The shrill scream of the mirror spirit was like an extremely sharp dagger, instantly piercing the dead silence of this strange peach forest illusion. This scream was so sharp that it seemed to cut through the air, carrying endless resentment and unwillingness, stirring back and forth in this space, echoing for a long time, and finally dissipating suddenly like shattered glass. And Lin Feng's body, like a kite with a broken string and out of control, fell heavily from mid-air into the bloody and muddy swamp without support. The hideous wound on his chest was like the mouth of a terrifying giant beast, with blood bubbles constantly bubbling out, and the bright red blood quickly soaked the surrounding mud red, and the swamp that exuded a foul smell was stained with a shocking dark red. The bloodstained short knife was inserted diagonally at his side, the blade flashing coldly, just like the cold stars twinkling in the night sky, reflecting his gray and white pupils - these eyes were the horrible traces left by the evil spirits during the fierce battle with the mirror spirit, as if telling the fierceness and cruelty of this battle. The broken pieces of the Qingming mirror, like stars, surrounded him, as if suspended in the vast void. Each piece of the fragment was flowing with a dark blue light, which was mysterious and deep, as if silently waiting for the fate to call them, as if in this darkness, they were the only existence that adhered to a certain mysterious mission.
"With blood as the guide, with soul as the covenant." Xuan Zhenzi's old and weak voice seemed to have passed through layers of space and came from outside the illusion. It was so weak that it seemed like a candle in the wind that could be extinguished at any time. Every tremor of the voice made people feel distressed, as if it would disappear completely in the next moment. The old Taoist priest was half-kneeling in the center of the Bagua array. The Bagua array emitted a faint but mysterious light, and seemed to be trembling slightly due to the huge force it was bearing. The talisman paper umbrella in his hand was disintegrating piece by piece, like a flower that bloomed to the extreme and then began to wither, turning into golden paper butterflies, light but with a hint of tragic grandeur, flying towards Lin Feng. The blood from his seven orifices had already condensed into scabs, leaving dark marks on his haggard face, as if time had engraved the mark of this ordeal on his face in the cruelest way. However, even so, he still held on, using up all his last strength to make the last hand seal with difficulty. Every movement seemed so strenuous, as if he was fighting against the power of the whole world. He used all his strength and shouted loudly: "Remember, the mirror has no heart, the one holding the mirror is the mirror soul!" Although this voice was weak, it seemed to have a power that penetrated the soul and went straight into Lin Feng's heart, allowing him to find a trace of clarity and determination in this chaos and pain.
Lin Feng stretched out his hand tremblingly, and his hand trembled slightly due to pain and weakness, like a leaf drifting in the wind. The flesh and blood on his palm began to peel off strangely, as if being pulled by an invisible force from the abyss of hell, turning into strands of red silk threads, like winding blood snakes, slowly winding around the mirror fragments. This peeling process brought a piercing pain, and countless golden spots exploded in front of his eyes in an instant. Those spots flickered and jumped, as if he was in a bright starry sky, but under this "starry sky", there was endless pain and torture. However, he clenched his teeth, and his face, which was originally distorted by pain, now showed a resolute expression, and his eyes stared at the fragments - a thousand years ago, he used this mirror to seal the dragon spirit; now, he had to use his own flesh and blood to recast it. In his eyes, there was both regret for past mistakes and determination for future redemption, as if all his hopes and the road to redemption were carried on this small mirror fragment. As the flesh and blood continued to blend in, silver liquid began to seep out of the cracks on the mirror, just like the flowing cold moonlight, the light was soft but contained a kind of tenacious power, gently but firmly bonding the broken mirror. Every drop of silver liquid flowing seemed to carry the weight of time, repairing this mirror that carried countless stories and power, and also repairing the broken faith deep in Lin Feng's heart.
"Hahaha, you dare to control me?" The remnant soul of the mirror spirit, like a poisonous snake hiding in the depths of darkness, suddenly jumped out from a piece of debris, and the speed was so fast that people were caught off guard. In an instant, it turned into thousands of black tentacles, like extremely sharp spears, with a deadly breath, piercing Lin Feng's heart. Wherever the tentacles passed, the air seemed to be torn apart, making a "hissing" sound, as if wailing for the rampage of this evil force. But now is different from the past. Lin Feng's eyes are firm, like a torch that never goes out in the cold night. He does not retreat, and suddenly stretches out his hand, grabbing the nearest tentacle with a resolute attitude. In an instant, the original power of the Qingming Mirror suddenly surged out of his body. The power was surging, like a flood that broke through the dam, rushing towards the remnant soul of the mirror spirit with overwhelming force. Under the impact of this powerful force, the tentacles made a "sizzling" burning sound, as if they were roasted by a raging fire, and wisps of black smoke instantly emerged, as if in the face of this powerful force of justice, their evil nature was being burned away bit by bit. The residual soul of the mirror spirit let out a final scream, full of unwillingness and resentment, as if to vent all the resentment in the world at this moment: "You will regret it! The price of the phaseless mirror." Before he finished speaking, Lin Feng exerted force and crushed it alive, turning it into nothingness. At this moment, Lin Feng felt that a huge rock in his heart fell to the ground with a bang, as if he had broken free from some long-standing shackles. However, he also knew that this was just the beginning, and greater challenges were waiting for him ahead.
When the last lens was precisely placed, the phaseless mirror instantly burst into a dazzling white light. The light was so strong that it was like a new sun, releasing all its power without reservation, illuminating the entire dark illusion. This light was so dazzling that this space, which had been shrouded in darkness for a long time, had nowhere to hide. Lin Feng only felt a tearing pain in his left eye, as if thousands of steel needles were piercing at the same time. The pain instantly spread throughout his body, causing his body to tremble involuntarily. The world in front of him was instantly shrouded in a thick white mist, as if the whole world was in chaos at this moment. When he opened his eyes again with difficulty, he saw that the mirror in his hand had completely changed: on the mirror surface, the ink-like mist slowly flowed, like a dream, as if telling an ancient and mysterious story, and every trace of flow contained endless mysteries. On the edge, there are lifelike, intertwined dragon patterns carved. Those dragon patterns are like living things, and they seem to be ready to take off at any time in the dim light. In each pattern, there is a light golden light, as if flowing with the mysterious power accumulated over the years. The light is warm and soft, but with a kind of awe-inspiring majesty. What's even more strange is that when he casts his eyes on the petrified villagers beside him, he can actually penetrate their bodies and see a group of twisted black mists - that is the obsession left in their hearts after being bewitched by the mirror spirit. The black mist keeps rolling and surging, as if the soul trapped in the darkness is struggling and roaring in pain, trying to break free from this endless bondage and regain freedom.
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"This mirror can illuminate the origin of all things, but every time you use it, it will consume your spiritual consciousness." Xuan Zhenzi's voice was so weak that it was almost inaudible at this moment, as if it was a wisp of light smoke coming from the distant horizon, which would dissipate in the wind at any time. The body of the old Taoist priest, like the fine sand in an hourglass, began to slowly disintegrate, and every grain of sand that fell seemed to tell the disappearance of a life. The talisman paper umbrella that had accompanied him for many years also completely turned into ashes and drifted away in the breeze, just like a brilliant but tragic legend, which came to an end at this moment. "The true body of the Nine Infants. is hidden in a huge bronze coffin in the ancient river channel of the Yellow River, and the coffin is tied with dragon tendons." Before he finished speaking, his body turned into countless golden light spots, like stars, and merged into the phaseless mirror. At that moment, Lin Feng seemed to feel a powerful force surging into his body. It was Xuan Zhenzi's last gift, and it was also his earnest expectation for Lin Feng, hoping that he could rely on this power to overcome the upcoming huge crisis.
Lin Feng knelt in the peach forest, which was in a mess. He held the still hot Wuxiang Mirror carefully in his hands, as if he was holding the most precious and fragile treasure in the world. Xuan Zhenzi's last instructions kept echoing in his ears. The voice echoed in his heart like a huge bell, making him dare not slack off. He gently raised his hand and touched his left eye, which had completely lost its color. The gray pupil reflected the gradually dissipating illusion. In the distance, the blood color of the peach forest was slowly fading. The peach blossoms that were once stained red by blood had gradually regained some vitality, as if telling that this ordeal was about to pass. The petrified villagers and resentful spirits were also turned into dust and blown away by the wind under the caress of the morning light. Their departure seemed to have taken away some of the resentment and pain on this land. However, Lin Feng knew in his heart that the real severe challenge had just begun. He looked at the mirror in his hand, feeling both fear of the unknown and firm belief in the future. He knew that he was shouldering the responsibility of saving Bian Jing, saving Lin Wanqiu, and even saving the entire world.
When he put away the Wuxiang Mirror and was about to turn around and leave, the ground beneath his feet shook violently without any warning, as if an ancient beast that had been sleeping for a long time and had just awakened was roaring angrily. The cracks spread rapidly like a spider web, and the speed was so fast that it was hard to keep up with it. In an instant, it covered the entire ground. In the cracks, the dark red soil under the ground was exposed. The color seemed to be the earth bleeding, emitting a strong fishy and sweet smell that was nauseating. There was a repressive and tense atmosphere in the air, as if the whole world was holding its breath at this moment. Lin Feng quickly grasped the hilt of the sword, which trembled slightly in his hand, but it also revealed a resolute power. He looked alert, like a keen cheetah, watching the movements around him. In the cracks, a corner of a bronze coffin slowly rose. The coffin was wrapped with rusty dragon-shaped chains. After years of baptism, the chains were covered with mottled rust marks, but each section of the chain was engraved with ancient and mysterious magic spells. Those runes seemed to be telling a long-forgotten history, recording the glory and suffering of the past. Black liquid was constantly oozing out of the surface of the coffin. The liquid was thick and sticky, and it exuded a suffocating stench. On the ground, the black liquid gathered together and gradually formed the phantom of the Nine Infants. The phantom was huge and ferocious, and it emitted a deafening roar, as if it wanted to break through all constraints and drag the whole world into an endless dark abyss.
"So you're waiting for me here." Lin Feng whispered to himself, his voice was low and firm, as if he was declaring his determination to the evil in front of him. He slowly raised the Wuxiang Mirror, his arm trembling slightly, but full of strength. In an instant, countless scenes suddenly emerged in the mirror: a thousand years ago, the Yellow River burst its banks, and the flood raged like a beast, submerging countless villages and fields, and the people were displaced and crying; Lin Wanqiu was locked on the altar, her eyes full of despair and helplessness, her figure seemed so small and fragile in the darkness; and the people of Bianjing were ruthlessly devoured by the Nine Infants, screaming and corpses everywhere. Those scenes pierced Lin Feng's heart like a sharp blade. The dragon pattern on the mirror body began to heat up, as if it was echoing the evil power in the coffin. Every pattern was flashing with light, as if telling the fierceness and cruelty of this battle between good and evil. He took a deep breath, his heart was extremely determined, knowing that he had to destroy the bronze coffin before Jiuying fully woke up - even if it meant losing his sight forever. There was no retreat or hesitation in his eyes, only a determination to face death. For everything he protected in his heart, he was willing to give up everything, even his own life and light.
The light of the phaseless mirror and the darkness gushing out from the ground collided fiercely above the ruins, and the light intertwined, as if it was an epic duel between light and darkness. The light was sometimes dazzling and sometimes dim, as if a life-and-death contest was going on. Lin Feng's figure, in the flickering light and shadow, seemed so small, like a speck of dust in the vast universe, but extremely firm, like a towering mountain that stood firm. He held the weapon tightly in his hand and walked steadily towards the bottomless crack step by step. With every step he took, the white mist in his left eye became thicker and thicker, and his vision became more and more blurred, as if the whole world was gradually moving away from him. But his eyes became clearer and clearer, because he finally realized that the real power did not come from the magic weapon, but from the firm determination to protect it from the bottom of his heart - even if the road ahead was an endless abyss of no return, for Bianjing and Lin Wanqiu, he was willing to fight with his last bit of strength and never retreat.
