412 Immortal Sage

412 Immortal Sage

I opened my eyes to the muted glow of spirit-lamps diffused through silk walls. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and ironed linen. I found myself seated on a well-crafted chair, its armrests carved with flowing cloud motifs, the kind meant to project comfort without ever feeling indulgent.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose and exhaled slowly.

I had just spoken with the rest of the Six Path souls—well, five of them.

The Ghost Path soul had vanished without warning, severed outright, leaving the rest of us reeling. If he had truly perished, fragments of his final moments should have surged through our shared consciousness. Yet there was nothing, not even a trace, and that emptiness unsettled me more than confirmation ever could.

“To look so troubled after meditating,” a voice beside me said mildly, “one would think the heavens themselves had collapsed.”

Shouquan sat to my right, relaxed, one leg crossed over the other. Steam curled lazily from the porcelain teacup in his hand. He sipped as though we were discussing weather patterns rather than the unraveling of metaphysical constants. His eyes, sharp and old despite his calm posture, were fixed on me.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

I lowered my hand and leaned back into the chair. “No,” I said evenly. “Everything will be fine.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “That,” he replied, setting the cup down with deliberate care, “is precisely the problem.”

I glanced at him. “You asked. I answered.”

Shouquan snorted. “Your optimism borders on negligence. Let us count, shall we?” He lifted one finger. “Your main body has been kidnapped.” Another finger rose. “The Heavenly Temple’s armies are trampling our peripheral forces like weeds.” A third. “The Martial Alliance is responding as though the escalation were a distant rumor rather than a present catastrophe.” A fourth. “And now this ambitious operation, where you are meant to lead, but now, you are being distracted..”

He leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “Yet you sit here, claiming all will be fine.”

I met his gaze without flinching. “I’m not being laidback.”

“Then what are you?”

“Calm,” I said. “There’s a difference.”

He scoffed. “Words.”

“If I lose my composure now,” I continued, my voice steady, “we’ll start reacting instead of thinking. And mistakes made in panic are the kind that can’t be corrected later.”

Silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the soft crackle of a spirit-lamp. Shouquan studied me for a long moment, then leaned back again.

“Hmph,” he muttered. “You always did have a talent for sounding reasonable while standing on a cliff’s edge.”

Of course, Shouquan knew about the kidnapping of my main body. As irritating as the old man could be, his abilities were genuine. His sight pierced flesh, matter, and illusion alike, peering directly into the soul of anyone or anything before him. When the time came to infiltrate the Promised Land, the very heart of the Heavenly Temple, that talent would prove invaluable.

Annoying or not, he was a blade I couldn’t afford to dull.

A subtle pressure brushed against my senses, a courteous restraint at the edge of the tent’s entrance. Moments later, a polite voice followed.

“May we enter?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Come in.”

The tent flaps parted.

Three figures stepped inside.

The first was Dave. White armor enveloped him from head to toe, immaculate and austere, fashioned in a knightly aesthetic that emphasized symmetry and purpose. His helm was closed, featureless save for thin slits where eyes would be. He shared my face beneath that helm, since he was my Holy Spirit, and my alter-ego given form. We’d be better off hiding his face in the duration of this operation.

Beside him walked Tao Long, his presence heavier and draconic. Dark blue armor formed from his own scales hugged his frame, each plate etched with faint runic veins. Resting against his shoulder was the great spear Drakon-Mar, its shaft humming softly as if alive.

The third was unfamiliar.

Zi Cheng.

He wore light armor, practical rather than ornate, and cradled a sheathed sword in his arms with an almost intimate care. His appearance was that of a middle-aged man, eyes slightly drooping, expression unreadable in its neutrality.

Dave stopped first and performed a crisp knightly salute. “Salutations to the Holy Emperor.”

Tao Long followed, cupping his fist. “The Ward and the Adventurer’s Guild are grateful for the assistance the Holy Empire has provided.”

I frowned slightly. “There’s no need for formalities.”

My gaze drifted to Zi Cheng, and understanding settled in. Of course. One of the Seven Warlords. One of the heads of the Union. Appearances mattered here.

I often forgot that I no longer stood in a place where I could act entirely as I pleased.

Zi Cheng stepped forward, cupped his fist, and bowed. “The Union is thankful for the assistance that Tao Long and Sir Dave provided in uprooting the traitors within our ranks.”

His voice was calm, measured. “During Tao Long’s loyalty trials, Sir Dave stood as his second. Events escalated… and they ultimately aided my master in purging internal corruption. I thank you sincerely from the bottom of my heart, your Holy Majesty, for the contribution that this two brave heroes provided are as much your own as there achievements.”

“It was only natural to help an ally in need.”

I smiled cordially, thinking his ass-kissing was quite good.

The Union was known for its decentralization, a loose collection of powers bound by convenience rather than command. That was the image presented to the world, chaotic yet resilient. The truth, however, was far more controlled. There was someone above the Seven Warlords, a figure they answered to in silence, and that secret was the reason the Union endured despite its apparent disorder.

I would never have learned of it if not for the pressure the Heavenly Temple brought down upon all of us. Crises had a way of peeling away disguises.

“I understand you were already aware of traitors among the Seven Warlords,” I said calmly, my gaze resting on Zi Cheng. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have used Tao Long the way you did, elevating a new warlord and placing him where fault lines were most likely to surface.”

Zi Cheng remained silent, but I continued before he could respond. “There was a time Dave became a warlord by possessing Mao Xian. The Sacred Sword, remember? I imagine your leader intended to use Mao Xian as bait, to draw the traitors into the open. But you waited too long, and Dave chose to siege the Nameless City instead, abandoning the position of warlord altogether in the process.”

Zi Cheng finally spoke, his tone measured. “The Union meant no ill intent—”

“Enough,” Shouquan cut in sharply, his voice cold. “He is not speaking to you.”

I nodded in agreement, my eyes narrowing slightly. “You shouldn’t hide behind your subordinate.”

A brief, awkward laugh echoed from behind Zi Cheng. The air rippled, and a young man with a scholarly appearance stepped out as if he had always been there, folding a fan lazily at his side. Zi Cheng stiffened and immediately bowed.

“Master,” Zi Cheng said, clearly startled. “What are you doing here?”

The young man smiled faintly. “I’ve always wanted to meet the man that stubborn Nongmin swore his loyalty to.”

I clicked my tongue lightly. “Rude. Shouldn’t you be introducing yourself first?”

He tilted his head, amused. “What use would that be when you already know me?”

“So I can offer you a seat,” I replied, gesturing toward the only remaining chair.

He laughed softly and sat without hesitation, posture languid. “Very well,” he said. “Mo Yu, Immortal Sage.”

“I apologize if this sounds discourteous,” I said, studying him closely, “but for such a domineering title, why haven’t I heard of you?”

My gaze sharpened as I sensed his cultivation. Eleventh Realm, Perfect Immortal. In the Hollowed World, that realm was cursed. Anyone who reached it here should have gone mad long ago, their soul eroded beyond repair. Yet Mo Yu’s eyes were clear, his aura stable, his presence composed.

It didn’t make sense.

Had he cultivated using a method I didn’t know, or had he reached that realm beyond the Hollowed World and returned afterward? As far as I knew, that was the only safe path, and the man before me carried far too many answers he had yet to give.

Shouquan faked a cough, drawing the room’s attention with deliberate subtlety. “Mo Yu stands in the same generation as Nongmin,” he said evenly. “One could even call him Nongmin’s rival, the scholar-warrior of Steel Mountain.”

Mo Yu waved his fan once, unimpressed. “I didn’t take you for someone who kept his ears to the ground, listening to tales of masters and experts,” he said, eyes flicking toward me. “Your majesty, there is no need to concern of my history…”

“Don’t mind me. I’m trying to learn humility lately,” I replied without hesitation. “Getting to know people more powerful and prestigious than me ought to teach me more humility. As you can see, I’m shit at it, but effort counts.”

He laughed openly, the sound light and unguarded. “I can appreciate candid and crass language. It’s refreshing.”

“I hope I’m not being a nuisance,” a woman’s voice said from the tent entrance.

We turned as a green-haired woman stepped inside, clad in fitted armor marked with the sigils of the Martial Alliance. Her bearing was firm, her gaze steady. The current acting Master of the Martial Alliance needed no further introduction.

“I’m glad you could join us,” I said, inclining my head.

Shouquan rose from his seat without a word and stepped aside. I gestured toward the vacated chair. “Please, Tan Jin, have a seat.”

She did, her posture straight, eyes never leaving me. “You didn’t gather us here for pleasantries,” she said. “There must be a reason.”

“There is,” I replied. “And while I’d prefer we get to know each other better, there’s a more pressing matter.”

I turned slightly and raised my hand. “Everyone else, leave the tent.”

There was no hesitation. Dave, Tao Long, Zi Cheng, and Shouquan withdrew in silence, the curtains falling back into place behind them. The air felt heavier once we were alone.

I took a slow breath. “We’re canceling the operation.”

Tan Jin’s brows knitted instantly. “No,” she said flatly. “Even with my house in disorder, I brought the strongest and most loyal warriors the Martial Alliance has. I came prepared to go through hell and back to put the Heavenly Temple in its place.” Her eyes hardened. “You’d better have a good reason for even suggesting this.”

Mo Yu leaned back, interest gleaming in his eyes. “I’m curious as well,” he said. “You were the one who gathered this loose alliance, who pushed to become chief of operations. Why cancel it now?”

I met their gazes one by one before speaking. “Authority was entrusted to me,” I said calmly. “I am exercising it. The mission is over. As for why? I can’t tell you…”

I did not tell them the truth. I could not say that every instinct I had was screaming that this path ended in ruin, that something unseen was waiting beyond the next step. A bad feeling was not a justification leaders could afford, even when it was the only one that mattered.

Mo Yu’s smile thinned as the atmosphere tightened, his presence sharpening until it felt as though invisible swords scraped across my skin like fine needles. “Do you take me for a pushover?” he asked quietly, though the question carried weight enough to press against my chest.

Tan Jin drew a slow breath and spoke before I could answer. “While I owe you greatly, and I do not forget that you are my benefactor, I have to remind you of the stakes, and there's a lot. I would continue trusting your word, Da Wei, but is this really the right move at this crucial moment?” she asked, her tone controlled but resolute. “Canceling this operation wastes a rare chance to strike the Heavenly Temple where it would truly hurt.”

She lifted her chin slightly, eyes burning with restrained fire. “They have no idea Shouquan is with us, someone capable of tearing open the Celestial Wall that shields their sacred land. That alone changes everything.”

Her words were not empty. We had gathered power carefully and deliberately. Experts from every faction stood ready, each no weaker than the Eighth Realm. The Guardians I brought numbered nearly a hundred, their cultivation a fusion of Legend Rank and the Seventh Realm, enough to let them strike at Eighth Realm opponents. With the faith sustained by my Immortal Art, they could fight far longer than reason allowed, giving our faction the largest standing force.

The Martial Alliance was no less fearsome. Tan Jin had brought only those I had personally vetted, warriors honed by blood and discipline. Most stood at the Eighth or Ninth Realm, and all were Grandmasters of martial arts, with a few having reached the level of Supreme Master. There were only a few dozen of them, but each was worth an army.

The Union, despite losing three of its Seven Warlords to betrayal, still retained terrifying strength. Tao Long, the Divine Dragon, stood with the Ward and the Adventurer’s Guild at his back. Zi Cheng, the Sword Sage, had brought his strongest disciples from the Sword Coalition, each no weaker than the Eighth Realm. The remaining two warlords were no less formidable. Kong Huang, the Karmic Flameruler, arrived with elite ascetic mercenaries from the Flame Brazier Palace, while Tang Lan, the Poison Queen, commanded her finest alchemists from the Jade Life Pagoda.

With forces like these, a precise strike could cripple the Heavenly Temple and halt the path toward a world-spanning war. Mo Yu himself was in no position to move freely after purging traitors from his organization, just as Tan Jin had only recently uprooted the spies embedded within the Martial Alliance. The Holy Empire was no different, still bleeding from the aftermath of civil war.

Yet despite all that, both leaders before me were willing to proceed. They believed, as I once did, that together we could change the course of the world.

I believed it too, until the Ghost Path soul vanished without leaving so much as an echo behind.

“I will be leaving with my people,” I said plainly. “We’ll retreat, secure our bases of operation, and shift to espionage. It worked before, even if the results are slower and far less spectacular. It is safer, and safety matters right now.”

Tan Jin’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing. “This isn’t like you,” she said, her voice tight. “You’re not the kind of person who would allow countless mortal lives to be lost in the aftermath of a war, especially one that could have been stopped at its source.”

I met her gaze without backing down. “You’re free to continue the operation without me,” I said evenly. “The Holy Empire will not interfere.”

The words landed harder than I intended. Tan Jin rose abruptly, her chair scraping softly against the ground, and turned away without another word. She walked toward the tent’s exit, her steps controlled but heavy, the curtains parting to let her pass.

Mo Yu exhaled and stood as well, his earlier amusement gone. “What a disappointment,” he said, shaking his head. “The Holy Emperor I heard of was a figure of resolve and greatness, not someone who shrank back at the decisive moment.”

I did not rise to the provocation. “That won’t work on me,” I replied calmly. “If you’re looking for someone else to impress, you’d be better off doing it somewhere else.”

At dawn, I stepped out of the tent and swept my sleeve, folding the entire structure into my pocket dimension. As the Asura Soul, retreat was never my instinct. There was a time when battle to the death was all I understood, back when I was a newly awakened soul, my thoughts crude and my sense of self barely formed. I had been little more than a child then, driven by impulse and hunger for conflict.

I was no longer that being. Experience had tempered me, forced me to understand what a single wrong decision could cost, not just to myself, but to everyone who stood behind me.

Before me stood the Guardians, assembled in perfect rank and file. They wore the latest iteration of Guardian Armor, modeled after the Phantom mech and refined with the technologies developed in New Willow. Black plating formed the base, layered with gold reinforcement, while white capes flowed behind them, each embedded with a complex formation bearing the Divine Word: Raise.

I had left Ding Shan in New Willow, and so the Guardians’ immediate superior stood beside me instead. The Three Constellation were unmistakable among the rest. Though they shared the same colors, their gear reflected their roles. Su Ai of the Hunter Constellation wore light armor, a long scarf replacing the standard cape. Li Feng of the Fighter Constellation stood bare-armed in sleeveless robes, a white headband tied firmly around his brow. Fu Wu of the Thinker Constellation wore armor closest to the standard issue, his presence calm and grounded.

Fu Wu stepped forward and bowed slightly. “Preparations are complete,” he reported, gesturing toward the horizon.

In the distance, three massive vessels hovered silently above the ground, their hulls gleaming as formation arrays activated beneath them. It was time to go home.

I swept my gaze across the camp, and the tension was impossible to miss. The Union’s side simmered with barely restrained hostility, especially from Kong Huang’s followers. The Karmic Flameruler had real stakes in the skirmishes and harassment around the Holy Empire, and our withdrawal cut directly against the blood already spilled. I imagined his emotions must be in conflict with us becoming suddenly allies and then not. I ignored the stares and turned away before resentment could turn into something uglier.

Joan and Dave approached just then, their arrival drawing a few curious glances. I inclined my head toward Joan. “I owe you an apology,” I said. “I pulled you here when you could have done far more within the Empire. You and Dave should’ve been free to focus on finding a way out of the Hollowed World and back to Losten.”

Joan shook her head without hesitation. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I’ve been impatient lately, short-tempered, and reckless.”

I frowned, the unease settling in my chest. “You don’t apologize without a reason,” I said. “What is it?”

She hesitated, and then exhaled. “I’ve been like that for over a century now. I learned it’s a useless emotion.” She reached into her sleeve, producing a scroll. “I received intelligence from the Night Blades and Shadow Clan cultivators,” she said. “They found a method to move freely out of the Hollowed World.”

She handed the scroll to me. I unfurled it, only to find the surface blank. No ink, no markings, nothing at all. I frowned deeper as mana flowed from my fingers, and invisible qi stirred, words slowly revealing themselves as shadows reacted.

I read in silence. The scroll spoke of a dark substance theorized to originate from the Dark Veil. As was already known among my inner circle, the world existed as an inverse sphere, its ground bound directly to a massive shell known as the Dark Veil. According to the intelligence, there was a location within the Promised Land where cultivators had dug so deep they reached it.

It seemed our intelligence forces had not been idle.

Joan watched me closely, unable to hide her excitement. “When do we begin the operation?” she asked.

Dave let out an awkward laugh beside her. “I tried telling her,” he said. “But I didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm.”

Joan turned to him, confused. “Telling me what?”

Her gaze followed his, landing on the assembled Guardians standing in full formation. Dave rubbed the back of his neck. “I just finished folding our tent,” he said lightly. “So… what time are we leaving?”

Joan’s expression hardened. “That’s not a funny joke,” she said sharply.

“I’m not joking,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “There’s a better way to approach the Dark Veil. Waging war against the Heavenly Temple with the forces we brought here isn’t the answer. I realized that too late.”

Her restraint snapped. “Why now?” she demanded, her voice rising. “Why hesitate now, when you’ve already killed three of the six highest elders? The Asura Seat, the Animal Seat, and the Ghost Seat are already dead.”

Oh, she definitely did that on purpose.

Her words carried across the camp. Conversations stalled. Heads turned. Curious, startled, suspicious gazes began drifting our way, and regret settled heavily in my chest. I had been too open with my people. That knowledge was never meant to leave the inner circle, especially not the truth that it was the Animal Soul who struck the killing blow, aided by my sister, Da Ji.

Joan looked smug for a second, but quickly turned apologetic.

I brought her here, not to sabotage me, but because she was a powerful healer.

Tan Jin appeared at the edge of the gathering, her eyes narrowing. “That’s news to me,” she said coolly.

The Six Elders of the Heavenly Temple were powerful figures, each capable of drawing upon Eleventh Realm power under the right conditions. They were the pillars beneath the Heavenly Master, second only to the rumored Children the Heavenly Master had created. Hei Mao had faced two of those Children during the civil war. They were formidable, though Hei Mao had crushed them with ease, the difference in realms rendering their struggles meaningless.

A slow clap echoed as Mo Yu emerged, the warlords flanking him, Tao Long notably absent. His eyes gleamed with interest. “Now that is fascinating,” he said. “Those elders plagued me for millennia, orchestrating assassination attempts one after another. Every scheme failed, yet they persisted.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “And you killed three of them.”

Mo Yu’s gaze locked onto mine, sharp and eager. “This is a golden opportunity,” he said. “One we would be fools to let slip through our fingers.”

Chaos erupted before anyone could react.

A bunny-eared girl burst out from behind Mo Yu and threw herself at Dave, arms wrapping tightly around his waist as her ears flopped wildly. “Don’t leave me behind,” she cried, her voice trembling. “I’ll miss you. I really will.”

Dave froze, color draining from his face. “I don’t know you,” he blurted out, hands hovering awkwardly as if afraid to touch her. “I swear, I have no idea who you are.”

Joan’s eyes narrowed, her voice cutting through the noise. “Care to explain what this is supposed to mean?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Dave was lying.

Of course, I knew better.

During Dave’s time as a warlord and as the leader of the Adventurer’s Guild, he had once mentioned a bunny assistant who handled logistics and paperwork with terrifying efficiency. The name came back to me with uncomfortable clarity. Xing Tuzi.

The camp descended into blatant disorder. Joan, Dave’s wife in every sense that mattered, fixed both Dave and the bunny girl with a glare sharp enough to draw blood. Dave tried to pry Xing Tuzi off him, but she clung like liquid, slipping through his grasp with practiced ease.

Mo Yu tilted his head, studying her with open curiosity. “Who is this rabbit?” he asked. “Her presence feels… strange.”

I shared that sentiment, my unease deepening by the second.

The ground shook as Tao Long crashed down from above, his descent hurried and uncontrolled. He looked pale, eyes wide, and screamed at the top of his lungs. “We’re surrounded!”

Shouquan appeared in the air almost simultaneously, his voice thunderous. “Da Wei,” he shouted, “it’s the Heavenly Temple!”

A soft, feminine whisper cut through the panic. “Divine Mandate of Proximity.”

Golden light exploded outward, forming a radiant dome with Dave at its center. No, not Dave. Xing Tuzi stood at the heart of it, her grip still firm, her expression suddenly calm and focused.

My blood ran cold.

That was an Ultimate Skill of the Paladin Legacy.

How she knew it, I had no answer for.

Dave reacted instantly.

Holy light flared as a sword formed in his grasp through Holy Spirit conjuration, and he slashed downward without hesitation. “Divine Smite.” His strike carried judgment and force, aimed cleanly at her neck.

Xing Tuzi moved.

Her cultivation unfolded fully, a deceptive realm surging to the Tenth Realm as she slipped past the blade with effortless grace. In the same motion, she appeared at Dave’s side, planted one foot on his shoulder as if standing on them, and murmured softly, “Your balance is terrible.”

Dave crashed face-first into the ground, half his body buried as the earth cracked beneath him.

“Enough,” Joan snapped.

She slammed her staff once, and a silver halo descended, binding Xing Tuzi in layered suppression. For a heartbeat, it held. Then Xing Tuzi shifted her stance, channeling a strange martial art that distorted weight itself, and the halo shattered like brittle glass.

Zi Cheng and Kong Huang closed in together, movements blurring with speed. Zi Cheng drew his blade, calm and precise. “Moonflower First Petal: Fall.” Kong Huang’s palm ignited as karmic flames roared to life. “Karmic Flame Palm of Destruction.”

Xing Tuzi smiled.

She vanished.

The world twisted, and suddenly she was beside me. A sharp sword slid into her hand from a pocket dimension, its edge humming with lethal intent. “Moonslayer.”

I disappeared as Dave activated Castling, wrenching me out of danger in a flash of light.

“Protect him,” Mo Yu shouted.

Zi Cheng and Kong Huang were already there, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of me. I watched Dave meet Xing Tuzi head-on, blades colliding as he chained Flash Parry with War Smite and Divine Speed, forcing a counter that rang like thunder. He had grown, far more than he realized.

The Guardians were already moving, splitting cleanly to the left as others rushed for the vessels. Orders flowed from me without pause, issued in the narrow window Xing Tuzi had revealed herself.

Mo Yu appeared at my side, eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t mistaken,” he said quietly. “That rabbit felt familiar.”

The Union’s forces surged in the opposite direction of my Guardians, the Martial Alliance moving with them in practiced coordination. Tan Jin stood still, her eyes fixed on the clash between Dave and Xing Tuzi.

“Who is she?” I asked.

Mo Yu’s expression darkened. “The elder of the Seat of Heaven,” he said. “The most dangerous of the Six.”

That explained far too much. I could hear history in his voice, unfinished and bitter. Despite everything I disliked about the Union, Mo Yu himself was… agreeable, a stark contrast to Nongmin. Where Nongmin ruled through calculation and isolation, Mo Yu understood people.

“You let a spy like that into the organization,” he added, not accusing, merely stating.

I exhaled slowly. “The Adventurer’s Guild wasn’t under me.”

He glanced toward Dave. “I know whose fault it really was. I’m just making fun of our situation. Because I couldn’t believe they’d finally decided to stop the charade and sent a whole army here to throw hands with us. Isn’t that amusing?”

There was no time for blame. Mo Yu shook his head. “If we had attacked today, it would’ve been catastrophic. A spy in our midst, and one strong enough to tear us apart from inside.”

Xing Tuzi laughed brightly as she danced backward, her blade flickering. “Come now, Dave,” she called sweetly as she split into two with some kind of clone technique. “Don’t be shy. I missed you so much.”

Joan’s aura surged violently as holy light gathered around her staff. “Keep talking,” she said coldly, releasing another Holy Smite.

Tao Long joined the fray in a flash, his form dissolving into a streak of lightning that tore across the battlefield. The strike caught Xing Tuzi’s clone mid-laughter, the false body bursting apart in a scatter of distorted qi.

“Does this amuse you?” I asked coldly.

Xing Tuzi appeared beside me as if distance had never existed.

Mo Yu stiffened. Zi Cheng and Kong Huang both froze, shock written plainly across their faces. I moved before hesitation could form, my hand closing around her throat, lifting her just enough for her feet to leave the ground.

“Is this funny?” I asked, my grip tightening.

Within each Manasoul I had planted among the Guardians, the battle unfolded in fragments within my mind. On the left flank, my forces clashed with cultivators clad in white robes, each firmly at the Eighth Realm, their formations precise and merciless.

“Someone need to reinforce the right flank, a unifying commander to lessen the chaos,” Tan Jin shouted. “We need a breakthrough.”

“We can’t,” I replied sharply. “We can’t leave this golden dome. The farther we move from its caster, the weaker we become. Our soldiers will already have a limited movement. We’d be swarmed by there forces if we don’t deal with there strongest fighters here right now. Divine Mandate of Proximity is a form of barrier spell, capable of taking away your power if you are not careful. Hopefully, a cultivators defending the right side would be able to realize this and not recklessly leave the dome.”

Mo Yu turned toward me, unsettled. “How do you know that spell?”

I ignored him and looked back at Xing Tuzi. “Where did you learn it?”

She laughed softly, utterly unbothered, her hands resting against my wrist. “The Heavenly Master told me to be honest if you ever asked,” she said sweetly. Then she tilted her head. “Ever heard of Losten, the dead world?”

Joan approached us, her steps heavy, her eyes burning with fury. “I’m sorry,” she said tightly. “For being a hindrance. For being an annoyance. But if there’s any mercy in you at all, give her to me. If I have to pry the answers from her dead body, then I will have to. How do you know Losten? And this spell?!”

“Don’t bother,” I replied flatly. “This rabbit isn’t going to cooperate.”

Pain exploded.

My hand severed cleanly at the wrist as the Reflect ability triggered instinctively. At the same moment, Mo Yu’s other hand dropped to the ground, blood spraying as his fan clattered away.

Mo Yu staggered back, hissing sharply. “That was… painful,” he said through clenched teeth, then looked at me with something like admiration. “Impressive ability.”

Zi Cheng shouted, disbelief tearing through his composure. “Master, what is the meaning of this?”

“Change, my friend,” remarked Kong Huang with a smile.

Zi Cheng moved with anger.

His blade flashed toward Kong Huang’s neck, sharp and decisive, forcing the Karmic Flameruler to retreat in haste. “What the hell was that for?” Kong Huang roared, flames sputtering as he skidded back, fury and disbelief twisting together.

Mo Yu’s severed hand regenerated almost instantly, Perfect Immortal vitality knitting flesh and bone as if they had never parted. He withdrew just in time, a thunderstrike tearing through the space he had occupied moments earlier, Shouquan descending like a judgment from above. Mo Yu’s fan snapped back into his grasp, only for Tan Jin to crash into him from the side, her fist wrapped in dense, violent aura.

He parried her punch cleanly, borrowing the force to fling himself farther away, boots skimming the ground as distance opened between them. Above, Joan unleashed a storm of Holy Smite, dozens upon dozens of radiant lances raining down. Xing Tuzi weaved through them with ease, laughter echoing as light tore harmlessly past her.

She appeared beside Mo Yu in a blink. “You botched it,” he said mildly. “That was your one chance to take his head.”

Xing Tuzi clicked her tongue. “You should’ve gone for his neck instead.”

Mo Yu laughed, unoffended. “I would’ve lost mine as well,” he replied. “And I doubt I’d resurrect from that. I only have one layer of immortality, after all.”

Zi Cheng looked terrible. His face had gone pale, his breath uneven, shock written plainly across his features. I remembered then that he had once been Mo Yu’s direct disciple, and the betrayal must have struck deep. “Master,” he demanded again, voice raised despite himself, “what is the meaning of this?”

Kong Huang snorted darkly. “You were too upright,” he said bluntly. “That’s why you were never let in on the whole plan.”

Mo Yu flicked his fan, and a sword rose beside him, hovering obediently in the air. “I visited the Heavenly Temple a decade ago,” he said softly. “We made an arrangement. In exchange for your head, they would grant me a path to the Greater Universe.”

His gaze lifted skyward. “I’ve grown tired of this world. I was ready long ago to explore the stars, but Shouquan, your greedy old fucker, hoarded the Arch Gate, and there is no true ascension here.” The single sword multiplied, then multiplied again, two, three, four, until countless blades filled the sky above him, humming with restrained killing intent.

Mo Yu turned to Zi Cheng, his tone almost gentle. “So tell me, what do you plan to do now?”

Shouquan laughed from the air, his voice ringing with contempt. “Greed? Hah~! If only you know, you fool,” he said. “You made a deal with the Heavenly Temple. You should know better than anyone that they never honor their word.”

Mo Yu smirked. “That’s exactly why I joined them.”

Xing Tuzi patted his shoulder proudly and leaned forward, her smile bright and cruel. “Allow me to introduce my colleague,” she said sweetly. “Mo Yu, newly ordained representative of the Human Seat among the Six Elders.”

I glanced at Zi Cheng and spoke evenly. “If you’re that conflicted, you’d be better off somewhere else.”

I let my power unfold.

World Force surged first, followed by aura, qi, mana, and finally quintessence, each layer stacking until the air itself groaned under the pressure. “So,” I asked calmly, “are you ready for me?”

Only then did I notice it. A formation, layered so subtly that even my senses had brushed past it, anchoring space itself. A classic trap, meant to halt greater spatial movement, severing Egress and long-range Castling alike. I smiled faintly. “Clean work,” I said. “That formation is well made.”

I had no intention of retreating. I had prepared for situations like this.

Dave and Joan stepped in beside me without hesitation. Tan Jin joined us, vine-like whip coiling into existence at her side. On the other end stood Shouquan and Tao Long, their auras steady and lethal. Every one of us stood firmly at the Tenth Realm.

Across from us gathered Mo Yu, Xing Tuzi, Kong Huang, and Tang Lan.

My skin tingled. Tang Lan had been too quiet, watching and waiting. She had already acted. Poison, subtle and insidious. I cast Cleanse on myself repeatedly, then embedded a Manasoul within each of my allies with Divine Possession, channeling a Cleanse spell through them in turn. Dave and Joan barely needed it, but caution cost nothing.

Tao Long turned to Zi Cheng, his voice earnest. “You know this is wrong,” he said. “As your sworn brother, it’s my duty to pull you back from the wrong path. You know the Heavenly Temple is at the wrong, brother… Instigation, coercion, and the policies they’ve been enacting…”

Mo Yu laughed softly. “There’s no need for such agony,” he said. “Zi Cheng only needs to follow his sword, as he always has.”

Zi Cheng stood between us, fists clenched, breath uneven. “I respect you both,” he said at last. “But my respect for my master is not the same as my respect for my brother.”

He stepped back, aligning himself with Mo Yu.

I reached into my pocket dimension and drew my sword. Its strange red hue shimmered faintly, a cursed blade forged to endure overwhelming power, something I had claimed during my excursions against the Heavenly Temple for the past two hundred years. With a thought, my armor flowed over my robes, quintessence reweaving itself into the replica of the Wandering Adjudicator, heavy with judgment.

I tilted my head slightly. “Aren’t you missing someone? It’s gonna be a five-vs-six at this rate with six on our favor…”

Mo Yu scoffed. “Think again.”

The sky tore open.

An enormous spell array unfolded above us, and a floating old man emerged, laughter echoing wildly as spiritual pressure crashed down like a tide. “The Hell Seat has arrived,” he proclaimed. “Huo Zexi!”

His aura detonated outward as he roared, “Dual Path: Hell and Asura Unity!”

His body expanded grotesquely, muscles bulging, skin turning crimson as horns tore through his forehead. He slammed his palms together, and the formation screamed as an enormous meteor tore free from the heavens.

Dave sighed beside me. “My lord,” he said dryly, “you really had to say it, didn’t you?”

Shouquan sneered, contempt plain on his face. “I’ll handle it.”

A silver, mist-like mirage tore free from his soul, massive hands forming as it caught the descending meteor midair. The impact shook the sky. Huo Zexi threw his head back and laughed wildly. “Old fool,” he roared. “You really kicked me out of the Ward for this?”

Lightning cracked.

Tao Long vanished and reappeared in the same breath, spear thrusting straight for Zi Cheng’s chest. “As your sworn brother,” he said grimly, “I’ll fight you myself.”

Mo Yu snapped his fan open. “Tang Lan, Kong Huang,” he ordered calmly. “Handle the Alliance Master.”

They never got the chance.

A vine snapped around Kong Huang’s throat and hurled him away like dead weight, while Tang Lan was struck squarely and sent flying in the opposite direction. I spoke through Qi Speech without pause. “Tan Jin, finish them.”

She answered with action, aura flaring as she chased them down. As a Martial Saint, she needed no further instruction.

That left three of us on my side, and two on theirs.

Xing Tuzi clapped her palms together, eyes shining. “Dual Path,” she cried. “Heaven and Animal Unity. Moonrabbit.”

Silver fur spilled down her neck as her hair lengthened into gleaming strands, a lunar aura washing over her form. She vanished, intent clear.

Joan slammed her staff into the ground. “Invoke: Divine Right. Divine Authority of Ephryn.”

A golden wall erupted as Xing Tuzi’s dagger struck, divine power stopping it cold, before it reached my throat. Of course, I didn’t need protection, but I appreciate the gesture.

Light poured from Joan in gentle waves. A thin halo spun above her head, radiance falling like sunlight. Her clothes reshaped into flowing ceremonial robes edged in gold, revealing more skin than she would ever have tolerated before.

“Let me handle her,” Joan said sharply.

She teleported.

Xing Tuzi was dragged into her space, Joan’s staff swinging with War Smite, a technique she had only recently learned from Dave. Xing Tuzi was sent flying, and Joan followed instantly, teleporting into the sky as her unicorn manifested beneath her. The two clashed above us, holy light and silver motion tearing through the clouds as Xing Tuzi danced through volleys of Holy Smite with inhuman grace.

Mo Yu looked at me. “Do you intend to deal with me,” he asked mildly, “with just the two of you?”

Dave cracked his knuckles. “Might not be honorable,” he said, “but you started it.”

The sky screamed.

A massive golden rift in the shape of a cross tore open as Joan cast Judgment Severance, shattering the golden dome entirely. Space remained anchored, but the battlefield breathed again. For a moment, I considered summoning the rest of the Six Path souls and ending this outright, but the formation stopping greater spatial motion was still in effect. I couldn’t still use Castling.

I faced Mo Yu. “Surrender.”

He smiled faintly. “I decided long ago that surrender is the last thing that would be heard from my mouth.”

He slammed his palms together. “Six Path Unity: Immortal Sage.”

Golden markings bloomed around his eyes, spreading across his temples like a band of light. A concentric eye of dark and gold opened on his forehead, rippling as his body lifted from the ground under crushing spiritual pressure.

“This,” he said softly, “is the source of my name.”

He looked at me with something like regret. “It’s a pity,” he added, “that I’ll have to say farewell so soon.”