Eastern Domain King Chen Yin stood atop a collapsed spiritual mountain, gripping a blood-drenched war halberd with one hand, his posture rigid. His body bore countless wounds, evidence of a brutal fight.
His gaze swept the surroundings.
Before him lay a sea of corpses and blood, a desolate wasteland.
The surviving Half-Saints and Saints of the Eastern Domain Saint King Mansion were mostly gravely injured. Some Half-Saints teetered on the brink of bodily collapse.
Led by The Traveller and The Wanderer, the saint-level cultivators all wore black robes, shrouded in dark mist to conceal their forms and faces.
Clearly, they feared exposure, wary of evidence reaching the Heavenly Palace or Merit God Hall.
Black-robed figures stood below the mountain, halting their assault.
Instead, a trace of caution flickered in their eyes.
Earlier, Chen Yin had unleashed a talisman, forming a beam of slaughtering light that felled a Nine-Step Saint King.
That light was fearsome—even elites like The Traveller and The Wanderer weren’t certain they could withstand it.
A relic from a Middle Ages Chen Clan ancestor, it was part of their dwindling reserves.
Hua Zangying fanned his white bone fan lightly, hovering gracefully midair, his voice melodious, “Chen Yin, your stubborn resistance will only doom the Chen Clan. Hand over the *Forty-Nine Mysteries Technique* willingly, and we might spare you and your kin.”
Chen Yin laughed loudly, “Spare us? Do you take me for a three-year-old? I’ll tell you plain—you won’t wipe out the Chen Clan. Even if I die here, someone will avenge us, settling this blood debt.”
“Obstinate fool.”
A three-yard-tall bald figure snorted, “Bring up the Chen Clan’s direct descendants. I’ll devour them before this Eastern Domain King.”
Dozens of Chen Clan direct descendants were herded to the bald figure’s side.
His cultivation matched The Traveller and The Wanderer. Releasing saintly might, he forced the group to their knees.
“Roar!”
A howl erupted from his mouth as grotesque ridges sprouted atop his head, transforming it into a massive, beastly maw.
The beast head loomed over the descendants, baring knife-sharp fangs, reeking of blood.
A young Chen Clan member, trembling with fear, wailed, “Saint King Great-Grandfather… save Xun’er… I don’t… don’t want to die…”
Chen Yin’s eyes blazed with fury, roaring, “You’ll all pay!”
His defiance rang hollow, powerless.
“Crunch.”
The three-yard-tall beast-headed being bit down on the head of “Xun’er,” swallowing him whole with a flick of its neck.
The scene was gruesome.
“Kill!”
A Chen Clan Saint, ignoring Chen Yin’s restraint, charged desperately at the beast-headed figure.
Mid-flight, his body ignited, golden cracks splitting his skin.
“A mere lower-realm Saint dares to self-detonate against me? Pathetic.”
The beast-headed being sneered, summoning a silver-white bangle. It struck the Saint, shattering his body.
But the explosion’s energy veered, hitting the Chen Clan descendants.
“Boom, boom.”
A series of blasts.
The group vanished, reduced to a blood mist.
Thick blood qi drifted in the air.
Hua Zangying shook his head, chuckling, “Tragic, truly tragic. Why bother?”
Chen Yin’s eyes were bloodshot, hands bleeding from his grip. Never since becoming Eastern Domain King had he felt such rage, yearning to slaughter every foe at any cost.
But he lacked the power—his enemies were too strong.
“Rumble.”
Suddenly, the saintly energy and rules of the world quaked.
Ancient inscriptions emerged from the mansion’s depths, weaving a web-like lattice.
The Traveller, The Wanderer, the beast-headed figure, Hua Zangying, and others started, activating saintly armour and robes for protection.
Soon, Hua Zangying laughed aloud, “No need to panic—Lord Shenya must have triggered the ancient inscriptions. The Eastern Domain Holy City is ours…”
“Boom.”
Lightning struck from above, incinerating Hua Zangying into ash.
A formidable Nine-Step Saint King died instantly, his protective robe reduced to cinders.
His tattered, smoking white bone fan fell to the ground.
All present froze in shock.
What caused this twist?
“Could it not be Lord Shenya controlling the inscriptions?” The attackers’ hearts sank, sensing disaster.
The mansion’s cultivators erupted in joy.
“It must be Ancestor Yuhua activating the Torchfire Tower, unleashing the ancient inscriptions… Perfect—kill them all…”
“With the ancient inscriptions active, all enemies will turn to dust.”
…
…
At that moment, a towering saintly tower appeared above the Eastern Domain Holy City.
Zhang Ruochen stood atop it, overlooking the vast land below. The city’s mountains and rivers unfurled like a map before him.
He seemed to reign over all.
Cultivators on the ground gaped at the tiny black figure atop the tower.
“It’s… it’s Zhang Ruochen.”
A sharp-eyed cultivator recognised him, exclaiming.
“It’s really Zhang Ruochen. Is that the legendary Torchfire Tower beneath him?”
“He’s one of Kunlun Realm’s own—he won’t let foreign cultivators run rampant here.”
“He was once a student at our Eastern Domain Saint Academy—same department as me.”
The Traveller and The Wanderer exchanged glances.
They attacked simultaneously.
The Traveller spat purple mist, encasing a shuttle-shaped saintly weapon.
“Swish, swish…”
Waves of saintly power radiated from it.
In three breaths, seven layers formed, unleashing the weapon’s Seven-Yao Full Power.
The Wanderer clasped his hands, forming a finger technique—a mid-tier Buddhist saint art, the Lesser Kun Tun Finger, infused with over a hundred thousand finger rules.
“Boom.”
The ancient inscriptions gathered in the void, forming two seven-mile-long golden python phantoms. They surged, clashing with the shuttle and finger light.
The shuttle trembled, its seven waves shattering as it fell.
The finger light dissolved into golden specks.
But the pythons persisted, diving from the sky toward The Traveller and The Wanderer.
“Zhang Ruochen can control the ancient inscriptions?” “They’re unstoppable—retreat!”
Their faces paled, deploying their strongest defences and fastest movement techniques to evade.
“Boom.”
“Boom.”
Two deafening blasts shook the main city, mushroom clouds rising as saintly storms raged.
The Traveller lost his right side, surviving only because his head remained intact.
The Wanderer’s lower body was pulped below the waist.
“Zhang Ruochen controls the inscriptions—kill him, or we’re all dead here,” The Traveller roared, fleeing the mansion.
“Whirl!”
Above, inscriptions converged into a storm vortex of cutting winds.
Each gust outmatched a saintly blade.
“Crash.”
The vortex plunged, striking the beast-headed Nine-Step Saint King. He summoned his silver bangle, forming a protective light.
It held for a mere instant before the winds pierced it.
“No… impossible… I can’t stop it…”
His saintly body shattered into a crimson mist, bones ground to dust.
The vortex swept on, targeting other saint-level foes. Anyone caught within perished, no matter their cultivation.
In moments, over a dozen saint-level cultivators fell.
“Insolence.”
A thirty-yard-long blood handprint burst from a blood cloud, smashing the vortex apart.
A mysterious expert, rivaling the Domain of the Dao, had acted.
Hidden in the cloud, his form was obscured, only four massive blood wings faintly visible.
Their gentle flaps stirred hurricanes.
Zhang Ruochen asked, “Who is he?”
Grand Dawn King bit her lip, silent.
“Working for me is that hard? You’ve already killed so many Heavenly Realm faction Saints—what secrets can’t you share?” Zhang Ruochen pressed.
She glared, teeth clenched, feeling he was a demon dragging her into an abyss.
Her earlier manipulation of the inscriptions, slaughtering Heavenly Realm Saints, had surely been recorded by him. Even if she escaped, she’d be under his thumb.
Zhang Ruochen held a scroll, unfurling it.
She’d guessed right—he’d captured it all.
Her chest heaved sharply before she relented, “He’s Tianchen, the previous generation’s Four-Winged Crimson Angel of the Blood War Temple, at the Greater Rule Heaven level.”
“You’ve faced this generation’s Four-Winged Crimson Angel—you know their might.”
“Though not at the Domain of the Dao, Tianchen once defeated Jie Canghai, who was. Zhang Ruochen, you can’t afford to provoke him now.”
