The world continued its descent into unprecedented chaos, qi storms raging, the old order crumbling. Wushuang's three avatars maintained their omnipresent, silent watch, while Ling'er, now a powerful cultivator, stood as Wushuang's only confidante, their only equal in this broken, chaotic world. The consumption of the rogue "Niánmei" had been a victory, but a costly one, leaving Wushuang's female avatar with a doubled voice, a constant reminder of the internal battle.
Now, it was time for the final, devastating blow against the remnants of the old order. Wushuang turned their attention to Heifeng Cheng, the capital city, once the heart of the sect system, now a desperate, fortified bastion. It was here that the last vestiges of matriarchal power had gathered, clinging to their shattered authority.
Wushuang unleashed the full might of the Saint's Maw.
The grotesque entity, a writhing, multi-limbed horror forged from the absorbed essences of failed prototypes, descended upon Heifeng Cheng like a living plague. Its skin, a patchwork of pale, beautiful faces, now began to twist and mutate further. As it moved, it absorbed the residual qi and fragmented consciousness of the city's fallen cultivators, growing larger, more monstrous. The faces on its body began to shift, taking on the visages of past sect leaders, their eyes burning with a collective, agonizing hunger.
The Maw was not indiscriminate. It moved with a terrifying intelligence, commanded by Wushuang's will. It specifically targeted the fortified strongholds of the remaining matriarchs, its grotesque forms tearing through spiritual defenses as if they were made of paper. The city's defenders, once formidable, were now overwhelmed by the sheer, horrifying power of the Maw, which used their own absorbed techniques against them.
The Maw mutated further, using the faces of the absorbed sect leaders to command their own armies. Spectral figures, imbued with the qi of their former masters, rose from the ground, fighting against their own kind, a grotesque display of absorbed power and ultimate betrayal. It was a chaotic, devastating assault, turning the very foundations of the city against itself.
Wushuang, their fused form shimmering with an unsettling power, appeared amidst the chaos, moving through the carnage with a chilling composure. They sought out the most defiant of the surviving Matriarchs, those who still clung to their power, their pride.
They found them huddled in a grand hall, their faces pale with terror, their qi flickering with desperate defiance. Wushuang personally executed them, not with a swift blow, but with a chilling, intimate ritual. They offered each Matriarch a "rebirth" choice: consume Wushuang's qi, becoming a part of their evolving essence, or be utterly erased, reduced to ash, their spiritual legacy wiped clean.
Those who accepted, their faces contorted in agony and desperate hope, were consumed by Wushuang's qi, their bodies undergoing a grotesque transformation. Their skin would ripple, their features subtly shift, becoming a part of Wushuang's collective, their consciousness absorbed into the vast, multiplexed being. They would live, but as echoes, as fragments of Wushuang's power, forever bound to their will.
Those who refused, their eyes burning with defiance, were reduced to ash, their spiritual essence utterly annihilated, leaving no trace, no legacy. The air filled with the sharp tang of burning spirit and the faint, mournful cries of the dying.
Wushuang's new form of punishment by rebirth, reshaping the very essence of their enemies, was absolute. The Saint's Maw devoured the capital, and Wushuang devoured its leaders, cementing their terrifying reign over a world that had broken its knees.