Zhang Ruochen’s gaze shifted to the Space Exquisite Ball, where tens of thousands of Saint Ming loyalists lay gravely injured, many maimed and on the brink of death. Without swift intervention, they were beyond saving.
He produced a large quantity of Life Spring, sending it into the ball.
The Life Spring transformed into a spiritual rain, falling on each loyalist, seeping into their bodies and merging with their blood.
Currently, the Heaven-Connecting Divine Tree’s trunk was infusing divine power into its sapling, enabling rapid growth and producing an increasing amount of Life Spring.
Once the sapling fully absorbed the trunk’s essence, it would reach an astonishing level, expanding the Qiankun Realm accordingly.
To Zhang Ruochen, the greatest value of acquiring the trunk was nurturing the new sapling.
The better it grew, the superior the Qiankun Realm’s cultivation conditions would become—his foundation for rebuilding Saint Ming.
Seeing the loyalists’ conditions improve, Zhang Ruochen frowned, saying gravely, “How ruthless. They’ve wounded everyone’s saint souls, ensuring that even if they survive, their cultivation paths are severed.”
Life Spring could heal physical wounds rapidly but couldn’t mend saint soul damage—unless the Heaven-Connecting Divine Tree regrew into a true divine tree, capable of healing all injuries.
Including Yan Kaixuan, all tens of thousands of loyalists had damaged saint souls, fundamentally injured, likely by a Soul Realm secret technique.
Clearly, this was deliberate.
Mu Lingxi interjected, “I know a secret technique to heal saint soul injuries.”
Zhang Ruochen turned to her, “Lingxi, are you sure?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll restore them all,” Mu Lingxi smiled.
With no time to hesitate, Zhang Ruochen nodded, “Alright, heal them. I’ll find Twelfth Royal Uncle. Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I know my limits,” Mu Lingxi replied.
“Master Chen, I’ll help the Little Saintess,” Shoushu chimed in.
Zhang Ruochen said nothing, waving them, along with Yan Kaixuan, into the Space Exquisite Ball.
Without pause, he activated the Radiant Merit Armour, bursting forth at a thousand times the speed of sound, heading southeast.
His priority was rescuing King Mingjiang.
Yan Kaixuan’s southeast direction was within Saint Ming City, not outside.
The Heavenly Court faction had acted too swiftly, sealing the city entirely, preventing any escape. King Mingjiang’s group had only broken through one encirclement, avoiding capture like Yan Kaixuan, but they remained in peril.
Racing toward the direction, Zhang Ruochen unleashed his formidable spiritual power, searching for King Mingjiang’s traces.
Inside the Space Exquisite Ball, Mu Lingxi sliced her wrist with a fingernail, releasing blood that radiated an icy chill.
Since awakening her Ice Phoenix bloodline, her blood was no longer human but phoenix blood.
“Little Saintess, what are you doing?” Shoushu asked, shocked and puzzled.
Mu Lingxi’s expression was serious, “To heal their saint soul injuries, I must use my phoenix blood with a Phoenix Clan secret technique.”
“What? How much blood will that take? If Master Chen knew, he’d never let you do this,” Shoushu said, tense.
Mu Lingxi murmured, “That’s why I didn’t tell him. I know my strength can’t help him much, but I want to do what I can.”
“But can you handle it?” Shoushu worried.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. If I can’t even do this, wouldn’t I be too useless? Let’s start—you help me,” Mu Lingxi said.
Shoushu nodded. With Mu Lingxi so determined, he had no objections. Though cowardly, he wouldn’t shirk what he could do.
They began, using phoenix blood and the secret technique to heal the loyalists’ saint souls.
The commotion from the gate battles had alerted all Heavenly Court faction powerhouses in the city, drawing them toward the gate.
“Though Shang Ziyan’s left, many powerhouses remain. Zhang Ruochen charging in alone is brave but unwise.”
“Soul Realm’s Feng Gudao, Ruiya Realm’s Chi Sheng, Hongyang Realm’s Zi Linglong, and Cha Realm’s Gu Tianyin are all peak Near-Path Realm powerhouses, stronger than Cang Long and Yandba. Zhang Ruochen’s odds against them are slim.”
“Feng Gudao is Soul Realm’s strongest below Great Saint. He once used a Soul Realm secret technique to ambush an Immortal Great Saint, nearly succeeding. With his Soul Holding Technique controlling many Saint Kings, including dozens of Nine-Step Saint Kings, he alone poses a massive threat.”
“Chi Sheng’s no slouch, the top powerhouse below Great Saint in Tyrant God Hall, faintly Ruiya Realm’s leader. His body is incredibly resilient, with arms, legs, head, and neck immortalized. Ordinary attacks can’t harm him.”
…
Seeing Zhang Ruochen storm the city, many spectators sighed, likening him to a lamb among tigers.
With those top powerhouses, Zhang Ruochen’s chances of saving anyone, or even escaping, were questionable.
Gazing at the ruined city and scattered corpses, Zhang Ruochen’s rage flared. These were Saint Ming’s people, mostly mortals, yet the Heavenly Court faction showed no mercy.
Shang Ziyan aimed to uproot Saint Ming entirely, a vicious plan.
“Shang Ziyan, you’re courting death,” Zhang Ruochen clenched his fists, killing intent surging.
Never had he so fiercely desired to kill someone.
Shang Ziyan had crossed his line—only death could quell his hatred.
“Boom.”
A deafening explosion snapped Zhang Ruochen back to reality.
The blast came from directly ahead, its power suggesting a Saint King’s self-destruction.
His heart tightened, and he teleported.
Space rippled, and Zhang Ruochen appeared atop a saint mountain near the explosion.
The mountain, though not tall, brimmed with dense saintly energy, a rare cultivation haven, meant to be sacred and serene.
Now, it was bloodstained. Top saints and Saint Kings had spilled their blood, filling the air with blood and killing intent.
Zhang Ruochen’s gaze locked onto a rock—or rather, the person lying on it: his Twelfth Royal Uncle, King Mingjiang.
King Mingjiang was in dire straits, half his body shattered, an arrow lodged in his chest, unremoved.
Four loyal guards stood by him, all familiar to Zhang Ruochen as King Mingjiang’s top generals, now Saint Kings.
Without them, King Mingjiang wouldn’t have survived this long.
Yan Kaixuan had been with them but was captured.
The self-destruction was undoubtedly another of King Mingjiang’s generals.
“A mere One-Step Saint King thought self-destruction could take us down? Naive,” a Heavenly Court faction Saint King sneered.
The explosion had startled them, but no one died.
Saint Kings, valuing their lives, rarely self-destructed.
“Hm? Zhang Ruochen.”
A powerhouse noticed him.
“Retreat!”
Without hesitation, the Heavenly Court faction powerhouses pursuing King Mingjiang fled.
Zhang Ruochen’s reputation was too fearsome. Lacking top powerhouses, they’d die if they stayed.
“Moyin, deal with them,” Zhang Ruochen said coldly.
Moyin emerged from his spine, unleashing vines that ensnared the fleeing powerhouses.
Screams echoed as they were caught.
Zhang Ruochen ignored them, flashing to the rock beside King Mingjiang.
“Greetings, Your Highness!” the four generals exclaimed, thrilled, kneeling in salute.
Zhang Ruochen’s arrival gave them hope, pulling them from despair.
“Rise.”
He waved, sprinkling hundreds of Life Spring droplets, which seeped into King Mingjiang and the generals.
The generals, heavily wounded and near collapse, healed rapidly, their wounds closing visibly.
Even King Mingjiang’s severe injuries mended, his shattered half-body restoring.
Moments later, he sat up, pale but no longer in mortal danger.
“King!” the generals cried, overjoyed.
“Ruochen, you shouldn’t have come. Saint Ming City’s lost—nothing can change that,” King Mingjiang sighed.
When they attacked Lingxiao Heavenly King Mansion, he was already a Saint King.
With Kunlun Realm’s revival, he’d seized opportunities, reaching Nine-Step Saint King.
In Saint Ming City, he was the undisputed strongest.
Zhang Ruochen met his gaze, resolute, “Saint Ming City is Saint Ming’s root. As crown prince, how could I not return? Should I watch our people be slaughtered?”
“I understand your heart—I, too, want to protect our city and people. But these enemies are too terrifying. I thought Nine-Step Saint King made me fearless, but one foe struck me down. Without a life-saving treasure from Royal Brother, I’d be dead.”
“I survived, but couldn’t save our people. I watched an enemy sink half the city with one strike, killing countless.”
“Kaixuan, Wang Ji—they died or were wounded protecting me. Only these four remain. I’m useless, watching my men and people die, powerless!”
Tears streamed down King Mingjiang’s face.
The horrors had nearly broken his millennium-honed resolve, despair flooding him.
When the Saint Ming Central Empire fell, he’d endured, leading loyalists into hiding, awaiting revival.
But now, he felt Saint Ming’s hope was gone, doomed to extinction.
