The other peak masters were laid to rest in high-quality coffins, with the latest generation of peak masters placed at the frontmost hall of the mausoleum, but Shen Ruizhe was not. His corpse, encased in ice and eternally preserved by spiritual stones and a magical array, leaned against the wall, acting like a silent, frozen guardian over his fallen peers.
Mo Zhiyuan stared at Shen Ruizhe's face, blurred by the layer of thick ice that obscured his vision.
"What the hell is this?" he asked. "Why is he the only one trapped inside ice?"
Zhang Xukai, panting heavily, scoffed at him.
"Shizun has already lost his golden core. Without it, his immortal body will decay like a mortal's. That's why we keep his body in a frozen state."
Mo Zhiyuan furrowed his brows and turned around to look at Zhang Xukai.
"What bullshit are you spouting? How can Shen Ruizhe not have his golden core?"
Another scoff escaped Zhang Xukai.
"Shouldn't you know best?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "If not for you, would Shizun lose his golden core? Would he pass away so quickly?"
Mo Zhiyuan rolled his eyes.
He had his eyes on Shen Ruizhe's golden core for a long time, that's true, but the latter guarded it with his life. He went as far as telling Mo Zhiyuan that he would rather self-destruct if Mo Zhiyuan dared to take his golden core by force.
Whether or not Shen Ruizhe lost his golden core in the end, it was not Mo Zhiyuan who took it from him.
And since there was no one else in this entire world who could match Mo Zhiyuan in terms of strength and cruelty, he deduced that Zhang Xukai must be lying. Shen Ruizhe did not lose his golden core at all.
This was a lousy lie to prevent Mo Zhiyuan from taking Shen Ruizhe's golden core upon death.
How utterly ridiculous.
With a single, swift motion of his hand, Mo Zhiyuan caused the thick ice block to crack and explode into shards.
"NOOOOOO!!!"
Zhang Xukai's cry rang out, but it was in vain. Mo Zhiyuan effortlessly rose and caught Shen Ruizhe's body before it hit the ground. A victorious smile graced his lips when he looked down at Shen Ruizhe's familiar face. Even in his death, he was beautiful. The spiritual energy coursing within the mausoleum's interior did a good job of preserving Shen Ruizhe's body. Tiny beads of water clung to the grandmaster's soft eyelashes, casting a gentle shadow over his fair skin. Even his pale red lips were slightly open.
He looked like he was just taking a nap.
But the strands of spiritual energy that circulated inside the hall merely brushed past. They did not settle within Shen Ruizhe's body at all. It was as if Shen Ruizhe's body was no longer able to absorb the spiritual energy.
It was as if the spiritual energy found no anchor within the grandmaster's body.
The discovery wiped the smile off Mo Zhiyuan's face.
He gently brushed his hand across Shen Ruizhe's chest, pressing where the golden core should have been.
Nothing.
He tried infusing his own spiritual power into Shen Ruizhe's body, intent on stimulating the golden core, but his efforts failed to evoke any reaction.
The golden core was truly gone.
Mo Zhiyuan's lips fell open in astonishment.
"The golden core is not here," he murmured in disbelief.
Zhang Xukai, who was bleeding heavily on the ground, coughed a mouthful of blood and said with a hoarse voice, "Are you satisfied now, Mo Zhiyuan? You have intruded into the mausoleum and desecrated Shizun's corpse. It is not too late now. If we put him back into a block of ice, we can still preserve his body."
Mo Zhiyuan held Shen Ruizhe's still and silent body close, his arms wrapped around the vessel that once held so much life.
If Shen Ruizhe were still alive, he would not be willing to lie in Mo Zhiyuan's arms in this manner. He would bite, he would kick, he would struggle with all his might. If not for Shen Ruizhe's stubborn persistence, would Mo Zhiyuan even strike and torture his shizun so many times in the past?
His shizun was dead.
Mo Zhiyuan stared at Shen Ruizhe's peaceful face.
Shen Ruizhe, his bitter enemy, the one responsible for his imprisonment for a hundred years at Mount Hundun, was finally dead.
He should be happy.
He should be happy, right?
"I am back, Shen Ruizhe," he heard himself whispering.
"I don't even need nine years and nine months to destroy the cultivation world again."
"Are you not going to do anything about it?"
"I can turn Tianhe Mountain into a sea of blood and a mountain of corpses within a day. Not even your beloved disciple can stop me. Shen Ruizhe, can you bear watching me kill every single person in this sect, a second time?"
His taunting words were left unanswered. Only the sniffles of the young disciple were heard as he cowered by Zhang Xukai's side, as if the latter could save him somehow.
Anger flared within Mo Zhiyuan. Gritting his teeth, he rose to his feet and flew out of the mausoleum with Shen Ruizhe's body tightly wrapped in his arms. He paid no attention to Zhang Xukai's frantic cries behind him at all.