Meng Que was dying. His body was riddled with wounds, his life force fading. Without intervention, he wouldn't last more than the time it took to finish a cup of tea—and Mo Naye could see that clearly.
Perhaps it was precisely because death was imminent that he would make such a surprising move.
On the other side, even though no one knew exactly what Meng Que intended, his actions were far from normal. In their dazed state, Tian Xiuzhu and the others wanted to stop him, but they had no strength left to muster. The repeated clashes just now had killed three of their number, and the three survivors were nearly spent—completely drained. All they could do was watch as Meng Que moved toward Mo Naye, his aura blazing with the desperate brilliance of a dying flame, as if he meant to cut Mo Naye down on the spot.
And Meng Que's hoarse, furious roars only deepened their confusion, making them wonder whether some irreconcilable grudge existed between these two Ink Clan powerhouses…
Otherwise, why would Meng Que be so enraged when he was already on the brink of death?
In the blink of an eye, Meng Que arrived before Mo Naye. Their eyes met. Mo Naye's gaze was filled with bitterness, but Meng Que's eyes burned like flames—the fuel being what little life force he had left.
The next instant, Meng Què's body shuddered as he poured every last shred of his strength into action. The Ink Force within him surged forth wildly, so dense, so pure that it surpassed any normal threshold.
In moments, the space where Meng Que stood was engulfed by a massive cloud of ink. The ink cloud writhed as though alive, wrapping around Mo Naye and pouring into his body through his wounds, mouth, and nostrils in a torrent.
Visibly, Mo Naye's battered and withered aura began to recover. Even the grievous wound that had pierced clean through his torso started to close. In exchange, Meng Que's presence and life force grew fainter and fainter.
"This is bad!" Tian Xiuzhu hissed through clenched teeth. Seeing this, he realized immediately that Meng Que hadn't gone to harm Mo Naye at all—he was healing him.
Though he couldn't tell what mysterious secret technique Meng Que was using, the fact was plain: Mo Naye's injuries were mending.
This kind of technique had never appeared before. The humans had never encountered it, so no one had been prepared for Meng Que's final act—let alone able to stop it. There hadn't been anyone capable of intervening at that moment anyway.
Yang Kai had expended tremendous effort to wound Mo Naye so severely. If the Ink Clan leader recovered, all that effort would have been for nothing.
Tian Xiuzhu gritted his teeth and wanted to charge forward to interfere, but the moment he tried to rally his power, his face went pale and his mind waver…
The fierce battle just now had nearly emptied his Small Universe of energy. Forcing it now only caused his Small Universe to destabilize violently.
He had no strength left to fight—and the other two Eighth-Grade cultivators were in even worse condition. After all, as a veteran Eighth-Grade, Tian Xiuzhu's reserves were still deeper than those of the newer generation.
On the other side, Yang Kai had also witnessed everything. He wanted to intervene but lacked the power. It seemed that the Dragon Pearl's strike had ruptured the River of Space-Time, causing the power of the Great Dao to fluctuate wildly. He needed to stabilize his own Dao power immediately before he could act.
A short while later, the ink cloud enveloping Mo Naye dissipated—and Meng Que was gone. It seemed that the False King Lord had poured every last drop of his power into Mo Naye before death, aiding his recovery.
Mo Naye had indeed recovered somewhat. His injuries had improved considerably. But it was far from enough. He was a King Lord now, and the more severe the wound, the more troublesome the recovery. It was not something a single dying False King Lord's merger could resolve.
If he truly wanted to recover, he would need every False King Lord present to merge into him—but the technique required willingness. Who among those False King Lords would willingly walk to their deaths to fuse into him?
That Meng Que had come to help him at the very end already stunned Mo Naye. The two of them had never exactly gotten along.
At the edge of hearing, Meng Que's final words still seemed to echo:
*Live on. You must live on! The Ink Clan is foolish, short on wisdom. Only by surviving can you have the qualifications to aid the Supreme One in completing the great undertaking!*
Mo Naye suddenly realized he had always underestimated Meng Que. The man had always acted rashly and arrogantly in his presence—perhaps that had all been a disguise…
He had misjudged him.
Mo Naye laughed bitterly to himself.
Ripples spread through the void as Yang Kai's piercing shout suddenly rang out: "Mo Naye, your time has come!"
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Mo Naye, who had only just recovered a fraction of his strength, snapped his gaze upward. Yang Kai had also hastily stabilized his mind and Dao power, and was charging at him with spear leveled.
Bitterness filled Mo Naye's heart. He knew he was likely going to fail Meng Que's expectations.
Against a monster like Yang Kai, losing could only mean one thing—death. Flee? With Yang Kai's spatial abilities, that was out of the question.
It had always been Yang Kai who escaped from Ink Clan pursuers. No Ink Clan member had ever survived being hunted by Yang Kai.
Since there was no retreat, then there was only one option—fight.
If Meng Que could face death so valiantly, why couldn't he?
"Yang Kai!" Mo Naye roared through gritted teeth. This time, there was no retreat. He charged forward to meet Yang Kai head-on.
Two titans clashed once more.
In their previous exchange, Yang Kai had held absolute superiority, using the Dragon Pearl to grievously wound Mo Naye. Even with Meng Que's secret technique aiding the recovery, such a devastating wound wasn't so easily healed.
Meeting again now, Mo Naye was still outmatched. Had it not been for the power Meng Que had given him, he would have been slain within three to five moves.
It was Meng Que's sacrifice that had granted him the capital to fight Yang Kai once more.
The power of the Great Dao collided and intermingled. Ink Force surged and roared. Two figures tangled together, twisting and tumbling through the void—every strike aimed to kill, every moment fraught with mortal peril.
Golden blood and Ink blood sprayed in every direction!