The comments said I was deeply affectionate, I just added points by using an alternate account.

Chen Guan didn't reply. He stared at the still faintly beating heart remnant in front of him, and at the black pipes beneath it that were constantly being destroyed and regenerated.

"Baal, are you trying to bewitch me?"

Baal's laughter echoed in my mind, carrying that eternally unchanging playfulness.

"Incitement? Lord Baal would never do such despicable things. The kind-hearted Lord Baal only presents the facts."

Chen Guan did not respond to this question.

His attention fell on the scythe, the black mist wrapped around the blade being peeled away strand by strand by the divine power above him, like water droplets evaporating under the scorching sun.

The regret is fading away.

However, he noticed a detail: the weight pressing on his soul would momentarily loosen the instant each wisp of black mist was dispelled by divine power.

He noticed it.

"Baal, you said that resentment is poison to Astaroth."

"Yes, what's wrong?"

"The poison means that He is rejecting it; His divine power is actively dissolving the lingering resentment on my blade and prioritizing the handling of this threat."

Barr paused, then said with interest, "Continue."

"If I transfer my resentment from the knife to my surroundings, can I counteract its influence?"

A meaningful chuckle.

"You want Astaroth's divine power to be busy dispelling the poison in your body, so he won't have time to suppress your soul."

"right."

Barr cautioned, "But you need to think this through. Once you do that, those negative emotions will come back in, at least three times stronger than before."

"I understand."

Barr finally asked the question that had been lingering in his mind: "Was it really necessary to go this far?"

"You just told me the meaning of fighting desperately."

Barr did not speak again.

The silence lasted for about two breaths before His voice resurfaced, carrying an indescribable meaning.

"Interesting, kid. You won. I hope you keep winning."

"Then would you be willing to help me keep winning?"

"Help with what?"

"Help me channel my resentment from the blade to the surface of my body. You know better than I how to control this kind of power."

Baal's laughter grew exaggerated: "Oh, you just refused Lord Baal's kindness, and now you want Lord Baal's help? What kind of person are you?"

"Make the most of everything."

"Tch, Lord Baal is a scoundrel. It's one thing for him to be willing to help you, but it's another thing whether you treat him well or not."

Chen Guan's lips twitched: "Yes, Lord Baal is a scoundrel. Thank you, Lord Baal."

Barr, clearly unaware of the profoundness of the Chinese language, let out a smug snort: "That's more like it."

The remaining black mist on the scythe began to flow, climbing up his knuckles along the hilt and then rapidly spreading up his arm.

Those distorted faces reappeared before his eyes.

Cries, screams, pleas for mercy, curses—everything came rushing in, more intense, denser, and more real than before.

He saw a woman in a cheongsam being dragged down the steps by her hair.

He saw a group of children huddled in a corner of the storeroom, so hungry they were gnawing on their own fingers.

He saw a man kneeling in a pool of blood, his mouth wide open, but unable to utter a sound.

The black mark felt hot in my palm, the barrier began to tremble, and fine cracks spread across the entire surface.

Baal's voice cut through the noise, exceptionally clear: "Hold on, kid."

Chen Guan stood up.

The pressure on his soul lessened the moment the resentment enveloped his body, and the gaze cast by the six-winged phantom changed from crushing to tearing, as a large amount of divine power was mobilized to dissolve the black mist clinging to his skin.

The first step has been taken.

The second step.

third step.

With each step he took, the crimson magic array patterns on the ground twisted and dimmed due to the lingering resentment seeping from his feet.

High in the sky, the six-winged phantom emitted a piercing buzz, its twelve eyes narrowed simultaneously, and the pressure it projected increased exponentially.

But those pressures crashed onto the thin mist of resentment, annihilating each other and turning into nothingness.

Liu Xiao noticed it.

He shoved away the clinging Long Ao, turned around and looked at the figure walking deep in the stage, his pupils contracting.

"What are you doing! Stop!"

Long Ao grabbed the back of his collar with his right hand again, grinning, "What are you looking at? Your opponent is right here."

Liu Xiao slammed his elbow into Long Ao's ribs with a dull thud. Long Ao groaned but did not let go.

Hong Yuan swept her axe handle from the side, forcing Liu Xiao to sidestep and block.

"Let me go!"

For the first time, Liu Xiao's voice betrayed his anxiety.

"Guess whether I'll let go or not."

Long Ao grinned; it was his turn to smile.

Step 7.

Chen Guan's vision was already blurred; memories that didn't belong to him were overwhelming his senses, making him unable to distinguish whether he was standing on the floor or on corpses.

"Thirteen meters."

Barr provided a countdown to friendship.

Ninth step.

The black mist around him had mostly dissipated, and his lingering resentment was being rapidly devoured by divine power. He could feel the pressure on his soul rising again.

"Six seconds left."

Step 11.

The barrier shattered, the light of the black mark went out, and all negative emotions, no longer obstructed, directly washed over his consciousness.

But he no longer needs the barrier.

Because he was already standing in front of that heart wreckage.

Black pipes writhed at his feet, the stench of decaying flesh and blood assaulting his senses. The broken heart was still beating weakly, keeping the magic array running.

The lingering resentment on the sickle has vanished completely; the blade is now spotless.

His eyes were bloodshot, and there was dried blood at the corner of his mouth. His consciousness was constantly being pulled between lucidity and confusion.

Baal's voice rang out faithfully: "We've arrived. So what are you going to use to chop?"

Chen Guan looked down at his scythe, now empty and devoid of emotion, and then at the beating heart before him.

He smiled.

"Who says you have to use the power of regret to strike?"

He flipped the sickle, placing the end of the handle against the surface of his heart, and covered the blade with his left hand.

The blade sliced ​​into his left palm, and blood flowed down the curve of the scythe, dripping onto the thin membrane on the surface of his heart.

"What are you doing?"

Barr's voice was full of confusion.

Chen Guan did not answer Him, but placed his bleeding left palm flat on the surface of the heart remnant, his fingertips wedging between the pulsating blood vessels.

Creation and regeneration.

This is the ability he uses the least, as it is mainly used as a passive skill.

Green light seeped from between his fingers, penetrating the fine cracks on the surface of his heart.

"Wait a minute." The experienced Baal immediately realized his intention: "You want to use the power of life to pour it in from the opposite direction?"

"Yes." Chen Guan readily admitted his intentions.

"Every cell in this thing is permeated with the will of the demon god. If you inject growth signals into it, they will proliferate like crazy, and the entire structure will explode from the inside."

"This is exactly what I wanted."

"I'm talking about the backlash! If your palm comes into direct contact with that thing, the proliferation signals of the demonized cells will flow back into your body through your ability channels!"

"I know."

"You knew that, yet you still pasted it on?"

"Time is running out, Baal."

Chen Guan is the only person who can do all of this right now.