My mom is waiting for treatment, and you're summoning me to be a hero?

The agitation grew stronger and stronger, and even the laws of time surrounding Gao Yang began to tremble.

The golden time patterns that had been flowing around him were now shaking wildly like a spider web with its threads cut.

The white replica formed from his will also began to disintegrate.

The clone was charging towards Lin Mo with its white sword raised, but halfway there, its body suddenly went limp like a clay statue with its bones removed, its white robe collapsed, and its sword broke into several pieces.

Seeing this, Lin Mo also lost the desire to continue fighting.

He frowned as he looked at Gao Yang, his black sword hanging at his side, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"What's wrong with you?"

Gao Yang covered his head, his body hunched over, and a low growl came from his throat, sounding like that of a wild beast or a wounded person.

He gripped his hair tightly, his knuckles turning white, veins bulging on his forehead, his entire face contorted in pain.

The mass surging up from the depths of his consciousness was still expanding, as if it were about to burst his soul.

He opened his mouth wide, almost squeezing out the words through clenched teeth: "It's coming out... something's coming out!"

Before he finished speaking, a crimson aura suddenly burst forth from between his brows, like a flame that had been imprisoned for ten thousand years finally finding a crack.

The aura was intense and chaotic; it didn't linger after it emerged, heading straight for Yin Xue.

Yin Xue was startled, and his blood magic instantly formed three layers of blood shields in front of him.

Lin Mo took a step in front of her and slashed horizontally with his black sword.

Just as the dark golden sword light was about to fall, the crimson aura suddenly stopped less than a foot away from him, as if it had been held down by something.

Lin Mo then saw clearly that a face was wrapped in that aura.

It was an absolutely furious soul, red, transparent, with a ferocious, menacing face. Its eyes were no longer recognizable as they were, just two burning red holes filled with resentment and hatred.

It kept thrashing about in the direction of the blood, like a vicious dog chained up, and its distorted features did indeed look somewhat familiar.

Yin Xue peeked out from behind Lin Mo, glanced at him, and his expression changed slightly: "That's Lei Jie!?"

Lin Mo raised an eyebrow, but his voice remained relatively calm: "That first-generation Demon King? When did you offend him?"

"It's hard to explain to you."

Yin Xueqian chuckled, his gaze still fixed on the red soul, and shrugged.

"In short, he must hate me to death."

Lin Mo didn't ask any further questions, but instead took a closer look at the red shadow that was suspended in mid-air.

Why did he suddenly stop?

"Bound by the laws of time, of course it stopped."

An old and cunning voice rang out from behind the red aura.

The God of Time slowly stepped forward, as if squeezing out from some forgotten crevice.

He was still the same as always, in a tattered robe, with a messy beard, and his tone always seemed to be harboring some wicked idea.

Gao Yang clutched his chest and collapsed into the depths of the white light, convulsing, no longer caring about anything else.

His laws of time were fluctuating violently, receding from him like a tide.

A significant portion of that tide was wrapped around Lei Jie's remnant soul, locking him firmly in place and preventing the ball of furious flame from taking another step forward.

"Old Man Time!?"

Yin Xue's eyes lit up, and his voice revealed a rare hint of joy.

Lin Mo remained vigilant, his black sword still raised, the tip pointing at the God of Time: "Weren't you refined by Gao Yang?"

"It was indeed refined."

The God of Time chuckled, reached into his sleeve and pulled out a tattered pipe, which he put in his mouth without even lighting it.

He glanced back at Gao Yang, who was being devoured by the laws of time, then looked at Lin Mo and explained.

"Thanks to Lei Jie's soul, that kid is the son of the God of Wrath. His talent is that as long as his anger doesn't die, he can keep getting stronger and even drag his soul out of the world. So when Gao Yang killed him, I took a piece of his remnant soul to study. Just now, when your Yin Xue revealed his true form, Lei Jie's remnant soul was completely enraged and rushed out. I used the impact of his rush to tear a hole in Gao Yang's consciousness and brought myself out with him."

As he spoke, he shrugged, as if to indicate that the process was simple and that he was welcome.

He looked at Gao Yang, his smile fading, and his tone became serious: "Gao Yang no longer has the laws of time. He used too much power to maintain this space, and then Lei Jie's remnant soul tore it apart from the inside. The laws of time are no longer under his control."

Gao Yang knelt in the distance, blood streaming from his chest, his whole body trembling violently.

The white space began to emit a faint sound like a mirror cracking, and cracks spread outwards from his feet.

The aura of omnipotence that he once possessed has completely faded from him.

He raised his head, and for the first time, an almost human weariness appeared in his eyes.

The Time God walked to Lin Mo's side and whispered.

"He is no longer subject to the laws of time."

Gao Yang no longer concealed his breathing.

He knelt in the center of the crack in the white space, each breath like a gust of wind squeezed out of a damaged lung, rough, broken, and frothy with blood.

Even so, his eyes remained frighteningly resolute.

The law of slaughter still lingers within him, like countless tiny, dark golden insects gnawing at his very existence.

But this man just wouldn't fall down.

He looked up at Lin Mo, as if trying to etch the young man who had walked all the way to him into his pupils.

"Even if I lose the law of time, I still have hundreds of laws."

Gao Yang slowly stood up, his knees trembling, but he still stood straight.

His white robes were already tattered beyond recognition, revealing his skin, which was riddled with cracks from the backlash of the laws.

The golden spear reformed in his hand, its tip shimmering with a faint yet sharp holy light.

"I haven't lost yet."

Lin Mo did not rush to attack.

He stood ten paces away from Gao Yang, his black sword pointing to the ground, the dark golden killing intent on the blade swirling around like a living thing.

Lin Mo's tone was calm, as if he had long anticipated Gao Yang's choice.

"I don't believe you, who have been persistent for three thousand years, will give up."

Gao Yang then stopped talking and his whole body burst forth with holy light.

That was the first law he comprehended in his life, a ray of light he finally touched after sitting in the church cellar for 50 years when he first arrived on this continent and was still a confused young man.

At that moment, holy light burst forth from his broken body, carrying a purity that was almost like a final, radiant glow.

The white space was made even more dazzling by the golden light, and a hymn-like hum even faintly emerged from the cracks.

On Lin Mo's side, the dark golden light also exploded.

The law of slaughter erupted from his body like black flames, no longer restrained or suppressed.

The entire space seemed to be torn in two, one half dyed golden by holy light, and the other half suppressed into darkness by murderous intent.

The two moved at the same time.

Gao Yang's spear, enveloped in holy light, pierced towards Lin Mo like a golden streak of fire.

Lin Mo's black sword, carrying the aura of finality, slashed down head-on without dodging.

Guns and swords clashed once more, this time without the buffer of time, only the most primal forces and laws collided.

The shockwave pushed outwards like an invisible wall, tearing the already unhealed cracks in the space even deeper.

Gold and dark gold clashed together, like two dragons about to perish together.

Every shot Gao Yang fired carried the weight of three thousand years of accumulated experience, the people he had killed, the laws he had refined, and the mad roads he had traversed.

Every sword strike from Lin Mo carried with it the obsession that led him from Earth to this place, along with that lab report and that cup of medicine.

They no longer seem like people vying for the world, but more like two madmen pushed by fate to the same dead end.

Guns and swords clashed, blood and flesh splattered.

The entire white space was shaken to the point of collapse.

No one backed down, and no one called for a halt.