Sword light swept across everything. Several Demon Commanders who fancied themselves powerful were split in two by Yang Kai's strike, flesh and blood spraying in every direction. The lingering force of the sword energy carved out a wide swath, reducing every demon in its path to shredded remains.
Only one tall barbarian remained standing.
The glow of a sorcery shield flickered across his body, but it could not hide the horrific sight of half his flesh having already dissolved into thick, foul liquid. Before Yang Kai had arrived, he had already killed dozens of Demon Generals and Demon Commanders with his own sorcery, burning his life force like mad to keep his mangled body upright.
The two locked eyes. The barbarian split into a grin. "Heh heh, Wu Niu…"
"Wutu…" Yang Kai regarded the great sorcerer before him, his expression conflicted.
Only a few months ago, the two of them had clashed in the Southern Barbarians' royal city. This Wutu had been full of provocations and defiance toward him, and now, months later, the great sorcerer's gaze as he looked at Yang Kai was no less hostile—there was even a hint of rivalry in it.
"I thought you hadn't come. Turns out you got here before me," Wutu chuckled in a low voice, utterly unconcerned with the gruesome state of half his body melted into sludge—the result of the Black Radiance eruption's corrosive power. Bones stood exposed, internal organs clearly visible as they continued to dissolve, dripping onto the ground.
"I just arrived," Yang Kai said with a slight nod.
"Good!" Wutu maintained his smile. The pain had not robbed him of his wits; if anything, he was more lucid than ever. His expression turned solemn. "In these past few months, over seven thousand demons have died at the hands of my Wutu clan. What about you?"
"Not as many as you," Yang Kai replied.
Wutu laughed out loud. "Then I win! Ha ha ha ha ha!"
He still remembered the wager he had made with Yang Kai before leaving the royal city.
Yang Kai nodded. "You did win." He paused. "Can you hold on?"
Wutu shook his head. "Can't do it anymore. You can see what I look like, and my clansmen are all dead. The Wutu clan has only me left. It's time I went to join them."
"Go well." Yang Kai nodded solemnly and pressed a hand to his chest in salute.
Wutu raised a skeletal hand in return, then suddenly shouted with fierce intensity: "Go find the Sorcerer King! The Southern Barbarians will not perish!"
With that, he turned and strode toward the densest concentration of demons. A halting, guttural chant of sorcerous incantations rang out, and Wutu's body erupted with a blinding radiance—a light like roaring flames that engulfed him entirely.
Life Sacrifice!
It was a forbidden art—the one form of sorcery that all practitioners were strictly forbidden from using lightly. But in this moment, Wutu wielded it to unleash the final, brilliant blaze of his life.
In this ancient era, all barbarians believed that after death they would return to the embrace of the Barbarian God, their souls departing to the Shaman God's Temple. Death was not an end for them, but another kind of beginning.
Only one type of person forfeited that right: sorcerers who cast the forbidden Life Sacrifice. Under normal circumstances, even facing death and the dissolution of their Dao, great sorcerers would not resort to such a taboo art, for to cast it meant surrendering the right to return to the Barbarian God's embrace and have one's soul enter the Shaman God's Temple. That was nearly unbearable to contemplate.
But with the demons invading their homeland, Wutu had no other choice. Even if it meant wandering as a restless ghost for eternity, even if it meant being abandoned by the Barbarian God, he would contribute his last measure of strength for his people.
The demons, unaware of what was happening, closed in around him. Wutu roared with laughter, letting their razor-sharp weapons hack into his body without resistance, even as the burning fire of his life blazed ever brighter.
The demons crowding around him finally sensed something was wrong. By the time they tried to turn and flee, it was too late.
A tremendous explosion erupted—as though someone had lit a spectacular, multicolored firework. Wutu's entire body detonated into a mist of blood, and every demon in his vicinity vanished in the same instant.
Within a hundred-zhang radius—utterly cleared.
Yang Kai was already charging toward the center of the battlefield.
He had sensed a familiar aura there—that of Sorcerer King Dang. But the aura was feeble and fading, an unmistakable sign that Dang's condition was dire.
After the Black Radiance eruption, the Southern Barbarians had been reduced to only a few tens of thousands. Now, after the demons' relentless charge, their numbers had plummeted further. Barbarian warriors fell one after another, and without the warriors' protection, the sorcerers could barely fulfill their role. Physically frail as they were, even the most exquisite sorcery could not bridge the vast disparity in numbers.
One after another, great sorcerers in desperate circumstances began chanting the incantation of Life Sacrifice. Again and again, they ignited the final embers of their existence, dragging varying numbers of demons down with them into oblivion.
The scattered barbarians were slaughtered to the last. Only the ten thousand or so clustered at the very center still maintained an orderly rhythm. Sorceries of every hue painted them in a kaleidoscope of color, each warrior wearing an expression of fearless resolve as they fought the demons to the bitter end.
The defensive perimeter shrank step by step, and the ten thousand dwindled rapidly.
Yang Kai's sudden appearance shocked everyone. Even the demons froze, staring at him as they watched him carve a bloody path through their ranks to link up with the besieged barbarians.
Pushing into the innermost layer, Yang Kai quickly spotted Sorcerer King Dang.
"Your Majesty!"