The Monsters All Covet Him - Chapter 3

Lin Yang’s lips thinned into a straight line amidst the shrill, agonizing screams.

The pain brought by the Evil God had remained unchanged for thousands upon thousands of years; before his power, humans were no different from ants. Lin Yang’s face was pale, his gaze ghostly and cold. He had to eliminate this scourge with his own hands.

As the light of dawn gradually brightened, the hoarse wails toward the latter half of the night slowly faded into silence. It wasn’t that the pain had eased, but rather that the vocal cords had failed, and the senses had gone numb from repeated screaming.

The blood-red night passed, and Lin Lin opened the sealed windows. Lin Yang looked out; the giant stones that had seemed massive yesterday had all shrunk to varying degrees. Some small stones had vanished entirely.

“Giant Rock Monsters do not bleed,” Lin Lin’s voice echoed from all directions. “When a Giant Rock Monster loses its last grain of sand, it ceases to exist.”

Lin Yang looked out at the silt-covered ground. “Do you Giant Rock Monsters protect the humans and Yin Jiao of your own free will?”

“At first, the struggle for territory between humans and the Yin Jiao had nothing to do with us. They summoned a God, and the God helped them win. Sometimes the humans won; sometimes the Yin Jiao won.”

“Whoever went to the Temple to pray would obtain victory.”

“Later, the humans and Yin Jiao conspired to imprison the God. But one day, the Temple—which sat upon the earth—suddenly floated into the sky. That is when the nightly nightmares began. The God loathes all living things and wishes to erase all existence.”

“As a result, whether it is the Yin Jiao, the humans, or the Giant Rock Monsters, everyone will die. It is only a matter of time.” Beneath the sky where seawater surged, Lin Lin looked down at this barren, desperate land. Its voice sounded youthful and innocent. “Before I die, I want to protect life as much as I can. If they can live just one more day, then every inch of my disappearance has meaning.”

Lin Yang did not respond. He loathed monsters. After killing the Evil One, the first thing he planned to do was burn all the soul-papers the monsters had given him, and then… then he would likely die as well.

He had lost his friends and family. The only meaning of his thousand-year survival was to slash that Evil One’s face and execute it. At the mere thought of that creature’s face soaked in blood, Lin Yang’s body trembled uncontrollably. He was simply… too excited.

Footsteps approached. Zhuo entered first, accompanied by a man with white hair and black eyes who held a staff taller than himself by half a head. Following closely behind were Qi Xun and Shang Xuan.

Zhuo had been thoroughly infuriated by Lin Yang the day before, and a shadow hung over his face. However, upon seeing Lin Yang’s face again, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curled upward.

“Let’s go. Escort this heretic to the White Tower for imprisonment.”

Lin Yang’s hands were bound. Qi Xun and Shang Xuan flanked him, dragging their heavy fishtails through the mud. The silt here was thick, covering them to the ankles. It was soft and wet beneath, yet they did not sink further—it was as if they were separated from another bottomless sea.

The White Tower gradually appeared in Lin Yang’s vision. It seemed to be constructed from countless polished white stones, its outer walls depicting humans and Yin Jiao. Every face carved into the stone was twisted in the same grotesque, agonizing expression. Just standing a few meters away, one could feel its chilling resentment.

Zhuo regained a bit of his smug posture, his words laced with twisted hatred.

“Within this White Tower reside countless vengeful spirits of the Yin Jiao and humans. They all died because of the Evil God. As a believer of the Evil God, carrying his scent, you will surely have your blood drunk and your bones picked clean by them.”

“But do not worry,” Zhuo continued. “Even if your physical body rots, I can ensure your soul does not dissipate, so that you may experience the pain of bone-eroding heart-piercing agony in the Prison Tower every single moment!”

Lin Yang’s face filled with terror. His legs went weak, and he knelt into the mud, head bowed, his voice trembling with tension. “It is true that I am a believer of the Evil God… but you cannot lock me in there! I know the Evil God’s weakness. I can help you kill him!”

Zhuo hesitated.

Qi Xun immediately interjected, “Do not believe a word this Evil One says! It is clearly looking for an excuse to avoid the White Tower. As a believer, how could it possibly want to kill its own God?!”

“Because I love him too much,” Lin Yang suddenly snapped his head up. His dark pupils watched the suspended Prison Tower with a fanatical, morbid intensity. “The fantasies of the Evil God in my mind have never ceased for a single moment. I want to possess Him, to defile Him… I want that cold, beautiful, corpse-like face to show an expression of pain for me, but I can never achieve it.”

The image of the Prison Tower seemed to fill his entire vision. Lin Yang gave a low laugh. “I pondered for a long time, and I think the best way is… for me to kill Him with my own hands.”

Lin Yang’s voice was cold, his uncontrollable love wrapped in infinite hatred. “Death will make Him mine forever.”

Everyone present shuddered. Lin Yang’s pitch-black eyes were like an abyss one could not look into; a single glance could drag a soul into a dark, lost forest.

Qi Xun gnashed his teeth. “King, we cannot delay. Lock this heretic up immediately! Pull out its tongue and gouge out its eyes!”

“Wait,” Zhuo stopped him. “Tell me, what is the Evil God’s weakness?”

Lin Yang curved his lips. “I have accompanied the Evil God for a thousand years. Peering into His weakness requires a heavy price. Only one person here can endure that price.”

“Who?”

“Him.”

Lin Yang pointed his finger at the man holding the staff. The Grand Liturgist’s black eyes looked at Lin Yang. Lin Yang met his gaze but spoke to Zhuo. “Only he can know.”

Zhuo scrutinized Lin Yang for a moment before saying, “Grand Liturgist, go to him.”

The white-haired, black-eyed man bowed slightly. “As you wish.”

He walked toward Lin Yang. Qi Xun and Shang Xuan, who were restraining Lin Yang, stepped back. At the moment of intersection, Lin Yang broke the chains binding him. A shimmering, snow-white long blade appeared in his hand. In the blink of an eye, the blade was pressed against the Grand Liturgist’s throat.

“Do not struggle. I mean no harm,” Lin Yang whispered. “Take me to the Prison Tower.”

Within three seconds of the incident, humans and Yin Jiao swarmed from all directions, surrounding Lin Yang.

Qi Xun stared deathly at Lin Yang. “Release the Grand Liturgist!”

Lin Yang scanned the surrounding creatures. They were all incredibly tense. He lowered his voice, speaking only loud enough for the Grand Liturgist to hear. “You are the one who summoned the Evil God, aren’t you? That Yin Jiao told me you are the only one in the world who can enter the Prison Tower. Our goals are the same. Take me there; I can kill the Evil God inside.”

Even with a blade at his throat, the Grand Liturgist showed no panic. He stared at the hand holding the knife. “You are not human. You and the Evil God come from the same place.”

Lin Yang’s grip tightened.

“But I believe you,” the Grand Liturgist said amidst the standoff. His gaze swept over the sharp weapons surrounding them. “Your strength is superior to theirs; killing them would be no difficult task. You drew me close to avoid casualties. You have compassion for living beings.”

“I am willing to take you to the Prison Tower. However… the Evil God cannot be killed.”

The Grand Liturgist sighed. He looked toward Zhuo in the center, his eyes clear and his voice raised. “King, he is no heretic, but a savior from another world. Please allow me to take this person to the Prison Tower to find a way to slay the Evil God.”

The flowing water in Zhuo’s hand vanished. “Since you have spoken, it is granted.”

Qi Xun’s face was full of indignation, but he did not utter another word of protest.

The Grand Liturgist nodded peacefully and turned to Lin Yang. “Follow me.”

Lin Yang retracted his blade and followed the Grand Liturgist to an empty patch of silt. Blue light overflowed from the Grand Liturgist’s hands, forming complex, obscure runes upon the mud. The runes enveloped them both.

The ground beneath their feet began to vibrate, then rose from the earth like a mountain, soaring toward the Prison Tower.

The Grand Liturgist’s voice drifted past Lin Yang’s ear in the wind. “My name is Fu Bai.”

“Lin Yang.”

The moment he heard Lin Yang’s name, Fu Bai’s expression shifted for a fraction of a second, but the anomaly vanished instantly.

The flowing silt rose to the same height as the floating island. Thick, dense chains pierced through the island, winding around the Temple like a mass of giant pythons.

As Lin Yang stepped onto the island’s soil, the chains immediately began to clatter like a nest of shivering snakes, only stopping once Fu Bai appeared.

Fu Bai’s face grew pale, and he coughed. “After the Evil God lost control, the humans and Yin Jiao joined forces to forge these chains to imprison Him. If anyone enters without permission, these chains will sound a warning.”

Lin Yang stared at the towering Temple. Before even drawing near, he could already smell the thick, nauseating scent belonging to that Evil One. It was like snow that never melted in a bitter winter; humans trapped in this snow experienced pain and despair, unable to wait for the sun to rise.

Infinite darkness imprisoned all hope of life.

Intense killing intent overflowed uncontrollably. Lin Yang fixed his eyes on the Temple. “I am going in.”

“Very well. It is not convenient for me to enter; I will wait for you outside,” Fu Bai paused. “The face of the Evil God cannot be looked upon, and His voice cannot be heard. You should cover your eyes and plug your ears.”

The chains automatically moved to clear a path. The Temple doors, painted with iridescent pigments, swung open.

Lin Yang refused the blindfold Fu Bai offered. He walked inside, and the doors slammed shut.

A vermilion staircase, nearly a hundred tiers high, stood before him. Beyond the stairs was a towering altar. Eight pillars stood around the altar, with golden chains extending to imprison the Evil God, who sat cross-legged in the center.

The God’s eyes were closed, and his pure white eyelashes rested quietly. He looked much younger and more green than the one in the Ice Crystal Palace.

His physique was somewhere between a boy and a young man. He wore tattered, coarse hemp clothes. The garment was most heavily torn near the heart, leaving no fabric to cover the area. The skin beneath was smooth and pale—white as snow.

But no living being would mistake him for a mere human. The beauty of his face far exceeded what the human mind could endure; infinite malice and divinity were mixed together in a contradictory mess. A single glance would cause one to lose their sanity and fall into madness.

The grooves of the altar were filled with bright red blood, which flowed continuously from the Evil One’s body, dousing the hundred steps.

Lin Yang looked up at the high, bound creature. The blood in his body began to boil. He licked his lips and stepped onto the vermilion stairs. Dressed in his silt-stained sacrificial robes, he approached the Evil One step by step.

His heart briefly came back to life within his chest. The snow-white blade appeared in Lin Yang’s palm. He stepped onto the final tier and thrust the tip of the blade forward.

The Evil One opened his eyes. The ice-white pupils were inches away from the blade’s tip.

Without any hesitation, Lin Yang lunged forward. The blade pierced into the Evil One’s ice-white left pupil. The eyeball burst, and blood splattered across the creature’s cold face. At that same moment, the flowing blood on the altar formed bright red tentacles bristling with sharp thorns, which constricted tightly around Lin Yang’s neck.

Bloody gashes bloomed across Lin Yang’s neck instantly. His throat was torn open.