Lan Xiaobu had no intention of leaving—he knew he couldn’t. Despite no one confronting him now, the moment he tried to walk away, a crowd would block his path.
With a few steps through the void, he arrived at the center of the fray.
Mad Saint hardly lived up to his name anymore. In mere moments, his wild hair had been blasted to ash. Blood and foam covered his body, his chest’s broken bones starkly visible. Tree Saint was no longer the calm figure from before either—his weathered skin bore countless wounds, green blood staining him. One arm hung weakly, likely severed and hastily reattached.
Both their auras were feeble, yet Lan Xiaobu could still sense the Cosmic Heart’s presence. Clearly, their grand scheme hadn’t even grazed its edges.
These two were something else—luring Saints to the island, gathering their Dao charm to strip the Cosmic Heart. They’d drawn plenty of Saints, alright, but ones who could easily crush them. Anyone with a shred of sense wouldn’t have tried this. Maybe they thought their strength gave them the edge, but that confidence crumbled in less than half an incense stick’s time.
“Fellow Daoists, my brother went too far this time. We’re willing to relinquish Saint Island. For the sake of our years of service, please stop,” Tree Saint said, clasping his hands. As he spoke, he subtly activated an array disk—another Saintly Dao array disk, this one defensive, likely to guard against sudden attacks.
Lan Xiaobu glanced around. The attackers were likely Ku Cai, the monk, the Reincarnation Saint, and two Third-Turn Saints. Mad Saint, a Fourth-Turn, and Tree Saint, a Fifth-Turn, were renowned, but against this group, they were outmatched. Holding out for less than half an incense stick was understandable. That they hadn’t been killed yet was sheer luck.
As for the others, Lan Xiaobu guessed they’d joined in, though most probably just tossed out a few treasures or techniques casually.
Mad Saint and Tree Saint might struggle against Ku Cai alone. With so many piling on—even with half-hearted strikes—these island lords couldn’t withstand it.
“Open your worlds, let us take some items, and we’ll let you leave Saint Island,” the monk said coolly.
Then, addressing the onlookers, “First-Turn Saints and above stay. Everyone else, leave now.”
Though the crowd was large, most were Quasi-Saints or Pseudo-Saints. First-Turn Saints and higher were fewer, but Lan Xiaobu still counted over fifty who stayed.
Some First- and Second-Turn Saints didn’t linger either, departing with the Quasi- and Pseudo-Saints after the monk’s order.
“Everyone, we didn’t care when these two declared themselves lords of Saint Island—let them be. But today, they crossed a line, trying to strip the Cosmic Heart. We can’t let that slide. Though we’ve subdued them, their worlds remain sealed. Those willing to join me in forcing them open, step up and help lock down this space. If not, leave,” the monk said calmly, his voice laced with cold killing intent that filled the area.
Lan Xiaobu realized the monk wasn’t confident he could breach the island lords’ worlds alone. He wanted numbers—multiple Saints sealing the space would leave the two no chance to resist.
Before anyone could respond, Lan Xiaobu chuckled. “Sure, Mad Saint and Tree Saint wanted the Cosmic Heart, but who doesn’t? They just acted on it. Rumor has it they discovered Saint Island first—it’s natural they’d have such thoughts. Since the Cosmic Heart’s untouched, kicking them out should suffice. They’ve contributed to the island over the years. Forcing their worlds open? That’s too much. People should consider cause and effect, morality—not just do whatever strength allows.”
Truth be told, Lan Xiaobu didn’t care if Mad Saint and Tree Saint died. They weren’t saints themselves—whether they lived or not meant nothing to him.
But he knew they could be allies. The monk and Reincarnation Saint would surely come for him soon, so he’d secure some support first.
“You think proving yourself a First-Turn Saint makes you special?” the monk stared at him coldly. He intended to deal with Lan Xiaobu, but not yet—first, these island lords.
Lan Xiaobu ignored him, addressing the crowd. “You heard me. Put it this way: even if these lords have treasures, they won’t go to you. If it’s just scraps, why bother with the karmic stain?”
Even without his words, over half the remaining Saints were already planning to leave. No fools here—not like these dim-witted island lords.
The monk was likely beyond Fifth-Turn, possibly Seventh. The Reincarnation Saint matched Tree Saint’s level at least. Add Ku Cai and two Third-Turn Saints. What could the rest gain by staying? As Lan Xiaobu said, no good loot, just karma.
Nearly thirty First- and Second-Turn Saints clasped their fists and sped off.
Seeing most leave, the remaining twenty-odd followed suit. In a dozen breaths, only two Second-Turn Saints, one Third-Turn Saint, the Reincarnation Saint, the monk, Ku Cai, Lan Xiaobu, and the two island lords remained.
Mad Saint looked at Lan Xiaobu with delight, clasping his fists. “Fellow Daoist, I didn’t expect such loyalty. I was wrong before—I even wanted to kill you. I, Fei Lian, apologize. You’re our only friend here.”
His mind was simple, unaware of Lan Xiaobu’s motives. With so many against them, only Lan Xiaobu helped—he saw him as a true ally.
Lan Xiaobu was puzzled why the monk hadn’t acted against him.
Then it clicked: he had something the monk wanted. The monk wouldn’t strike here—he’d target Lan Xiaobu’s cave, quietly cracking his Longevity Realm.
Understanding this, Lan Xiaobu ignored the monk, clasping his fists to the island lords. “I’ve always admired you both. You’ve worked hard for Saint Island, even if without great merit. How can you be punished so easily? A small mistake—everyone makes them. It’s no big deal. Repent, and all’s well.”
“Great! You’re truly my confidant, Daoist!” Mad Saint clapped, heedless of his wounds.
Tree Saint clasped his fists politely. “Thank you, Daoist. We plan to leave Saint Island. We’ll remember your kindness. May I have your name?”
Lan Xiaobu laughed. “You’re too kind. I’m Lan Xiaobu. But I suggest you don’t leave now. Some are watching. Departing gives them an excuse and opportunity. Stay and cultivate here—near the Cosmic Heart, isn’t that better?”
He meant the monk, but he knew if the lords fled, the monk wouldn’t pursue—not with Lan Xiaobu still here, a target he couldn’t let slip.
“Thanks, Daoist Lan. Before, too many Saints locked the space—we couldn’t escape. Now, this bald guy can’t stop us. We’ll repay your kindness,” Tree Saint said, activating another array disk.
A burst of light erupted, tearing a void rift. The next moment, Mad Saint and Tree Saint vanished into it.
Perhaps knowing he couldn’t stop them, the monk didn’t try.
Lan Xiaobu felt a pang of regret. He’d kept them here for backup, not expecting them to bolt. He wasn’t afraid of the monk alone, but the Reincarnation Saint siding with him was a concern. The monk was cunning too—if he’d tried to block the lords, Lan Xiaobu would’ve jumped in, making it three against one. Too bad the monk didn’t bite.
No time to dwell. As the lords fled through the rift, Lan Xiaobu lunged, snatching their dropped defensive array disk.
“Daoist Lan, quite the move, heh,” the Third-Turn Saint sneered, seeing him grab it.
Too many were around for them to stoop to scavenging the lords’ gear.
But Lan Xiaobu had no such qualms, diving in first.
Sweeping the Third-Turn Saint with a disdainful look, Lan Xiaobu said, “A mere Third-Turn Saint dares act big before me? I’ll crush your Saintly Dao later—let’s see what you’ve got then.”
With that, he grabbed the saint’s divine sense mark, crushed it to nothing in front of him, and threw a punch.
