The dao intent imprint had fused into Tai Chuan’s dao foundation, a sophisticated technique. However, Guan Chong’s skill fell short. If he were truly masterful, the imprint would have blended seamlessly with Tai Chuan’s dao charm during its circulation in chaos, making it undetectable by the Cosmic Dimensional Model’s structure.
Even knowing the imprint’s presence, removing it wasn’t something just anyone could do. Stripping it would damage Tai Chuan’s dao foundation. As a Chaos Unicorn, a damaged foundation would be nearly impossible to repair, requiring a chaos-level treasure. In chaos, where everything is annihilated, a treasure born alongside chaos and immune to its destruction would be extraordinarily powerful.
Fortunately, Lan Xiaobu was undaunted. Since mastering the Great Severance Technique, he rarely used it against enemies, instead employing it to sever dao threads, dao intents, and various dao pattern restrictions. The technique was simply too effective for such tasks.
Locking onto the imprint with his dao charm, Lan Xiaobu applied the Great Severance Technique, effortlessly cutting it away.
This time, he didn’t store the imprint in his world or the Cosmic Dimensional Model. Instead, he left it in chaos. His strength was still too low to keep a seventh-step Great Path expert’s imprint—who knew what might happen? He could remove it now because Guan Chong hadn’t paid attention to it, perhaps even forgetting it. But if Guan Chong recalled it, he might track Lan Xiaobu down.
Lan Xiaobu memorized the imprint’s signature. If he encountered its caster, he’d recognize it. He wasn’t a match for Guan Chong now, but he’d confront him eventually. As for Guan Yuxue, he could seek her out sooner.
“Master Bu, I feel so light, like I could break through to the Derived Realm Sacred Beast stage!” Tai Chuan exclaimed, overjoyed after the imprint’s removal.
“We’ll talk cultivation later. First, we save Qi Manwei,” Lan Xiaobu said casually.
They hadn’t spent long in chaos, but once inside, direction vanished. Returning the way they came was nearly impossible.
In chaos, nothing existed—neither time, space, nor rules. Though this chaos, influenced by external rules, wasn’t pure, carrying fragmented laws and scattered dao auras, it still wasn’t accessible to just anyone, let alone navigable.
“Master Bu, I can move in chaos. I’ll lead you out,” Tai Chuan offered eagerly.
Lan Xiaobu chuckled, “No need to retrace our steps. Chaos lacks space and time, but this region, tainted by broken dao rules, has traces to follow. We’ll go deeper. If we can enter the Holy Sword Palace from behind, even better. If we can’t exit this chaos, we’ll find another way.”
In the vast cosmic chaos, Lan Xiaobu wouldn’t dare try this. Even with Tai Chuan’s Chaos Unicorn nature, they might never escape. But this was a small, contained chaotic region controlled by the Holy Sword Palace, like the compact chaos at the Tai Xu Tomb’s core.
With the imprint gone, Tai Chuan’s mind sharpened. It navigated with uncanny precision, guiding Lan Xiaobu out of chaos in just half a month. They faced an array of formation patterns and restrictions, underpinned by top-tier treasures as array bases.
“Master Bu, this must be the edge of the Holy Sword Palace’s protective array,” Tai Chuan said boldly, recognizing the setup.
Lan Xiaobu marveled, “The Holy Sword Palace is filthy rich, using so many innate treasures as array bases and chaos materials for patterns…”
Though chaos materials were necessary to prevent annihilation, the exclusive use of them showcased the palace’s wealth.
“Let’s slip through carefully. Entering from here, no one will notice,” Tai Chuan said excitedly.
Lan Xiaobu shook his head, “We can’t. That’s a sure way to get caught. You enter the Longevity Realm. You’ve helped enough with the rescue—leave the rest to me.”
“Master Bu, I can still—”
Tai Chuan’s protest was cut off. “With your strength, what can you do? If you want to help, focus on cultivating and boosting your power after this.”
Tai Chuan drooped but complied, “Then be careful, Master Bu. Don’t alert the palace. When we leave, we’ll use the chaos region again—silent as ghosts.”
Lan Xiaobu sneered, “Silent? The Holy Sword Palace can dream on.”
He’d been discreet at the Great Ice Pan Palace, avoiding even letting Chang Yuan reveal he’d saved Tai Chuan, to protect his mission to rescue Qi Manwei. But after saving her, why stay low-key?
The cosmos was vast, and he, a fourth-step Great Path cultivator, was a force to be reckoned with. Let them try to hunt him. Back in the Eternal Life Lands, he’d faced pursuit fearlessly—how much less in the boundless cosmos?
Lan Xiaobu had decided: after saving Qi Manwei, he’d destroy the Holy Sword Palace. Not just because he was fourth-step, but because he could set up boundaries, embedding countless divine path rules within them.
He had plenty of destructive divine path techniques—Great Destruction, rarely used due to its devastating, heaven-defying power. But here, he’d hold nothing back. Great Destruction, Great Demise, Great Severance—all would be woven into boundaries across the palace.
The Holy Sword Palace courted death by building on chaos’s edge. When his Great Destruction self-detonated, he’d drag in chaotic qi. If he didn’t, he’d consider it a loss.
Chaos didn’t just annihilate—it could amplify his boundary explosions. Even tainted chaotic qi was still chaotic qi. The palace enjoyed its benefits; now it’d face the consequences.
Lan Xiaobu’s first step was a shielding array to block the palace’s surveillance. Then he set up destructive boundaries—Great Destruction, Great Severance, Great Demise, even curse technique boundaries.
Every divine path technique he’d previously avoided was embedded in these boundaries, primed for him to trigger with chaotic qi, engulfing the entire palace.
Some innocents might die, but Lan Xiaobu was no longer the naive youth from Earth, obsessed with clear rights and wrongs. He knew that in this realm, hesitation before reaching sufficient strength was like tying a noose around his neck, inviting death. Once he decided to act, he’d be ruthless.
He doubted many in the Holy Sword Palace were truly innocent.
If there were, they were just unlucky.
He wanted everyone to know: slaughter the innocent, and you’d be slaughtered in turn. This was a warning to Guan Chong—after the Holy Sword Palace, the True Yan Holy Path was next.
Entering the palace took less than a month, but setting up divine path boundaries, chaotic qi triggers, binding arrays, and killing arrays around and within it took nearly three months.
Lan Xiaobu spared no top-tier materials or treasures, even marking the palace’s chaos-edge treasures with his own imprints.
Fortunately, being at chaos’s edge, the palace didn’t constantly monitor the area.
Three months later, Lan Xiaobu slipped into the Holy Sword Palace effortlessly.
He wasn’t worried about finding Qi Manwei. As long as she was alive, he’d locate her. Much of her path, especially spatial rules, came from him, infused with a trace of Longevity Space’s aura.
To Lan Xiaobu, the palace was like his backyard, traversable at will.
Perhaps because the Eternal Life Conference was nearing, the palace was sparsely populated. Lan Xiaobu transformed into a common spatial rule, searching freely. Though he hadn’t found Qi Manwei’s aura, he wasn’t rushed.
If Qi Manwei was in the palace, she’d be locked behind layers of restrictions. Getting close enough would reveal her eventually.
