Chapter Forty-Three: The Final Struggle

As the Beast had predicted, a tremendous surge of demonic power rushed in. Su Yan, whose demonic form had only just receded, now showed signs of transformation once more, and under the fierce onslaught, Gu Zhongyan awoke from his state of enhancement.

If, moments ago, he had felt the blood in his veins running like molten lava, with the continued influx of demonic power, his blood truly threatened to become magma. The power of a demon was indeed not something a human body could withstand. So, when Gu Zhongyan first forged the link between the Beast and Su Yan, he had only borrowed a fraction of that power, then sealed it at the edge of Hell.

Had it been the Gu Zhongyan of that time, he would have been torn to shreds by this overwhelming force, just as the Beast had envisioned. But now, feeling the tingling pain as power surged through him, Gu Zhongyan swung his wand toward the massive dragon bones beside him.

"Forming Spell!"

Waves of magic, guided by his wand, poured madly into the dragon bones. The enormous bones trembled under the flood of power, greedily absorbing the magic that overflowed from Gu Zhongyan’s body.

As a human, Gu Zhongyan still lacked the capacity to bear the full force of a demon. But the dragon bones were different. As the guardian bestowed upon Kunlun by the Celestial Sovereign, a dragon at its peak could ascend to the level of a Heavenly Father. Even compared to the Hell Lords of the infernal dimensions, its existence was not inferior in the scale of life. Its remains, therefore, could easily withstand the might of an ordinary demon.

Infused with magic, the colossal dragon bones seemed to resurrect, their vast form trembling and shuddering. They let out a deep, creaking groan that echoed like the Statue of Liberty shaking on its pedestal—a sound that made one doubt whether the century-old monument would survive the dragon bones’ grasp.

As the tremors intensified, the bones fractured, fragmenting and floating into the air, mingling with the magical array surrounding Su Yan. Thick white chains appeared, instantly filling the void, reaching into Su Yan’s body and extending into another realm.

They slithered forward, their movement accompanied by the clear clash of metal, converging from all directions and winding tightly around the Beast. The chains interlocked ring by ring, each link in perpetual motion—not forged of metal, but composed of shattered fragments of dragon bone.

Enigmatic magical runes coiled around these chains, swelling and shrinking, flickering ceaselessly. Gazing at the chains that emerged from the void and bound him tightly, the Beast finally panicked.

He could feel the demonic energy he had poured out being relentlessly absorbed by the dragon bone chains, transformed into a force that now shackled him. As the chains wound tighter around him, he realized this was no longer a matter of whether he wished to unleash demonic power. The dragon bone chains encircling him were like syringes drawing blood, and under the spell’s influence, they began to siphon the magic from his very being.

His massive body, under the draining effect of the chains and the magic, withered rapidly, like a festering boil being drained of its poison. Beneath the chains, the Beast’s life force ebbed swiftly away—his fate seemingly sealed.

Yet, he was still a demon of Hell. Though he could not compare to Hell Lords like Mephisto, Lucifer, or Satan, any demon capable of projecting its power from Hell to Earth was far from ordinary. The loss of power only fueled his resistance. With a furious roar, unimaginable negative energy surged forth, like the anguished wails of Hell itself, riding the current of demonic power.

Chaos, slaughter, envy, resentment, greed...

Countless ages of accumulated negativity from Hell erupted, flooding through the bond between Su Yan and Gu Zhongyan, surging madly through Gu Zhongyan’s sea of consciousness, magnifying every shadowed corner of his heart.

Every demon was the perfect fusion of warrior and mage—magic was the Beast’s native craft. His immortal existence let him see at a glance the foundation of Gu Zhongyan’s cultivation. If Gu Zhongyan’s sea of consciousness were destroyed, his magical foundation would crumble in an instant. Then, the Beast would not only break free from death’s grip, but also descend to the mortal world and claim dominion over all.

A torrent of negative emotions, like an endless infernal army, rushed into Gu Zhongyan’s sea of consciousness. An ordinary person would have been helpless before such terror, driven mad or turned into a murderous fiend.

But Gu Zhongyan was different. He was a psychic warlock, his power over the mind, honed through three lifetimes, far surpassed that of any ordinary man. Besides, his greatest expertise lay in mental occlusion.

The instant the flood of negativity crashed into his sea of consciousness, a solid barrier rose within his mind. Like an unyielding mountain, it stood unmoved by the wildest storms.

“This is impossible! You cannot possess such a powerful mental defense—I do not believe it! I do not believe, no matter how strong your mind, you can withstand the whole of Hell!”

“Be drowned!”

With a roar, the souls of Hell wailed, unleashing piercing shrieks. A terrifying tide of negative emotion, vast as the ocean, surged into Gu Zhongyan’s sea of consciousness. These were the accumulated grievances, resentments, and laments of souls plundered by the Beast over millennia—a force as boundless as the cosmos compared to Gu Zhongyan’s own inner sea.

Yet, faced with this endless malice, Gu Zhongyan remained unshaken. Grasping his wand, he uttered a single incantation—his trump card.

“Patronus!”

A silvery light blossomed within his sea of consciousness. Like a tender sprout, the guardian spirit grew, its faint radiance brimming with all that was beautiful in humanity. Like sunlight melting ice, it blocked the onrushing tide of negativity.

But compared to the surging evil of Hell, this fragile light seemed far too weak. Seeing this, the Beast sneered, ready to mock Gu Zhongyan’s futile resistance—when, unexpectedly, another scene unfolded.

Atop the torch of the Statue of Liberty, a blazing fire of the soul ignited, shining in resonance with the guardian spirit. Like a sun plunging into the ocean, it appeared in Gu Zhongyan’s sea of consciousness.

This was the projection of spirit accumulated by the Statue of Liberty over many years—as the symbol of America’s free will, the statue had gathered the most beautiful hopes of its people. The malice of Hell was endless, but so too was human hope.

Now, the two forces—one of darkness, one of light—irreconcilable by nature, clashed in Gu Zhongyan’s mind like two mighty armies locked in battle.