Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 80 Blood Curse (Seeking monthly votes and favorites)
His eyes were bloodshot, and the blood curse on his chest suddenly throbbed with pain, appearing on its own. Crimson runes cracked open on his skin, like countless venomous snakes biting him.

"You are not worthy to protect!" A thousand angry roars echoed in the illusion, "You are destined to die alone!"

Chu Ning trembled all over, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the arena, sweat mixed with blood dripping from his chin. He was in excruciating pain, unable to distinguish between illusion and reality.

But just when he was in despair, a ray of lightning quietly lit up deep within his consciousness, which was his indomitable will.

The next instant, the Primordial Qi Cultivation Method activated on its own, and spiritual power exploded from the sea of ​​consciousness.

"enough!!"

He roared to the sky, and the lightning transformed into a lightning blade, slashing out from his sea of ​​consciousness and fiercely striking into those illusions.

Bang!
The first act shattered, and Qingli vanished instantly in the fire;

Bang!
The second act is shattered, and Xie Mingli's image is scattered like raindrops hitting a lantern;

Bang!
As the third act ended, Chu Yun's silhouette was scorched by lightning flames, and his ashes condensed into stars.

The myriad illusions collapsed like a shattered mirror. Chu Ning gasped for breath, spitting out a mouthful of black blood. The blood curse on his chest churned wildly at that moment, almost tearing him apart.

"You want to trap me in delusion? You're wrong."

He slowly stood up, raised his left hand, and lightning bolts, carrying the force of his palm, shot out and struck Mei Ji between the eyebrows.

In reality, Meiji's expression changed drastically, as if her soul had been exposed, and blood gushed from her seven orifices like a spring. Her legs went weak, she screamed and staggered back, and the nightmare energy dissipated.

Chu Ning flicked her chin with the tip of his knife, lifting it up, and said in a low, cold voice, "Illusion? Why don't you look at your own fear?"

Having said that, a spark of lightning from his fingertip entered the space between his eyebrows.

Meiji's pupils contracted violently—she saw herself, being refined into a blood puppet, devoured by countless vengeful spirits day and night; her bones were being gnawed, her soul being stripped away, yet she couldn't even commit suicide, destined to suffer endless cycles of pain for eternity!
She screamed in agony, clutching her head and kneeling on the ground. But Chu Ning didn't even glance at her again, carrying his sword and walking away with unwavering steps.

The setting sun stained the arena with blood, and his battle robes fluttered in the wind. He walked up to her, unleashing bursts of lightning and flashing sword light.

"Pfft."

Meiji was lifted high into the air, her collar hooked, and flung off the stage like a broken sack, crashing heavily into the dust.

She screamed, her soul trembled violently, and she stumbled backward, falling off the stage, the lightning still echoing in her mind.

He did not stop.

The sixty-seventh match, the seventieth match, the eightieth match... On the arena, the blood was still fresh, and the battle continued. Chu Ning was like a battle puppet driven by lightning, his sword never sheathed, his killing intent never extinguished.

But no one saw that beneath his shirt, a blood curse was quietly floating.

The blood curse burned like fire, searing every inch of his body. Like a ravenous beast, it roamed between his bones and blood, constantly tearing at his will and nerves. Each time he activated his lightning breath, a portion of it was devoured by the blood curse, then fed back to him, bringing a strange pleasure.

It wasn't ordinary pain, but a seductive abyss. Like a barely perceptible crack, it crawled out from the pain and quietly seeped into the depths of his consciousness.

Initially, it was the sixty-seventh performance.

He had only intended to sever the opponent's weapon with that strike, but instead, he severed the longsword warrior's entire arm. Blood spurted high into the air, forming an arc.

He was stunned.

His heart pounded, as if startled by this "deviation." But the next moment, an extremely subtle pleasure shot through his fingertips into his mind like an electric current, giving him a jolt.

He... even had a slight illusion of addiction.

"The sixty-seventh match has ended!"

"Chu Ning, with a 67-game winning streak and 70 points, is ranked first in the standings!"

Thunderous applause and cheers erupted. Chu Ning stood in the center of the arena, his gaze calm, letting the cold wind seep into his sleeves. But no one knew that his fingertips were trembling slightly.

It wasn't exhaustion, but—excitement. That excitement seemed to be shouting something: Keep going. Kill more people. Let blood splatter, let bones shatter.

He desperately tried to suppress the agitation, but the blood curse seemed to sense his resistance and began to pull in the opposite direction. It was no longer just a matter of power being devoured; it began to erode Chu Ning's character.

From the seventieth game onwards, he realized that it was not an illusion.

He cornered a dual-wielding warrior, who dropped his sword and looked utterly desperate, almost admitting defeat.

But just as the knife tip pressed against the man's throat, Chu Ning froze.

He almost stabbed her instinctively. Not for victory, not to force defeat. He just wanted to hear the cracking sound of a trachea rupturing, to see if there was a thunderous echo as the blood mist shot out…

At that moment, the Blood Curse seemed to laugh.

Bloodstains crawled along Chu Ning's neck, spreading inch by inch to his throat, as if something was about to burst forth. At the same time, a low, eerie voice resounded in his mind:

"kill."

Just one word, yet it resounded in my mind like a thunderclap!
His mind surged violently, even the lightning energy within his body momentarily paused. That impulse swept over him like a flood bursting its banks.

He clenched his teeth and abruptly stopped the knife. The martial artist collapsed to the ground, still shaken.

The audience below the stage assumed that Chu Ning felt pity and was unwilling to kill him outright; only he himself knew what he had just resisted. It wasn't his opponent's attack, but—himself.

Thunderous breath churned in his chest, and the blood curse surged forth, as if stirring up an invisible storm within him. Bloodstains suddenly appeared on his skin, burning in concentric circles like flames. He could clearly hear the sound of blood rushing through his veins, heavy, slow, and full of longing.

That desire was not for power, but for—blood.

It wasn't the breath of thunder, nor the victory, but the absolute pleasure brought by the moment when the enemy fell, the wounds burst open, and blood gushed out.

That pleasure was like some primal animalistic instinct slowly awakening.

The Blood Curse laughed, its voice hoarse and soft, yet possessing an irresistible penetrating power:

"Slaughter... is your final destination."

Chu Ning's eyes gradually turned crimson, with faint flashes of lightning dancing in his pupils. He stared intently ahead; before the next opponent even stepped into the arena, he could already hear the roar of the beast within him, tearing apart its cage, trying to break free.

He knew he was teetering on the brink of collapse, and a certain line of defense within his soul was crumbling.

But he still didn't back down.

He saw thunderclouds rolling in from the sky, and the blood curse etched new marks on his heart. The road ahead was stained crimson with blood, but he continued to walk.

With each step he took, the blood curse pierced his very bones like a sharp blade; yet with each step, his blade grew even sharper, and his lightning breath even more intense.

The blood curse was tearing him apart.

But he did not fall, because he knew that if he could not even overcome this obsession, then what right did he have to step into the far north of Cangque, defy life and death, and call back Qingli?
The 100 challenges of Qingyun Arena are not over yet.

Match 121, Opponent: Lu Canglei of the Heavenly Thunder Sect.

The lowest rank of the ninth grade, cultivating the "Yin Thunder Heavenly Scripture".

Above the arena, dark clouds churned, and a jet-black pillar of lightning silently rose, as if the gates of hell had quietly opened. The surrounding temperature plummeted, becoming damp and bone-chilling. The thunder rumbled, but it wasn't loud; it sounded like the whispers of countless vengeful ghosts, lingering in one's ears.

Lu Canglei stood with his hands behind his back, his aura deep and unfathomable, his eyes cold and piercing: "Chu Ning, your thunder, though fierce, is ultimately too impetuous. True thunder should be cold and formless, devouring the heart without a sound."

Chu Ning remained silent, surrounded by lightning, his entire body radiating a blinding white light. He trembled his rusty blade, sending it hurtling through the air, carrying with it a burst of lightning.

The two figures flashed, and on the arena, sparks flew, a hundred exchanges passed in the blink of an eye. Chu Ning's blade was like thunder, masculine and fierce, each strike capable of shaking mountains and rivers. Lu Canglei retreated step by step, but a ball of dark blue lightning condensed in his palm, the lightning threads moving like venomous snakes, silent yet chilling to the bone.

"Thunderous Torrent!" Lu Canglei shouted.

"Boom."

The roar of ten thousand snakes and the surging of dark thunder transformed the arena into a deep abyss of lightning, instantly swallowing Chu Ning's figure.

The disciples below the stage exclaimed in surprise, "Could Chu Ning really have lost like this?"

A few breaths of silence followed deep within the flash of lightning.

Suddenly, a long roar pierced the clouds and thundered!
"Jingzhe!"

"boom--!"

Thunder roared, and a golden-white bolt of lightning, like a scorching sun piercing the night, burst forth from the vortex of dark thunder. Chu Ning broke through the thunder prison, clad in lightning armor, his sword aura even more powerful. But what was even more astonishing was that the lightning aura flowing around his body was no longer singular.

Yin and Yang, two completely opposite forces of lightning, are colliding fiercely within his body, and there are even faint signs of them merging!
Just as he was being swallowed by the Yin Lightning, his sea of ​​consciousness stirred within the depths of the lightning.

The "Thunder Lord," who had been dormant deep within his consciousness, suddenly opened his eyes. His thunderous pupils shone like the golden sun, and his imposing aura was like that of a celestial being descending upon the world, causing the surrounding void to distort violently.

Chu Ning was stunned. He saw the divine figure raise its palm and draw in the Yin Lightning released by Lu Canglei, transforming it into streaks of blue-black lightning dragons that were then absorbed into his sea of ​​consciousness.

"Thunder has five characteristics: Yang is form, Yin is momentum. When form and momentum are in harmony, all thunder returns to its source."

Within his sea of ​​consciousness, Thunder Lord uttered an ancient incantation for thunder magic, each word striking like thunder. Chu Ning subconsciously recited the incantation, and the thunder energy within his body immediately surged violently.

The intense lightning of the Thunderclap Blade Technique began to slow down, and the chilling aura of the Yin Lightning seeped into it, no longer clashing, but attempting to coexist.

In an instant, Chu Ning seemed to transform into lightning itself, placing himself within the starry sky of his consciousness. The Thunder Lord sat cross-legged in the void, pressing down with his palm. Countless bolts of lightning transformed into scriptures that swirled around Chu Ning's body, and a completely new form of thunder technique rapidly took shape in his mind.

"Yin and Yang combine to form thunder, and the two poles return to one."

These eight characters, like the final stroke, completely awakened him from his inner turmoil.

He opened his eyes, and deep within his pupils, lightning snaked like electric snakes. The dual lightning forces were no longer fighting, but instead—merging!
Lu Canglei's expression changed drastically. He took several steps back and murmured in disbelief, "This is impossible... How could you reverse my 'Yin Thunder Heavenly Scripture'?"

Chu Ning stepped forward slowly, with lightning dancing in a ring behind him, like a dragon soaring through the thunder, steady and oppressive.

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(End of this chapter)