Chapter 1200

At the top of this chart sits Nangong Yantian; the color beneath his name is black. Beyond him, over seventy percent of the names in Wuliang Hall bear a black mark below. Only the dozen or so deities who miraculously survived the Chaotic Burial Divine Alliance’s onslaught have white markings under their names. It is clear that white and black denote two opposing factions.

Elder Ge occupies the center of the chart, his name unmarked—signifying neutrality. Alongside him is Ye Yu! His name, too, has no mark beneath it. After gazing intently, Xie Buyu taps her fingertip—and a color appears under Ye Yu’s name. It is gray!

Only Xie Buyu knows what gray signifies. And gray is not unique on this chart: Third Elder Dongfang Yelai’s name lies near the bottom, almost swallowed by shadow, yet it too carries a gray mark. Xie Buyu’s eyes grow icy. She murmurs, “There are no coincidences in this world—all is long since planned.”

Over the next few days, Ye Yu remains behind closed doors. He neither seeks out Nangong Yantian nor meets Xie Buyu; instead, he dedicates himself to mastering the proper use of the superior divine artifact Zhanhun.

He must admit: this little thing is truly strange! Its spirit refuses communication—no matter how Ye Yu tries to placate it, it remains silent, as uncooperative as a quarrelsome young maiden in the throes of a lovers’ spat—stubborn as a wild donkey! In exasperation, Ye Yu abandons persuasion in favor of force.

“You stubborn mule?

Think you’re the only one obstinate?”

Drawing on his Demonic Descent technique and the power of his divine form, he attempts to force Zhanhun to obey.

“If you won’t comply, I’ll make you!” But even a supreme divine artifact is supreme—it cannot be wrangled by just any True God–realm deity.

Despite exerting all his strength, Ye Yu cannot complete a single slash. From that day on, Zhanhun throws tantrums: it becomes a mere phantasmal shadow—visible, yet untouchable—hovering as though voicing its discontent. Ye Yu is decidedly annoyed. He quietly seeks out Elder Ge to ask if there is a way to tame it quickly. Elder Ge’s answer is simple: “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never used a superior divine artifact in my life—my temperament is too stubborn to tolerate these {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} spirit beings’ rotten quirks.”

At these words, Ye Yu’s eyes gleam with admiration: “What stubbornness!” Wait—no, not quite! If his temperament were stubborn enough to tame a supreme artifact, he wouldn’t say that now. “Old codger almost had me fooled!” Ye Yu smirks, but says nothing—after all, Zhanhun is a gift from Elder Ge. If he cannot tame it, that is his own shortcoming; there is no shame in that.

Ye Yu turns to return to his chamber to continue his studies, but at the door he finds Hong Zhencheng waiting excitedly. “Supreme Deity, you’ve emerged from seclusion? I’ve been waiting for days to see you, but dared not disturb you.”

Ye Yu is not surprised—though he remained inside, he sensed the goings-on outside and knew Hong Zhencheng had come.

He purposefully avoided him—not because Hong is unworthy, but because he will not remain long in Wuliang Hall; he wishes to avoid entanglements and steer clear of the Alliance’s power struggles. He keeps distance from everyone except Elder Ge, the true neutral party who never takes sides. Now that he has encountered Hong Zhencheng, there is no avoiding him, but no need for stiffness either. Ye Yu smiles lightly: “What’s the matter? Have you come on business?” “Indeed—and great news! My master wishes to see you!” Hong Zhencheng beams, pointing southward. Ye Yu’s face turns strange.

Moments later, in a lavish side hall, Ye Yu beholds a massive corporeal form—a human-shaped mountain towering above, yet its face is oddly gaunt, creating a stark contrast with its immense frame. Hong Zhencheng eagerly introduces: “Supreme Deity, this is my master, Dongfang Yelai.” “Master, this is the Alliance’s most illustrious newcomer, Supreme Deity Ye Yu!”

Having exchanged titles, the living mountain Dongfang Yelai speaks softly: “I have heard of your name from my junior—and you are an exceptional newcomer.”

“Zhencheng, wait outside; I have matters to discuss with Ye Yu alone.” Hong Zhencheng bows and departs. In the next instant, a green barrier flares up, sealing them within.

Ye Yu wonders at the caution—why such prudence between two strangers meeting for the first time? Dongfang Yelai’s smile vanishes; he leans close to Ye Yu and asks in a cold voice, “Where exactly have you come from?” The single question makes the whole hall tremble, its words laced with a divine force that rattles the soul. Ye Yu feels discomfort—but at that moment, the phantasmal Zhanhun in his arms exudes a gentle power that neutralizes the divine force, banishing all negative sensation.

He gazes at Dongfang Yelai and calmly asks, “Elder, why such suspicion?” The instant his words fall, a blood-red aura blooms around Ye Yu, enveloping the hall. A gigantic scarlet demonic eye bursts forth on his brow, fixed on Dongfang Yelai. The floor dissolves into a black sea of flames, heat roaring—a clear sign this is no illusion. Dongfang Yelai is slightly moved; he reseats himself and reins in his icy expression. Seeing this, Ye Yu relaxes his fist and everything dissolves—the grand hall remains as it was. Dongfang Yelai says calmly: “It seems you still distrust me, believing I sent you to spy upon me!”