MTLNOVEL Chapter 626: delusional little demon
Xiang Yu stood rooted where he was, eyes fixed on the lone figure moving away. The long chain tethered to Xue Wuheng's ankle dragged across the scorched ground with a low, scraping whisper, each link glinting dully in the crimson half-light.
There was something about that back, straight yet weary, that was both desolate and terrifying, like a king who had walked through centuries of ruin and carried the weight with unshaken pride.
Xiang Yu's lips pressed into a thin line. His curiosity won. He took a step, then another, until his stride fell into rhythm six paces behind the chained man.
In this barren expanse where nothing living stirred, the sight was strange, two figures moving together, bound by nothing except the invisible thread of unanswered questions. The silence between them was vast, yet heavy enough to be felt.
They climbed the mountain path in that same formation, the sound of chains and footsteps the only heartbeat of the Realm of Annihilation. At the peak, a broken silhouette emerged from the haze, a house, its roof sagging, its walls marred by two great holes form the moment Xue Wuheng had been hurled through them by Han Jun.
Xue Wuheng crossed the threshold without looking back. Xiang Yu followed. The air inside was stale, carrying the faint scent of dust and old ash.
"Sorry for the mess," Xue Wuheng said without inflection, his voice smooth yet edged. "I wasn't expecting to welcome you as a guest."
Xiang Yu's gaze swept the ruined hall, splintered beams, shattered furniture, a thick layer of neglect covering every surface. "Who were you expecting?" he asked, his tone steady but carrying a thread of steel.
Xue Wuheng let himself fall into a battered wooden chair, sprawling like a monarch claiming a crumbling throne. His hands rested lazily on the armrests as he turned his head, a slow, knowing sneer curling his lips.
"Han Xin."
As the name coiled into the air, Xiang Yu's head lifted sharply. His eyes locked onto Xue Wuheng's with a ferocity so hot it could have scorched the flesh from bone.
For a moment, the dilapidated hall seemed smaller, as if it could not contain the weight of the tension between predator and prey, though neither was quite sure which was which.
Xiang Yu's jaw locked so tightly it felt as if bone might splinter. The truth about who was behind this had been gnawing at him for a long time.
And now... now the man before him had all but confessed. Every horrible thing that had fallen over Han Xin's head… it all led back to this man. His teeth ground together, each breath hissing between them.
A low, mocking chuckle rippled from Xue Wuheng's chest. His gaze swept over Xiang Yu like a predator amused by the snarl of this cornered pup.
"Look at you," he drawled, voice dripping with condescension, "a little milk dog baring its teeth when it hasn't even been weaned."
The chill in his aura deepened, yet he reclined in his chair as if the world itself bent to his leisure. "Relax... If it weren't for me, you two wouldn't have even had the chance to be together."
The words struck like oil to flame. Xiang Yu's fury did not ebb. It surged, heavy and searing, until his whole body felt like an unstrung bow moments from snapping.
Xue Wuheng's chuckle faded into silence. His eyes sharpened, their temperature plunging. "You think," he said slowly, "a devil like you could ever claim the Divine Emperor's only son? Born of divine conception itself?"
The sneer that followed was razor-thin, slicing the air between them. "Do you know how rare Han Xin truly is? He is the only one of his kind in thousands of years, a seed born purely of primordial power. Without my intervention, you would never have even touched the edge of his shadow."
He leaned forward slightly, letting the last words drip with cruel amusement. "You really are a delusional little demon."
The space between them seemed to thrum, thick with unspoken violence, one heartbeat away from shattering.
Xiang Yu's rage coiled inside him like a storm straining against its own walls. So what? Did Xue Wuheng expect him to be grateful for putting Han Xin through hell. He would have rather Han Xin lived his normal uneventful life even if it meant that they wouldnt be together. He would rather Han Xin didnt go through all that even if it meant that he wouldnt be with him.
The demon core roared to life, his qi flaring in violent ripples. Summoning his demon core, Xiang Yu roared and lunged. His aura flared black and red, tearing at the stagnant air. But Xue Wuheng didn't even flinch, he only smiled, as though savoring a grand performance.
Xiang Yu's instincts screamed, but too late. Emerald light ignited on the sigil carved into Xue Wuheng's wrist. Power surged outward, cold and merciless, its weight tenfold his own. The backlash struck like the heavens themselves had swung a hammer.
He crashed to the stone floor, air wrenched from his lungs. Pain tore through his divine veins, raw and electric, teetering on the precipice of Qi deviation.
Blood warmed the corner of his mouth as his face flushed crimson. Still, he dug his fingers into the ground, dragging himself upright inch by inch.
Slow, deliberate footsteps crossed the space between them. Xue Wuheng's shadow spilled over him. A hand tangled in Xiang Yu's hair, jerking his head back until his throat was exposed to the cold air. Even in agony, Xiang Yu's glare burned, feral and defiant.
The whisper slid into his ear like silk wrapping a dagger. "You think a pathetic thing like you can beat me? This is my territory. Do you understand?"
The words were venomous and the smile that followed was sadastic. In Xue Wuheng's mind, the weak were meant to kneel. Yet watching Xiang Yu resist, trembling and bloodied, sent a delicious thrill humming through his grip.
Xue Wuheng slammed his head down and Xiang Yu had no time to brace himself. He slammed hard against the cold stone floor with a crack that rang in the silent hall. Pain exploded through Xiang Yu's skull, stars dancing behind his eyes as he tasted blood again.
Without breaking his deadly calm, Xue Wuheng crouched beside him and stroked Xiang Yu's hair. His touch was deceptively gentle, but colder than ice. "Be a good boy," he murmured, voice soft enough to be mistaken for kindness. "Don't do anything stupid."
Then he rose, the hem of his black robe whispering over shattered tile. A sinister aura clung to him like living shadow, dark and oppressive. He settled back into his chair as if reclaiming a throne.