Wisps of smoke rose from the crater below, accompanied by an unusually foul stench.
At the bottom of the pit, a twisted, mangled, yet barely recognizable body was reforming.
His body had been nearly beaten to pieces, yet under the cohesion of a strange power, it was rapidly knitting itself back together.
Chen Chuan looked down. He had sensed earlier that two consciousnesses lay hidden within this man's body.
One was the persona driving the body on the surface, akin to the primitive desires of "Gluttony" and "Arrogance" he had encountered before.
The other was the consciousness submerged beneath, a potent mind controlling and directing the primary actions from behind the scenes. Moreover, unlike last time, this was no simple, feeble anchor—it possessed genuine power.
He wanted to see just how much strength this true master could muster when erupting with full force, and how he differed from Xiang Boqing.
Once the body reassembled, its face twisted into a hideous grimace. The original persona seemed to have suffered extreme provocation; the man turned an unnatural crimson all over, and the stench on him thickened noticeably.
He crawled out from the depths of the pit, steaming crimson flames erupting from his body, and let out a deep, furious roar: "Child of Gold, don't think I'm like those useless trash you've encountered!"
Chen Chuan said, "It seems you didn't hear what I said clearly."
He remained standing without moving, yet an illusory giant hand reached out from thin air and pressed down below.
Amidst the rumbling tremors of the hill, the body that had just emerged was shoved right back down, the flames beneath oozing out through the gaps between the fingers.
Tiny fissures spiderwebbed across the ground, from which a yellow-green liquid bubbled and seeped, releasing an utterly putrid odor.
Beneath the palm, a struggling force surged, accompanied by the distinct sense of a body undergoing a rapid metamorphosis and expanding in size.
In mere moments, the humanoid form below vanished, replaced by a monstrous beast whose coarse hide seemed to writhe with parasites beneath.
It had a broad head and bulging eyes—two eerie green orbs covered with nictitating membranes protruding on either side—along with short, stout limbs ending in webbed, five-toed feet like a frog's. A row of spine-like ridges ran down its back, tapering into a thick, long tail, and its entire body was covered in pustules weeping pus.
The creature possessed immense strength, slowly pushing up against his spiritual visage's giant hand.
Chen Chuan recognized it at a glance: this was the frog-lizard from the legends of the First People, a mythical creature fond of burrowing underground to feed on carrion and filth. Wherever it appeared, even nature spirits would recoil from its aura.
Legend also told that because it was despised by the gods, it would unleash furious roars whenever the gods held banquets and made merry.
This was a quintessential manifestation of the Visage of the Aberrant. Yet he knew full well that this person was actually a Visage of the Divine martial artist; their outward display merely differed depending on the vessel they possessed and usurped. This body had clearly walked the path of the Visage of the Aberrant originally, allowing it to display a substantial portion of aberrant abilities. Backed by the blessings of the Visage of the Divine, it gained further power, yet such strength alone still fell short of satisfying him.
Bearing the weight of the giant hand, the creature crawled out of the crater. Droplets of pus dripped from its mouth and hide onto the soil and grass stems, instantly sending up curls of smoke.
The surrounding ground had grown unnaturally soft; the interior of the entire hill was likely being eaten away by its bodily fluids.
Yet before the thing could unleash its might, its world suddenly spun. Its massive body was hurled from the hilltop, arcing through the air before crashing heavily at the foot of the hill, sending up plumes of dust and debris.
The tiny creatures of the Confluence in the soil had barely been disturbed before they were dissolved by the splattering corrosive vapors.
Chen Chuan instantly appeared at the base of the hill and walked toward the creature.
The beast lay there motionless, looking severely wounded. But as Chen Chuan drew near, it suddenly whipped around and charged at him with an aura so wildly volatile it seemed ready to explode.
Yet halfway through the air, an invisible forcefield arrested its forward charge, freezing it in midair like an insect trapped in amber. No matter how it struggled, it was futile; it could not even utter a roar, let alone unleash any of its mystical abilities.
Looking into its bulging, eerie green eyes, Chen Chuan said, "There's no need to bring out such feeble power. As I said, switch people."
As he spoke, the illusory giant hand materialized from the air once more, even larger than before. It grabbed the creature whole, and the five fingers curled inward, slowly tightening.
Under the crushing pressure, the creature's solid body emitted dull cracking sounds, and energy glows and fluids were squeezed out. Yet right as it was about to be crushed into paste, a remarkably pure brilliance radiated from within.
The domineering consciousness concealed inside finally surfaced completely and swiftly took control of the body. This power shattered its previous bounds of existence, and the form of the frog-lizard vanished into a wisp of smoke.
It reverted to humanoid form. Straightening its spine, it stood up, slowly prying open the giant hand that gripped it.
Chen Chuan gauged the situation and quickly deduced the opponent's current state.
There were many ways to employ the Visage of the Divine. Right now, it was unleashing its full power at the expense of the vessel's destruction, a surge that could last roughly half a minute.
This piqued his interest slightly, for that amount of time was enough for high-level martial artists to conclude a battle.
Except...
Once the figure fully forced open the giant hand, it was revealed to be a silhouette shimmering from head to toe in an orange radiance, with only the eyes distinguishable. Fixing its gaze on Chen Chuan, it suddenly lunged forward, thrusting a slender fist toward his face.
The speed and power displayed this time were incomparably greater than before—a display of genuine Dongxuan View strength. Martial artists below the threshold likely would not even be able to track his movements.
Seeing this, Chen Chuan raised a hand, intercepting the path of the fist. As fist collided with forearm, he immediately felt a fierce force crash into him.
Yet it amounted to little more than that. He was, after all, walking the path of the Visage of the Divine; in terms of raw physical strength alone, he fell far short of Xiang Boqing.
Even Xiang Boqing needed to merge body and visage to decisively overpower Chen Chuan, whereas in purely physical combat, Chen Chuan had not been at a disadvantage. Thus, he effortlessly blocked this blow, then shifted his single arm, parrying each successive strike one after another.
He quickly concluded that even in terms of speed, the opponent lagged noticeably behind Xiang Boqing—though that might be due to the limitations of the vessel.
This body had merely had its power forcibly elevated under the stimulation of the Visage of the Divine. It seemingly possessed neither the activation abilities of a Dongxuan View martial artist nor the capacity to grow stronger the longer it fought.
This caused him to quickly lose interest. Having no desire to tangle any further, he suddenly reached out and tapped a finger forward, striking the opponent's forehead before the other could react. A surge of spiritual fire accompanied by jin burst into the body, along with a stream of cyan luminous qi.
The silhouette stumbled back several paces. At first he felt nothing amiss, but soon saw his legs turning into soft mud, slowly melting away as streams of cyan luminous qi seeped out.
This was no illusion; it was actually happening. The melting progressed with terrifying speed—first the feet, then the torso, then swiftly spreading up the neck. Finally, the softened neck could no longer support the head, which dropped with a squelch into the pool of melted muck.
At that moment, he heard words drifting down from above: "Next time you come, don't disappoint me."
Hearing this, the faint sliver of consciousness lingering in the body flared with fury, but like a feeble spark, it flickered resentfully a few times before guttering out.
Chen Chuan patiently waited as the person dissolved into a mass of sludge under the effect of the Pure Spiritual Light, eventually turning into a pile of black powder. Only then did he turn and walk back up the hill.
By now, Puppet had mostly recovered. Sensing Chen Chuan's approach, he slowly stood up and watched him walk over, his eyes shining brightly.
Chen Chuan drew close and slowly held out a fist. Puppet likewise extended his hand, slowly offering his own fist forward.
The two fists drew together and touched. As knuckles met, Puppet felt a surge of spirit enter his body.
Chen Chuan likewise felt an enlightenment rise within his body and mind, as though he had experienced it firsthand and tempered it through hundreds and thousands of repetitions.
In truth, it was indeed something derived from his own cultivation.
With a slight smile, he looked up at Puppet and said, "That is a gift from me. I hope you like it."
Because they shared the same origin, he could easily have reclaimed Puppet. Yet through their contact, he had witnessed all of Puppet's memories and everything he had experienced over this period. So Chen Chuan severed the spiritual link binding Puppet to him, making them two entirely independent individuals.
From now on, Puppet would no longer need to depend on him or exist as an extension of his will; he could continue to exist in this world as Blood Staff.
Of course, had Chen Chuan wished to reclaim him, he could still do so; that was determined by their inherent nature and could not be altered. But he would not do that. He granted him a brand-new life and freedom.
In that moment, Puppet understood his origins and grasped the meaning of Chen Chuan's words. He said, "Thank you."
Chen Chuan smiled faintly. "Walk your own path from now on." With that, he lowered his fist, nodded toward the nearby mercenaries, and turned to leave.
Chapter 1275