From Blood Mage to Styx Ancestor

Chapter 388 Stitching and Cutting

As the first apostle under the Corpse-Stitcher, the Corpse-Stitcher was exceptionally knowledgeable. He had once visited the Death Star Shipyard with his master and knew how thick its armor was.

To put it bluntly, even if Xiu Ranming himself were to unleash his full power, he wouldn't be able to scratch its armor.

The dragon scale armor we see now has a touch of the Death Star's style, equally indestructible and as hard as a rock in a latrine.

"What's your relationship with the Death Star Fleet?" He felt a surge of interest.

We met once.

The blood cells throbbed, the dragon scales undulated, and faces appeared on its surface, answering in unison.

Modi pondered that since he had indeed seen the wreckage of the Death Star shipyard, he could practically have seen Him in person, so it wasn't wrong to say that.

"No wonder," the corpse-stitching man said without suspicion, taking the dragon scales on his body as proof. "So you received a favor from that person."

"However," He changed the subject, calming his emotions, "even if you are connected to that person, I cannot give up."

"In the struggle for the Great Dao, there is no room for retreat."

"Coincidentally, that's what I was thinking too." Modi grinned, and the blood sphere suddenly collapsed, wriggling and changing its shape.

Seven dragon heads extend outwards, each with ten horns, and their scarlet eyes exude an evil aura.

Red Dragon, wielding a spiraling spear magnified countless times in one hand and a cyan sword in the other, glared menacingly at the Corpse-Sealing Man.

Without any warning, Modi threw his spear again, and this time, the four gods still coordinated perfectly.

Interference, encirclement, weakening, and attack—each played its part, testing the strength and methods of the Corpse-Stitcher again and again.

"The same old trick again? Don't you guys have anything new? The same old tricks won't work on me... What?!"

The previously composed corpse-stitching man's expression suddenly changed, his pupils shrinking to slits as he quickly withdrew his sewing needle.

The next second, the spiral beam of light slammed heavily in front of Him. Although it was still blocked by the thin veil, it was one step closer.

But what was most unbelievable to Him was not this, but that His methods inexplicably failed.

"Your power, your methods, are nothing more than 'stitching together,' aren't they? They suit your name quite well."

Modi was not annoyed by the failed attack. The altered heaven beside him had already collected data proving that his attack was still effective.

More importantly, he has analyzed how the corpse-stitching man blocked the attack.

"That's the surface of the world, or maybe the dead skin of the world." The altered heavens were unsure how to describe it.

"In short, he sewed the layers of the world together and then solidified them like dead skin to counteract our attacks."

A single layer of the world's outer skin is nothing; they can tear it apart at will.

But if it's through the skin that's been hardened by the power of death, then it's very different, especially since the corpse sewer has stitched together multiple layers of dead skin.

Even if this layer of dead skin can't compare to dragon scale armor, it's enough to block a few Final Spirals.

"As for His method of guiding the attack, it is also through stitching."

The analysis of the altered heavens continues.

"He stitches your attacks into you, so you attack yourself, something like that."

"Stitching..." Mordy looked at the expressionless corpse-stitching man, "What a troublesome and bizarre authority."

If his authority is purely numerical, then the authority of the Corpse Weaver is much more mechanistic.

"Even the most bizarre authority has a way to be broken," the corpse-stitching man said with a nonchalant smirk. "Didn't you just break my authority?"

"If it can be stitched up, then it can be separated again." He remained noncommittal, raising his hand to fire another shot.

A torrent of blood swept in, crashing into the corpse-stitching man before vanishing instantly. Unlike the previous times, this time it was one step closer to its stationary target.

"If this happens a few more times, my shields will probably be gone," the Corpse Stitcher sighed. "Luckily, I'm afraid of dying, so I carry a lot of shields."

As soon as he finished speaking, the dead skin on the world in front of his sleeve grew several more layers, much thicker than before Modi destroyed it.

"You, an Apostle of Death, are afraid of death?" Zhifutian sneered. "That's the funniest joke I've heard recently."

"Only by having reverence for death can one become an apostle of death," He said with a smile.

Despite his smiling face, he didn't look like a real person, but rather like a terrifying wax figure.

With a flick of the wrist, the tip of the sewing needle in the sleeve once again disappeared into the void, threading through the gaps between things, connecting two things that should have been separated.

"Your dragon scales are quite nice, but they'll be mine in the next second!"

He was very confident in his authority and his methods, and he was certain that he would not fail this time.

Hiss.

After a slight tearing sound, Modi keenly noticed that some of the scales on his body had disappeared.

No, to be more precise, it was sewn onto the body of the corpse sculptor.

Relying on Mordi's dragon scales, He didn't even need to use the World's Dead Skin, and thus withstood a final spiral attack.

"Oh my, your scales are really useful." He touched the dragon scales on his face and said with a smile.

"Although I don't know what method you used to prevent your attack from being affected by my authority, it seems that the dragon scales on your body are not immune to my influence."

That's true. While the Unchanging Spear can cut the seams, it can't stop it from attacking other places.

"But do you really think my dragon scales are safe to use?"

Modi's face was gloomy, and all seven dragon heads disappeared into the shadows at the same time. The upper half of his face was difficult to see, only the lower part of his mouth, which was curling up a sinister smile, was visible.

"Um?

'

A sense of foreboding suddenly arose in the man stitching the corpse.

He had clearly checked and there was nothing unusual about these dragon scales, so why did he have this feeling?

"Are you bluffing?"

"Unfortunately, but no." Modi's smile suddenly turned sinister. "Explode."

The moment he uttered those words, the corpse-stitching man felt the dragon scales on his body suddenly heat up, soon emitting a temperature comparable to a star core.

The next moment, the dragon scales sewn onto the sleeve burst open, transforming into star matter composed of high-temperature plasma, completely enveloping it.

A small sun exploded in deep space. Although it did not have the mass of a real sun, its light was just as dazzling.

"Cough cough..."

'

The flash lasted only a few seconds before being extinguished by the corpse-stitching man with a slap.

Although he looked disheveled and his linen cloak had several scorch marks, the sudden explosion of the dragon scales did not actually cause him much damage.

What He was truly wary of were the successive crimson spiral beams of light.

The plague, illusions, and chaotic spaces all worked together, delaying the action and leaving Lingxiu no time to put on that piece of dead skin of the world.

This also resulted in it being pierced through by the spiral beam of light.

"Cough... How embarrassing."

The corpse-stitcher raised his head, staring blankly at the seven-headed red dragon with dead fish eyes.

"How could you use something so unstable to make dragon scale armor? Are you tired of living?"

"The special process was originally designed to address the loss of dragon scales, thus preventing technology leaks. In most cases, they are very stable."

Modi smiled slyly, knowing that as long as the dragon scales were separated from his body for a period of time, they would spontaneously combust and melt away.

Therefore, he was not worried at all about the dragon scales being stolen.

"I see." He put on that blank expression again, looked at the large hole in his chest, which was filled with purple, gel-like blood and smelled of decay.

He tore off the dead skin of the world and draped it over himself, then turned his gaze to the other three gods, his dead fish eyes flashing with ferocity.

The moment Modi flung his spear, the Corpse Stitcher shook his sewing needle at an extremely high frequency, threading the needle with lightning speed.

Invisible threads pierced through the void, connecting to the three gods. Then, with a forceful tug, a part of the three gods was pulled and sewn together with the body.

A crimson wound flashed by, and all three gods showed signs of discomfort, as if they had eaten a snack.

"Goo... It can be like this?" The bird that usurped the heavens twisted its head 360 degrees, and its five eyes narrowed.

Zhi Futian remained silent, his bloated body missing a piece, his face gloomy.

"Ugh—" Bliss rolled his eyes and let out a series of battle cries, his expression a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"The spear of the Slaughtering Heaven is so pure, can we have another round?"

Seeing this, the corpse stitcher stared at Him as if he had seen a ghost, unsure whether he was rewarding Him.

Ignoring the bizarre commotion of Bliss, Modi stared at the corpse-stitching man, whose body was covered in feathers, fungal spots, and strange extra limbs.

These features symbolize the three gods, which are the parts that the mortician sewed onto the sleeves.

Therefore, attacking the corpse-stitching man will also harm your own allies.

"So, do you want to continue?" the corpse-stitching man asked with a smile.

With this skill, He made many immortals hesitant to act, won many wars, and also plundered a lot of resources from his enemies.

To this day, much of the flesh on his body, which was once part of the enemy, now belongs to him.

"There's no reason to give up," Mordy said coldly.

He raised his spiral spear, pointing the tip at the corpse-stitching man, and red light emanated from it.

"In that case, let your companions pay an even greater price... Hmm?"

Just as the corpse stitcher was about to continue his stitching technique, a sword shadow appeared in his peripheral vision.

He was startled, but then he remembered that he was still sewing a part of the enemy, so he relaxed and decided to see what new tricks Modi was going to pull.

"Not avoid it? That suits me just the way it is." With a thought, Mo Di's sword shadows split into a sword net.

The sword energy, both blue and white, intertwined and seeped into the body of the corpse in the blink of an eye.

"Nothing happened?" He tilted his head, glanced at the spiral beam of light coming towards him, smiled slightly, and took the initiative to meet it.

"Since you don't care about them, I'm happy to play along."

The crimson beam of light vanished in an instant, and the smile on the corpse-stitcher's face froze.

"What...did you do?"

"Sever and kill the connection between you, that's all." Modi put down the blue sword in his hand and gently touched it to the spiral spear, sparking a series of sparks.

Taking a deep breath, the corpse-stitching man lowered his head and looked at his chest, which now had another hole.

Not a single feather or fungal spot remained on its body, and its superfluous limbs had fallen off at some point, leaving it only with a body full of scars.

Sword energy continued to escape from the wound, causing secondary damage.

"Severing and killing the connection, your authority really does restrain me," He said helplessly.

Because of Mordi's existence, His authority and power are difficult to exercise.

"The situation has really taken a sharp turn for the worse."

The spear that had ended the cycle of time roared, and the sword net and spiraling beam of light shone together in the deep space.

The tide of battle has turned, and now the Corpse Stitcher is on the defensive.

Of the Four Gods, only Modi can inflict effective damage, but the other three seals are not entirely useless.

When they work together, they can cause considerable trouble for the corpse sewing man.

Whenever the Corpse Stitcher tried to retaliate, he was blocked by Modi, whose sword beams always precisely severed the flesh within the stitches.

After obtaining enough data from the usurper, they further analyzed the mechanism of His authority, based on which Modi was even able to precisely dissect each layer of His defenses.

The dead skin in the world of sleeves is playing a smaller and smaller role, and the four gods' offensive seals are becoming more and more fierce.

"Phew, I didn't expect you to have such a trick up your sleeve."

Coughing up a mouthful of foul blood, the corpse-stitcher cautiously dodged the fleeting blue sword light, but was grazed by another white sword light, adding many wounds to his body.

There was no way to retreat. Behind them lay the sealed zone of the warp storm, and the tentacles of the warp shadows were eyeing Xiu covetously. If his condition deteriorated further, Chou would try to drag Xiu into that terrible place.

"This is absolutely terrible."

The subspace storm not only blocked teleportation and warp jumps, but also isolated them from the outside world, causing them to be trapped in the Dark Zone and almost becoming island guerrillas.

However, it's not fair to call it a desperate situation, since there are still some tricks up one's sleeve.

He still hasn't discovered my backup plan, hasn't realized I've sewn something special... But, is it really necessary to do this?

He pondered for less than a moment before making a decision.

"If not now, when?"

With this in mind, He immediately spoke in divine language and prayed to His Lord: "My Lord... Your servant is calling upon You!"

Apart from Him and the corpse-piecer, no one knew that a foreign object was sewn into His body.

That was a piece of dead skin from the corpse-collecting cultivator, equivalent to the cultivator's sharp edge.

Although the storm did isolate the sharp lineage from the outside world, it maintained its connection with the corpse-collecting group through that piece of dead skin, and the two never broke off their connection.

"I never thought I'd have to use this thing in the end." He smiled wryly as he faced the four gods who had surrounded him.

Modi became alert, a sense of danger exploding in his heart, making him tremble almost all over.

...a demon god.

Upon hearing this word, the three gods' expressions changed drastically.

The Ugly Subspace Storm Seal seemed to pause for a moment, and the shadow tentacles that had been trying to spread out stopped for a second, not daring to go any further.

"Just as I expected. Luckily, I was prepared."

Modi's face was solemn as he quietly summoned a certain entity within his body.

"Hello, are you there?"

"?"