The graceful woman stepped forward, her lotus-like strides carrying her toward the altar.
A Nether River emerged beneath her feet, flowing slowly, its origin and end unknown, as if it spanned the entire world.
Gleaming with divine light, countless rules swirled within the river. She seemed a supreme deity, treading all the rules of heaven and earth underfoot.
Witnessing this phenomenon, the three white-robed priests trembled inwardly, nearly compelled to kneel and worship.
In an instant, she ascended the altar. Rules of fate materialized, forming chains that seemed capable of seizing the destiny of any being.
These chains extended toward the death god shadow, drawing in death thought power and the Northern Region’s revival energy.
The Way of Fate was wondrous, able to absorb any force in existence.
“Buzz.”
Space quivered faintly as countless fate rules wove into a strange light gate behind her—the Gate of Destiny.
Compared to the one conjured by the Martial Realm’s emperor, hers was far larger and more solid, their mastery of fate on entirely different levels.
The three priests watched with envy. Apart from Source Demon Divine Son, only this Fate Temple divine maiden candidate could so casually harness the altar’s gathered power.
Though their status in the Death God Temple was high, and guarding the altar granted them some energy, it paled beside what Source Demon Divine Son and this woman could claim.
“Boom.”
A formidable aura abruptly descended into the underground space, vast deathly evil qi surging, faintly forming a nether land.
Within it stood a gallant man in pitch-black armor, wielding a demonic spear, exuding an overwhelming presence—like a peerless demon king from hell.
The three priests hastily bowed. “Greetings, Your Highness the Divine Son.”
Source Demon Divine Son’s return now surprised them, but they soon understood. Pursuing this Fate Temple candidate, how could he not rush here upon her arrival?
He ignored the priests, his focus solely on the woman. “Lady Prajna’s visit delights me. Why didn’t you inform me? I’d have welcomed you personally.”
“I came on a whim to see this place—no need to trouble Your Highness. Besides, I’m merely a candidate, not the divine maiden,” Prajna replied coolly.
Unfazed by her aloofness, Source Demon Divine Son laughed. “With my full support, you’ll soon be the Fate Temple’s divine maiden.”
“Do I need anyone’s help to achieve that?” Prajna retorted coldly.
He nodded. “True, with your ability, you’ll surely succeed alone. Still, I’d like to assist.”
The priests were stunned by his words.
In their memory, Source Demon Divine Son was domineering, brooking no defiance, never one to compromise.
Prajna was the exception. Since she appeared in the Fate Temple years ago, he’d been smitten, bending to her will, a changed man.
Yet Prajna seemed utterly indifferent, an unyielding iceberg despite his ardent pursuit, never warming to him.
Even so, he persisted, growing more determined, as if he’d never relent until he won her.
Prajna was indeed extraordinary. Years ago, she emerged in the Nether Purgatory as a mere soul, enduring the Nether Fire and Thunder Tribulations repeatedly with unyielding resolve.
This caught a Fate Temple luminary’s eye, who took her in, grooming her swiftly into one of three top divine maiden candidates.
Backed by that figure and her own prodigious talent, she’d mastered the Way of Fate to a staggering degree in mere years, needing no aid to claim the title.
Only a mysterious, powerful woman like her could captivate Source Demon Divine Son, undeterred by rejection, his interest only deepening.
Ignoring him further, Prajna refocused on absorbing the altar’s power.
Unperturbed, Source Demon Divine Son joined her on the altar, employing arcane methods to draw energy.
A towering Gate of Destiny rose behind him, nearly matching Prajna’s in stature.
He too was a Fate Temple disciple—a divine disciple of exalted status—bold enough to claim he could aid her ascent.
The priests stood silently aside, not daring to interrupt as Prajna and Source Demon Divine Son cultivated.
—
**Northern Region Camp**
In Zhen Yuan’s manor, Zhang Ruochen recounted all he’d seen in Immortal Machine Mountain.
“The Death Clan set up such a sinister altar there—they’re plotting something big. This is serious; we should summon the leaders of the major worlds to discuss,” Zhen Yuan mused.
Zhang Ruochen’s intel was critical and demanded attention.
As the Taoist lineage leader, Zhen Yuan wielded immense influence.
At his summons, leaders from various worlds arrived swiftly.
The camp housed countless cultivators from Heavenly Court’s subordinate worlds, including many top powerhouses, essential to stalling the Death Clan’s advance.
In no time, dozens of elite figures gathered, each with formidable backgrounds.
As they mingled, a breathtaking figure wreathed in immortal qi descended, radiant light spilling forth, capturing all eyes.
Zhen Yuan greeted her first. “Junior Brother Zhang, this is Fairy Yuan of Shangyuan Sect. You’ve likely heard of her.”
Zhang Ruochen smiled. “Fairy Yuan’s fame precedes her. It’s an honor to meet her today. I’ve had dealings with Shangyuan Sect—my friend Luo Yi hails from there.”
He subtly probed Luo Yi’s origins through Fairy Yuan.
She turned to Luo Yi, surprised. “You’re from Shangyuan Sect? Why don’t I know you?”
“With countless disciples, it’s normal you don’t recognize me, Senior Sister,” Luo Yi replied.
Fairy Yuan shook her head. “Though numerous, those of your caliber are renowned. I couldn’t not know you.”
“Perhaps you’re too absolute, Senior Sister. I am indeed from Shangyuan Sect, but I rarely interact with peers. I’m a secret disciple of Great Saint Xuanmeng.”
Luo Yi smiled, calm and composed.
Fairy Yuan nodded. “Great Saint Xuanmeng does have secret disciples. I didn’t expect you to be one, Junior Brother Luo Yi. Your future is boundless.”
“Compared to you, Senior Sister, my achievements are trivial,” Luo Yi said with a laugh.
Listening, Zhang Ruochen’s mind raced, piecing together clues.
Zhen Yuan gestured. “Fairy, please.”
Fairy Yuan nodded, stepping gracefully into the hall.
“Senior Brother Zhen Yuan, I’m not fond of such gatherings. I’ll leave it to you,” Zhang Ruochen said.
A cold laugh echoed from the hall. “Some self-awareness, at least. A minor figure like you has no place here—scram!”
Blatant provocation.
The astute cultivators present sensed a spectacle brewing.
The speaker bore ten eyes on its forehead, an eerie sight.
It was Ten-Eyed Qiankun Insect, one of You God Temple’s Six Elites, a primordial relic with fearsome potential and strength.
Zhang Ruochen’s blood feud with You God Temple was deep—You God’s sons’ deaths tied to him, as were the falls of Six Elites’ Laiwang Ren and Qu Xingzhe in the Eastern Region.
It’d be odd if Ten-Eyed Qiankun Insect didn’t target him.
Were this not the camp, it might’ve already attacked.
Capturing or killing Zhang Ruochen was a grand merit, richly rewarded by You God.
Beside it sat a refined young man with a folding fan, his aura ever-shifting, elusive.
Another of the Six Elites, Hundred Changes Smiling Life, a master of endless transformation, his true face unseen.
Unlike the Chen Clan’s Four-Nine Mystic Art, his changes were an innate gift, profoundly mysterious.
A peerless assassin, he could become anyone, impossible to guard against.
“They say you slew hundreds of thousands of Undying Blood Clan at the Sword Tomb. I don’t buy it. With your Minor Rule Heaven cultivation, you killed their divine sons? Blood Butcher Divine Son beat an Immortal Great Saint—could you handle him?” another voice scoffed, dripping with disdain.
The speaker was tall, eyes ruthless, exuding potent demonic qi—a clear demonic cultivator.
“Black Demon Realm’s Shi Lingkun.”
Zhang Ruochen recognized him, a glint in his eye.
Shi Lingkun, a top Black Demon Realm talent, mastered the *Heavenly Demon Saber Extraction Diagram*, his saber skills surpassing Jie Canghai’s.
Beside him sat other Black Demon Realm powerhouses, all steeped in demonic qi, far from benign.
Their mission in Kunlun Realm was to find the true *Thirty-Six Heavenly Demon Stone Carvings*, aiming to sever Kunlun’s legacy—a vicious intent.
As Ten-Eyed Qiankun Insect and Shi Lingkun targeted him, most in the hall watched with interest, curious for Zhang Ruochen’s response.
He remained calm, unruffled, glancing faintly at them.
With a gesture, the Azure Sky Pagoda appeared.
“What are you doing?”
Ten-Eyed Qiankun Insect tensed warily.
Zhang Ruochen smirked coldly. The pagoda quivered, azure light spilling forth, releasing Black Flame General.
Fully restrained, Black Flame General was powerless.
“That’s Chi Xing Divine Son’s third general, Black Flame General—Zhang Ruochen suppressed him?”
Someone recognized him, shocked.
Some had clashed with Black Flame General on the merit battlefield, knowing his formidable strength.
Instantly, many looked at Zhang Ruochen differently.
