the sarcophagus, seized Fa Sheng by the throat, and hurtled toward the ground with him in tow.

The friction of their rapid descent set the air ablaze, so that from afar, they appeared as a meteor plummeting through the sky.

With a deafening crash, smoke and dust soared, and a visible shockwave swept out in all directions, flinging many of the Void Spirit warriors into the air and scattering them across the battlefield.

“Brother Luo! It’s Brother Luo!” In the midst of the Void Spirit ranks, seeing the sudden descent of a blazing star and the wild blast that followed, Tong Wushao cried out in ecstatic surprise.

Within the crater, Luo Longyu gripped Fa Sheng’s throat with unyielding strength. His corpse-like eyes were chilling, the silver rings behind him radiating a murderous intent cold and merciless.

The surrounding Void Spirit warriors, seeing Fa Sheng in peril, surged forward, eager to rescue him.

Suddenly, a resonant phoenix’s cry echoed; the clouds stirred, and flames lit the horizon. An enormous fire phoenix swept down from the heavens, its wings casting a torrent of fire that cleaved the Void Spirit forces in two. The inferno was so fierce that, in a single instant, countless Void Spirits were lost to the flames.

“Falcon reporting: we’ve reached the designated airspace. Deploying thermobaric bombs.”

With a piercing shriek, five J-16 fighters streaked across the sky in combat formation. Dozens of gleaming white clouds blossomed in the void as the thermobaric bombs detonated.

These cloud-like aerosols, formed by the bombs, rapidly covered an area the size of several dozen football fields. The Void Spirit warriors below barely had time to react before thunder roared, the earth quaked, and a flood of fire swept over miles around. Temperatures soared instantly to 2,500 degrees Celsius, the superheated and high-pressure blast wave expanding at two kilometers per second—devastating as a nuclear strike.

Oxygen within the blast zone was consumed in moments. Despite their formidable bodies, the Void Spirit warriors were incinerated like snow in a furnace, most reduced to desiccated husks in seconds. The carnage was horrific—a sight to chill the blood.

The blast’s power nearly reached Ge Lao and his companions. Only fortune kept them outside the detonation zone; otherwise, even they would not have withstood such annihilation.

The intense heat and pressure had little effect on Luo Longyu. He was only knocked to the ground by a whirlwind of fire, with Fa Sheng tumbling nearby, nearly buried by the upturned earth.

At the Xuanyi Center, Elder Xuan watched the drone’s live feed of the battlefield, breathing deeply amid the chaos of overlapping radio transmissions.

“Third Front reporting: large numbers of Void Slaves detected, preparing to engage, over.”

“Feipeng Two, evasive maneuvers—those giant lizards are inbound.”

“Lion Squad has reached Rally Point Three. No survivors found. Advancing, over.”

“Skyeye to Foxhound: massive anomalous electromagnetic activity detected in Zone 02, over.”

“Executioner Squad, be advised: friendly forces approaching from ten o’clock. Hold fire, over.”

“Mastiff to Skyfire, Mastiff to Skyfire—coordinates 89376, requesting artillery strike, requesting artillery strike!”

It was clear now: the People’s Liberation Army had launched a full-scale counterattack. With the Xuanyi Center striking on all fronts, the military responded with sweeping operations, coordinated with intelligence from the Vatican. The disappearance of Wu Yifeng and the attack on the Xuanyi Center had forced China’s leadership to alter its strategy, though what, exactly, the Vatican had revealed remained unknown.

In western Hunan, the sky was filled with the helicopters of the Air Assault Brigade. Fully armed soldiers fast-roped to the ground, their rifles blazing. The roar of gunfire and helicopter cannons merged into a single thunderous symphony.

Seeing the military’s timely arrival, Ge Lao and his group let out a collective sigh of relief.

After repeated engagements with the Void Clan, the Chinese military had fully equipped itself with new weapons, specifically engineered to counter the Void Clan’s bone armor. New individual combat gear—including powered exoskeletons—was rapidly deployed, finally granting them the means to match the Void Spirits.

Fa Sheng staggered to his feet, his staff now cracked. Without the support of his main fleet’s Void Energy and remote firepower, his strength plummeted.

Civilizations, upon reaching a certain level, inevitably shift toward systematic warfare—true for both humans and Void Spirits. Even mystical civilizations, whose individuals possess immense power, eventually embrace coordinated tactics to unleash their full potential.

Had the Void Spirit main fleet been present, just three thousand warriors could have swept through western Hunan. Previous extinctions had proved the Void Spirit forces’ might far outstripped their current visible strength. But now, their fleet had yet to reach the Milky Way, leaving Fa Sheng without support.

“For your civilization to have come this far is astonishing. Yet we are not defeated. The Void Clan’s legions are invincible—your resistance is meaningless,” Fa Sheng declared, discarding his staff as he spoke to Luo Longyu, accepting the inevitability of defeat.

Behind Luo Longyu, eighteen corpse rings spun menacingly. He replied, “All your efforts are equally meaningless. You cannot conquer this planet. The Fifth Epoch holds a power you cannot comprehend. Do you think you are fighting only the Fifth Epoch? You are mistaken. When your Void legions reach Earth, you will find you face not just the Fifth Epoch, but the Third, the Fourth—and perhaps even other civilizations from distant worlds. Victory is beyond your grasp.”

Fa Sheng chuckled. “Is that so? If you fight to the bitter end, you’ll see that your true enemies are not only us.”

Luo Longyu had no patience for debate. He leapt forward, intent on battle.

He was no longer the ignorant youth he once was. After merging with the old man’s spirit, Luo Longyu had mastered the power of the Corpse Path within him. The Corpse Path was his weapon, and he himself—destruction incarnate.

Seeing Luo Longyu rush in, Fa Sheng unleashed his remaining Void Energy, his eyes blazing with blue fire as he roared, “We Eight Heirs of the Void, though outmatched, will never submit! For the glory of the Void Clan—fight!”

“Die!” Luo Longyu thundered.

The two clashed, their battle erupting from the crater to the open ground. Whirlwinds of unleashed energy tore through their surroundings with overwhelming force.

Fa Sheng abandoned all defense, launching a frenzy of attacks. In moments, Luo Longyu endured nearly a hundred savage blows. The Eight Heirs of the Void had earned their renown—Fa Sheng’s combat experience far exceeded Luo Longyu’s.

Even in this desperate situation, Fa Sheng’s ferocity was unmatched. Luo Longyu could not claim the upper hand.

Though battered by a hundred strikes, Luo Longyu tore off Fa Sheng’s arm and smashed half his head to pulp. Yet, still, Fa Sheng pressed on, his fighting spirit undiminished—warring for his clan, for glory. Though an enemy, Luo Longyu could not help but respect him—a true warrior who set life and death aside for honor. As worthy of respect as the old master before him.

Fa Sheng, now fighting single-handed, was a ruined figure—his body a mangled wreck after Luo Longyu’s relentless assault. His strength was all but gone; his energy depleted, his comrades annihilated. Of the Eight Heirs, only he remained. In this desperate, fatal moment, Fa Sheng chose to stand and fight.

His bloodied fist struck at Luo Longyu, who caught it easily. Fa Sheng had no strength left; now, even an ordinary soldier could have ended him.

Fa Sheng lunged weakly, headbutting Luo Longyu, but Luo Longyu stopped him with a single hand.

“Must you continue?” Luo Longyu asked.

Deep cracks marred half of Fa Sheng’s face, his nearly lightless eyes flickering with the last trace of blue. With his dying breath, he rasped, “For... the warrior’s honor... for the Void King... eternal life...” Struggling, he tried to kick Luo Longyu, but the blow was too feeble to be felt.

Ge Lao and his companions watched silently from a hundred meters away, saying nothing.

From afar, Luo Mengxuan shouted, “Hey! Luo Longyu, what are you waiting for? Finish him!”

Little Guai, perched on Luo Mengxuan’s shoulder, hopped anxiously. “Finish him, finish him...”

Luo Longyu ignored them, gazing at Fa Sheng. After a moment, he asked, “Knowing death is certain, why do you still fight so desperately?”

Fa Sheng gave a guttural laugh, his mind’s voice resonating in Luo Longyu’s head: “And what of you? Survival, the Corpse Path—you embody destruction, but I hope that one day you’ll reflect on survival. War is not as simple as you think. The Fifth Epoch’s understanding of war is only superficial. I look forward to facing you again in the future. For the honor of the warrior, I choose to let you end this broken body.” With that, Fa Sheng broke free, soared into the heavens, and unleashed his remaining energy. He became a vast blue sigil, branded across the sky.

In that instant, every mind present echoed with a soaring cry: “For the glory of the Void Clan!” Fa Sheng, with his single arm, raised the sigil high, which swirled dust into a vast tornado reaching to the heavens, exuding boundless fighting spirit.

Luo Longyu looked up at the still-defiant Fa Sheng and struck without hesitation. The Heaven-Sundering Nine Slashes shattered the sky for a hundred miles, a blood-red arc cleaving the heavens. With a single blow, the blue sigil was destroyed, the raging Void Energy tearing space itself asunder, obliterating Fa Sheng completely—leaving not a trace.

As the dust settled and the lonely wind swept the sky, Luo Longyu felt no joy or satisfaction in Fa Sheng’s death. He had sensed no true malice from Fa Sheng. Fa Sheng had not seen them as enemies, yet fought to the death—not for himself, but for his clan and his king.

Once, Luo Longyu had harbored only hatred for the Void Clan. Yet Fa Sheng’s actions now weighed heavily upon his heart.

“Hey!” Luo Mengxuan hopped in front of him, patting his shoulder.

Luo Longyu, expressionless, looked at her, said nothing, and walked away, leaving Luo Mengxuan bewildered.

He approached the old man, who now appeared as a dried corpse, seated like a withered stump, utterly lifeless.

“Having slain the Eight Heirs, yet you are heavy-hearted. It seems... you have truly tasted the bitterness of war,” the old man’s faint spirit whispered in Luo Longyu’s mind.

The old man had not fully died.

Luo Longyu sat beside him, making no effort to save him. He knew it was futile—the old man’s soul had dissipated during their union. This was but a lingering remnant, which would soon fade completely.

“The horror of war is not in the blood and death on the surface, but in the deeper despair and helplessness beneath. Your grandfather vanished into the endless stars for this very reason. In time, you will face even harsher, more unbearable truths. The Corpse Path is ruthless, for it brushes against the world’s coldest, most heartless realities. The future is yours to bear.”

The old man’s spirit faded. Luo Longyu did not move, watching as the body beside him crumbled to dust and drifted away. He glanced at the yellow dog, dead nearby from the backlash of devouring Void Spirits, and felt numb inside. He no longer knew what to think. The battle had shattered his understanding of war; he did not know how to face it anymore.

But no matter what he thought or how he tried to face it, fate could not be avoided. He still had to recover his mother’s body, and the Void invasion had to be stopped. The battles ahead would be even more brutal, and who could say how many lives would be lost? None of it could be changed.

Survival—a profound word—tainted by blood and death, built atop bones and darkness. Upon such foundations, one builds survival—of oneself, a people, a civilization. But what of the others? What of the civilizations reduced to bones? Is destruction the price of survival itself? Luo Longyu’s thoughts were in turmoil.