After transforming into He Yuan, Zhang Ruochen’s left leg remained burdensome, causing an uneven gait he couldn’t control.
This was a glaring flaw!
Thus, he dared not act too boldly, suppressing his aura, stealthily slipping into Tongming River’s depths.
At the underwater dragon palace, he found its array inscriptions shattered, around the towering dragon tomb stood dozens of figures in black robes, exuding eerie, sinister vibes.
The tomb, fortified by Golden Dragon’s Greater Saint inscriptions, should’ve been impregnable even to Ninth-Step Saint Kings, yet You God Palace had corroded it with demon god blood.
The tomb was breached, its southeast corner collapsed in a vast chunk.
Two black-robed cultivators radiated formidable auras, pressuring even Zhang Ruochen—undoubtedly Ninth-Step Saint Kings.
One, below the tomb, wore white bone armour encasing their body, age and gender obscured.
The armour, forged from a Greater Saint’s immortal bones, retained saintly rules and bore defensive inscriptions.
Behind them stood two rotting corpses.
Though decayed, their flesh and skin gleamed metallic, like death gods, their thick deathly aura blackening the water within dozens of zhang.
The other Ninth-Step Saint King stood atop the tomb, hands clasped, about fifty or sixty, broad-chested, white-streaked hair floating in the water, his presence outstripping the armoured figure and corpses combined.
Beyond them, seven or eight black-robed elites lingered, all top-tier.
Zhang Ruochen dared not act rashly, growing more cautious, musing, “That bone-armoured one’s likely He Yuan’s master, Zangxin Venerable—dual cultivator of divine and martial arts, expert in dragon-seeking and corpse-refining, commanding dozens of potent war corpses, far stronger than Yuan Che.”
“The one atop the tomb’s probably Zangxin’s junior, Feng Chengdao, nearing Major Rule Heaven.”
Zangxin held an ancient compass, pouring saint qi into it.
“Swish.”
A vortex formed in the water, centred on the compass.
More precisely, the world’s spiritual qi surged, dragging the water along, creating this odd phenomenon.
After half an hour, Zangxin’s eyes gleamed with excitement, hands trembling, “The Heaven-Earth Polarity Compass sensed that dragon corpse deep underground, give me more time—I’ll pinpoint it, no matter how deep, I’ll dig it out.”
Half of You God Palace’s cultivators knelt, “Congratulations, Venerable.”
Feng Chengdao laughed, “Splendid! Unearth that corpse, refine it into a Dragon Emperor war corpse, and we’ll dominate the Eastern Domain, sacred lands’ saintly herbs ours for the taking—Greater Sainthood awaits, haha!”
“I can’t wait any longer.”
Zhang Ruochen’s heart tightened, racking his brain for a plan.
Suddenly, he drew a Ten Thousand Pattern saint weapon dagger, slashing his left leg.
“Clang!”
It didn’t pierce the skin, leaving only a white mark that soon faded.
With a wry smile, he gashed five bloody wounds elsewhere, smearing blood on his leg, stowed the dagger, and stumbled towards the tomb in feigned panic.
“Disaster! Master, Zhang Ruochen’s stormed Tongming River!”
He rushed to Zangxin, tripping forward, thudding heavily to the ground.
You God Palace’s cultivators tensed, summoning saint weapons, peering behind him.
“I’m busy excavating the dragon corpse—no time for him, yet he dares deliver himself to death,” Zangxin cackled sinisterly, dispatching the two corpses to intercept.
Then, “He Yuan” on the ground snapped up, unleashing a black streak.
A spatial rift.
“You…”
So close, Zangxin sensed the spatial fluctuation but couldn’t dodge, twisting to shield vital spots.
“Pfft.”
The rift severed his right arm, blood staining the water red.
Zangxin’s eyes flashed with confusion and fury.
Zhang Ruochen, not lingering, grabbed the arm and spatially shifted away.
Sensing the shift, Zangxin roared, “It’s you, Zhang Ruochen!”
“Youhan Palm.”
His lone arm surged with countless saintly rules, striking in rage, shattering Zhang Ruochen’s form.
“Damn it, just an afterimage—pursue!”
His furious bellow rippled, trembling the water for hundreds of li, whipping up zhang-high waves.
“Swish.”
Zhang Ruochen emerged onshore, left shoulder bones crushed, flesh mangled, searing pain numbing half his body.
He hadn’t fully evaded Zangxin’s strike, suffering grave wounds.
“Ninth-Step Saint Kings are terrifying—even with a major spatial shift, I was half a beat slow, a touch more, and I’d have lost half my life down there.”
“Master, this way.”
Moyin waited ashore, pushing the Golden Dragon Carriage to its limit.
Zhang Ruochen leapt aboard, nine golden dragons hauling it skyward, outpacing even Ninth-Step Saint Kings.
Inside, he swallowed a healing saint pill, eyeing Zangxin’s severed arm.
It clutched a black ancient compass.
“This is Zangxin’s Heaven-Earth Polarity Compass—without it, pinpointing Senior Golden Dragon’s remains won’t be easy.”
As he reached for it, the arm blazed with saint light, dropping the compass, striking his chest.
Zhang Ruochen’s face shifted, warping space to deflect it.
“Ninth-Step Saint Kings are strong, but a mere arm can’t handle me.”
He activated the carriage’s array inscriptions, suppressing the arm, then unleashed Chenyan-grade Purifying Divine Fire, reducing it to ash.
On Tongming River.
Sensing his arm’s connection vanish, Zangxin’s eyes turned blood-red, loathing Zhang Ruochen utterly.
At Ninth-Step Saint King, a severed, destroyed arm couldn’t regrow perfectly—even with pills, a forced regrowth would be flawed, hindering his immortal saint body and Greater Saint ascent.
This might doom his Greater Saint hopes forever.
“Boom.”
Feng Chengdao surfaced, shouting, “They won’t escape.”
“Heaven-Earth Circle, Skyward Strike.”
Nearly ten million saintly rules poured from him, forming a dozens-of-li circular seal beneath his feet, drawing world spiritual and saint qi endlessly.
He pointed skyward.
“Swish.”
A dazzling beam shot out, catching the Golden Dragon Carriage a thousand li away.
Ground-dwellers saw the sky’s light trail, “rumbling” echoing, saintly power felling countless civilians, blood streaming from orifices.
On the carriage, Zhang Ruochen and Moyin poured all their strength into the Eight Dragon Umbrella.
“Roar!”
It swelled to cloud-size, eight golden dragons intertwining, forming a grand Eight Dragon Diagram.
“Bang!”
The beam struck, jolting the carriage, nearly crashing it.
Having travelled a thousand li, the beam’s power waned, blocked by Zhang Ruochen and Moyin.
Feng Chengdao clearly saw the clash, frowning, “I thought Zhang Ruochen borrowed Moon God’s power to defeat Blackheart Demon Lord’s divine clone, now I see I underestimated him—low realm, yet a vexing foe, he must be eliminated soon.”
Zangxin spat venomously, “Since he’s back in Yunwu Commandery, he cares for its humans, to Yunwu Royal City—he’ll show himself.”
As they led You God Palace cultivators there, Zhang Ruochen sent a messaging light talisman to Zhenmiao Little Taoist.
Soon, a reply came, “Yunwu Royal City’s humans are all in the Spatial Exquisite Orb’s inner world.”
Zhang Ruochen exhaled in relief, instructing Zhenmiao to retreat to King Mountain with Xie Chengzi, Tunxiang Rabbit, and Demonic Ape.
With spatial and temporal arrays, King Mountain could withstand You God Palace briefly, Zhenmiao wielding a supreme saint weapon and the evil spirit guarding it weren’t powerless.
En route back, another talisman arrived.
Luo Xu had sent two divine stones to Qianshui Royal City’s Wu City Bank branch for Zhang Ruochen to collect.
“Wu City Bank’s efficiency is unmatched.”
Elated, he steered the Golden Dragon Carriage towards Qianshui Royal City, eager for the divine stones.
