Shan Bu’ang shot to his feet, his face flushed with rage. He knew these sects were here for the Time Tree, but he hadn’t expected them to stoop to such shameless tactics when they couldn’t win it through the contest.
Before he could speak, Tian Mo Hall’s Lord Zhen Changtian struck, his savage saint domain tearing through Shan Bu’ang’s own. Saint Desolation’s Da Xuanqiong followed with a fist that blasted toward him.
*Boom!* Blood mist erupted. Caught off guard, half of Shan Bu’ang’s body was reduced to gore.
He staggered back, shouting wildly, “All Li Zhou Palace members, retreat to the palace…”
But the sect leaders on Time Mountain plaza weren’t about to let him escape. Every powerhouse attacked.
Li Zhou Palace cultivators couldn’t even dream of retreating to the palace—leaving the plaza was a stretch.
In moments, the plaza ran red with blood. Those lingering to watch the Time Tree contest were mostly Li Zhou Star locals, largely low-level cultivators, some not even immortals. Against a horde of proven saints’ divine powers, they had no chance, turning to mist.
Zhi Ji, without hesitation, unleashed a black umbrella, its dark canopy slicing a divide between them and the four sects’ elites.
Shan Bu’ang caught his breath, swallowing several pills to regrow his flesh, though everyone knew his strength had plummeted.
“How many left?” Shan Bu’ang, pale, glanced back. In that brief clash, nearly a third of Li Zhou Star’s proven saints had fallen, trading their lives for just a handful of the enemy’s.
“Li Zhou Palace lost thirty percent,” Second Palace Lord Chen Jiutian replied, blood-soaked and wounded.
Shan Bu’ang barked, “Junior Brother Chen, take people and set up the defensive array—block anyone from breaching it. Elder Zhi’s Extreme Realm Umbrella won’t hold long. I’ll deploy the Li Zhou Cauldron soon; everyone stabilize it. If they can’t crack it quickly, we’ve got a shot to escape. Even if not all, our foundation must survive.”
As he spoke, he summoned a massive cauldron. It hit the ground, steadying the trembling black umbrella under bombardment.
…
Wrapped in the Li Zhou Cauldron, Li Zhou Palace’s monks and disciples were shielded, the attackers unable to break through—for now.
Zhen Changtian said, “Stop hitting it. This is Shan Bu’ang’s Li Zhou Cauldron, backed by him and a crew of proven saints. We can’t crack it fast. I’ve got a way to smash it quick, though. We’ve crossed Li Zhou Palace now—we have to wipe Li Zhou Star clean…”
He paused, frowning at Beast Soul Dao’s Yi Xie, “Lord Yi, something to say?”
Yi Xie’s face was ashen, eyes blazing, his killing intent palpable, ready to devour.
Taking a deep breath, he spat out each word, “Beast Soul Dao’s been wiped out. Nearly all core disciples and elders—none escaped. Worse, our Saint Dao Platform’s about to be taken…”
His voice shook. Though most of Beast Soul Dao’s strength was here on Li Zhou Star, its legacy and soul—the Saint Dao Platform—were back home. Losing that meant the sect was as good as dead.
Not just Yi Xie, every Beast Soul elder seethed—someone dared raze their base? Unthinkable. And Yi Xie’s earlier claim that Zhi Yi killed their legacy saintess, Bai Xixi, now rang prophetic—she was dead, just not by Zhi Yi’s hand.
The other sect leaders and elders grew uneasy. Beast Soul Dao gone—could their own sects be next? Their main forces were here; if someone hit their homes, they might fall too.
“Could Li Zhou Palace have planned this, knowing we’d come here, leaving our sects vulnerable, and sent elites to hit us?” Da Xuanqiong ventured, his gut twisting. Saint Desolation’s planet was its root—lose it, and the sect was finished. Others might rebuild elsewhere; Saint Desolation couldn’t.
Zhen Changtian stayed silent, his worst fear echoing Da Xuanqiong’s. Tian Mo Hall’s defenses on Tian Mo Star were weaker than Beast Soul Dao’s. If they fell, how would Tian Mo fare?
Huang Quan’s ancestor stepped up, “No need to panic. This isn’t Li Zhou Palace’s doing—their elites are all here, they’ve no spare strength to hit Beast Soul Dao. My take? Focus, wipe out Li Zhou Palace, grab their lord—then it’ll all come clear.”
Zhen Changtian sneered inwardly. Huang Quan Sacred Dao feared no assault—their planet was guarded by a Huang Quan barrier, unbreakable. No one could touch them.
He didn’t voice it, instead piggybacking, “Brother Qiong, I agree with Huang Quan’s ancestor. Whether Li Zhou Palace ambushed us or not, our only move is to smash the Li Zhou Cauldron. Lord Yi, even if you head back now, you can’t save Beast Soul Dao. Your chance lies here.”
“Fine,” Yi Xie’s killing intent surged. If he didn’t reduce Li Zhou Star to ash today, his half-step eternal life was wasted. He knew returning wouldn’t fix anything—whoever razed Beast Soul Dao, if they held a grudge, wouldn’t dodge him.
…
Countless treasures pounded the cauldron and outer array, the cauldron trembling with each boom. Inside, Li Zhou Palace cultivators cowered—strong as they were, they couldn’t face four star sects at once.
“My fault. I shouldn’t have hesitated, should’ve barred the four sects from Li Zhou Star at the start,” Shan Bu’ang muttered, regret heavy.
Had he refused Tian Mo Hall, Huang Quan Sacred Dao, Saint Desolation, and Beast Soul Dao outright, it’d have been a fight at worst. With their star array, even a loss would’ve let some escape—not this suffocating trap at Time Mountain’s base.
One wrong step, every step wrong. In cultivation, hesitation left no room to recover.
“Palace Lord, before climbing World Mountain, Zhi Yi left me a jade slip. She said if the other sects turned on us, I should use it to seek help,” Zhi Ji said, stepping forward, her heart uneasy.
“What…” Shan Bu’ang and the elders gaped at Zhi Ji. A joke? Help? Four star sects besieging them—who could intervene? Even a star sect with the power wouldn’t be dumb enough to cross four planetary giants for a doomed Li Zhou Palace.
“Elder Zhi, you’re not kidding, right?” Chen Jiutian couldn’t help asking.
Zhi Ji paused, then said, “I thought it was a joke too, but without outside aid, we’re dead here. And something I just saw gave me the guts to mention it.”
Shan Bu’ang’s voice was low, “Elder Zhi, who did Zhi Yi say to ask?”
“A man named Lan Xiaobu, a friend she met on her recent trial…”
At that, sighs of disappointment rippled through. What friend could Zhi Yi have? At best, someone like her. Even twice her strength—how could that solve this?
Only Shan Bu’ang pressed, “Elder Zhi, go on.”
Zhi Ji nodded, “Zhi Yi wasn’t clear, but I sensed her tone—she respects this friend, even admires him. Her topping Time Mountain? I’d bet it’s tied to him.”
What? Shock swept through. Casually putting someone atop Time Mountain—stronger than an eternal saint? Zhi Yi, once just a “Coward Sage,” knowing someone like that?
