The Monsters All Covet Him - Chapter 7

A candle lamp was embedded in the stone wall. Lin’s phantom cast no shadow as a pitch-black tentacle, having discovered Lin Yang, silently coiled around his slender ankle.

Lin’s ice-white pupils flicked toward it, and the tentacle immediately retreated in shame.

Lin loathed everything in this world and harbored absolute malice toward it. Therefore, even if it were a “filthy thing” he disliked, he would never allow it to approach any living being here—let alone touch their skin.

A crimson feather-arrow appeared in Lin’s palm. He knew that Lin Yang suffered far more than ordinary creatures; this arrow was stained with his own heart’s blood, and the heart’s blood of an Evil God was no benevolent substance.

The most wicked and poisonous things in the world were gathered right here.

On the bed, Lin Yang’s sleeping posture was far from peaceful. His body was curled tightly, his long brows furrowed. His porcelain-white face bore a twisted expression of agony, and his fingers almost clawed through his clothes, as if he were currently enduring the fires of purgatory.

It was a sharp contrast to the smiling, cheerful mask he wore when awake.

This is none of my concern, Lin thought. The creatures of this world were all two-faced like this: offering pious prayers while kneeling, only to turn around and whisper vicious curses. Even a God who had helped them countless times would become a life-taking vengeful ghost the day they could no longer control him.

Then, let them all die. Starting with the one who is hardest to kill.

Lin’s eyes were cold as he thrust the feather-arrow toward Lin Yang’s heart. The intense pain, overlapping with the agony in his dreams, caused Lin Yang to snap his eyes open. His body moved faster than his brain, seizing Lin’s wrist.

Lin pressed down with force, and the arrow that had already pierced Lin Yang’s skin sank deeper into his flesh. The poisonous, wicked blood of the Evil God flowed directly into Lin Yang’s heart.

In an instant, Lin Yang’s heart began to beat at an uncontrollable frequency. His breathing grew rapid, and the blood flowing through his veins felt like scorching lava.

Flushes of pink spread across his fair skin. Sweat beaded on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, shimmering like spilled highlighter powder across his face.

Before his eyes was Lin’s face. It looked as though he hadn’t been poisoned by the blood, but rather as if he had fallen for the God, and his heart could no longer help but burst for the deity.

In a single moment, the extreme hatred from his dreams was dragged by his body into a concentration of lethal adoration. Lin Yang felt dizzy in the inversion of one moment in heaven and the next in hell.

He leaned weakly against the bed, nonchalantly wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand. He tilted his head, laboriously propping up half his body, his black, silky hair cascading over his thin back.

Lin Yang’s blood-stained left hand reached for Lin’s white robe, stroking upward until it rested at Lin’s neck. His dark eyes held a playful, flirtatious smile. “Lin, entering my quarters in the middle of the night… have you come to find someone to warm your bed?”

Lin frowned. He loathed Lin Yang’s touch and moved to step back, but Lin Yang gripped the back of his neck. Lin Yang smiled pleasantly and didn’t seem to be using much strength, yet the avatar actually found itself unable to retreat a single step.

Sharp killing intent filled Lin’s ice-white eyes. “I want you dead.”

Every inch of Lin Yang’s body was aching because of the Evil God’s blood, and the feather-arrow was still lodged near his heart, yet his face was written with pure pleasure.

He was a masochist. Monsters had a weak perception of pain; only through pain could Lin Yang feel that he was still human, and only then could he remember his frantic, paranoid hatred.

Lin Yang laughed. The being standing before him was not Lin’s true body; its strength was not even a tenth of the original’s.

He pushed his luck, leaning closer to that seemingly inviolable face of ice and snow. Lin Yang stroked Lin’s face, deliberately smearing his own fresh, red blood across it.

Lin Yang curved his lips and praised, “So beautiful.”

Watching this face become stained and disheveled—like a piece of fine porcelain developing cracks—brought a supreme sense of pleasure to Lin Yang’s throbbing heart.

He looked down at the arrow still piercing his chest. He released Lin, ignoring the look that said Lin wanted to hack him to pieces. He reached out and unfastened his shimmering gauze robe. The thin fabric fell halfway, hanging from his arms and piling in layers around his waist.

The beauty’s dark hair cascaded down, his waist half-exposed, the gauze shielding everything below from view.

Lin Yang’s prominent collarbone and fair chest were completely exposed to Lin’s gaze. The chest, pierced by the feather-arrow, looked like a blooming flower of death.

Lin Yang’s slender fingers pulled the arrow out. Blood sprayed, but he didn’t even blink. “You want my heart? Tell me, and I’ll just gouge it out for you.”

Lin wanted to say that wasn’t it, but Lin Yang’s movements were incredibly fast. A freezing blade appeared in his hand, and he cleanly sliced open the skin, severed all the vascular connections, and rawly pulled out the heart. The entire process took less than ten seconds.

The heart was still beating in Lin Yang’s palm. He smiled brightly. “For you. Consider it a token of love we have exchanged.”

Lin Yang’s smile was radiant, and his eyes seemed to burn like a black sun.

Lin looked at the beating heart in his palm and crushed it into a bloody mess. “I do not need a lover. I need you to die.”

As he spoke, Lin lunged at Lin Yang again. Lin Yang clicked his tongue in annoyance. Pure white chains overflowed from his palm, blooming in all directions like swimming snakes to entwine Lin’s body.

Lin fell onto the bed. Lin Yang looked down at him, patting Lin’s face in a humiliating gesture. “Dare to use an avatar to kill me? Aren’t you being a bit too arrogant? I’ve already told you—we are lovers. To keep me by your side forever, you granted me the blessing of immortality. You cannot kill me. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you see if I carry your scent?”

Lin Yang pulled open his collar and thrust his neck toward Lin’s nose.

The scent of snow falling on a pine forest overwhelmed him. Lin Yang’s fair, tender neck swayed before Lin’s eyes. He turned his head away, his words freezing. “Get out.”

Even when being hunted by humans and the Yin Jiao, Lin had never felt as flustered as he did at this moment. He raised his hand and snapped his own neck. With a crack, the avatar declared its death, and Lin’s consciousness returned to the Temple atop the Prison Tower.

Sitting amidst the surging blood-water, Lin’s newly grown heart still failed to find peace. Whether his eyes were open or closed, his mind was filled with the image of Lin Yang smiling as he gouged out his heart to hand it over.

He had never seen such a wicked yet blazing person—like a black sun hanging in the sky of an apocalypse, burning himself while scorching everyone who gazed upon him.

The chains binding Lin clattered. He suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood—the backlash of leaving the Temple.

Lin looked up coldly. A scarlet-gold magic circle appeared on the dome of the Temple, its light enveloping him. This circle was originally a dazzling pure gold, but as the years passed, the golden luster had grown faint, replaced by a scarlet red that shouldn’t exist. That ominous red was becoming more and more dominant.

On the day the circle could no longer suppress him, every living creature in this world would die. As for the existence named Lin Yang…

The moment he thought of that name, the frequency of Lin’s heartbeat began to malfunction. His breathing became labored. Would I truly fall in love with a human and grant him immortality as a blessing?

Lin’s lips curled in a mocking sneer. Immortal life isn’t a blessing; it’s a curse, isn’t it?

The gaze of that lying human was clearly filled with killing intent. They both harbored the desire to kill the other.

The sensation in his heart grew stranger and stranger. Lin lay on the altar as the rising blood-water submerged him. He sank into the ocean of blood, his legs transforming into a fish tail and white wings sprouting.

Lin prepared to sleep. He closed his eyes, but after half an hour, more and more black tentacles overflowed from his body, looking restless and agitated.

Lin’s eyes snapped open. That despicable human, Lin Yang, had invaded his consciousness. He saw Lin Yang with his clothes half-off, his smile seductive, shamelessly twisting his waist on the bed and beckoning him to come over.

Lin had never seen such a shameless human!

He scanned the Temple, but detected no trace of Lin Yang’s presence.

Unfortunately, those images had taken root in his mind, and black desires grew more numerous. Lin’s magnificent fish tail lashed out as he expressionlessly knocked himself unconscious.