The Monsters All Covet Him - Chapter 9

Lin Yang’s expression grew serious. “I must trouble the Grand Ritualist to send me back to the Prison Tower once more. I shall be living within the temple for the foreseeable future to properly cultivate my relationship with the Evil God.”

Lin Yang had already packed his bags. “By the way, if disaster descends tonight, summon the people tomorrow to gather the feathered arrows and weave them into a net. These arrows are a part of the Evil God; they cannot be corroded by the blood-water, and perhaps they can withstand a portion of the Evil God’s attacks.”

Fu Bai gave a bitter smile. “I only have the right to step into the temple once a month. Once that right is used, the silt is no longer under my control. As for what you mentioned regarding the gathering of feathered arrows… we once attempted to do so, but those humans and Silver Merfolk who touched them all suffered a burst of the body and died a tragic death.”

Fu Bai sighed, his expression grave. “The Evil God is a taboo existence that must not be touched. In all these years, you are the only one who has safely left the temple.”

“You have a deal with the Evil God, don’t you?”

Hearing Lin Yang ask this, Fu Bai froze for an instant. “Yes.”

Lin Yang nodded. Fu Bai did not disclose the nature of the deal, and Lin Yang did not press further. His eyes flickered. “Is there another way to reach the Prison Tower?”

“There is, but it is fraught with danger. Most often, one dies halfway before ever reaching the tower.”

Lin Yang raised an eyebrow.

Half an hour later, Lin Yang, dressed in shimmering gauze and carrying a shimmering little bundle, stood before a chain approximately as thick as ten children holding hands.

The aura emitted by this chain was scorching, nailed deep into the silt grounds, while its top extended all the way to the floating Prison Tower in the sky. The method Fu Bai spoke of was to climb up these chains that were rooted in the ground.

The Evil God loathed the creatures of this world, which is why the temple was suspended in the air. Over the past century, countless beings had tried to climb the clouds via these chains to slay the Evil God; without exception, they all met tragic ends. To reach the tower through the chains, one had to endure not only the scorching aura of the chains themselves but also the murderous attacks born of the Evil God’s intense rage.

Lin Yang’s slender fingers gripped the chain. There was no candidate more suitable than him; this path felt as though it were tailor-made for him. 00 perched on Lin Yang’s shoulder, its underdeveloped wings fluttering in an attempt to cool him down.

In the temple, Lin, who had knocked himself unconscious earlier, woke up and continued to submerge himself in the water. Its magnificent white fishtail swayed irritably and unconsciously in the blood-water. Facing downward, its ice-white pupils were vacant, and gurgling bubbles escaped from its bloodless lips.

Suddenly, Lin sensed a disturbance in the restriction. A century had passed, yet there were still creatures delusional enough to try and reach the temple via the chains.

Lin’s vacant eyes suddenly gained vitality, shrouded in sharp killing intent. It flipped over and rose from the blood-water, its ice-white face emerging from the crimson surface. The giant wings on its back vanished, and in an instant, the fishtail transformed into a pair of smooth, slender human legs.

The surging blood-water flowed toward the hundred-level steps as Lin stepped barefoot onto the sacrificial altar. It closed its eyes, and a giant ice-white eye suddenly opened at the base of the floating island.

Upon seeing Lin Yang’s face on the chain, the eye trembled for a moment before quickly closing and vanishing.

Inside the temple, a crack appeared in Lin’s indifferent expression. It did not want to see that face right now—not even for a second! It had never seen such a troublesome monster: unkillable, undriveable, like a bothersome dodder flower tightly entwined around its host’s body, determined to squeeze out every ounce of nourishment.

Lin submerged itself in the blood-water again, its tail slapping the sacrificial altar with a thwack-thwack sound. This time, it sank to the very bottom, expressionlessly blowing bubbles.

However, after only three seconds, Lin surfaced once more, still expressionless. Today, it would never allow this existence called Lin Yang to set foot in the temple!

Lin Yang had climbed to a third of the chain’s height when countless ice spikes suddenly lunged at him.

Lin Yang released the chain with one hand to dodge. Simultaneously, a fire shield manifested from his soul-essence appeared in his hand, evaporating all the incoming spikes. Although Lin Yang’s soul-essence would still suffer damage from attacks, its endurance far exceeded that of his physical body. If an ice spike pierced his flesh, he would bleed immediately; but falling upon this fire shield, his soul-essence felt not even a hint of injury.

The ice spikes vanished, replaced by dense clusters of silver-white snakes on the chain. They opened their mouths, fangs snapping at Lin Yang.

Lin Yang loathed cold-blooded, crawling creatures most of all. The shield transformed into a sword; he swung it with incredible speed, cleanly and efficiently bisecting the snakes. Pungent, sweet blood-water drenched him, and the flesh touched by the liquid began to fester.

Lin Yang didn’t even blink as he gouged out all the affected flesh; new flesh quickly grew to cover the white bone.

How exhilarating, Lin Yang thought. He had been locked in a cage for a thousand years; it had been a long time since he had exercised his muscles like this.

Suddenly, a bloody, dripping heart fell at Lin Yang’s feet, accompanied by Lin’s voice: “I’ve dug out the heart for you. Now crawl back to the ground.”

Lin Yang picked up the heart. It was warm, like a terrace graced by the sun, suitable for a cat to roll around on. Lin Yang looked up at the ice-white eye appearing at the base of the island. “Do you think I climbed these chains to kill you?”

The giant ice-white eye held no emotion. “Every being that comes to this temple, regardless of species or gender, has only one goal: to kill me.”

Lin’s tone was cold, laced with a hint of irritability. “You cannot kill me. Take the heart as your trophy for this trip. Now, you should return to the ground.”

Translated: Get lost quickly, don’t offend my eyes.

Lin Yang tucked the heart that Lin had dug out with its own hands into his small bundle and smiled. “Who said I came to kill you? Didn’t I say it before? I am your lover. Naturally, I’ve come to find you to talk about love.”

Sitting in the temple, Lin felt, for the first time, so angry that its heart actually pained it.

Lin’s face twisted as it spoke: “You say you are the lover I could never obtain… I no longer wish to obtain you. I remember none of those things. Nothing between us counts. Please go back.”

“That won’t do,” Lin Yang said, continuing his climb. “We already have a child between us. Surely the Great Evil God wouldn’t be one to abandon his partner and child?”

Lin Yang thrust the shivering 00 right in front of that eye.

To be frank, 00’s appearance shared not even a hint of resemblance to either Lin Yang or Lin. It was truly just a pet kept by the Evil God. The only thing they could claim a connection with were the wings; even the tails were different—one was a snake tail, the other a fishtail.

Lin’s vision went dark. It grew more and more irritable, finally choosing to simply seal off its five senses. Unable to hear, see, or smell, it would treat Lin Yang as if he were thin air.

The attacks on the chain ceased, and even the ice-white eye at the bottom of the floating tower vanished. Lin Yang reached the temple without further hindrance. The chains surrounding the exterior automatically made way for him. Lin Yang pushed the door open and entered; the temple doors closed behind him.

Lin was nowhere to be seen on the sacrificial altar. Golden chains from the eight pillars extended downward. Lin Yang walked to the top of the steps and realized that the grooved disc at the center of the altar could sink downward. Below was a depth of approximately dozens of meters, filled entirely with pungent, crimson blood-water.

Strangely, although the blood-water should have been murky, Lin Yang could clearly see Lin through the crimson liquid, looking as though it were deep in slumber. Pure white wings were spread out like those of a celestial being, and the magnificent fishtail hung down, its trailing end swaying in the water like flowing gauze.

Its eyes were closed, snow-like lashes resting low, and long white hair drifted in the blood-water. The tattered sackcloth Lin had been wearing was gone; the human upper body connected to the fishtail showed broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

This was the first time Lin Yang had seen this evil creature without clothing. It actually had muscles—not exaggerated, but the kind of well-proportioned strength Lin Yang liked. The lines were smooth and beautiful, especially the serratus muscles at the waist and abdomen, which made the waist look lean yet more powerful.

Lin Yang’s gaze couldn’t help but shift downward. 00 had shared some “knowledge” with him last night, saying that the most powerful part of a merman was the waist and legs, and there seemed to be two…

On what grounds does he get one more than me? Lin Yang’s dark eyes flickered gloomily. Might as well cut it off.

However, the evil creature lying quietly in the blood-water with closed eyes was extremely pleasing to the eye, like a god frozen at the bottom of the sea. If it could be made into a specimen and displayed at an art exhibition, Lin Yang thought he could likely make a fortune from it.

But Lin Yang did not like being ignored by this evil creature. He hadn’t climbed this Prison Tower just to watch it sleep.

Lin Yang called out a few times, but the creature underwater didn’t even twitch an eyelid, acting as if it couldn’t hear a thing. Lin Yang left 00 on the steps and jumped in himself. He could not breathe underwater, but because of the creature’s curse, he couldn’t die in the water either.

Lin Yang swam toward Lin. He hovered in front of its face and patted its cheek lightly. “I’ve come to talk about love with you. Pay attention to me.”

Lin gave no reaction.

Lin Yang increased the force in his hand. Lin remained like a specimen of art, completely unresponsive. Lin Yang frowned. Surely it won’t be some disgusting plot point where it requires a “True Love’s Kiss” to wake up?

He delivered several slaps in a row, yet failed to wake it; instead, his own palm turned red first. It was as if even if he kicked the creature’s severed head around like a ball right now, it wouldn’t open its eyes to look at him.

Lin Yang did not like this form of retaliation. It was utterly boring—like a one-man show. He wanted to see the creature’s pained expression, its twisted features, and its crumbling body.

Lin Yang straddled Lin, his hands gripping its neck. “Wake up this instant! You are not allowed to ignore me!”

Lin Yang shook the creature back and forth, his body rubbing against its waist and abdomen.

Unknowingly, black things began to emerge from Lin’s body. They were a part of Lin, yet possessed a certain consciousness of their own. Only when Lin forcibly connected with them could it share their perceptions.

These overflowing, restless black masses lurked at Lin’s back. They peered with full greed at the youth rocking atop Lin’s body. The youth’s gauze clothing was soaked through; his gorgeous appearance was as beautiful as a scorpion’s tail. In the sweet blood-water, his skin emitted an enchanting fragrance.

He looks so delicious.

I want to bind the youth’s hands and feet, block his mouth, and lick dry the tears flowing from those dark eyes.

The restless black masses grew more numerous, carefully lurking behind Lin, almost filling the five-meter human-shaped space below.