“You can’t escape. Spatial Freeze.”
Zhang Ruochen steps forward with his right foot, stomping forcefully. The spatial rules within his qi sea surge out, merging with his spatial domain, then rushing towards the rapidly advancing Saint Lord Zuo Mu.
*Hiss.*
The space around Saint Lord Zuo Mu turns liquid-like, trembling slightly.
Then, like a great river freezing, it solidifies inch by inch.
His body, normally fused with space and invisible to the naked eye, begins to manifest as a faint shadow as the space freezes.
Emperor Yu’s face lights up with joy. “Is he suppressed?”
“Saint Lord Zuo Mu’s cultivation is formidable. I can only hold him briefly. Hurry, use your soul-capturing flute to erode his five senses and mental will.”
Zhang Ruochen channels his holy qi and blood煞 aura, surging from his soles to all directions, sustaining the spatial domain.
Saint Lord Zuo Mu’s cultivation, at the mid-stage of the Thousand-Questions Realm, boasts combat strength nearing the realm’s peak. Even with Zhang Ruochen’s full effort, he can only restrain him momentarily.
Emperor Yu knows this is the critical moment that will decide victory or defeat. Her left fingertip slices her right wrist, cutting skin and veins.
Crimson, searing Great Saint blood drips onto the soul-capturing flute.
The flute seems to come alive, absorbing the blood, its surface blooming with dense blood-red patterns, each a divine inscription carved by its former master.
*Swish—*
Divine power surges from the flute, growing stronger.
Perhaps stirred by the divine energy, a breeze rises. Though no one plays it yet, faint flute notes echo across the Dark Star.
The two weaker Great Saints of the Meteorite Temple, Yan Cuo, feel sharp pain in their minds from the flute’s sound, barely enduring by fully mobilising their mental power.
“The soul-capturing flute, an ancient divine relic, has awakened its divine power under Emperor Yu’s Great Saint blood,” Fang Mofeng says.
Emperor Yu holds the flute with both hands, her rosy lips exhaling a long breath.
A melody, at times mournful and haunting, at times stirring and resonant, reverberates through heaven and earth.
Sound waves form blood-clad divine generals, soul-reaping envoys, headless Asuras, and more, rushing towards Saint Lord Zuo Mu, trapped in the frozen space.
The residual notes carry immense power.
Even Fang Mofeng and the Meteorite Temple’s three Great Saints feel their heads splitting, retreating swiftly to avoid getting too close.
“Emperor Yu’s flute is terrifying. Without a Great Saint’s mental power, one would go mad under its assault,” one says.
“For the Bloodsky Clan to produce both Zhang Ruochen and Emperor Yu, two peerless powerhouses, is astonishing.”
…
Yan Cuo and Fang Mofeng, merely grazed by the residual sound, struggle to endure.
Saint Lord Zuo Mu, directly targeted by the flute and with his mental power sealed, cannot defend with mental techniques. Soon, agonised roars echo from the frozen space.
Seeing this, Fang Mofeng exhales in relief. “Zhang Ruochen and Emperor Yu are too powerful. Together, Saint Lord Zuo Mu won’t last long. His fate is sealed.”
*Boom.*
A purple lightning pillar pierces the darkness, stretching from the heavens to the ground.
The ground, harder than black iron, shatters under the lightning’s strike, sending debris flying and leaving writhing electric patterns.
Moying, pale, stands at the lightning’s centre, rushing towards Zhang Ruochen and Emperor Yu, transmitting, “Master, Wujiang is here!”
“Hm.”
Zhang Ruochen remains calm, responding briefly.
As his parasitic plant, Moying’s sights, sounds, and experiences reach Zhang Ruochen, no matter the distance.
The moment Moying clashed with Wujiang in the outer heavens, Zhang Ruochen knew.
“Pity, we couldn’t kill Saint Lord Zuo Mu before Wujiang arrived.”
Zhang Ruochen sighs, glancing upwards.
High in the sky, death qi forms spiralling clouds, vibrant Styx flower petals drifting within.
Wujiang stands at the spiral’s centre, radiating an eerie, piercing light.
“Zhang Ruochen, you’ve surprised me. In just a few days, you’ve gained the strength to suppress Saint Lord Zuo Mu. You cannot be spared today.” Wujiang’s voice, melodious, echoes across the Third Dark Star.
Though Prajna and Que Fei spoke of Zhang Ruochen’s prowess, Wujiang hadn’t believed he could challenge Saint Lord Zuo Mu until seeing him suppressed, roaring in agony—an image that shakes Wujiang’s core.
Zhang Ruochen’s growth is too swift. If not killed today, there may never be another chance.
If Zhang Ruochen breaks dozens more shackles, Wujiang might only flee at their next encounter.
Today is the last opportunity.
Wujiang’s eyes flick to Emperor Yu and Moying, his potent mental power sensing their formidable strength. They aren’t foes to be dispatched in a few moves.
In peak condition, Zhang Ruochen, Emperor Yu, and Moying together could dominate the Hunt for Heaven battlefield.
With their emergence, alongside Emperor Blade Hell and Empress Feng, the Undying Blood Clan’s strength rivals the Yama Clan, making them one of the Hunt’s mightiest forces.
“There’s only one way.”
Wujiang’s index and middle fingers join, his arms crossing to form a cross-shaped seal.
The black electric pattern on his brow opens again.
Unlike before, he fully channels his dark energy, hair flying, robes billowing. Influenced by the dark power, his body becomes a void, a spinning black hole in the sky.
*Swish.*
A thick black beam, a metre wide, shoots from the black hole towards Zhang Ruochen, who is fully controlling spatial forces. Resonating with the Dark Star’s energy, the beam grows stronger as it nears the ground.
“Moying, take the Purple-Gold Gourd. Hold him off briefly.”
The gourd at Zhang Ruochen’s waist flies to Moying’s hands.
With a supreme sacred artefact, Moying’s confidence surges. Holding the gourd, her five white fingers release torrents of lightning, pouring into its base.
All supreme inscriptions within the gourd activate.
The gourd shakes, growing into a purple-gold mountain.
From its mouth, a golden flame pillar surges, clashing with the descending dark beam.
*Boom.*
Supreme power and dark energy collide like two rivers, unleashing a tidal wave of force.
Having absorbed many celestial captives, Moying is at her peak. With the supreme artefact’s might, she blocks the dark beam.
The Meteorite Temple’s three Great Saints gasp.
“Another peerless powerhouse? And she calls Zhang Ruochen master. The Bloodsky Clan’s strength is terrifying!” Yan Hanyu’s voice trembles.
Fang Mofeng’s face is grave. “Wujiang aims to attack Zhang Ruochen, break the frozen space, and free Saint Lord Zuo Mu.”
“We can’t let him succeed. Saint Lord Zuo Mu must die. If he survives, his vengeance will kill countless Infernal Court Great Saints. We’ll be his first targets, doomed,” Mo Cuo says.
The three exchange glances, each unleashing a radiant Asura battle qi, injecting it into the Purple-Gold Gourd to aid Moying against Wujiang.
Wujiang snorts, “You think you can stop me?”
Styx flower petals gather behind him, forming exactly one hundred handprints in a circular array.
“How? Wujiang is using Dark Destruction Light and Hundred-Hand Life-Death Seals simultaneously?” Fang Mofeng’s face pales.
Both techniques, Wujiang’s signature moves, surpass ordinary high-tier Thousand-Questions techniques.
His sixty-sixth-tier mental power allows him to wield both at once, effectively doubling his combat strength.
The Hundred-Hand Life-Death Seals descend, creating immense pressure on those below.
Each cultivator on the Dark Star feels a mountain on their back, growing heavier. The Meteorite Temple’s three Great Saints’ legs tremble, forcing them to retract their Asura battle qi to shield themselves.
“Is Wujiang… trying to… kill us all on the Dark Star?” Yan Hanyu collapses first, her protective qi shattered, blood seeping from her pale skin as she trembles.
*Thud.*
Mo Cuo falls next.
The seals, now less than a hundred metres from the ground, unleash death qi, striking every cultivator.
Zhang Ruochen sighs, redirecting his spatial power. All spatial rules surge skyward, forming a massive spatial shield above.
Simultaneously, dragon and elephant souls manifest in his arms. He lightly presses a palm upward.
*Crack!*
The dozens-of-metres-thick spatial shield shatters instantly under the seals, space reverting to formlessness.
The next moment, Zhang Ruochen’s palm, amplified by truth rules, unleashes tenfold power, forming a golden hand thousands of metres long, clashing with the seals.
*Boom.*
The Third Dark Star, thousands of miles wide, trembles slightly.
The hundred handprints shatter, becoming a rain of Styx flower petals, drifting down.
Meanwhile, the dark and supreme power beams dissipate. Wujiang in the sky and Moying on the ground each step back.
In this exchange, Wujiang gains no advantage.
After a moment’s thought, he says, “I miscalculated. During the Holy Intent Pill contest, I missed my chance to kill you. Now, with the Saint-Devouring Flower, you can match me.”
Zhang Ruochen replies, “Even without her, you’re not necessarily my match.”
Wujiang smiles. “Your Way of Truth is strong, granting tenfold attack power. But your body, even a demi-god’s, can only sustain so many such strikes.”
“You broke my Hundred-Hand Life-Death Seals once. Can you do it ten times?”
“And you forget, my true strength lies in mental power and illusions. During the pill contest, without Princess Luo Sha, you’d have died in my Ten-Thousand-Eye Illusion.”
Zhang Ruochen glances at Saint Lord Zuo Mu, trapped in space.
Without his support, the frozen space is nearly broken, and Emperor Yu’s flute can no longer suppress him.
Zhang Ruochen says, “Wujiang, the Hunt for Heaven aims to kill celestial captives. Why not kill Saint Lord Zuo Mu first, then we fight?”
“If he dies, your Bloodsky Clan’s three powerhouses, with two supreme artefacts, would overwhelm me,” Wujiang sneers.
Once, Zhang Ruochen and Emperor Yu were beneath his notice. Now, they’re undeniable threats.
Zhang Ruochen says, “So, you plan to free Saint Lord Zuo Mu, ally with him against me?”
“Exactly.”
Wujiang doesn’t hide his intent.
Zhang Ruochen shakes his head. “Allying with a celestial captive to kill Infernal Court Great Saints? If the gods see this, it could ruin your future in the Infernal Court. Do you think the Dark Star’s power can truly block their perception?”
“What if they see? You and Saint Lord Zuo Mu will both die by my hand,” Wujiang says confidently, unconcerned if Saint Lord Zuo Mu hears.
It’s a three-way struggle, each aiming to kill the others.
Enemies and allies shift in a moment.
Facing Wujiang, Zhang Ruochen must focus entirely, unable to spare attention as Saint Lord Zuo Mu nears escape. He shouts, “Moying, aid Emperor Yu. Ensure Saint Lord Zuo Mu is killed. I’ll handle Wujiang.”
Zhang Ruochen grabs the Purple-Gold Gourd, his ten wings unfurling as he soars to attack Wujiang.
He recalls the gourd, knowing Wujiang likely wields the Styx Clan’s supreme artefact. Only a supreme artefact can counter another.
“Good! I’ll defeat you one-on-one, seizing your Yuanhui-level genius fate.”
Wujiang laughs, his brow’s black electric pattern opening. No dark beam emerges; instead, ten thousand eyes appear, casting the *Ten-Thousand-Eye Illusion* that once trapped Zhang Ruochen.
With his sixty-sixth-tier mental power and illusion master status, even Lan Ying and Emperor Yama would tread carefully.
In an illusion, even a moment’s lapse could be fatal.
