Zhang Ruochen had no desire to continue the fight. Yan Huangtu was too resilient, enduring multiple strikes from the purple-gold gourd without suffering critical damage.
Only by using the power of time to erode his lifespan or slowly refining him with Purifying Divine Fire could Zhang Ruochen hope to kill him.
However, the Nine Dragon Divine Patterns on Yan Huangtu’s divine bones could resist the erosion of time. Even if he stood still, killing him with time’s power would demand immense effort and time, far from easy.
Using Purifying Divine Fire to refine him would take even longer.
In other words, with his current cultivation, Zhang Ruochen lacked the ability to kill Yan Huangtu.
Moreover, Zhang Ruochen’s purpose in coming to the Yan Clan’s home star was to seize the Emperor-Grade Saint Intent Pill. Continuing to fight Yan Huangtu would only harm him, with no benefit.
“Rustle!”
The scent of flowers wafted into the bronze temple.
At the temple gate, beneath Yan Zhexian’s feet, vibrant spiritual flowers spread, soon covering the temple.
Not only were the flowers talisman patterns, but even the strands of their fragrance were talismans.
“I can’t stay here. With dozens of Great Saint Talisman Masters aiding Yan Huangtu, he’s like a tiger with wings,” Zhang Ruochen thought, his gaze turning to the Dragon Lord statue at the temple’s centre.
The Buddhist light in the temple emanated from a palm-sized, circular ancient mirror at the Dragon Lord’s chest, its surface shimmering with flowing light.
As a master of space, Zhang Ruochen had sensed an odd spatial energy fluctuation from the mirror upon entering the temple. The spatial rules around it were distorted.
“Time to leave. We’ll fight another day.”
Zhang Ruochen’s form flickered, rushing toward the Buddhist light mirror, his body rapidly shrinking.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Yan Huangtu shot forward, chasing him, raising his arm. The Heavenly Wish in his hand partially activated its supreme inscriptions, emitting blinding sacred light.
This strike aimed to intercept Zhang Ruochen.
If Zhang Ruochen persisted in rushing toward the mirror, the Heavenly Wish’s shadow would surely strike him. Hit by a supreme Saint Weapon, even if he survived, he’d be gravely injured.
Once forced back into the sea of floral talismans, Yan Huangtu would have countless ways to deal with him.
This strike, with its angle and speed, embodied Yan Huangtu’s lifelong mastery, not a Saint Technique, yet more terrifying than one.
“You can’t stop me.”
With a swoosh, a black light shot from Zhang Ruochen’s hand toward Yan Huangtu’s chest.
It was the dual-element king-grade sacred black umbrella, hidden in his sleeve. Unleashed now, it struck like a hidden sword, catching him off guard.
Yan Huangtu’s thick brows furrowed, redirecting his attack. The Heavenly Wish struck the black umbrella with precision.
The umbrella shattered into scraps of iron cloth and metal fragments.
A dual-element king-grade sacred weapon was like tofu before a supreme Saint Weapon, utterly fragile.
When Yan Huangtu looked up again, Zhang Ruochen had already plunged into the Buddhist light mirror.
He entered the mirror’s surface as if diving into water.
Yan Zhexian stared at the statue, worried, saying, “After Que and Lan Ying, Zhang Ruochen has entered too. Yan Wushen alone might not handle them. We…”
Yan Huangtu cut her off, saying, “Zhang Ruochen and Lan Ying’s main goal is the Emperor-Grade Saint Intent Pill. Under normal circumstances, they won’t attack Yan Wushen.”
“With Yan Wushen’s intellect and strength, he’ll have a plan. We don’t need to worry.”
“On the contrary, if we send a large force in, Zhang Ruochen, Lan Ying, and Que, sensing danger, will turn their spears on the Yan Clan first. That would be worse.”
Yan Zhexian found his analysis sound and nodded slightly, saying, “In that case, we’ll set up stronger talismans and arrays in the temple. Ideally, we’ll seal all three inside until the Huntian Feast ends.”
Sixty-two Great Saint Talisman Masters, including Yan Zhexian, and a host of Yan Clan array masters gathered outside the temple, diligently inscribing patterns.
…
Zhang Ruochen struck the mirror’s surface, causing spatial ripples. His vision darkened, and his body was uncontrollably pulled into another space.
“Whoosh!”
Regaining his sight, Zhang Ruochen found himself in a cyan world.
Around him, auspicious light glowed, with ancient golden trees, as if forged from pure gold, dazzlingly bright.
There were lakes too.
Their waters were a deep cyan.
“No, what’s that?”
Zhang Ruochen’s expression hardened. In the eastern sky, a colossal cyan mountain range loomed. Even from a thousand li away, its towering majesty was palpable.
The range’s average height likely exceeded a hundred thousand metres, its ends out of sight.
“Huff!”
A deep, resonant breath echoed through the heavens and earth.
“Rustle.”
The golden trees swayed violently in the wind, shedding countless golden leaves.
In that moment, the cyan mountain range seemed to rise and fall, trembling slightly.
As the wind cleared the clouds, Zhang Ruochen saw details of the range, revealing massive scales covering its surface.
It wasn’t a mountain range—it was a colossal cyan beast.
Its body was so vast that he couldn’t immediately identify what it was.
The three Thousand Questions Realm dragon souls in Zhang Ruochen’s left arm let out anxious growls, filled with unease.
“What does the Destiny Temple keep within the ten clan stars? Why do such terrifying creatures keep appearing?” Zhang Ruochen wondered.
He wasn’t one to be blinded by opportunities or treasures. Seeing the “mountain range” coiled here, he grew certain there was no Mirror Platform or Buddha Relic, and retreat took hold.
Then…
“Boom!”
A massive roar came from hundreds of li away.
A surge of nine-coloured chaotic light erupted from the sound’s source, its force sweeping away all the leaves from the golden trees near Zhang Ruochen.
The trees were left bare.
“It’s Lan Ying’s aura.”
Restricted by the chains of the Dao, Zhang Ruochen’s mental power couldn’t probe hundreds of li away. He soared into the air, hovering near the clouds.
About five hundred li away, Lan Ying, Hong Futu, Que, and Yan Wushen were locked in chaotic battle.
More precisely, Lan Ying, Hong Futu, and Yan Wushen were jointly attacking Que.
“Leave the Emperor-Grade Saint Intent Pill, and I’ll let you leave,” Yan Wushen said, his nine-zhang-six golden body fierce and valiant, surrounded by eighty-one Buddhist light divine rings, striking palm after palm.
“You think you can take the Emperor-Grade Saint Intent Pill?”
Despite the Dao’s suppression, Que’s movements were fluid, his form flickering in and out.
“Whoosh!”
Suddenly, Que appeared before Hong Futu, unleashing an invisible, intangible force.
Hong Futu’s face changed, retreating swiftly while summoning lightning power at his fastest speed, crossing his arms to block.
“Crack!”
Hong Futu’s arms snapped, his body hurled hundreds of metres, carving a long trench in the ground.
Wracked with pain, besides his severed arms, a metre-long gash appeared on his four-metre-tall chest, Saint Blood gushing like a fountain.
Worse, a void force invaded the wound.
Centred on the gash, his body began to fade, turning to nothingness.
Hong Futu, a pureblood divine beast “Zheng,” was destined to become at least a pseudo-god.
As a young divine beast, he had always dominated his peers, even defeating Heavenly Court cultivators across multiple realms.
His prowess, if not peerless, was top-tier.
Yet, under siege, Que had crippled him with one move, a devastating blow to his pride.
“Roar!”
Hong Futu gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing with ferocity.
Activating his ancestral divine power, he countered the void force, slowly refining it, and regrew his severed arms.
As he stood to fight again, a cold hand silently gripped his neck from behind.
“Whoosh!”
A spatial sword severed his head.
Hong Futu’s vitality was immense; even decapitated, he roared, “Who? Who are you?”
Divine power and lightning surged from his scalp.
“Shh, keep it down.”
Holding the tower-shaped horn on Hong Futu’s head, Zhang Ruochen summoned Purifying Divine Fire, forming a fiery divine flower that enveloped the head, divine power, and lightning.
Curses and screams echoed from the fiery flower.
Moments later, Hong Futu’s head was reduced to ash, scattering on the ground.
Only a fist-sized Saint Source remained in Zhang Ruochen’s palm.
The Saint Source was extraordinary, brimming with divine matter and patterns, sparkling brilliantly.
Within it, a soul shadow of a Zheng divine beast lingered.
“A pureblood divine beast’s Saint Source is remarkable, nearly a divine source. This is a treasure. If a Great Saint refines it, they might achieve pseudo-god status, or at least demi-god,” Zhang Ruochen nodded, satisfied, storing the Saint Source.
Hong Futu’s headless body retained strong mental will, swinging a fist at Zhang Ruochen, radiating divine light.
Even at full strength, Zhang Ruochen didn’t fear him, let alone now.
With a wave, Hong Futu’s body was flung away like a strawman.
“Swish, swish.”
Spatial rifts sliced his body into seven pieces.
Hong Futu was dead. As his body began reverting to its divine beast form, Zhang Ruochen quickly stored it in the purple-gold gourd.
He had killed Hong Futu within his True Domain of Space, invisible and silent to the outside world.
But Hong Futu’s true form was hundreds of li long, a colossal entity.
Zhang Ruochen acted swiftly to store it before it fully transformed, hiding his presence from Que, Lan Ying, and Yan Wushen.
This time, he planned to watch the tigers fight from the sidelines, striking as the oriole behind.
Due to his ties with Goddess Xiuchen, Hong Futu, Lan Ying, and the Qinglu Divine Palace were his enemies. Though he had outwardly allied with Lan Ying, both harboured ulterior motives. Given the chance to kill, he wouldn’t hesitate.
Against threats to his life, Zhang Ruochen was decisive.
He spared Yan Zhexian earlier because he already had enough enemies in the Hell Realm and didn’t wish to forge an irreconcilable feud with the Yan Clan.
Killing Yan Clan members on their home star in the Huntian Battlefield wouldn’t create deep enmity.
After all, among a billion or billions of Yan Clan members, producing an ordinary Great Saint was unlikely, their value limited.
But Yan Zhexian was different—a direct descendant with immense potential.
Killing her would enrage the Yan Clan’s gods, bringing Zhang Ruochen more harm than good.
At some point, Zhang Ruochen had learned to weigh actions by profit, not right or wrong, good or evil.
Perhaps this was the cost of growth, a necessary compromise to survive in a harsh world.
Yet, it meant losing part of his original heart.
Demons of the heart don’t arise without cause.
After erasing all traces, Zhang Ruochen observed the nearby battle.
Normally, even hidden in his True Domain of Space, he couldn’t evade the senses of Que, Lan Ying, or Yan Wushen. But in their intense battle, their focus was absolute, leaving no room to notice him.
“Yan Wushen’s cultivation has advanced so much, breaking at least twenty shackles. How did he do it?” Zhang Ruochen was astonished.
He had broken thirty shackles by consuming nine Yandao Saint Fruits, numerous Divine Roaming Pills, and training for a decade inside the Dark Star.
For Yan Wushen to break so many, he must have seized a monumental opportunity.
Glancing at the cyan “mountain range,” Zhang Ruochen muttered, “Could it be related to that creature?”
To become a cosmic genius required not just talent and effort but great heritage and fortune, all at their peak.
Clearly, Yan Wushen’s fortune was nearly as great as Zhang Ruochen’s.
Que’s Void Path was indeed unpredictable, ever-changing. But Lan Ying and Yan Wushen were no pushovers.
Lan Ying unleashed over thirteen billion Saint Path rules, forming a nine-coloured proto-universe and a Shura world of killing intent, suppressing Que’s void power.
Yan Wushen activated “Origin Light” and “True Domain of Space,” forcing Que to reveal his true form, unable to vanish into nothingness.
“Lan Ying’s Saint Path rules reach thirteen billion seven hundred million. Wujiang has only nine billion seven hundred million, and Yan Huangtu just broke ten billion. Truly a cosmic divine embryo nurtured by divine and killing energies for three cosmic cycles,” Zhang Ruochen noted.
“In past Huntian Battles, a Hundred Shackles Realm peak Great Saint with over eight billion Saint Path rules was rare, sometimes not appearing for millennia.”
Zhang Ruochen was certain killing Hong Futu was the right move, cutting off Lan Ying’s arm.
