In the ninth mansion of Lianzhu Mansion, leaders from numerous great realms of the Western Universe gathered, each a top-tier powerhouse below Great Saint, renowned across the Heavenly Court and Hell Realms.
As part of the Western Universe, the Kunlun Realm drew significant support from its fellow realms, though some from the other three universes, like the Wanxu, Tianlong, and Qianrui Realms, also joined, all being strong realms.
Nearly half the realm leaders had arrived, with others en route.
All eyes were on the events unfolding above the spiritual lake.
“The Kunlun Realm’s people are bold, daring to provoke the Paradise Realm at such a time,” one leader remarked.
“It’s not boldness, it’s folly. Chi Kongle’s walking into a trap. Given the enmity between the Paradise Realm and Zhang Ruochen, Zhou Yu won’t let her off,” another said.
“Chi Kongle killed three Paradise Realm Saint Kings in public, a grave crime. Even Empress Chi Yao can’t shield her,” a third added.
“If she dies by Zhou Yu’s hand, I wonder if Zhang Ruochen will go mad,” another mused.
Several leaders spoke casually, clearly aligned with or sympathetic to the Paradise Realm, indifferent to Kunlun’s plight.
They suspected the Paradise Realm instigated the conflict, but with Kunlun’s weakened position, how could it challenge the Paradise Realm?
Most leaders remained silent, observing quietly, unable to intervene.
Above the lake, the atmosphere was tense. Wang Shiqi, heavy-hearted, believed Chi Kongle, but with no witnesses willing to testify, she was defenseless.
Zhou Yu stood above the water, saying coldly, “Wang Shiqi, hand over Chi Kongle, or I’ll act.”
Wang Shiqi stood protectively before her, mind racing for a solution. He couldn’t surrender Chi Kongle. With Chi Kunlun missing after an incident on the Merit Battlefield, losing Chi Kongle would leave him no face to meet Empress Chi Yao.
Despite Zhou Yu’s overwhelming aura, Chi Kongle showed no fear, gripping her holy sword, its tip at Bolan’s brow.
Even if she couldn’t defeat the Paradise Realm, she wouldn’t yield. If she died, Bolan, the instigator, would die with her.
She felt only disappointment. Dozens of talents from great realms, yet none dared speak the truth. With such timidity, how could they achieve Great Saint status?
“Chi Kongle, still acting defiant? You truly don’t take me seriously,” Zhou Yu growled, locking onto her with a powerful aura, ready to strike at any move.
Bolan’s special status demanded his protection.
Chi Kongle stood tall, meeting Zhou Yu’s gaze fearlessly, “I know you want me dead because you and the Paradise Realm suffered at my father’s hands. But you can’t touch him.”
“Not everyone fears your Paradise Realm. I may not be as strong as my father, but I won’t let you bully me.”
Zhou Yu’s brow twitched, his killing intent intensifying.
His defeat at the Blood God Sect, losing the Truth Mysteries to Zhang Ruochen, was his greatest shame. Chi Kongle’s words, reopening that wound, enraged him despite his composure.
“Zhang Ruochen raised a fine daughter,” Zhou Yu said darkly.
Wang Shiqi’s expression shifted, sensing danger. He unleashed his mental power, summoning righteous qi to shield Chi Kongle.
An ancient brush flew from his brow, grasped in his hand.
The Thousand-Year Holy Brush, steeped in Confucian significance, radiated a vast cultural aura, said to have been used by the Four Confucian Ancestors to write their sacred texts. Over millennia, it bore the essence of Confucian truth through countless poems and writings.
Confucianism’s heritage was profound, its treasures capable of serving as realm-suppressing artifacts for weaker great realms.
*Hmph.*
Zhou Yu snorted, extending a hand, summoning countless light rules.
A radiant orb formed, blazing like a divine sun, rising to dispel all darkness.
Zhou Yu became light incarnate, all the world’s light power converging on him, bringing brightness wherever he went.
True to his style, he aimed to crush Chi Kongle and Wang Shiqi swiftly, saving Bolan.
Wang Shiqi’s eyes grew serious. Without hesitation, he wielded the Thousand-Year Brush, channeling righteous qi to write ancient characters in the air, born at civilization’s dawn, imbued with ancestral wisdom, radiating immortal light to counter Zhou Yu’s holy light technique.
Seeing Zhou Yu act, Chi Kongle unleashed her Five-Element Chaos phenomenon, suppressing Bolan with a chaotic world shadow.
Entering a state of sword-human unity, she summoned nearly ten thousand time rules, capturing temporal marks, and unleashed her time sword technique with full force.
Even facing the Paradise Realm’s leader, she dared to fight, never surrendering.
“Wang Shiqi, the court’s leader and a Confucian giant, will deal a blow to Kunlun if suppressed,” one leader said.
“He’s overreaching. Kunlun’s full of arrogant fools, weak yet reckless, asking for trouble,” another sneered.
“They need a lesson to see reality. This isn’t their glorious era from 100,000 years ago. If they don’t yield, they’ll only fall faster.”
Some leaders gloated, seeing a chance for their realms to gain more benefits by humbling Kunlun.
Others, from weaker realms, felt sympathy, resonating with Kunlun’s plight, fearing their realms might one day share its fate.
But as they moved to act, allies restrained them, “Don’t be rash. We can’t help now and might bring trouble to our realms.”
Reluctantly, they held back, representing entire realms, unable to act impulsively.
“Something’s happening,” a leader exclaimed.
Zhou Yu’s holy light technique was shattered, severed by time’s power.
His expression shifted. A time mark had entered his body, slicing away nearly a century of lifespan, leaving him weakened.
A Fourth-Step Saint King wielding time to break his technique and rob him of years was unthinkable.
“With her cultivation, her time sword technique shouldn’t be this powerful. Could it be… Zhang Ruochen?” Zhou Yu wondered.
He’d found it odd that Hongkun Saint King lost to Chi Kongle. Now, it seemed Zhang Ruochen might be aiding her secretly.
Yet, despite probing, he found no trace of him.
This only heightened his unease. Someone hidden, using Chi Kongle, could break his high-tier technique and cut his lifespan. Could Zhang Ruochen kill him silently?
“Let me offer a fair word,” a clear voice rang out.
As the words fell, the lake’s mist parted, revealing a jade table where a man and woman sat.
All eyes turned to them.
The man, young and clad in a Taoist robe adorned with intricate Bagua patterns, held a whisk, having spoken.
Opposite him was a serene woman in Buddhist robes, holding a jade purification bottle, radiating faint Buddha light, her skin holy, like a bodhisattva walking the earth.
“Zhen Yuan, Cihang,” Zhou Yu’s brow furrowed.
Focused on Chi Kongle, he hadn’t noticed them. Their presence among young talents, rather than with the leaders in the ninth mansion, surprised him.
Zhen Yuan rose, stepping beside Chi Kongle with a smile.
“Greetings, Uncle Zhen Yuan,” Chi Kongle said politely, aware of his close ties with Zhang Ruochen and grateful for his support.
Zhen Yuan nodded, “Zhang’s daughter is truly exceptional.”
“This doesn’t concern you, Zhen Yuan. Stay out of it,” Zhou Yu warned.
Zhen Yuan turned, saying calmly, “I’m not taking sides, just speaking fairly. Bolan is at fault. Here’s the proof.”
He unfurled a scroll, revealing images and sounds of the pavilion’s events.
Hearing his own blasphemous words, Bolan paled. He hadn’t expected evidence, especially from Zhen Yuan, Taoism’s top young talent.
The pavilion’s talents, who’d lied, were stunned, their faces burning with shame, wishing to vanish.
Wang Shiqi sighed in relief. With evidence and the leader of Wuxing Monastery stepping in, Zhou Yu couldn’t act recklessly.
“What say you now, Zhou Yu?” Wang Shiqi challenged.
Zhou Yu’s face darkened. He’d intervened, risking his reputation and losing years, only to face this outcome, as if it were planned.
Yet he couldn’t lash out. Escalating would harm the Paradise Realm.
Calming himself, he said, “Since it’s clear, let’s end this. Chi Kongle, release Bolan. Don’t disrupt the fight against the Hell Realm.”
He had to compromise, or Bolan faced death. With evidence of blasphemy, Chi Kongle could kill him without consequence.
“Bolan blasphemed, a capital crime. And you, Zhou Yu, attacked us unjustly, violating heavenly law. You should be punished,” Chi Kongle said sternly.
Zhou Yu’s face darkened further. He’d conceded, overlooking her killing three Saint Kings, yet she pressed on, pushing too far.
Suppressing his anger, he asked, “What do you want, Chi Kongle?”
“Same as before: Bolan must kneel and apologize,” she replied.
Some matters could be negotiated, but not her parents’ dignity.
She retracted her phenomenon, staring at Bolan.
Bolan collapsed on the lake, the situation circling back despite twists. Born to two gods, he’d never faced such a fall.
Kneeling publicly would ruin him and his parents’ honor. But refusing meant death. Who could face that fearlessly?
“A setback is nothing. As long as you live, you can reclaim what’s lost,” Zhou Yu’s voice reached him.
As one who’d faced defeat, Zhou Yu knew Zhang Ruochen’s current strength might not last. One day, he might ascend to godhood while Zhang Ruochen struggled.
“Let me help,” Zhou Yu said.
Before Bolan could react, two light blades severed his legs.
Without legs, kneeling was unnecessary.
Bolan, understanding, endured the pain and said shakily, “I was foolish, blaspheming Empress Chi Yao. I apologize, hoping for her forgiveness.”
“Satisfied, Chi Kongle?” Zhou Yu asked.
“You—” Chi Kongle began, but Zhen Yuan shook his head.
Forcing a Paradise Realm divine son this far was nearing their limit. Continuing would harm Chi Kongle and Kunlun, given the Paradise Realm’s dominance.
Zhen Yuan waved, sending Bolan and the scroll to Zhou Yu with a burst of holy qi.
Zhou Yu crushed the scroll to ash, preparing to leave with Bolan.
“Cut off an arm,” a voice said in Zhou Yu’s ear, chilling him.
He knew that voice—Zhang Ruochen, his nightmare and greatest foe.
As suspected, Zhang Ruochen was in Lianzhu Mansion, his worst fear realized.
Chi Kongle’s terrifying strength was indeed tied to him.
“You go too far, Zhang Ruochen,” Zhou Yu thought angrily.
But he dared not vent. Zhang Ruochen’s power, defeating even Yan Wushen, was unmatched below Great Saint.
Knowing Zhang Ruochen, defiance would bring worse consequences. Despite his near-top-tier strength, Zhang Ruochen could kill him unnoticed.
As the Paradise Realm’s leader, self-mutilation would ruin his authority.
Torn, Zhou Yu sensed a terrifying aura lock onto him, space compressing, suffocating him.
“Zhang Ruochen… you’re ruthless…” he muttered.
Raising his right hand like a blade, he gritted his teeth, humiliated.
Zhang Ruochen’s voice returned, “Still stalling? Shall I do it myself? I’d love to kill you.”
*Slash.*
Zhou Yu severed his left arm, blood spraying.
Zhang Ruochen’s terror forced his humiliating compromise. Who knew that fiend was already in the Central Imperial City?
“What’s happening? Why did Zhou Yu cut off his arm?”
“First Bolan’s legs, now his own arm? Has he lost his mind?”
“What’s going on?”
Everyone was stunned, unable to comprehend.
Even Chi Kongle looked puzzled, wondering what Zhou Yu was playing at. Did Paradise Realm cultivators turn mad, harming their own?
