Spending these past few days with Chi Kongle, Zhang Ruochen felt an indescribable mix of emotions stirring within him. The loneliness and solitude in his heart seemed to fade considerably.
In truth, he was reluctant to part.
But he had no choice but to leave.
Zhang Ruochen compiled the second move of the Time Sword Technique, *Eight Variations of Scale*, into a booklet and left it with Chi Kongle.
Chi Kongle held the booklet, her flickering eyes glistening with a hint of moisture, “I’ve heard that the evil gods of the Hell Realm are about to breach the Kunlun Realm’s Heaven and Earth Altar, a great war might erupt soon. Will you return to fight alongside us, to fend off the invaders together?”
“To many cultivators in the Kunlun Realm, I’m an even more detestable internal enemy,” Zhang Ruochen replied.
Chi Kongle seemed to sense the bitterness and helplessness in his heart, falling silent.
Zhang Ruochen clasped his hands behind his back, stepping into the void. Ripples spread beneath his feet as he moved, each step covering ten li, soon vanishing from Chi Kongle’s sight.
…
**Heavenly Capital Saint Market, Hundred Flowers Palace**
Zhang Ruochen met with Fairy Hundred Flowers, Ji Fanxin, and began opening the boxes on the bronze table, inspecting the items he had ordered.
“Royal Grade Saint Jade Essence.”
“Rootless Heavenly Crane Flower.”
“Heavenly Path Blood Stone. Not bad, not bad, the Fairy truly has far-reaching influence to procure even a Heavenly Path Blood Stone.”
Opening the fourth box, which contained a small black bottle, Zhang Ruochen examined the liquid inside and frowned slightly, “Only fifty drops? I requested a hundred.”
Ji Fanxin sat behind a screen, serene as an orchid and beautiful as a painting’s fairy, giving Zhang Ruochen a sidelong glance, “Cosmic Void Tears are incredibly rare, each drop is a challenge to find. Gathering fifty drops already required me to tap every connection I have.”
Closing the box, Zhang Ruochen smiled, “Fifty drops it is then! How much for all these items, plus the twelve Saint King realm elephant souls?”
“Eight hundred million saint stones,” Ji Fanxin said.
Even though Zhang Ruochen had braced himself, the figure still startled him.
Such a sum was astronomical to most Saint Kings, an amount they couldn’t amass in a thousand years.
“I’m a regular customer, can’t you offer a discount?” he asked.
Ji Fanxin’s expression remained calm as still water, “You should know that just the Heavenly Path Blood Stone alone fetches three hundred million saint stones on the market—and with your identity, you wouldn’t even be able to buy it.”
“Cosmic Void Tears go for nearly ten million saint stones per drop on the market. Fifty drops would be five hundred million. As for the other items, which one costs less than a hundred million saint stones?”
“Given our acquaintance, I’ve already given you a substantial discount, eight hundred million saint stones is the reduced price.”
“Of course, if you find it too expensive, you could opt for lesser alternatives, crafting a slightly inferior Dao body for your sword spirit.”
For the first time, Zhang Ruochen realised that the ethereal Fairy Hundred Flowers, who seemed untouched by worldly concerns, was a shrewd businesswoman, impossible to outmanoeuvre.
“No need, I’ll take them all.”
He began pulling treasures from his spatial ring—Ten Thousand Pattern Saint Weapons, saint pills, talismans, and various oddities.
All were spoils from the Sumeru Dojo battle.
His spatial ring was like a treasure vault, brimming with countless precious items. Ji Fanxin’s luminous eyes sparkled as she watched, “It seems the Paradise Realm indeed suffered a massive loss, letting you strike it rich. No wonder their gods were alarmed, rushing to the Truth Heavenly Domain in person.”
“Gods from the Paradise Realm have come to the Truth Heavenly Domain?” Zhang Ruochen’s heart skipped a beat.
Ji Fanxin gestured for Qian Liwen to appraise the treasures’ value, then said slowly, “I’ve heard some rumours. Want to know more? Trade me some information.”
“What kind?” Zhang Ruochen asked.
“What exactly happened at the Sumeru Dojo?” Ji Fanxin replied.
Zhang Ruochen was slightly surprised, “With your status, you couldn’t find out?”
Ji Fanxin shook her head, “The Temple of Truth has sealed off the news. Apart from the beings of the Kunlun and Paradise Realms, outsiders only know that the Sumeru Dojo battle resulted in heavy casualties, with the Paradise Realm taking a big hit. But the specifics—what happened, the extent of the losses, who died—haven’t leaked out.”
Zhang Ruochen paused, realising the battle’s impact was even greater than he’d imagined.
The Temple of Truth sealing the news made sense. Such a devastating event, with such staggering casualties, was unprecedented since the temple’s founding.
What piqued his curiosity was how the Temple of Truth would handle it.
Would they force him to release all the Paradise Realm Saint Kings he’d suppressed in the temple?
He then recounted the events of the Sumeru Dojo battle in broad strokes. Ji Fanxin’s expression shifted repeatedly, ending in sheer astonishment.
Nearby, Qian Liwen’s eyelids twitched in fear, tempted to flee and distance himself from Zhang Ruochen to avoid being implicated.
Ji Fanxin, far more composed than Qian Liwen, quickly regained her calm, “Why bother? It’s the Kunlun Realm’s affair, why get involved? The Paradise Realm suffered such a colossal loss, they’ll retaliate fiercely. Next time, they won’t leave you any chance of survival, and those around you will be dragged in too.”
Zhang Ruochen shrugged nonchalantly, “Even if I didn’t get involved, the Paradise Realm wouldn’t let me off. Which god from the Paradise Realm came to the Truth Heavenly Domain?”
“Lord Yan,” Ji Fanxin answered.
A cold glint flashed in Zhang Ruochen’s eyes, “That old dog, what’s he doing here?”
Shang Ziyan’s repeated attempts to kill him were surely orchestrated by Lord Yan, fueling Zhang Ruochen’s deep hatred.
Qian Liwen’s legs trembled, stunned by Zhang Ruochen’s audacity to insult a god. With Lord Yan in the Truth Heavenly Domain, a god’s perception might have caught the insult.
Cold sweat trickled down Qian Liwen’s back as he glanced up, fearing divine retribution might strike them all.
Ji Fanxin remained unfazed, casting Qian Liwen a glance, “No need to be so nervous, Elder Qian, this is the Mandala Flower God’s dojo, Lord Yan can’t hear us.”
She continued, “Lord Yan came to the Truth Heavenly Domain likely to save the Saint Kings you’ve suppressed. But with an incident this severe, the Temple of Truth must be furious, rescuing them will cost him dearly.”
“If the Paradise Realm strikes a deal with the Temple of Truth and asks you to release them, will you, Young Master Ruochen?”
Zhang Ruochen smiled without answering, “Elder Qian, how’s the appraisal? How much are these treasures worth in saint stones?”
Qian Liwen approached cautiously, his gaze towards Zhang Ruochen now tinged with awe, no longer seeing him as a mere youth. He bowed, “Young Master Ruochen, all the treasures combined are worth approximately five hundred seventy million saint stones.”
“So, I’m still short thirty million saint stones?”
As Zhang Ruochen reached into his spatial ring for more, Ji Fanxin spoke, “Forget the thirty million saint stones! Don’t forget your promise, Young Master Ruochen, when I visit the Kunlun Realm, I’ll come find you.”
Back at the Moon God Dojo, Zhang Ruochen met with Su Jing.
During this time, Su Jing had used vast sums of saint stones and connections but only managed to gather five drops of Cosmic Void Tears and a small amount of Royal Grade Saint Jade Essence, failing to acquire the Heavenly Path Blood Stone or Rootless Heavenly Crane Flower.
Zhang Ruochen felt a twinge of disappointment, postponing the plan to forge a Dao body for the Shen Yuan Ancient Sword’s spirit.
“First, I’ll cultivate the eleventh palm of the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Palm.”
Carrying twelve Saint King-grade dragon souls and twelve Saint King-grade elephant souls, he entered the Moon God Dojo’s underground palace, arriving at the edge of the Yin-Yang Pool.
The Yin-Yang Hall had occupied the Moon God Dojo for countless years, constructing the Yin Pool and Yang Pool underground, amassing vast yin and yang qi, turning it into a cultivation treasure trove.
Cultivating the eleventh palm of the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Palm required an environment of extreme yang and heat.
The Yang Pool was precisely such a place.
Thirteen zhang in diameter, its waters burned hotter than magma, glowing a vivid crimson.
“My arms already contain one dragon soul and one elephant soul, if I refine these twelve dragon souls and twelve elephant souls into them, their strength and explosive power will surge dramatically. Achieving mastery of the eleventh palm will be much easier.”
Zhang Ruochen sat cross-legged by the Yang Pool, beginning to refine the dragon and elephant souls.
In an hour, he refined eight dragon souls and eight elephant souls consecutively. But as he started on the ninth, he felt the strain.
A human body’s capacity was limited, exceeding it risked backlash.
The Black Demon Realm’s prodigy, Zhan Yu, had fused twelve dragon souls across his entire body. Zhang Ruochen, however, was concentrating them all into his left arm, exponentially increasing the difficulty.
By the tenth dragon and elephant souls, a piercing, bone-deep pain shot through his arms, his skin splitting slightly, blood gushing out.
His arms felt on the verge of bursting.
Gritting his teeth, Zhang Ruochen circulated the *Nine Heavens Bright Emperor Scripture*, using saint qi to suppress the souls, forcibly merging them into his arms—skin, flesh, bones, and meridians.
“Two more dragon and elephant souls to go.”
With a leap, he plunged into the Yang Pool with a splash.
The intense heat instantly reduced his saint robes to ash.
Enduring the scalding waters, Zhang Ruochen seized a dragon soul and began refining it. Simultaneously, the pool’s thick yang qi seeped into his pores, flooding his body.
Each strand of yang qi was like a wisp of flame.
“Bang, bang.”
As he refined, he struck out with the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Palm, tempering his flesh and bones to fuse the dragon soul with his arm.
Refining the eleventh dragon and elephant souls took three full hours. During this time, his arms shattered over a dozen times, each rupture excruciating, nearly causing Zhang Ruochen to faint despite his mental fortitude.
Yet he persisted, refusing to give up.
Fusing just one Saint King-grade dragon and elephant soul would suffice to master the eleventh palm.
But after his clash with Shang Ziyan, Zhang Ruochen realised there were still prodigies who could rival or even surpass him.
He had to push further, never settling for less.
“One last dragon and elephant soul.”
He pressed on, the yang qi in his body growing denser, his skin turning a molten gold hue, his eyes blazing like twin fireballs.
After countless arm fractures, his saint blood mingled with the Yang Pool’s waters.
Half a day later, a deafening roar erupted from the pool.
“Roar!”
A dragon’s cry followed.
A crimson-gold dragon, wreathed in dazzling flames, burst from the Yang Pool, its claws slamming into the palace ceiling, activating a web of array inscriptions.
“Rumble.”
The entire Moon God Dojo trembled violently above ground.
