Yilan's appearance changed again.
A few black lines emanated from his heart and rapidly spread to his limbs, covering his originally jade-white skin with a layer of black film.
This was the tangible manifestation of the devil's filthy power.
The intensity of this power was immense. In the game, the Evil Eye is forged from demon residue; in the storyline, when Diluc wears an Evil Eye, his strength surpasses that granted by the Vision (the "Eye of God"). In other words, this force transcends ordinary elemental power.
But such power is not without cost.
The player's friend Zheping in the game died because he used an Evil Eye and had his vitality drained by it. If demon residue is a kind of poisonous fire that gains strength by burning life, then what Yilan was doing amounted to throwing all of his vitality on the pyre as fuel, making the poison burn even more fiercely.
The price for this was…
"Do I only have minutes left to live?"
The black membrane spread over his body at lightning speed, and once it covered him completely, his life would be consumed.
But—
"That's enough!"
By burning his own life force, he gained power far beyond his normal limits—power comparable to that of a demon god.
He placed his hands on the mountain peak. The once-precarious summit surged hundreds of meters higher, solid as bedrock, and firmly blocked the tsunami.
Immediately—
He bent over and flexed his knees. His joints creaked under the strain: the strength he now wielded exceeded what his body was meant to bear.
But it didn't matter.
Don't worry about the pain in your body—
the surging adrenaline drowned it out.
Don't worry about how grave your injuries are—
this is my last battle.
With an earth-shaking roar, Yilan shot three thousand meters into the air.
"Let me end this."
He voiced his resolve into the dark night, like a falling meteor, and hurled himself toward Ba Che and the other great monsters—no fancy tricks, only raw force. The destructive power of his descent surpassed even a violent asteroid strike.
In that moment, sound itself seemed to vanish. What took its place on the land of Liyue was a tableau of apocalyptic ruin:
At Yilan's impact point—directly beneath him—the ground at the southern foot of Tianheng Mountain collapsed in a one-thousand-meter-wide crater, as if struck by a meteor. Every monster caught within was pulverized into blood under the immense pressure.
Explosions of sound and dust—
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom—
until the final echoes of destruction faded.
Amid flying rubble, Yilan seized a subordinate-level demon—a Beast. Though his earlier strike had not killed it, the creature was mortally wounded. As soon as it saw Yilan fall, it lunged to cocoon him, hoping to shield its allies.
Yilan planted one hand on the Beast's neck, the other on its torso. Its wailing sounded strangely sweet to him.
"Puff!"
He tore the Beast from himself and hoisted the struggling beast skyward. Veins bulged on his arms as the monster's tragic cries rang out while its ten-meter-long body was cleft in two.
Blood exploded like a geyser, mixing with rainwater and drenching Yilan's face. He wiped the gore from his eyes; the revealed gaze burned the air—cold and feral.
"All of you, die on this land. I will use your blood to irrigate it."
He spoke flatly, as though stating a simple fact, and summoned a black-jade sword. Filth condensed upon its blade, and darkness swallowed the surrounding light. Bathed in that shadow, he became a demon of destruction.
"Stop him—!"
Sensing mortal peril, Ba Che ordered a barrage: ice cones, fireballs, lightning—countless attacks slammed into Yilan as he raised his sword overhead. Then—
Cut it off!
Darkness lanced forth, severing sky and earth, splitting the very atmosphere as elemental energy was sucked into the vortex. Everywhere the blade swept, the world warped.
Boom!
In the next heartbeat, darkness washed over the ground, and every subordinate monster—except Ba Che—was drained of flesh, leaving only blood. The thousand-meter-high tsunami reluctantly receded, its waters now crimson.
This was no contest but a massacre of ants by gods. Ba Che, terrified, fled—but Yilan was upon him in an instant. Pinching Ba Che's head, he charged like a war chariot, gouging a trench in the earth.
Boom!
Ba Che's body slammed into Tianheng Mountain. Under unmatched force, the peak shattered. Great rocks rained down upon Ba Che's three heads. One was severed outright—but the demon still lived, its other two heads snapping free to bite Yilan's arm.
Yilan's free hand rose with the black-jade sword—
"Puff!"
Like a hot knife through butter, the remaining heads were cleft in two.
"HOOO…"
A final, terrible wail escaped Ba Che's ruined mouth. Sensing death, it ceased struggling and spat a serpent's tongue, glaring at Yilan with scarlet eyes:
"I curse you! I curse all of Liyue! After I die, my body will poison this land, and my will will become a nightmare, depriving you of peace day and night!"
And true to its vow, its corpse broke down into filthy pus and blood. Any object touched by this corruption dissolved in black smoke and vanished—
But—
"If this is your final gambit, then be buried with me in your last curse."
Yilan's body glowed faintly, the light piercing the black film like dawn. Filthy pus and blood evaporated on contact with the glow, as night is banished by sunrise. Yilan's essence—his ability to absorb all filth—remained untainted, even as the devil's poison saturated him.
His rear-guard strike had succeeded: most of the enemy's main forces lay slain. The tsunami, bereft of support, had drained back to sea along both flanks of the mountain. The remaining monsters could be mopped up by Liuyun Jiefeng Zhenjun and his men.
All that remained was to eliminate the final—and greatest—enemy: himself.