Celestial Human Diagram-Chapter 131 - 118: Morning Light (2)

Seeing him sitting there motionless, leaning on his blade, everyone thought he was resting. This was completely understandable. After all, just getting close to those Flying Heads was enough to make them lose their minds, yet Chen Chuan had faced a whole group of them, including the Flying Head Root Source itself. The pressure must have been immense; they couldn’t imagine how he had endured it.

So, everyone moved about with extreme caution, afraid of disturbing him.

Around noon, some people came up from the base of the mountain carrying sacrificial offerings. Others were assigned to perform the rites and offerings. Fortunately, they didn’t need to go inside the temple; staying outside was sufficient.

As evening approached, a few people followed Chen Chuan into the old temple and placed the offerings on the altar. When they saw the floor littered with Flying Heads, they were utterly shocked. They knew just how troublesome these things were, and couldn’t help but look at him with gazes full of admiration.

Chen Chuan said, "Thank you for your trouble."

"It’s no trouble at all, Expert Chen. How could our small task compare to what you’ve done?"

After a few more pleasantries, they had to leave without getting a good look at the place. They knew they couldn’t stay for long; after just a short while, they already felt unwell, faintly nauseous, and dizzy.

Once they were out and standing under the Sun, they felt as if they had been reborn. They couldn’t help but marvel, wondering how Chen Chuan had managed to endure being inside for so long.

Chen Chuan sat down on a nearby stone step. He leaned the Snow Monarch Blade against the wall beside him and glanced up. The sunlight filtering down from above was perhaps the only source of warmth in this place.

He sat alone and silent in the temple from a bygone era, seeming to blend into it. Yet his eyes remained bright, and the Long Blade at his side looked ready to unleash its sharp edge at any moment.

As time passed, the light gradually faded, and dusk slowly settled in.

There were two rituals: one at 6:30 in the morning and one at 6:30 in the evening. The next one was fast approaching.

Chen Chuan raised his hand to check his watch. Seeing that it was almost time, he stood up and lit the circle of torches mounted on the old temple’s walls. The area was soon brightly illuminated by the firelight.

But in the flickering firelight, the elongated shadows, the toppled stone statues behind him, and the mangled flesh and blood scattered around only made the surroundings seem even more grim and terrifying.

Suddenly, the bound sheep on the altar began to tremble. At the same time, its flesh and skin split open on their own, and blood seeped out, flowing down on all sides.

Chen Chuan stared up above the altar. A moment later, the torches flickered violently. Then, abruptly, the Flying Head emerged from the shadows above, diving straight for the offering below. Its long hair fanned out, like a massive shadow descending.

Chen Chuan took two steps forward, crossing five or six meters in an instant. He lashed out with a whip kick, striking the head with perfect accuracy and knocking it away from the altar.

Its meal interrupted, the Flying Head let out a familiar, ear-piercing shriek and tried to approach the altar again. But Chen Chuan stood his ground, constantly driving it back with kicks, preventing it from getting close. After being kicked away an untold number of times, the Flying Head finally vanished once more.

Chen Chuan stood for a moment, then took out the piece of Yellow Jade he was carrying. It had turned completely black. He gave it a light squeeze, and it crumbled into dust, trickling through his fingers.

This time, the Yellow Jade had absorbed part of the damage for him. Tomorrow, he would have to bear the full brunt of it himself.

However, he could clearly feel that the Flying Head had appeared for a much shorter time than before, which proved his method was working.

With a wave of his hand, he walked back outside. After briefing Gu Mingde and the others, he went to the tent they had prepared for him to rest, silently guiding the growth of his Mutated Organization.

The next morning, he entered the old temple once again. The day’s events unfolded much like the day before; each time, he successfully kept the Flying Head away from its sacrificial meal.

By the end of the day, however, the toll on his Second Self had deepened considerably, though it was still within a tolerable range. ’This is truly a battle of attrition. The damage to my Second Self is continuous and cumulative. At this rate, even if nothing else changes, I’ll hit my limit in a day or two.’

On the third day, after making some adjustments, Chen Chuan entered the old temple again. When the ritual began and the Flying Head appeared, he once again successfully forced it to retreat. This time, the Flying Head only manifested for a few minutes.

He had a premonition that the next encounter would likely be the moment he finished this thing for good.

The Sun moved across the sky, and another day that felt both slow and fast passed. As evening arrived and it was time for the ritual again, one of the commission members outside suddenly shouted, pointing away from the mountain, "Captain Gu, look!"

Gu Mingde looked over, his expression startled. Black dots were flying in from all directions—they were all Flying Heads. A quick count put their number at forty or fifty.

He reacted instantly. "They must be from the other Flying Head Sect strongholds! It looks like Expert Chen’s method is working!" He shouted, "Prepare to engage!" Then he added, "Don’t let any of them get into the temple!"

The commission members roared in response, raising their guns and firing shot after shot. By now, no fewer than a hundred people had gathered on the mountain. The deafening gunshots startled countless birds into flight. Now and then, a Flying Head was shot down, but about a third of them still managed to slip through the gaps and into the old temple.

Gu Mingde looked toward the old temple, his expression grim. They had done all they could. The ones that got inside, it seemed, were up to Chen Chuan to handle.

Inside the old temple, Chen Chuan had just seen the Flying Head reappear. According to his previous method, dealing with it this time shouldn’t have been difficult, but he immediately felt a disturbance as the other Flying Heads swarmed in.

He had a premonition that if the Flying Head Root Source came into contact with that fresh flesh and blood, it might recover. That would be a huge problem.

At this critical moment, a glint flashed in his eyes. He lunged forward, clamped the Flying Head Root Source under his arm, then drew his gun, spun, and fired. BANG! BANG! BANG! The continuous gunfire sent the other Flying Heads scattering in terror. After emptying the magazine, he tossed the pistol aside, rushed forward with the head still tucked under his arm, and swung his blade to meet them!

With every slash of his blade, a Flying Head fell. When the final flash of his sword faded, not a single Flying Head remained in the vast hall.

At that moment, he thought he heard a deep, long sigh in his ear. Immediately after, the weight in his arm lightened. He turned to look and saw a pile of ash fall to the ground, along with a scattering of long, black strands of hair.

Chen Chuan then saw his Second Self wavering like a ripple in water, as if it had suffered a devastating blow. It had become so ethereal that it was on the verge of fading away completely.

At the same time, the Mutated Organization in his body felt an unprecedentedly intense stimulation.

He frowned. ’This level of stimulation...’

’The Breathing Technique isn’t enough anymore.’

He took a deep breath, tore off his overcoat, and began to practice the Orthodox Scattering Hand. But after just a few repetitions, he felt he couldn’t keep up with the growth rate of his Mutated Organization. So, he tried imitating other Strength Postures, as well as the Force Technique forms that He Xiaoxing had specifically taught him.

He tried again and again, time passing as he practiced relentlessly. Finally, realizing it still might not be enough, he took the Snow Monarch Blade in hand. Coordinating it with his breathing, he continuously executed the Heavy Slash Technique. For a time, Sword Force radiated outwards and brilliant light flickered, and the remnants of the Flying Heads on the ground were pulverized by the aftershocks of his power.

He continued like this for the entire night. When the first rays of dawn shone down from above, he finally stopped, sheathing his blade. At that moment, he looked up, and a faint light seemed to flash within his eyes.

He let out a long breath and stood with his blade sheathed. After a moment’s thought, he first gathered the ashes and black hair from the ground, then straightened his clothes, slung the Long Blade over his shoulder, and walked outside.

The people outside had been waiting anxiously. A circle of stubble had grown on Gu Mingde’s chin; they had all been awake the entire night.

Ever since the Flying Heads had entered the old temple yesterday, Chen Chuan hadn’t come out as he usually did. They had no idea what had happened inside. Now that dawn had broken, if he still didn’t appear, they were preparing to risk charging in.

Just then, they heard footsteps. Those who were sitting involuntarily stood up, and one by one, they all turned to look at the entrance of the old temple.

As the footsteps grew clearer, they saw Chen Chuan emerge step by step from the dim light and shadows, one hand on his blade. His figure went from blurry to clear, finally coming to a stop in the morning light.

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