Chapter 65

Xu Yang had no idea that the Liu family was currently discussing him; at this moment, he was already fast asleep.

Blood stained Bei Liu’s face, bright red and fresh, and he continued to cough up more with every painful spasm. Each cough sent searing agony through his body, as if something inside him was being torn apart. The pain kept his mind clear, but his body refused to move.

Carl had always been fascinated by the study of death. For his so-called Void Theory, he did not hesitate to wipe out all life on several planets.

According to ancient Chinese legend, Mount Tai could crush the heavens, signifying immense weight and power. The word for “cauldron” sounds similar to “top” in Chinese, and in antiquity, the cauldron symbolized heaviness—especially literal weight. There was the famous tale of the Overlord lifting the cauldron, and countless others, all attesting that a cauldron was an emblem of great weight.

With practiced ease, Crane Fan unfurled the wings on his back, lifted his head slightly, and soared upward. In an instant, he became a streak of light, piercing through the atmosphere and vanishing into the sky.

The only one who had not rested was Richard. He patiently checked on each of his followers, paying particular attention to Daimei. As Richard approached Shuifa, Daimei stared blankly at his back, unable to keep from thinking: is this what it means to be a leader?

That day, Xia Bing once again brought Xia Yu with her. Of all those above him, these two were the ones to whom Xu Yang showed the most civility. Their intentions might not be pure, but at least they were genuinely amicable. After all, one should never strike a smiling face—this was a rule he lived by.

Now, with Xiao Tie present, others might not notice anything unusual, nor recognize him. But to a Supreme, Xiao Tie’s identity would be plain as day. And once it was revealed, trouble was sure to follow.

People only voiced mild complaints, but Old Sang’s retorts were unmatched. His tongue was as thick as the city walls, capable of talking the dead back to life and convincing the living of their own demise.

He remembered that after the liberation, the night before Old Gongshu departed, Old Tang had no idea what was coming. That night, the old man drank heavily. Old Tang recalled him saying he was a descendant of Lu Ban, and lamenting his failure to live up to his ancestors. The next day, he vanished. It was at Old Gongshu’s house that Old Tang saw those four chests for the first time.

“Stop them!” The warriors on the forest’s side were determined not to let the others pass. They formed a human wall, standing firm to block any charge.

A single spark, like a cold gleam at first, gradually swelled, transforming into a storm of starry arrows shooting across the sky. These arrows, as if forged by gods, tore through the heavens, bringing with them a world-shattering fury, and surged toward Ling Tianyun with a violent, terrifying momentum.

“Senior Mu, good morning!” Shi Jingtian rose to his feet, stretching his muscles lightly. He felt remarkably refreshed, as though a single night’s rest had restored him greatly, clearing his mind and soothing his body.

After the hoarse voice faded, the rustling of the surroundings began anew. In the open heights above, a hundred black-clad men wielding blades suddenly charged at Qin Chen’s group. The white-bearded old man, his spear poised like a silver dragon, pointed straight at Ling Liang, his face serious, all traces of earlier caution gone.

Lone Peak, who had once slain rogue cultivators of the Perfection Realm, was now blown away with a single palm strike by Lin Yun.

“Hahaha, so this is how it is! All will turn to nothing—Nightshade Palace, the City of Eternal Frost, even the entire Far North will be reduced to ashes!” Feeling the overwhelming force of destruction, Maomei burst into manic laughter, shouting wildly as if overtaken by madness.

What should he do? What was going on? How had this turned into a lifelong commitment? Long Yang’s head spun—he couldn’t refuse Bai Lan, but accepting her was out of the question too.

Tie Cheng shook his head in resignation. Both Li Siguang and Dong Fei were straightforward people. Liu Zhang must have anticipated that they would know something; he would certainly be more cautious henceforth, making any weakness even harder to spot.

Ling Feng, who knew Long Yang best, was at a loss. Zhu Hongyuan, Long Yang’s best friend in Dongyan, was also helpless. If even they had no solution, who would?

Such a person would attract attention no matter where she went; nearly every pair of eyes at the scene was fixed on her.

Terek distinctly remembered that Creepers never stopped exploding from such a short distance. Could it be that this Creeper was some special creature?

With a single movement, her arms pulled free of the monster’s body, trailing swathes of silvery light. Even the creature’s unending noise faltered for a moment.

“Sixty percent is still too little—make it seventy,” Wen Taian insisted. “The funds required for research and construction will only increase!”

Under his gaze, not far ahead, a thin gray line entered his field of vision.

What should she say next? Honestly, she understood nothing about this place. Even if she wanted to change the subject, she had no idea where to steer the conversation. She could only remain awkwardly at a loss.

It had been more than two years since its founding, yet due to time constraints, no one had advanced to the rank of First-class Secret Keeper, though there were quite a few Second-class.

With the main events resolved, Zhu Yunshang could finally rest early. The coming days would be filled with endless matters to attend to.

Without further ado, Zhongli strode forward and tore down the wanted poster pinned to the city wall.

But even being able to ask was impressive. Whether others wanted to see you, or answer your questions, was another matter entirely.

Three years of practice, unity of action and thought, self-reflection—those in Qionghai’s upper ranks no longer needed Zhu Yunshang to broaden their horizons. It was enough to keep the direction steady.

Time flew by; around the Sword Lodge, cottages sprang up one after another, gradually forming a pattern reminiscent of the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams.

Mo Di’s jaw dropped so wide he couldn’t close it. The first event was expected, but the second took him completely by surprise. It was as if the ancestral tombs of Qu Shounian’s family were billowing with smoke—two promotions in two months, from division commander to army commander, while he himself, having stepped down from regimental command, still had no idea where he’d end up.

At the main base in the southern district, security was tighter than ever. The number of sentries, both overt and covert, had doubled, and patrols intersected constantly as they paced back and forth.

There was no air in the water, but Wu Qingtao’s cultivation allowed him to hold his breath for an hour or two without any problem.