“Daoist, hurry and leave the Chaos River with your friends. Fighting on the Chaos River’s void platform carries the death penalty,” a sudden transmission landed in Lan Xiaobu’s ear.
Despite the onlookers’ indifference, Lan Xiaobu sensed the sender—a white-haired man in a corner, looking somewhat downcast, likely at Realm-Deriving level.
“Wuji, we might face the so-called managers’ wrath right after arriving,” Lan Xiaobu transmitted to Mo Wuji helplessly.
Mo Wuji grinned carefree, “Let them come.”
Back when he’d just entered Sage level, he was besieged by veteran sages. In the Land of Eternity, he was chased by numerous Creation and Realm-Deriving Sages. Yet here he was, thriving. Where were those pursuers now?
Mo Wuji glanced subconsciously at Thunder Sage. Of those who chased him in the Land of Eternity, perhaps only Thunder Sage remained.
Thunder Sage, catching Mo Wuji’s gaze, lowered his head instinctively. He recalled chasing Mo Wuji, only to now rely on him and Lan Xiaobu for survival. Life’s twists were truly unpredictable.
At that moment, two figures darted out, clashing above the surging Chaos River. Several more followed, joining the fray.
Suddenly, the void platform held only Lan Xiaobu’s group and the white-haired man.
“Xiaobu, what are they doing?” Qi Manwei asked, stunned by the cultivators’ frenzied combat, unable to fathom why they’d gone from calm to life-or-death struggle.
“They’re fighting over a Chaos Stone. You should leave quickly. Once the Chaos River’s enforcer arrives, escaping will be tough. Along the riverbanks, there are many low-tier universes,” the white-haired man said calmly.
As Lan Xiaobu was about to respond, Du Bu sighed, “I know what they’re after… it’s indeed a Chaos Stone.”
A fist-sized, pale green stone shot into the air, and everyone lunged for it.
The white-haired man said in surprise, “A green Chaos Stone…”
“I think it’s a Qintian Stone,” Mo Wuji transmitted to Lan Xiaobu.
Lan Xiaobu nodded, agreeing it was a Qintian Stone. Du Bu, experienced, had started to say so but stopped, knowing not to reveal it.
Qintian Stones being Chaos Stones was intriguing. Theirs were orange, but this one was green.
As the crowd vied for the green Qintian Stone, a gaunt man, stronger than most, neared it first. Lan Xiaobu recognized him as the one who’d accused them of breaking the Chaos River’s rules.
But as he approached, several divine dao techniques struck him, blasting him into the Chaos River. He didn’t resurface. The green Chaos Stone was seized by a red-haired woman.
She rushed back to the void platform, followed by the others, who ceased fighting upon landing, acting as if they’d never clashed.
Lan Xiaobu and his group marveled silently. They’d just seen someone killed—the gaunt man, blasted into the river, likely dead.
At that moment, faint lights flickered at a corner of the platform. The cultivators instinctively stepped back. From the lights, a yellow-robed man appeared.
With a sage crown, a God-Beating Whip on his back, and an aura of authority, Lan Xiaobu’s group knew instantly—he was the Chaos River enforcer the white-haired man mentioned.
Seeing the yellow-robed man, everyone on the platform bowed slightly and stood aside silently.
Stepping onto the platform, he didn’t immediately address Lan Xiaobu’s group but glanced at the white-haired man, a cold smile curling his lips.
The white-haired man shivered, his heart sinking. His transmission had been detected—his carelessness had doomed him.
Ignoring the white-haired man, the yellow-robed man approached Lan Xiaobu’s group, saying, “Two questions. First, did you kill someone here?”
Lan Xiaobu replied lazily, “Whether your Grandpa Bu killed someone is none of your business. Get lost, don’t taint my sight.”
Unfazed, the yellow-robed man continued flatly, “Second, will you surrender, or shall I make you?”
“Lord Enforcer, they killed Yi Tingdao…” someone in the crowd interjected.
“What? You killed a Qin family member?” The yellow-robed man’s expression shifted, his dao rhythm surging violently.
He’d called Yi Tingdao a Qin family member.
Before he could act, Mo Wuji unleashed three divine sense arrows and stepped forward, pointing a finger—Mortal World.
The void platform above the Chaos River wasn’t a mortal world. But Mo Wuji’s finger created one. With a mortal world came birth, aging, sickness, and death. With death, everything had flaws.
“You dare…” The yellow-robed man’s face changed. As a Chaos River yellow-robed enforcer, he’d never seen anyone dare attack him first. This defied his understanding, especially from a Creation Dao realm ant.
Ignorance breeds fearlessness, he thought, eyeing the young man attacking him.
As his killing aura surged and he reached for his God-Beating Whip, a pang struck his sea of consciousness, halting his momentum.
Ambushed by a divine sense attack, he realized too late. Lan Xiaobu, without hesitation, unleashed a Rift Rule Wheel Pattern at him.
Having coordinated with Mo Wuji before, Lan Xiaobu knew his role.
The wheel pattern struck the yellow-robed man’s domain, eliciting cracking sounds as his sage domain’s dao rhythm rules became glaringly clear, even to a newly minted sage.
“Impressive technique,” Mo Wuji laughed, amplifying Mortal World’s dao rhythm exponentially.
Mo Wuji was certain the yellow-robed man was a Creation Sage and had pegged him and Lan Xiaobu as mere Creation Dao realm. The best chance to kill him was at the start, when he underestimated them, focusing instead on Qi Manwei and Thunder Sage.
The yellow-robed man, knowing their side had two Creation Sages, still dared act, suggesting the platform might hide a top-tier trapping-killing array. Mo Wuji wouldn’t risk it, striking first while the man was off-guard. Lan Xiaobu’s technique perfectly complemented Mortal World, exposing the man’s dao principles and domain.
Even a strong foe, caught in the abruptly intensified Mortal World, was drawn into its intent. He cultivated for eternity, yet now faced mortality’s cycle—birth, aging, sickness, death. How could he not be affected?
Lan Xiaobu wouldn’t miss this chance. Just before the yellow-robed man snapped out, he struck with a fist—Feather Tone Kill of the Seven Tones.
Lan Xiaobu had stronger techniques, but he deemed Feather Tone Kill ideal for this moment.
Trapped in Mortal World’s intent for even half a breath, it was enough for Lan Xiaobu.
The punch brought autumn’s sorrow to the mortal world. The yellow-robed man felt a slight chill, instinctively looking up, a desolate feeling rising within. What a cool autumn.
No—realizing it was an intent technique, a perfect blend of two ants’ intents—one crafting a mortal world, the other a deep autumn, trapping him for a killing strike.
Though he awoke in less than a breath, it was too late. Lan Xiaobu’s Feather Tone Kill struck his head unimpeded.
Splatter! Blood mist erupted, blooming into a tragic red flower.
