“Ah! The Grim Reaper is here too!” Su Yao inquired of a passerby, who informed her that this man was the mysterious leader of the “Afterlife Gate,” a sect that had always been passed down to a single successor. He always cloaked himself in black, solitary and enigmatic, with no known name, only the title “Grim Reaper.” His martial prowess was unparalleled, and people thought he wouldn’t bother with the Martial Arts Conference, but here he was. With him present, victory seemed impossible for others. Many sects cursed their luck and left, while the Grim Reaper stood alone, unchallenged.
Just as the command token and Buddha’s treasure seemed within his grasp, Su Yao leaped onto the stage.
While others couldn’t see his face, Su Yao, the Great Demon King, could. No matter how skilled a mortal might be, how could they compare with a demon? Su Yao had already seen the face beneath the seemingly ascetic cloak – it was more beautiful than all the men she had ever seen combined.
“Grim Reaper, I like you,” the demon king declared straightforwardly, her voice seductive. However, the Grim Reaper merely sheathed his sword and said indifferently, “Sorry.” His voice, devoid of any emotion, shattered Su Yao’s confidence. Enraged, she waved her sleeve, summoning a dark wind, and with a clawed hand, she immobilized the Grim Reaper and whisked him away to her lair in Joyful Mountain.
“No matter how powerful you are, in front of me, you’re nothing but a toy!” Su Yao laughed coldly, stepping on the Grim Reaper’s face, tearing away his cloak until he was completely exposed. In the eyes of the Grim Reaper, filled with rage yet unable to move, the demon king’s hands roamed over his body.
“Beg me, and I’ll make you feel good,” Su Yao taunted. With a wave of her hand, she released the spell, allowing him to speak.
“Demoness…” he gritted his teeth in hatred.
Su Yao giggled, pouring a dose of aphrodisiac down his throat, silencing his curses. His body began to heat up, showing signs of discomfort. Satisfied with his reaction, watching his once clear, ascetic eyes fill with lust, she finally heard him beg, “Please…”
The demon king stripped off her clothes and took him right there. Ah, the taste of a virgin is indeed exquisite, Su Yao thought, licking her lips after finishing. This mortal was truly exceptional; his stamina and vitality exceeded her expectations. Usually, after one or two times, men would be drained, but this Grim Reaper, after three days and nights of her relentless attention, still seemed fine, continuously asking for more under the influence of the aphrodisiac.
The Great Demon Queen’s lust was ignited like never before; in her extreme excitement, she engaged in a week-long intimate session with the God of Death. She devised various ways to have him—on treetops, in caves, on cliff edges, in streams, against walls, among the clouds… She enjoyed this paragon of mortal men, the most delicious meal she had ever tasted.
Finally, on the forty-ninth day, after continuous lovemaking, the God of Death released his last essence, satisfied, and passed away from exhaustion. The Great Demon Queen, Su Yao, couldn’t bear to part with his face; she used magic to preserve his body, preventing decay, and hung it in her lair’s bedroom to admire daily. When aroused, she would engage with his lifeless form, which to her was still a treasure. This went on for thousands of years, and Su Yao never touched another man except for the God of Death.
Later, when the Divine Continent sank and the world changed, Su Yao suffered a Qi deviation, losing all her powers and her body turned to ashes. Forced to abandon her physical form, her spirit escaped and reincarnated. Eighteen years later, Su Yao, now sleeping in front of a computer, awoke to the dim light of dawn. Her eyes were bloodshot as she saw her rank had advanced on the screen. She scrolled to the top of the leaderboard where the name THANATOS was eternally fixed. “One day, I will devour you again,” Su Yao murmured, gazing at that name.
Chapter 41: Epic and Battle Songs
Su Yao entered the battlefield with an invisibility buff. As expected, the moment she entered the PvP map, the influx of players caused network congestion. Many players with lower-end systems were stuck at the entrance, unable to move.
Su Yao’s machine also lagged slightly, but fortunately, the 20 seconds of invincibility from her invisibility protected her. Spells flew through her body, hitting those unfortunate souls behind her.
The battlefield was a vast map filled with towering mountains and swirling mists, resembling a fairyland. However, no one had the leisure to appreciate the scenery; this paradise had turned into an unprecedentedly brutal battlefield.
Boom— Countless spells crisscrossed the sky, their lights filling the air, making every player tremble with fear and scramble in panic. A single wrong key press meant instant death— Priests prayed fervently, Warlocks’ talismans burned brightly, Sorcerers chanted dark curses, Warriors’ silver moon swords gleamed with blood, Knights’ lances and banners pierced the sky, and Assassins lurked in the shadows.
Twelve classes, each with its own glory, twenty thousand heroes.
Priests blessed their teams, boosting them like Viagra, Warlocks turned water into ice and stone into gold amidst the ice-sealed landscapes. In the endless dark barrier, Sorcerers cast their long spells, reaping fresh blood with their scythes, demons danced, and contracts awakened ancient grudges. The silver moon sword beheaded a Priest, leaving a team without divine favor in disarray. Braves fell from their dragons in despair, spears and lances sparked in the elemental chaos, and banners soaked in blood pierced a Berserker’s chest. A Rogue’s dagger struck true but was countered by a Bard’s fan-knife. Warlocks burned the forest, Sorcerers harvested lives amidst ashes, only to be felled by their own demons. The Summoner’s fame was unmatched, clashing fiercely with Warlocks, while a white-clad Bard stepped over traps unscathed. Shields cracked, armor fell, and the dust buried the last memories of their owners. The Summoner, finally cornered in hellfire, stepped into a Ranger’s trap, his neck snapped by a Brave’s dragon. The battlefield was a mess of blood and chaos, with heroes falling and rising, some alone, some in groups, some quitting, and many disconnecting…
When Hong Yao Tang, carrying the December Fire, descended the slope, she was covered in blood. In such a fierce melee, accidental injuries were inevitable, and survival was a stroke of luck. Her eyes were red with the thrill of battle; in PvP, there are no potions to heal, only killing replenishes your health and mana by 10% per kill. Facing her dwindling health bar, she could only continue to kill. Her fingers never stopped on the keyboard. It was a night of hard-fought battles, unlike any she had experienced in her years of playing. Her chain of December Fire became the nightmare of everyone present, killing with abandon, thoroughly enjoying herself.
Continuous combos from the Warlock! Kill! The dark, expressionless mage! Kill! The priest surrounded by stars! Kill! The summoner with chaotic demons! Kill! The warrior with a stupid giant sword! Kill! The sky-soaring hero! Kill! The knight with a fluttering banner! Kill! The martyr with icy dual blades! Kill! The archer shooting from afar! Kill! The assassin with no trace! Kill! The rogue with a flashy dodge! Kill! And for the thieves like herself, who can’t even show their true strength and bring shame to their profession! Kill! At this moment, Hongyaotang was like a demon god more terrifying than the ultimate boss summoned by a summoner.