Die, Replay, Repeat-Chapter 344 - Cosmos Devouring

Having the strength to wreck everything isn’t what’s truly frightening. It’s being ready to do it without a second thought that chills the bone.

The survivors of the Land Between weren’t newbies—they’d fought through years in this nightmare, honing their instincts to a fine edge.

Of course, they thought they had Fang Xiu figured out. He was flexing, they reckoned, pushing for a better spot at the table.

They guessed he found their money demands too steep, so he was showing some muscle to scare them off. Maybe he’d even turn it around and ask for cash instead.

To them, it was all a big show. No way he’d go all-in on a fight that’d leave everyone in pieces.

By any normal measure, Fang Xiu was already winning. Two of their crew were down—he hadn’t lost much to hate them over. No real bad blood, no cause to burn it all down just for kicks.

Plus, everyone in the Land Between wanted the same thing: escape. That meant keeping enough people breathing to pile up Spirit Money together.

Lu Ziming and the others stood on solid ground, thinking like anyone with a heartbeat would.

Too bad the world doesn’t always follow the script—and Fang Xiu was a wild card.

He wasn’t playing games. If it came to wiping everyone out, he’d just climb back up from the wreckage of countless Specters. That was the hand the Land Between had dealt him.

Then, out of nowhere, Lu Ziming and his team hit back.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

BOOM!

A rush of Spiritual Energy swept the field, the air snapping with wild sparks.

Lu Ziming launched himself up, boots pounding the dirt as he swung his twin swords in a brutal slash.

The air ripped apart like thin cloth, and a dazzling burst of Mindflare shot from his blades, tearing skyward like a volcano erupting.

Right then, the chubby middle-aged guy moved too. His right hand flicked, pulling a brush from thin air.

With a few quick strokes, he drew a massive mountain into being midair, its heavy presence pulsing with strength as it barreled down to smash Taotie.

The rest jumped in, their attacks syncing up tight—nine psychics hitting as one, dead-set on wiping out the beast.

The combined strike was earth-shaking, a blast so fierce it could’ve turned even a Class-S Specter to ash.

Fang Xiu didn’t blink.

“Cosmos Devouring,” he murmured, his voice low and sharp, like he couldn’t care less.

At his words, something nasty kicked to life on Taotie’s huge body. Its rotting flesh started to twist, curling into a spinning vortex.

In a flash, a bloody, meaty mouth ripped open across its side, dragging everything toward it with a pull so strong it felt like a black hole.

Lu Ziming’s sword blast, the chubby guy’s mountain, every bit of their attack—it didn’t just stumble. It got sucked in.

Like stars caught in a cosmic tide, all their power disappeared into that flesh pit without a ripple.

The battlefield went dead quiet.

Shock hit the group hard, their faces going white as the truth sank in.

“No way…” one of them muttered, voice shaking.

“It ate everything? Even Mindflare? How’s that—”

This wasn’t some basic Taotie projection. Five of them had fused, powered by the guts of almost four million eaten Specters.

That juice brought this monster nearer to its real self—not fully there, not even close, but near enough to grab a taste of its real strength.

As the group staggered in disbelief, Taotie’s huge, decaying body started to move again. Its rotting flesh swelled up, bulging like a mess of soaked sores about to pop.

Lu Ziming’s eyes sparked with a sudden burst of hope. “Look at that! I told you! Nothing can just eat all our attacks like it’s nothing—he’s about to crack!”

The others perked up too, their faces lighting up like they could already see the beast tearing apart.

And for a second, it seemed they were onto something.

The swollen spots on Taotie burst one after another, foul chunks splattering down like a nasty downpour. It looked ready to fall apart completely.

But Fang Xiu’s face didn’t change—not even a flicker of worry showed.

“Typical,” he muttered, almost like he was talking to himself. “Five Taotie projections can only take so much. Alright then—let’s toss it back at you.”

With a quick thought, he flipped the swirling flesh pit on Taotie’s front. A blazing streak of sword energy shot out first, followed by the huge mountain the chubby guy had drawn.

Then the rest came flying—every attack they’d thrown, hurled back at them in a fierce, nonstop storm.

Their faces twisted in panic as their own moves turned on them, hitting with full strength.

“Get out of there!”

“Move it, now!”

“What even is this thing?!”

“Argh!”

Screams and wild yells cut through the air as they darted to dodge. The weaker fourth-tier psychics got hit hardest—some dropped right away, battered and bleeding. The rest either dove for safety or threw up shaky shields.

It wasn’t hard to see why their own attacks stung. A guy might swing hard enough to bust a punching bag, but that doesn’t mean he can take the same blow. Same deal here.

The fourth-tiers were shaken, their nerve fading fast. The three fifth-tiers—Lu Ziming among them—stood with dark, grim faces, taking in the mess.

Lu Ziming shot a look at the other two, his voice low and rough. “Tong Yang, Wen Jinglong, if you don’t bring some serious heat, this kid’s gonna end up owning the Land Between.”

He was still hurting from earlier and wasn’t about to go full throttle himself.

Tong Yang, the middle-aged fat guy with the brush, let out a grudging breath. “I really didn’t want to burn my Spiritual Energy like this.”

Wen Jinglong, the lean guy with sharp features who’d spoken up first, squinted at Taotie. “This Specter’s tough, no question—but it’s got limits. Our last round almost split it open. If we hit it harder, pump in more Spiritual Energy, it’ll break for sure.”

Tong Yang gave a slow nod. “Guess we’re stuck. Gotta spend some juice to school the new kid. If we don’t knock him down now, who knows what trouble he’ll kick up later.”

With that, they rounded up their teams and got moving.

Tong Yang lifted his brush again, but this time he didn’t go for quick scribbles. His hand danced through the air, drawing fast, crazy lines that flared a dark red under the thrum of Spiritual Energy.

Stroke by stroke, the glowing threads twisted together, shaping into a giant dragon.

“Dragon—rise!” he shouted, jabbing his brush forward like a lance. The tip struck where the dragon’s eye would sit.

In that moment, the blood-red beast snapped to life.

A bone-rattling roar tore through the sky, its deep, wild call shaking the earth like it’d been dragged up from some long-forgotten pit.

Translator's note: Four million Specters already? I think they need less than a month to get out of the place.