Vast Sea, solitary island.
Du Longyang stood motionless like an ancient statue, aura restrained and cryptic.
His brows were tightly knitted—shock, fury, worry, and helpless bitterness all swirled in his eyes.
From high above, Prince Tianxu and Ye Shoudao, who had been watching his tribulation, exchanged puzzled glances.
“What the hell… is this dog trying to show off?”
Prince Tianxu pinched a tiny flying sword between two fingers and asked Ye Shoudao, frowning.
They had dreamed of reaching the Three Divine Realms their whole lives. Why was Du Longyang acting like the world was ending the moment he broke through?
Who was he performing for?
Ye Shoudao shook his head. Something felt off.
“With City Lord Du’s personality, he wouldn’t fake it… Breaking through to the Three Divine Realms must have let him see something we can’t.”
“Something terrifying.”
Ye Shoudao’s mind worked fast.
Du Longyang had looked up at the sky earlier, eyes filled with shock and rage.
There had to be a secret hidden beyond the clouds.
“No way,” Prince Tianxu insisted, swinging his little sword seriously. “He’s just flexing in front of me to look cool!”
Ye Shoudao ignored him.
Suddenly—
His empty sleeve fluttered as if caught by a terrifying gale.
His expression changed—pure shock.
He whipped his head toward the heavens.
RUMBLE!
A second sun seemed to ignite in the sky.
“What is that?!”
Ye Shoudao’s voice trembled.
“Another sun?” Prince Tianxu blinked, confused.
Then his face drained of color.
“No… there’s already one sun!”
BOOM!
An overwhelming aura detonated high above.
Laughter rolled like endless thunder, shaking heaven and earth.
The pressure warped space itself.
“Who goes there?!”
Ye Shoudao and Prince Tianxu unleashed their auras in unison, staring upward.
The golden light faded, revealing a figure beneath the blazing false sun.
A youth in fitted robes, cradling a compass etched with strange, unreadable runes.
“Who are you?!” Prince Tianxu shouted, heart pounding at the suffocating pressure.
“Me?”
The youth’s smile was carved perfection.
He looked down at Prince Tianxu like a hunter who had already won.
“Fu Tianluo, Lord of Tianluo Continent. Just passing by—thought I’d pay a friendly visit.”
His spiritual sense pulsed; in an instant, his words synced with their language.
“Tianluo Continent?!”
Ye Shoudao and Prince Tianxu’s minds reeled.
An invader from another world?!
Fu Tianluo’s smile widened as his gaze slid past them to the black-robed spearman on the island below.
“Well, well… speak of the devil.”
His smile vanished.
He turned into a streak of golden light and dove straight for Du Longyang.
“STOP!”
Ye Shoudao roared.
Du Longyang was still basking in Origin feedback—any interruption could have disastrous consequences.
He drew his blade—mind, body, and spirit fused into one colossal slash that threatened to split the heavens.
But Fu Tianluo paused mid-dive.
Golden runes crawled across his finger as he pointed casually.
Crack…
Ye Shoudao’s blade shattered like glass.
“A little weak.”
Fu Tianluo glanced at him.
“Mere Infant Transformation…”
Golden runes spiraled around his feet.
BOOM!
Afterimages blurred.
He reappeared right in front of Ye Shoudao.
That golden finger thrust downward.
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Ye Shoudao’s instincts screamed death.
He raised his black blade across his chest.
Pfft!
The blade was pierced clean through.
A beam of golden energy exploded out his back.
Ye Shoudao froze—then plummeted into the sea, sending up a towering wave.
Shwick shwick shwick!
Sword qi screamed in.
Fu Tianluo tilted his head—just half a beat too slow.
A single strand of hair was sliced off.
He caught it, watching the glossy strand sparkle.
His smile disappeared entirely.
He looked up at Prince Tianxu far away.
Prince Tianxu sat cross-legged in the air.
A wooden box lay open before him—rows of tiny swords neatly arranged.
He flicked a finger.
Sword after sword shot out like plucked strings, growing massive mid-flight.
“Cut!”
Prince Tianxu roared.
Enormous blades slashed down.
Golden runes spun rapidly in Fu Tianluo’s pupils, forming a spherical golden shield.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Every sword struck the barrier and shattered harmlessly.
Fu Tianluo’s face turned ice-cold.
“You dared cut a single hair?!”
He slammed his palm onto the compass.
Click click click…
Gears turned inside.
Countless runes crawled up his arm.
He struck toward Prince Tianxu.
BOOM!
A colossal golden palm, bathed in Buddhist chants, expanded in the sky.
Prince Tianxu hurled every remaining sword.
All exploded on contact.
The golden palm tore forward unstoppable.
Air itself screamed and shattered.
Prince Tianxu smelled death.
This youth was far beyond Infant Transformation!
Suddenly—
His trembling body stilled.
The terrifying pressure was blocked.
Du Longyang in black robes now hovered before him.
One-handed, spear raised, holding back the golden palm.
The shaft bent dangerously under the force.
Yet Du Longyang’s face remained calm.
“Sent by that Buddha from the High Martial Buddha Realm, I presume?”
His voice was flat.
“Oh? You even know about the Venerable One.”
Fu Tianluo laughed.
“So the one who destroyed the Buddha seed really was you.”
“You’re the lord of this plane who dared defy him.”
He had no doubt.
Only the plane lord could be the strongest.
If the lord wasn’t the strongest, what was the point?
So—subdue him, and the world was his.
Though both were Spirit Severing…
Fu Tianluo’s smile returned.
He would show Du Longyang the gap between Spirit Severing cultivators.
---
The Empress shot through the Yinglong Dragon Gate, emerging from the Red Dragon Gate.
The Nascent Soul guarding it paled at the sight of her.
He opened his mouth to greet her—
She ignored him completely and blasted toward the Vast Sea.
The guard blinked in confusion.
Buzhou Peak.
Zhulong sat on a bluestone slab, breathing in what seemed like primordial chaos energy.
Her long lashes fluttered.
She turned her flawless face eastward—toward the Vast Sea.
An extremely powerful and terrifying aura had erupted there.
“Invader?”
Her brows furrowed.
She stood gracefully, bamboo flute tucked at her waist.
After a moment’s thought, black hair dancing in the wind, she stepped into the Dragon Gate.
She emerged from the Red Dragon Gate.
The guarding Nascent Soul froze.
He stared at the blindfolded girl.
The Demoness of Buzhou Peak!
Why was she back in Dongyang?!
Zhulong paid him no mind and walked straight out.
Far away, the Red Dragon—who had just failed another evolution attempt and was licking its wounds—felt Big Sis’s aura and spiraled over instantly.
Zhulong turned her closed eyes toward it.
“If only you were as slick as Little Qing.”
The Red Dragon let out a low, wronged roar.
Zhulong said nothing more.
She mounted the dragon and shot toward the Vast Sea.
---
Origin Lake, Heart Island.
“Zhulong’s coming too.”
Lu Ping’an smiled. “Good. Perfect sparring partner.”
“A real Spirit Severing expert doesn’t come along every day.”
In his eyes, the youth was nothing but a tool—a very useful one.
A whetstone for Zhulong, Du Longyang, and the others.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t disappoint me.”
Lu Ping’an leaned back in his Thousand-Bladed Chair, chin on his hand, voice soft.
---
Outside Wuhuang Continent.
The hulking brute and the white-robed monk had returned to their continents, frowning deeply.
That formation was clearly set by a High Martial sovereign.
They had stumbled into a clash between two High Martial powers.
What now?
In a game between sovereigns, pawns like them could be discarded at any moment.
But they couldn’t just leave.
They had seen the Buddha lotus light from the destroyed seed.
Ignoring the Venerable One’s command meant courting death.
“This is too damn hard…”
Both sighed.
Yet neither turned away.
“That formation was placed by a High Martial sovereign, but our probes showed no one beyond early Spirit Severing inside.”
“The sovereign isn’t here—just left the formation.”
“Maybe this world has some incredible treasure?”
Their eyes met across the void.
Their theory made sense.
Why else would two High Martial Buddha Realm sovereigns fight over it?
The moment they thought of treasure, they remembered Fu Tianluo—who had already slipped inside.
Only one newborn Spirit Severing expert in there.
Fu Tianluo would crush him.
If Fu Tianluo claimed whatever treasure the sovereigns were after…
He would surpass them.
Unacceptable.
Both grew restless—they had to break through the formation.
---
Beiluo City Martial Field.
After the individual round, the crowd grew noisy again.
Soon—the team battle began.
Ten versus ten.
The field was vast, plenty of room for formations.
Zhao Zixu stepped back onto the stage, spear in hand, emotions turbulent.
He looked across.
Lu Jiulian was surrounded by layers of Academy students.
As expected—their entire plan revolved around him.
The mere thought of Lu Jiulian made Zhao Zixu’s chest tighten.
A perfect human being—no flaws in cultivation.
How could such a person exist?!
But his mission was simple: keep Lu Jiulian occupied.
Ni Yu announced the start.
The atmosphere sharpened instantly.
Ten Xiang Family soldiers in clanging armor marched forward.
“KILL!”
They charged!
Zhao Zixu shot forward like the wind, spear on his back.
He would wash away his earlier shame!
ROAR!
Flames burned in his eyes.
His spear thrust forward, unstoppable, straight for Lu Jiulian.
The Academy students moved to block.
“Brothers, cover me!”
Several Xiang soldiers overtook him, shielding his advance.
Zhao Zixu saw only Lu Jiulian.
Outside the field, Xu Chu clenched his fists, grinning as Zhao Zixu broke through.
“Done.”
“Pin Lu Jiulian, and this round is ours.”
Perfect execution.
He glanced at Jiang Li—sure enough, the man looked grim.
Overlord smiled too.
Zhao Zixu charged straight for the heart, unshaken by his earlier loss.
Good seed.
The worst outcome would have been a mental scar.
Dantai Xuan buried his face in his hands.
It’s over…
Once Lu Jiulian was tied down, the others would be picked apart.
This team battle was lost.
“One year of effort… gone.”
Mo Ju gently waved his feather fan.
“Your Majesty, it’s not over yet. General Jiang is a master of military tactics. Whatever Xu Chu can see, Jiang Li saw three moves ago.”
---
Everyone believed the Academy was finished.
Lu Jiulian was pinned.
The remaining Xiang Family soldiers closed in like butchers raising cleavers.
A one-sided slaughter seemed imminent.
Victory tilted heavily toward Western Liang.
These rules were simply too unfair.
But then—
“Ha ha ha… Jiang Li, you sly bastard. To think he dug up such an ancient trick!”
“I’d nearly forgotten this technique existed. Never thought I’d see it shine again.”
“Old Mo brought all our Hundred Schools legacies into the Academy. Magnificent.”
“Though not long has passed, the cultivation world has forgotten the era of the Hundred Schools… and that there once existed a school called the Yin-Yang School.”
Mo Beike, Lü Dongxuan, Xie Yunling, and the other ancients of the Hundred Schools stroked their beards and laughed.
Only they saw clearly.
On the field—
Zhao Zixu finally reached “Lu Jiulian.”
He didn’t fight head-on—he knew how terrifying true perfection was.
His job was just to stall.
But if he didn’t attack, Lu Jiulian would.
Because Lu Jiulian was the Academy’s only hope.
BOOM!
Spear met sword.
Hm?
Zhao Zixu frowned.
Something was wrong.
This sword… lacked the terrifying pressure from before.
He tested a counterattack.
“Lu Jiulian” blocked everything.
But—
Zhao Zixu’s expression changed.
“You’re not Lu Jiulian!”
He roared, spear lashing out—three blinding thrusts.
“Lu Jiulian” gave a strange smile, then spat blood, sent flying several meters.
Zhao Zixu stepped forward three times, spear at the throat, and ripped.
A human-skin mask came off in his hand.
Beneath—pale, terrified youth.
“Yin-Yang School’s disguise art?!”
Zhao Zixu’s mind exploded.
And in the distance—
Yes, it was a one-sided slaughter.
But the ones being slaughtered were the Xiang Family soldiers.
The real Lu Jiulian carved through them like a god of war.
One step, one sword, one defeat.
Nine strokes.
Nine Xiang Family soldiers collapsed, combat capability gone.
Lu Jiulian turned, removed his own mask.
Eight Academy students stood behind him.
All ten stared calmly at Zhao Zixu.
