Zhong Wuchi grinned at Lan Xiaobu, “If I’m not mistaken, you’re still hiding your strength. You’re probably no weaker than Guang Ping, huh? So young, yet so cunning, even setting up a void teleport array outside. Planning to slip out anytime, right? Shame, you won’t pull it off now.”
His words stirred unease among the crowd. One moment Zhong Wuchi was fuming about others eyeing his Breath Soil, the next he’s smirking like this?
Lan Xiaobu saw it clear, in that brief window, the bamboo grove’s rules had fused with Zhong Wuchi’s world.
A few sharp Ninth Turn Saints tried to bolt, Breath Soil be damned. But a few steps out, they stumbled back.
The surrounding space rules were beyond their grasp, step too far, and a suffocating death aura pressed in.
“You control this space?” a woman gaped at Zhong Wuchi, fear in her eyes.
Zhong Wuchi scanned the crowd, “Sixty-six people, that’ll do.”
“Who are you?” Guang Ping stepped up, his focus shifting from Lan Xiaobu, sensing something off.
“I’m Zhong Wuchi,” Zhong Wuchi said with a faint smile, calm as ever.
“Nether Saint?” Several monks gasped in unison.
The Nether Lord was the Nether Saint, Zhong Wuchi.
Realizing this, silence fell, everyone instinctively summoning treasures, stretching domains to their limits.
No one attacked. If this was truly the Nether Lord, they were in his world. No matter how strong, even ten times stronger than him, what could they do? He controlled the rules here, a thought could snuff their life force, crush them. Resistance? Pointless.
Domains were just self-soothing, his rules could shatter them in a blink.
Zhong Wuchi gazed skyward, sighing after a long pause, “Ages ago, I ruled the Nether. Time’s a river, billions of years gone.”
Lan Xiaobu sneered inwardly, what a poser. This was a reborn Nether Lord, sure, but not the main soul. If the main soul couldn’t revive or was weak, this guy might even overtake it.
If the main soul came back strong, this clone would’ve grabbed the world and run, no way he’d wait to be absorbed.
A world with Breath Soil wouldn’t still be here for a clone’s reborn body to claim if the main soul was active or strong.
Others caught on too. The Nether Lord lured them to break the array. If this was his main soul reborn, would he need help cracking his own world?
Zhong Wuchi’s eyes landed on Lan Xiaobu, “Back in the Abandoned God Abyss, I left a pile of chaos divine essence pills and 108 chaos divine spirit veins. You took them, didn’t you? You’ve grown fast, Eighth Turn, maybe Ninth Turn Saint in no time.”
He couldn’t quite pin Lan Xiaobu’s level, but figured at least Eighth Turn, bold enough to mouth off to Guang Ping.
“Thanks for the praise, I think I’m doing alright,” Lan Xiaobu said coolly, leaving out that Zhong Wuchi was overrating him.
By now, he was sure Zhong Wuchi didn’t control the whole world, just this bamboo grove, which is why he herded everyone here, his turf.
“Hand over your stuff, and I’ll let you leave,” Zhong Wuchi said, eyeing Lan Xiaobu.
Then, feeling it lacked bite, he added, “You know I can crack your world open.”
He’d kept Lan Xiaobu alive for one thing, the space array disc. Lan Xiaobu had shown it for one reason, to see the Breath Soil.
Lan Xiaobu scoffed, “I bet you can’t open my world, wanna try?”
Right then, a Seventh Turn Saint triggered a realm-breaking talisman, white light whisking him up, only to burst into blood mist ten zhang out.
Zhong Wuchi glanced over, sneering, “Told you, my world, and you still try to run, heh.”
“I came for Breath Soil, so I’m grabbing it now. You want my stuff? Wait till I’ve got it,” Lan Xiaobu said, strolling toward the bamboo platform, as if he hadn’t heard Zhong Wuchi claim the world.
Zhong Wuchi stared, dumbfounded. Was there such a person? He’d thought Lan Xiaobu was faking his brashness, now he wondered if it was real. Going for Breath Soil in his world, wasn’t that suicide?
Even if Lan Xiaobu missed the memo, a Seventh Turn just showed what happens, and he still charged in?
Yet Lan Xiaobu stepped forward, leaping onto the platform.
Not just Zhong Wuchi, everyone gawked. If Breath Soil was that easy to grab in Zhong Wuchi’s world, that’d be the real shock.
Zhong Wuchi sneered inside, he’d been puzzling how to crack Lan Xiaobu’s world, now Lan Xiaobu was handing him the chance. He’d use the Nether Soul-Breaking Bridge to rip it open the moment the rules tore Lan Xiaobu apart.
But then Zhong Wuchi froze, Lan Xiaobu landed on the platform with ease, reaching for the Breath Soil, his space rules somehow ignoring him.
“Courting death!” Zhong Wuchi roared, his divine sense surging, endless killing aura flooding toward Lan Xiaobu. He locked the world’s rules, no way he’d let Lan Xiaobu take the Breath Soil.
Even if he could crack Lan Xiaobu’s world, he wouldn’t risk it, what if he failed?
To his shock, his attack vanished like it wasn’t even in this void. He’d locked the space, controlled the rules, yet Lan Xiaobu was untouched, his hand closing on the Breath Soil.
Seeing Lan Xiaobu move freely, others triggered escape talismans or threw up defensive treasures, rushing out.
Blood sprayed, Guang Ping lost a leg, collapsing back to the ground.
In moments, sixteen were slaughtered. The rest stopped, realizing they’d misjudged, this was still Zhong Wuchi’s world. Lan Xiaobu’s freedom? He had tricks.
Zhong Wuchi ignored the carnage, staring at Lan Xiaobu. How? This was his space, he owned the rules, what was up with Lan Xiaobu?
Grabbing the Breath Soil, Lan Xiaobu felt its cosmic, life-giving aura, certain it’d save his Dark Wood fragment, and he wouldn’t need it all.
Tucking it into his world, he wove space laws, yanking chaos divine spirit veins from the void, funneling them into his Longevity Realm.
In a blink, over two hundred veins were his, like Zhong Wuchi’s rules didn’t exist.
Zhong Wuchi, about to charge, calmed instead. Attacking now was pointless, Lan Xiaobu was untouchable in his rules, even snagging veins effortlessly. Killing him wouldn’t be easy, better to refine the world fully first.
Terrifying rule-based killing aura crushed down, shredding monks left and right. Guang Ping threw up a treasure to block it, but in another’s domain, his strength was a fraction of itself.
Like a shark tossed into a forest, rootless.
Another burst of blood, Guang Ping’s other leg sliced off by space. He shrieked at Lan Xiaobu, “Friend, please, lend a hand, I’ll repay you!”
Lan Xiaobu smirked inside, ignoring him. Not robbing Guang Ping’s world was already generous, and he wanted rescue? Dream on.
“Friend Lan, for guiding you here, please help!” Ni Jiansheng, battered and bleeding, begged.
Even without his plea, Lan Xiaobu planned to step in. His seventy-two ruleless array flags unfurled, Longevity Space expanding.
Zhong Wuchi, fixated on Lan Xiaobu, snapped awake, “You built your own rule space with ruleless array flags…”
