No, tearing into the cave with divine sense wasn’t satisfying enough. With that thought, Lan Xiaobu threw a punch.
Whether Fang Zhifan was inside or not, he’d blast it first and deal with the consequences later. When Saint Island’s people came looking for trouble, it’d be the perfect excuse to snatch the Heart of the Universe. Otherwise, he’d feel a bit awkward about it.
Boom! Crack! The restrictions outside the cave shattered into dust.
Over a dozen divine senses swept toward Lan Xiaobu’s punch, each one landing on him in shock. Was this guy insane?
Attacking someone’s cave restrictions in Golden Saint Dao City on Saint Island was a death wish. Not only was he courting death, but the owner of the blasted cave would likely be crushed too.
On Saint Island, they didn’t care who was right or wrong—if you were part of a conflict, you were dead.
As the cave crumbled under Lan Xiaobu’s strike, a tall, thin figure shot out, landing opposite him.
“Lord Lan…” The figure, clearly Kun Wei wearing Fang Zhifan’s skin, spoke. Forget that his strength hadn’t recovered—even if it had, he had no desire to clash with Lan Xiaobu now. After all he’d been through, he knew better than anyone that Lan Xiaobu might be a bearer of immense destiny.
Last time, Lan Xiaobu’s strength had rivaled his own. Even if Lan Xiaobu hadn’t progressed since, Kun Wei wouldn’t be a match for him now. And knowing Lan Xiaobu, his strength grew with every breath. After so long, it’d be strange if he *hadn’t* improved. Kun Wei couldn’t gauge Lan Xiaobu’s power anymore—likely quasi-saint mid-stage, or even late-stage.
Quasi-saint late-stage meant above the seventh layer. Back when Lan Xiaobu wasn’t even mid-stage, he’d held his own against Kun Wei. If he’d reached late-stage, Kun Wei stood no chance.
Look at Fang Zhifan’s fate. Fang Zhifan had mastered the Great Curse Technique, and Kun Wei had kept him around for over a millennium to steal it. Yet what happened? He’d nearly been killed by Fang Zhifan himself. That showed how formidable Fang Zhifan was.
And yet, that powerful Fang Zhifan had met Lan Xiaobu—chased for years, fleeing billions of miles. If Kun Wei still thought Lan Xiaobu was an easy target, dreaming of replacing him in the Great Desolate Divine Realm, he’d be a fool.
Seeing Fang Zhifan still here, Lan Xiaobu’s heart leapt with glee. But he ignored the man, turning toward the approaching footsteps.
A woman in black landed before him, her eyes glinting with a trace of delight upon seeing him. “Good, you’ve come back again.”
“What’s the matter, friend?” Lan Xiaobu’s tone was calm. He knew this woman was a seventh-revolution saint who cultivated the Rules of Darkness.
“I was just looking for you—to discuss some business,” she said bluntly.
Lan Xiaobu replied coolly, “My cave lease hasn’t expired yet. Once it does, I’ll talk business with you.”
“Heh, that won’t do.” The woman chuckled, her powerful domain unfurling.
Though Kun Wei stood farther off, the terrifying saintly domain made his face pale.
Even at his peak, he’d be less than an ant before this woman. What shocked him more was that he hadn’t even been caught in the domain, yet he felt death’s grip—heart pounding, soul trembling. Meanwhile, Lan Xiaobu, standing within it, seemed barely affected. His guess was right—Lan Xiaobu’s strength far surpassed the quasi-saint early stage of before.
The woman didn’t care that Lan Xiaobu could stand in her domain. She’d barely used a tenth of her power—him holding steady wasn’t surprising.
Lan Xiaobu was about to retort, *You think I’ll comply just because you want me to? What can you do?* But before he could speak, two figures landed between him and Kun Wei.
“Was it you who made a move just now?” one asked coldly, staring at Lan Xiaobu before glancing at Kun Wei.
Kun Wei’s already pale face whitened further. He’d been focused on reconciling with Lan Xiaobu, not expecting that Lan Xiaobu’s attack on his cave would land him on Saint Island’s kill list too.
Lan Xiaobu’s gaze settled on the newcomers—a first-revolution saint and a second-revolution saint. Before he’d reached his own first revolution, he’d have had to find a way to escape Saint Island.
But now? He wasn’t afraid. He’d come looking for a fight—or rather, he’d been holding soybeans with no pan to fry them in, and now the pan had shown up. Two saints of the first and second revolutions? He was confident he could take them down in moments.
If he dealt with these two, the Mad Saint and Tree Saint would have to show themselves, right? The only wrinkle was this black-clad woman—a tough opponent. But even if she teamed up with the Mad Saint and Tree Saint, Lan Xiaobu was sure he could walk away calmly. At worst, he’d leave the Heart of the Universe behind.
Before he could act, the woman in black suddenly slapped out.
Boom! A wild surge of divine energy erupted, her dao-charged domain enveloping the two saints. They didn’t even have a chance to resist before being flung away, spinning like tops for dozens of miles in the void before crashing onto a mound.
“Scram!” she snorted, clearly annoyed that these two had interrupted her business talk with Lan Xiaobu.
The dozens of divine senses observing her instantly withdrew.
Forget that fighting here was a death sentence—just the fact that she dared attack Saint Island’s officials was beyond bold. Slapping away two saints, including a second-revolution one, with a single strike? How strong was she? At least a fourth-revolution saint.
Lan Xiaobu frowned slightly. This woman was stronger than he’d expected. He wasn’t afraid, but if the Mad Saint and Tree Saint joined her, it’d be tricky. Plus, who knew if Saint Island had another seventh-revolution saint besides her?
As he pondered, his divine sense caught two shadows at its edge, swiftly landing nearby.
Seeing them, Lan Xiaobu knew the Mad Saint and Tree Saint had arrived. With them here, teaming up with this woman might be his best move.
His divine sense scanned the pair. One had wild hair, an ugly face, and a fierce demeanor, exuding a murderous aura—likely the Mad Saint, around fourth-revolution strength.
The other had green hair and a pockmarked face, clearly a fifth-revolution saint—definitely the Tree Saint.
“Friend, you came to our Saint Island, and we didn’t make you leave. We even let you claim land and rent caves as you pleased. Yet you blasted away two of our stewards—what’s the meaning of this?” the green-haired, pockmarked man asked.
The woman’s gaze flicked between them before she said flatly, “I’m here discussing business with a friend. Two buzzing flies interrupted us—I didn’t kill them, and that’s me giving you face. If you keep wasting my time, don’t blame me for killing you both too.”
The wild-haired man’s killing intent flared at her words, a terrifying aura radiating from him, the space crackling.
But before he could erupt, the green-haired man patted his shoulder, whispering something that quelled his rage.
Lan Xiaobu chuckled, fanning the flames. “That’s not good. If you’ve got a temper, let it out—otherwise, you’ll get sick holding it in. I’m genuinely worried for you. Keep this up, and some things might… malfunction.”
As he spoke, he inwardly urged, *Fight, come on, fight!*
“You…” The wild-haired man glared at Lan Xiaobu, his killing intent surging again. If not for the green-haired man’s restraint, he might’ve already lunged.
The green-haired man looked at Lan Xiaobu and said coolly, “You’ve got guts. I’ve rarely seen cultivators at your level with such nerve.”
Then, turning to the woman, he added, “Since that’s the case, we brothers won’t disturb your business any longer. Farewell.”
With that, they turned and vanished in an instant.
Lan Xiaobu understood the green-haired man’s implication—his cultivation was trash, yet he spoke so boldly. Normally, someone like him wouldn’t survive long. Without the woman’s presence, they’d have killed him already.
But Lan Xiaobu brushed it off like air. When he’d smashed Fang Zhifan’s cave, he’d had no intention of playing nice. His disappointment was that his provocation hadn’t sparked a fight between them and the woman.
Onlookers in the distance sucked in cold breaths, retracting their divine senses.
In Golden Saint Dao City, she’d disciplined two of the city’s saintly stewards, and nothing happened. The Mad Saint and Tree Saint had come, said a few perfunctory words, and left. Even a fool could tell this woman was no ordinary figure.
“The noisy ones are gone. Now we can talk business properly,” the woman said coldly, staring at Lan Xiaobu.
He smiled faintly. “Business is no problem, but I’ve got some personal matters to handle first. If you’re not in a rush, you can wait at your shop. Once I’m done, I’ll come right over.”
“I’m afraid that’s not up to you. We’re talking now.” With that, her ferocious saintly domain crashed toward Lan Xiaobu.
