“An Array Earth Master is virtually invincible below the Great Saint level.”
The sudden appearance of Murong Yefeng didn’t rattle Lord Shenya—it merely meant more time wasted here.
Lord Shenya snorted, “Kunlun Realm has no shortage of fearless fools. Don’t you know you should steer clear of an Array Earth Master?”
Murong Yefeng’s war cape fluttered in the wind, “After today, you’ll learn a lesson: when you meet me, it’s you who should flee.”
Below the Great Saint level, he was the first to speak to Lord Shenya with such audacity. Lord Shenya laughed in fury, “Kunlun Realm lacks Array Earth Masters, so you don’t grasp their might—understandable. Today, I’ll show you your ignorance.”
“Seven Stars Bury the Moon.”
Lord Shenya’s hands formed intricate seals.
Instantly, seven radiant stars burst from his brow, hovering above the sea.
Each star was at least palace-sized. The largest resembled a meteor suspended midair, exuding a suffocating, heavy aura.
Their true sizes weren’t fully revealed.
In reality, each rivalled the Eastern Domain Holy City.
“Divine power… all seven stars radiate divine power. They’re…”
Murong Yefeng’s gaze hardened, sensing the space around him solidify like iron.
Even with his cultivation, he felt mired in a swamp, every move laborious. The fire-lion beast beneath him grew restless, sensing unprecedented danger.
Lord Shenya laughed long and loud, “These seven stars are divine-seat planets, bought at great cost from various saint markets. Using them as array bases, I inscribed ninth-grade array patterns, linking them into one.”
“Together, their power may not match a true god’s cosmos-spanning divine seat, but below Great Saint level, they sweep all before them.”
“No matter how many experts come, they’re mere chickens and dogs—easily crushed.”
An Array Earth Master could sway a War of Merit’s outcome—this wasn’t bravado.
Unleashing the seven divine-seat planets, Lord Shenya seemed godlike to ordinary cultivators.
The difference was that a god’s divine-seat planet illuminated the cosmic sea, while his seven shone over mere tens of thousands of miles.
Even thousands of Saint Kings attacking him now would likely gain nothing.
“Not necessarily.”
Murong Yefeng’s saintly energy surged skyward like a torrent, piercing the clouds.
“Boom.”
The clouds ignited, turning crimson.
At their centre, supreme power erupted, its aura blanketing the Eastern Domain Holy City. Slowly, a nine-legged ancient cauldron emerged, vast and earth-shaking.
Nine phoenix patterns adorned its surface, vivid as if nine primordial divine phoenixes were sealed within, straining to break free.
Many in the city spotted the cauldron, gasps and exclamations rising.
“The Nine Phoenix Cauldron… it’s the Nine Phoenix Cauldron! Who’d have thought this supreme saintly weapon would reappear in the Eastern Domain Holy City? Which black market powerhouse has arrived?”
“Few in the black market—less than five—can wield the Nine Phoenix Cauldron to this extent.”
…
The Nine Phoenix Cauldron was the weapon of the Evil Emperor, one of the Nine Emperors eight hundred years ago. After Chi Yao slew him, she sealed it in the Eastern Domain Saint Academy’s holy mountain. Later, Nine Nether Sword Saint, Illusory Saint, and the Black Market First Hall Master stole it, taking it back to the black market.
Murong Yefeng, aware of the city’s complex stakes, had borrowed the cauldron beforehand.
Already a peerless warrior capable of briefly facing Great Saints, with a supreme saintly weapon, he was a tiger with wings—unfazed by Lord Shenya.
Jiang Yunchong appeared behind Lord Shenya, long hair billowing, hands raising six cities.
Forged from saintly iron, each city housed a Great Saint’s corpse, powering them endlessly. Combined with his Six Harmonies Technique, they orbited him slowly.
“Lord Shenya, today you’ll learn that in Kunlun Realm, even an Earth Master must tread lightly—or face death,” Jiang Yunchong gritted out, hurling the six cities at him.
Simultaneously, Murong Yefeng pushed the Nine Phoenix Cauldron to its limit, slamming it downward. Nine fiery phoenixes burst forth, their cries echoing for thousands of miles.
“Boom.”
Facing attacks from two titans, even Lord Shenya grew solemn, manipulating the seven divine-seat planets to counter them.
The battle’s shockwaves rocked the entire Eastern Domain Holy City.
…
…
The Torchfire Tower stood three hundred and thirty-three storeys tall, a central well running from base to peak.
Within burned the torchfire.
The fiercer it blazed, the more ancient inscriptions it activated.
Now, Zhang Ruochen used the Array-Suppressing Pearl to pin the torchfire below the first storey.
As a fifty-eighth-rank spiritual Saint King, his heavenly eye saw thousands of miles away—Jiang Yunchong, Murong Yefeng, and Lord Shenya locked in fierce combat.
“Lord Shenya’s too powerful. I must suppress the torchfire to stop him from wielding the ancient inscriptions.”
“Swish.”
Zhang Ruochen sensed faint saintly fluctuations approaching fast from behind, thick with killing intent. A sword light stabbed at his back, sword energy filling the tower with a “whoosh.”
He nearly summoned the Abyss Ancient Sword to slay the intruder but stopped upon recognising them.
“Bang.”
The sword tip struck his back.
Zhang Ruochen stood unmoved, his armour absorbing the force.
A powerful rebound flung the graceful figure backwards.
Clad in palace robes, she appeared twenty-eight or twenty-nine, with treasure-blue hair and a cold, proud demeanour.
Seeing Zhang Ruochen’s profile, she froze, “Zhang Ruochen?”
A bitter smile crossed his face as he turned, his gaze complex, “This junior greets Saint Liuli.”
The robed beauty was Chen Liuli, a new-generation Chen Clan Saint.
She was also the Queen of Thousand Waters County and Huang Yanchen’s mother.
Meeting Zhang Ruochen again, Chen Liuli’s heart churned with emotions, words piling up yet unspoken. Once, this young man had been her most admired, proudest son-in-law.
Now, things had changed, leaving only tangled grudges.
Chen Liuli asked, “Did the old ancestor die by your hand? Are you here for revenge?”
“Revenge? For what?”
Zhang Ruochen replied, “Does Saint Liuli think that because your daughter stabbed me, I’d destroy the Chen Clan to vent my hatred? I believe I’m still clear on right and wrong—not that ruthless.”
“No… Zhang Ruochen, why are you here? Who killed the old ancestor?” Chen Liuli pressed.
Zhang Ruochen didn’t blame her. With Chen Yuhua’s body outside, anyone seeing him in the tower might assume he was the killer.
“If I say Senior Chen Yuhua didn’t die by my hand, would you believe me, Saint Liuli?”
“Yes,” Chen Liuli said.
Surprise flickered in Zhang Ruochen’s eyes.
Chen Liuli added, “Yanchen wouldn’t misjudge someone. I trust her.”
“Don’t mention her to me. We’re strangers now—ties severed, feelings gone,” Zhang Ruochen looked away, staring outside.
No one could fathom the pain her name stabbed into his heart.
Letting go—easier said than done.
After a long pause, he asked, “You came here for help, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Chen Liuli nodded.
Despair clouded her eyes.
The main Eastern Domain Saint King Mansion was under siege by hordes of foreign saint-level cultivators, teetering on collapse.
Chen Liuli had fought through near-death to reach here, hoping Chen Yuhua could activate the Torchfire Tower and use the ancient inscriptions to crush the invaders.
Chen Yuhua was the Chen Clan’s top master—their last hope.
Seeing his corpse, her heart had sunk, knowing the Chen Clan was finished, hope extinguished.
Zhang Ruochen held up the Torchfire Token, “Before he died, Senior Yuhua passed this to me, naming me Eastern Domain King.”
A spark lit Chen Liuli’s despairing eyes, “Quick, use it to activate the Torchfire Tower, wield the ancient inscriptions, and quell the city’s chaos.”
Zhang Ruochen shook his head, “It requires fifty-ninth-rank spiritual power.”
In all of Kunlun Realm, cultivators with that level of spiritual power could be counted on one hand.
Where could they find one now?
“It seems heaven wants the Chen Clan and Eastern Domain destroyed,” Chen Liuli laughed bitterly, tears welling, tasting powerless despair.
Her clan was being butchered, and she could do nothing.
Zhang Ruochen said, “As the Eastern Domain King, I won’t let anyone run rampant on my turf. I’ll go with you to the main city.”
“You?” Chen Liuli asked.
Zhang Ruochen smiled, “What? Doubting my strength, Senior?”
Her gaze softened, tone earnest, “Don’t throw your life away. While they haven’t seized the Zhou Tian Grand Array and ancient inscriptions, flee the city.”
With that, she walked resolutely towards the tower’s exit.
Zhang Ruochen watched her back—so like Huang Yanchen’s. “Why don’t you flee, Senior?” he asked.
“The Eastern Domain Saint King Mansion is my home. I’ll live or die with it.”
Chen Liuli didn’t turn back.
She faced impending death without fear.
“With such resolute cultivators, Kunlun Realm will rise again someday,” Zhang Ruochen said.
The next moment, Chen Liuli rushed back, urgency in her eyes, “They’re here—Zhang Ruochen, escape now!”
“They’re here… are they?”
Zhang Ruochen remained calm, peering outside.
Ghostly mist rolled in from the night, flooding the spiritual mountain, soon encircling the Torchfire Tower. It swirled, thousands of ghostly wails echoing from within, chilling to the bone.
