Lin Kong’s current predicament was no different from wrestling a wild beast more ferocious than a crocodile. The Zerg King thrashed wildly on the ground in a desperate attempt to break free of his grip, its heavy tail slamming down hard enough to crack the earth beneath them.
Hermes and Xue Po had already been mentally wounded by the earlier psychic blast and were barely holding on. At this point, the only one still capable of fighting was—shockingly—Gayan.
The Zerg King was covered in mottled blood, both red and gold, so intermingled it was impossible to tell whether it belonged to Lin Kong or the beast itself. It looked like a torn and punctured sieve, yet still roared furiously: [Gayan! Why are you just standing there? Kill him already!]
Gayan froze for a moment when he heard that. He looked at Lin Kong, bloodied from head to toe, then glanced at Hermes, whose eyes still burned with vicious intent. He seemed like he was about to act—but for some reason, he hesitated.
Far off in the distance, Xue Po clutched his bruised cheek—struck blue by Gayan earlier—and shouted hoarsely: [Gayan! Don’t listen to it! The Zerg King is seriously injured—this is our chance! Kill it now, or we’re all going to die!]
The Zerg King’s eyes darkened upon hearing this. Without warning, it lashed out with its psychic power and seized control of Gayan’s mind: [Gayan! If you don’t want to die, do as I say—now!]
Gayan clutched his head in agony, his face deathly pale, fingers digging into his hair as if trying to tear the pain away. [My King! Please… have mercy on me!]
The Zerg King’s deep, booming voice echoed relentlessly in his mind, urging him on: [Then move! Kill that prey—now!]
Hermes forced himself to rise from the ground, trying to block Gayan’s path. But his internal organs had been ravaged by the earlier psychic blast; the moment he moved, he coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed again, falling heavily back into the dirt. His bloodless face was now smeared with crimson and mud.
The temple was on the verge of collapse. Overhead, a blood-red moon hung low among the treetops, casting its eerie glow over the devastation below.
Hermes, Xue Po, Gayan, and the Zerg King—any part of their skin touched by the moonlight began to corrode, white smoke rising as their flesh dissolved in the howling wind and snow.
Lin Kong had no strength left. He gripped his blade tightly and drove it deep into the Zerg King’s abdomen. The cold was so bitter that his palm had frozen to the hilt—the flesh and metal fused together, impossible to pull apart.
The two of them were both hanging on by sheer willpower—this would come down to who lasted until the very end.
Gayan could no longer withstand the Zerg King’s overwhelming psychic pressure. Step by step, he staggered toward Lin Kong, raising his sharpened right claw high into the air. His target: the heart, right in the center of Lin Kong’s exposed back.
Amid the stunned gazes of all the zergs watching—he drove it down with full force—
“Skkrrrch!”
It was the sound of a blade slicing through fabric, piercing into flesh. In that instant, something warm and metallic-sweet burst forth, splattering across Gayan’s face—so much so that his vision was completely drowned in red.
Hermes froze for a split second at the sight—then his eyes went wide with horror as he let out a hoarse, broken cry: “No—!!”
No!
The prey must not die! Lin Kong— Lin Kong cannot die!!
Hermes scrambled forward in a panic, desperate to check on Lin Kong’s condition—but the blood-red moonlight burned into his body like blazing sun on ice and snow, corroding him so quickly he could barely move another step.
Lin Kong remained motionless in the same posture. A moment later, he slowly lowered his head and glanced down at his chest—where Gayan’s claw had pierced straight through him. The moment the claw was withdrawn, blood gushed forth in a violent stream, dripping steadily from the edge of his clothes, staining the ground beneath him a deep crimson.
“…”
Lin Kong opened his mouth soundlessly, as if trying to say something, but only a puff of cold air escaped. His face was terrifyingly pale, yet his dark eyes were steady, focused. He didn’t cry out in pain, didn’t struggle—instead, he lowered his head and clamped his frozen, bruised fingers tightly around the Zerg King’s throat. Then, after flexing his numb, frostbitten fingertips, he slowly, deliberately pushed them into the bloody wound he’d managed to open—
He was searching for the Zerg King’s heart.
And then Lin Kong saw it—within the creature’s body, there was a flicker of blue light.
His fingertips explored, twisted, as though he had completely forgotten Gayan’s presence. At last, amid the Zerg King’s desperate thrashing, he seized a warm, pulsing heart and yanked it out with a violent force—
[Aaaaahhhhhh!!!]
The Zerg King’s body suddenly went rigid, and a shrill, ear-splitting scream of agony erupted from its throat. Gayan felt a sharp, catastrophic snap in his mind, as if some vital cord had shattered. At that moment, the entire temple behind them seemed to tremble, the mountain itself shaking with the force of the Zerg King’s torment.
The Zerg King’s heart was violently ripped out by Lin Kong. It was a pure blue, semi-transparent organ, still stained with golden blood, beating with rhythmic pulses.
“Bang!”
With a ferocious swipe, the Zerg King hurled Lin Kong across the ground, finally succeeding in shaking off its prey. But in doing so, it had lost something far more precious.
[My heart… my heart…]
[Give my heart back… give it back… ]
The Zerg King instantly panicked, crawling frantically toward Lin Kong’s position, its broken body leaving a long, messy trail of blood behind it. But with each movement, its speed grew slower, slower still—its once long, writhing form was now being torn apart with every step, and by the time it was only one step away from Lin Kong, all that remained was its head.
[Give it back to me…]
The severed head whispered, its voice barely audible:
[My heart…]
The Zerg King convulsed in agony for a moment, its body losing all strength before crashing to the ground with a deafening thud, lying motionless in front of Lin Kong.
The Zerg King was dead.
Its heart had been the source of its power. Without it, it was nothing more than a mass of rotting flesh that could still move.
Lin Kong stumbled, his steps faltering for a brief moment. A faint, relieved smile tugged at his lips, but then his body swayed and collapsed heavily to the ground—
For humans, without a heart, they too would die.
Xue Po let out a startled cry: [Lin Kong!]
It was only at that moment that Lin Kong belatedly became aware of the pain. It was unbearable—he had never felt pain like this in his life. Struggling, he lifted his head and turned toward Hermes’ direction, only to see him crawling and stumbling toward him, his cold, lifeless red eyes flickering as if something within them was gradually collapsing. There was only panic, and then… despair.
“Hermes…”
Lin Kong didn’t understand why he was still able to smile. Perhaps it was because he rarely saw Hermes change expression like this. With each word Lin Kong spoke, he coughed up blood. When Hermes, his hands drenched in blood from the red moon’s corruption, finally wrapped them tightly around him, Lin Kong managed to force out a complete sentence:
“It… it’s finally dead…”
Lin Kong had never done anything so earth-shattering in his life. In the past, he would have been full of pride, maybe even gloating about it, but now, on the brink of death, he found himself drained of all strength.
Hermes gripped Lin Kong’s hand tightly, desperate to transfer his life force to heal him. But his energy was long spent—there was nothing left to sustain life.
[Lin Kong, don’t die!]
Hermes’ hand, gripping Lin Kong’s, trembled violently. His forehead was covered in bulging veins, his expression twisted in a fierce grimace:
[I told you—you’re only allowed to die by my hand!]
Lin Kong thought to himself, I know, but plans never survive first contact with reality. He let go of the Zerg King’s heart, now cold and stiff. Another cough of blood escaped him, and with great difficulty, he raised his hand to touch Hermes’ face, wanting to say something. But as his fingers brushed against a warm, salty tear, he was momentarily speechless, stunned into silence: “…”
Lin Kong knew that it was a tear—something so common, almost cheap in the world of the production, but this was different. Hermes was a cold-blooded creature; could it really shed tears?
He wanted to ask why, but before he could, everything went dark. He lost consciousness completely, and his hand, once raised, quietly fell. It never moved again.
Hermes froze, his body stiffening in disbelief as he looked down at Lin Kong. The human’s eyes were tightly shut, breath long gone. Even the body, once warm, was beginning to grow cold and stiff in the harsh winter snow.
In that instant, the world seemed to lose all color. The entire forest trembled violently, and the blood-red moon above them began to eerily lose its color, revealing a clean, shining silver edge. Soft moonlight poured down, causing no harm to Hermes or the others, but it corroded the countless worker zergs hidden within the temple, reducing them to nothing.
The temple had existed since the birth of this land. No one knew who had built it; all that was known was that an innumerable swarm of golden beetles had always busily wandered near the temple, reinforcing the walls with mud.
These golden beetles seemed to be born for all purposes. They knew how to weave fabric, how to build palaces, and how to protect the zerg eggs laid by the Zerg King from the wind and rain.
But when the true apex of the food chain appeared, their purpose was lost.
Because, in the countless years to come, the descendants once “born” by the Zerg King would learn to breed, cultivate, and build. The mountain ranges and valleys would eventually be replaced by countless steel behemoths. These past events would become nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust, a single page at the beginning of the Zerg civilization’s story.
If time were to begin recording from this moment, if the years were to start leaving their marks from this instant, then once this cold winter had passed, it would usher in the first year of the Zerg Star.
That blood-red moon never glowed again, as though it, along with that night and the Zerg King, had turned to dust. Lin Kong never woke up again, for he was dead.
That’s right. He was dead.
At least, that’s what Xue Po believed.
The human had no breath, no body heat, and his heart had stopped beating. Wasn’t that death? The only difference between him and those other prey was probably that he wouldn’t rot, because Hermes was desperately pouring his life force into him every day, trying to bring him back to life.
The beginning of spring was still somewhat cold, for the snow was gradually melting, and when something leaves this world, it always takes something with it.
For example, when the ice and snow melted, they took the temperature with them. And then there was Lin Kong—when he died, it seemed as though he had taken with him the last remnants of Hermes’ soul.
The once grand temple had long since collapsed, leaving only half a ruined wall. In the center stood a tall golden statue, built with painstaking effort by the golden beetles who had sifted sand and stone to gather gold. Now, the statue had been deformed by the fallen beams and columns, forming a makeshift corner to shield from rain and wind.
When Xue Po entered, he expected to see a black silhouette sitting on the ground, surrounded by a congealing magic circle. A blue aura radiated outward from him, and any living being who stepped into the circle would have their life force drained and continually transferred to the corpse lying below.
Xue Po didn’t want to become a sacrifice, so he lifted himself off the ground, supported by his psychic energy, and floated lightly behind Hermes. He frowned and advised, [Hermes, Lin Kong is dead. You’ve been giving him life force for an entire winter, and he still hasn’t reacted. This method isn’t working.]
Hermes closed his eyes and continued to manipulate the magic circle, completely ignoring Xue Po’s advice. His gestures changed rapidly, causing the blue magic circle beneath him to expand, growing so large that even a passing ant would be drawn into it as a sacrifice.
Ever since the day the Zerg King died, and Hermes had consumed its heart, he now possessed the psychic energy of two Zerg Kings. There was no other creature in the forest as powerful as he was.
But Hermes simply sat in the temple, day after day, guarding Lin Kong’s corpse and desperately channeling energy to heal him.
This act was like that of a mortician in a funeral home, exerting every effort to conceal the wounds of the deceased, trying to make them appear as vibrant as the living. But while a torn wound could be stitched, a still heart could never beat again.
Xue Po’s expression darkened slightly: [Hermes, what you’re doing now is no different from what the Zerg King did before! Your killing speed is almost on par with it!]
[I thought you killed the Zerg King for freedom, but now you’ve simply brought down one king and supported another—one that doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, a new king!]
Hermes suddenly opened his eyes at these words. His dark red pupils narrowed into slits, and his gaze became so heavy with gloom it felt like it could drip with malice. He coldly uttered two words: [You’re wrong.]
Hermes hadn’t killed the Zerg King solely for freedom.
[I did it just to stay alive.]
Alive.
He was alive, and Lin Kong would be alive too. That was what Hermes truly wanted.
Xue Po couldn’t help but glance at the corpse in the center of the magic circle: [But Lin Kong is already dead, Hermes. He’s like the prey you’ve killed before, he will never come back to life. No matter how many creatures in this forest you kill, it won’t help!]
As he said the last words, Xue Po’s voice suddenly dropped: [Hermes, stop guarding his body. It’s spring now, and Lin Kong will soon rot away.]
[Bury him beneath the temple. The gods will protect him.]
Upon hearing this, Hermes clenched his fingers tightly, gritting his teeth as he spat out: [He doesn’t need the protection of the gods.]
[I will make him live again.]
Xue Po felt like he was just a stone in a latrine—stinky and hard. Hearing this, he couldn’t help but grow angry: [Resurrect him? Unless you become a god yourself!]
After speaking, Xue Po snorted heavily and turned to leave, no longer wanting to engage with Hermes. The half-destroyed temple fell silent again, only the creaking sound of continuous prey being sucked into the magic circle and shredded could be heard.
“Creeeak—”
“Creeeak—”
Hermes coldly watched all of this, his expression unreadable. After a few moments, he suddenly flicked his sleeve and stopped the magic circle. The residual wave of his psychic power hit a nearby tree, causing it to collapse and kick up a large cloud of dust, followed by a resounding crash.
Such a commotion still didn’t “wake up” Lin Kong.
He lay there with his eyes closed, the wounds on his body already perfectly healed by Hermes, his entire body cleaned and dressed in fresh clothes.
He should have already rotted away, but because of the magic circle, his appearance remained just as it had been in life.
Hermes quietly stared at him, his expression grim. After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice low and heavy:
[Lin Kong, you’re really dead…]
Hermes had killed so many prey, he should have known by now—aside from not being drained of life, Lin Kong was no different from the corpses of the other prey, piled in the corners.
But he still couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept that Lin Kong was really dead.
Hermes stood up slowly, walking to Lin Kong’s side. He knelt down and took Lin Kong’s cold hand in his, then closed his eyes, bringing the hand to his lips. In a voice barely audible, he whispered: [I’ll eat you…]
[When your body can no longer be preserved, I’ll eat you…]
He would obtain the other’s soul, allowing them to both gain immortality together.
But Hermes instinctively didn’t want to do that. He would still try his best to preserve Lin Kong’s body, preventing it from rotting. Even if the other couldn’t come back to life, just being able to see him every day was enough.
The things Lin Kong had left in the cave were few, all of which Hermes had taken to the temple, because this place was at the center of the forest, making it more convenient to activate the magic circle. Whenever he sat in solitude, Hermes would think of the thing Lin Kong had once mentioned, something called a “will” but unfortunately, he didn’t know how to operate a phone.
This square, black object felt strange to the touch. No matter how Hermes tried to interact with it, it never lit up again. He had tried channeling energy into it, but the screen only lit up for a moment before going dark again.
Hermes was very curious to know what Lin Kong might have said before his death, and if there were any messages for him inside.
The day this human died, Hermes had finally regained his freedom, which could be considered a form of rebirth. But the beginning of his life with the other had been tainted by something bad, and from then on, the days stretched on like a dying fire, lifeless, unable to reignite.
Since the day he killed Lin Kong, Gayan had secluded himself in the harsh, bitter cold of the northern lands, never to be seen again in the dense forest. All the Zerg tribes knew that his skin had been tainted by venom, turning black. If he were ever to appear under the sun, he would be immediately detected and hunted down. Thus, he would spend his life walking only under the cover of night.
At this moment, it seemed as if all the stories had come to an end, everyone had their fate, except for Lin Kong.
His body remained preserved in the temple.
He was already dead, yet it seemed that he was more formidable than the living Hermes, because the latter’s emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—were all tied to him.
In the blink of an eye, summer arrived, and the dense forest once again flourished, bursting with a vast, verdant vitality.
This weather was warmer and more scorching than early spring, and it also meant that many things, already long dead, could no longer be preserved.
Hermes couldn’t watch over Lin Kong at all times, and the psychic barriers he set up couldn’t stop the small insects living in the soil. They might sneakily gnaw at Lin Kong’s body when Hermes wasn’t paying attention.
Hermes thought for a long time, and in the end, he decided to eat Lin Kong. This way, they could live together.
The thoughts of a beast are always simple and cruel, yet they hide a trace of naivety that is almost laughable.
Hermes carried Lin Kong into the darkest inner room at the back of the temple, a place where even sunlight couldn’t reach. It was safe, cool.
Hermes knew that Lin Kong was afraid of pain, so when he placed him on the ground, he thought for a long time and still didn’t know how to eat him. In the end, he simply held Lin Kong’s cold hand, rubbing it gently again and again.
Hermes’ body wasn’t as cold as before. Over time, even Lin Kong’s fingertips would pick up some warmth that belonged to him, as if he were alive.
But it was only as if.
Hermes simply lay down on the ground with Lin Kong, holding his body. Whether it was because of the continuous life force Hermes was transferring, or perhaps because of Lin Kong’s unique constitution, Lin Kong’s body showed no signs of decay. His skin felt almost like that of a living person, though it was a bit cold.
“Lin Kong.”
Hermes closed his eyes, resting against Lin Kong’s shoulder, softly murmuring in the human language that only the two of them could understand:
“You still didn’t make it through this winter…”
The other would never smile and speak to him again, kiss him, embrace him, or even make love to him.
At this moment, Hellemis deeply realized the difference between the living and the dead. He instinctively held Lin Kong tighter, unwilling to consume him, and a terrifying thought arose in his mind—
If the blood moon were still here, it would be better. That way, he could lie with Lin Kong under the moonlight, slowly decaying together.
Holding onto this thought, Hermes closed his eyes and fell asleep. He was simply too tired. From the moment Lin Kong’s breathing ceased, he hadn’t had a peaceful sleep, until now when he could finally relax.
Perhaps it wasn’t relaxation, but simply…
A heart like dead ashes.
Outside, birds chirped. A small bird fluttered and landed on a branch, its body a blur in the fragmented light, but soon it flew away. It soared over the rolling mountains, passing through misty clouds, seemingly crossing time and space itself.
…
Through the lush branches and leaves, a yellow bus could be vaguely seen speeding through the forest, winding along a rugged mountain road that seemed to reach the sky, with clouds and mist close enough to touch.
Lin Kong had been dozing in the backseat when the bus suddenly took a sharp turn. The force of the sudden brake caused his head to slam into the railing, jolting him awake.
“Ow, damn it!”
Lin Kong pressed his hand against his head, letting out a pained cry. Stars danced in front of his eyes, and it took him a while to regain his senses. When he finally focused, he saw that he was sitting in a bus. With the tourists and the driver, there were only about six people, and it all seemed strangely familiar.
Lin Kong’s expression changed, and after a brief pause, he realized this was the very bus that had taken him up the mountain. But hadn’t the bus overturned? And hadn’t he been pierced through the heart by the red-haired Gayan, dying in the process? How could he be back here?
Or was everything about Hermes just a dream he had?
Lin Kong’s expression was filled with confusion and doubt. His eyes scanned the people in the bus, then he turned to look out the window at the scenery. The more he looked, the more familiar it seemed. Finally, he couldn’t help but stand up with a “Huh!” and hurriedly rushed to the driver’s side, urgently shouting, “Driver! Stop the bus! There are falling rocks ahead, if you don’t stop, we’ll die!”
The driver, upon hearing this, paused for a moment but didn’t look at him. “This is deep in the mountains. Falling rocks happen every day. It’s normal.”
Lin Kong was nearly frantic. “Then can I at least go to the bathroom? Stop the bus for a bit so I can get off!”
His intention to get off the bus was so obvious that even the tour guide, who had been silently playing with his phone, glanced up at him, giving him a look that seemed slightly puzzled.
The driver’s response was simpler this time: “We can’t stop on the mountain road.”
Lin Kong sighed heavily, stomping his foot, nearly reaching for the steering wheel himself. “Can you stop first? Just stop! I have a heart condition, and I’m not feeling well right now.”
After speaking, Lin Kong lowered his head, pressing his hand over his heart, his brows tightly furrowed, looking genuinely like he was having an episode. Unfortunately, his earlier outburst had already diminished the authenticity of his condition.
The driver finally glanced at him, “Then we definitely can’t stop. There’s a medical station up the mountain, we’ll be there in half an hour, but it will take four hours to go down.”
Unexpectedly, the tour guide spoke up, “You Que, why don’t we pull over and let him get off first?”
Lin Kong nodded repeatedly, “Yes, yes, just stop the car first.”
He was only thinking of buying time.
The driver directly refused, “I’ve told you, we can’t stop on the curves.”
He slightly pressed the accelerator, and the speed increased a little compared to before, perhaps in an attempt to reach the medical station sooner.
Lin Kong was startled, “Damn it, don’t drive so fast!”
In a flurry, Lin Kong grabbed the railing and tried to argue with the driver, but unexpectedly, the other passengers misunderstood and thought he was trying to grab the steering wheel. A young man in white with black hair, quick as lightning, grabbed Lin Kong’s right hand and executed a small wrist lock, slamming him against the car window with a “thud.”
“Hey, don’t grab the steering wheel, it’s dangerous,” the young man said.
Lin Kong’s face was pressed against the window, now contorted, and he muttered something incomprehensible: “***!”
The young man in white leaned in, puzzled, and asked, “What did you say?”
Lin Kong cursed, “Damn it! Who’s trying to grab the steering wheel! You better make him stop the car, or we’re all going to die!”
The young man frowned. “What nonsense are you talking? Why would we die? If we stop the car, it’ll be even more dangerous. Cars could crash into us from behind at any moment.”
“Just let go of me first!”
Lin Kong tried to struggle, but the young man smacked his head back against the window again with a thud. “No. I’ll let you go after we get off the bus.”
AAAHHHHH!!
Lin Kong was fuming like a rabid dog. “F**k your grandpa!”
Support me on ko-fi for more additional updates~ ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ
![The Rebirth of the Last Days and Return to [Fang] Hao](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/image_2021-09-11_143139.png "The Rebirth of the Last Days and Return to [Fang] Hao")
You should’ve not said that hahhaha his grandpa is right there