Chapter 89: Bewitchingly Handsome!

But before he could even throw a punch, his entire body exploded into a mist of blood.

Who knew how much time had passed before his consciousness reassembled, and in that instant, Yu Daoyi collapsed with a heavy thud.

"The fourth time! This is really going to kill me!"

Bracing himself with his arms, he struggled upright, inhaling the peach-blossom-scented breeze. Once again, Yu Daoyi forced himself up, but after four resets, there was no resetting the raging anger and resentment in his heart.

No sooner had he stood than he activated the first transformation of the Ancient Demon’s Nine Changes. Crimson light began to spread over his body, and blood seeped from the corners of his bloodshot eyes. His once delicate face now twisted with a feral grimace, lips pulling into a crooked smile as he let out a low laugh.

“You really think highly of yourself. Keep this up and you’ll die for sure.” A distant, ethereal voice echoed in his ears, indistinct yet instantly comprehensible to Yu Daoyi.

“I really thought you’d stopped bothering with me,” Yu Daoyi muttered, grinning crookedly up at the massive peach tree before him.

“If you weren’t so intent on courting death like a fool, I’d happily remain a bystander.” The voice was spectral, seeming to come from within his body, yet also from every direction.

“A fool? I really am a fool! Since you’ve shown up, let’s make this clear: whether you want to help or not, you have no choice!” Yu Daoyi shouted recklessly, voice hoarse and wild.

“Are you threatening me? Or do you truly think yourself my master?” The voice turned cold and sharp.

“You’re only a quarter of a spirit artifact! And you were struck by lightning! What’s with the attitude? Fine, just watch me die and see yourself trapped in this illusion forever!”

At the same time, in the same place, the boy in the tree scratched his head as he watched Yu Daoyi muttering to himself below. Did he just run into a lunatic? But this lunatic was awfully fierce!

“Hey! What’s wrong with you? There’s a healer in the village—do you need help?” Xiao Qian called down, noticing the blood flowing from the madman below.

“My name is not ‘hey’! I have a name! It’s Yu Daoyi!” Unable to hear the voice of the tattered book within his mind, Yu Daoyi chose to stand once more.

Ignoring the ruined book in his brow, and caring little whether Xiao Qian remained in the tree, Yu Daoyi—under a blood-drenched daylight that seemed tainted by night—roared and hurled a punch forward.

But the result was the same as before: this was not the body he had honed for years in the real world. Frail and battered, it could barely withstand the first transformation of the Ancient Demon, let alone the power of the Ninefold Inferno. His fist never landed; his body dissolved into a mist of blood, and his consciousness slipped once more into darkness.

White clouds drifted in the blue sky; the wind stirred the grass, revealing cattle and sheep.

Panting, Yu Daoyi found himself unable to move, forced to lie on the ground as pain ripped through every inch of his body. Cold sweat drenched him, and his mind began to scatter, as if once he closed his eyes, he would never open them again.

“The fifth time—still alive…” Yu Daoyi murmured weakly, each word costing him tremendous effort.

“Still haven’t had enough?” The voice returned.

“I told you… either I die, or the person behind this game shows himself!” Yu Daoyi replied, voice frail but resolute.

“Do you really believe Bai Li Mo will appear?” The voice was tinged with scorn.

“So you know about the outside world. But do you really think I’m waiting for Bai Li Mo?” Yu Daoyi raised a brow and opened his eyes, unbothered.

“You’re not waiting for him?” Now the voice held a note of doubt.

“Bai Li Mo is long dead. Even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t step forward for a nobody like me!” Yu Daoyi laughed at himself.

“Then what are you waiting for?” the voice pressed.

“Lend me your power, and I’ll show you! I don’t believe a spirit artifact like you doesn’t have some power of your own!” Yu Daoyi coughed, speaking in gasps.

“And why should I? I never acknowledged you as my master, nor do I owe you anything!” The voice grew arrogant and contemptuous again.

“You really do have the temperament of a child. Listen—I’m not negotiating. I’m commanding you!” Yu Daoyi’s reply was sharp with menace.

“You chose me for a reason! Otherwise, you wouldn’t have lingered with my father for so many years, doing nothing—only to pick me in the end!

“And now, I am your only choice. If I die, you’ll be trapped in this illusion forever. No one else will come!

“You must have your own purpose. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have shown me those scenes, wouldn’t have revealed yourself to me!”

Frustration seethed within him, his impatience and violence boiling over. Perhaps he simply didn’t want to waste any more time in this place, and so Yu Daoyi’s voice turned cold and resolute.

“So?” the voice prompted.

“So, you will help me!” Gone was the delicate youth; the bloodshot eyes in his ferocious face glowed with certainty, brooking no denial.

The Yu Daoyi who had once been carefree and childish now seemed utterly transformed—arrogant, reckless, almost mad.

“Sometimes I truly wonder if I chose the wrong person.” The voice lapsed into a long silence before returning, now tinged with loneliness. “Yet now, looking at you, you remind me of him—especially your eyes.”

“Heh. I’ve no interest in being anyone’s substitute.” Yu Daoyi froze, then recalled the demonic man from his dream, and grinned, unconcerned.

“Before, I was simply trying my luck. Now, I’ve changed my mind. Perhaps you can become the next him.”

“The next him? Just watch—I’ll surpass whoever you’re referring to! I’ll prove your choice was never in doubt!” Yu Daoyi suddenly grew wild and boastful, then laughed aloud with abandon.

“We shall see. This is the power you will one day command. I look forward to your growth!” The voice, as if reaching a decision, refused no longer.

“It won’t be long!” Yu Daoyi murmured as he gazed at the peach tree before him, which he now found strangely hateful.

“Such grand words for a mere novice, but I admire your arrogance! How brazen!”

“Remember! The true killing move of the Ancient Demon’s First Transformation is the Ninefold Inferno! That is its ultimate power!

“Forget everything else! Do what you will! I have no idea what you plan to do. Now—prove yourself to me!”

It was as if the voice had resolved itself completely. The crimson, tattered book within Yu Daoyi’s brow flipped wildly, flooding his mind’s eye with crimson light that stained the entire sea of consciousness red.

“Then, watch closely!”

Waves of surging power flowed endlessly from within him. The ferocity in his features gradually faded, replaced once more by his original delicate appearance—but the transformation did not stop there. Sharper lines softened, his face becoming ethereal and striking, almost otherworldly, while the bloodshot in his eyes vanished, leaving not black but two true blood-red irises, like twin crimson moons in the night.

A rich crimson light radiated from his body. The energy coursing through him was not spiritual power, but pure demonic force, saturating every vein and meridian. Strangely, his body showed not a hint of collapse; instead, it seemed as if this power held him together, binding his form tightly.

The surrounding wind fell utterly still, yet his long hair lifted and billowed in the air. In an instant, it turned blood-red, each strand seeming soaked in fresh blood. His once robust frame now appeared lean and graceful, every line refined; his newly transformed face was breathtakingly handsome, eerily alluring.

Feeling the changes within, Yu Daoyi was suddenly seized by the urge to grasp the heavens in his palm and crush them—those heavens that blocked his path.

Eyes gleaming like rubies, lips as graceful as cherry blossoms, skin as flawless as white porcelain—standing beneath the cherry tree, he gazed calmly at the peach tree, a vision of beauty so surreal it seemed as though a peerless immortal had stepped from a dream. His long, blood-red hair only heightened his wicked charm.

Now, with his demonic, striking beauty, Yu Daoyi embodied every word for grace and elegance, surpassing them all. The delicate youth he once was had vanished utterly; even those closest to him would not recognize him now.

At this moment, Yu Daoyi was enough to make every woman in the world lose her heart, to make them swoon, to make them scream in adoration.