Volume One, Chapter 67: A Fight to the Death

As Huang the Half-Immortal’s forbidden domain unfolded, a grand Taoist temple emerged, looming faintly in the mist.

“I’ll hold them off. You must leave at once—notify everyone to enter the underground shelters, then send a distress call to headquarters,” Huang the Half-Immortal commanded. With a sweep of the horsetail whisk in his hand, silken strands drifted free, transforming into countless twinkling motes that vanished into the heart of his domain.

A thunderous boom split the air.

Suddenly, the meteorite giant materialized before a soldier and, without warning, snapped his neck.

Because divine essence from Jiang Chen coursed through her veins, Shen Yun’er understood the thoughts flickering through his mind. Knowing Jiang Chen was not a lecherous man, she allowed him to press her beneath him like this—had it been anyone else, she would have killed them with a single slap.

Watching the old man in gray, Jiang Chen could not suppress a cold, inward laugh. If the Black Ice Stone was truly as rare as a lantern in the dark for a craftsman, why would it be piled up here at all?

“The Pulse of the Demon King!” With another furious shout, Yu Chen unleashed a terrifying tricolored energy pulse that tore through the sky, its force exceeding all before it. The blast smashed straight through the sphere of annihilating energy.

Yelü Wanhong’s expression was grim, and Yelü Chengfeng looked little better. If what Xiao Shicheng said was true, what dignity would remain for Mandan? Moreover, Yelü Chixian had already pledged to He Jimu’er that not a single step would be retreated from the southern front until the conflict was resolved.

Kuangtian, the Lynx Tiger Beast, and Lingxi Meiqi approached, softly calling out to Feng Le.

Though Feng Ling sensed something odd in Feng Le’s words, she could not quite grasp it—she just felt something was off.

“Didn’t you, Master, notice the mastermind behind the misfortunes that befell the Divine Dragon Empire?” Long Yunfeng countered.

“Incredible… I didn’t believe it was possible, but someone has truly managed to best Washington Kate…” Lucifer was so shocked he could barely speak. The man he had always considered the strongest was now being steadily overwhelmed by Yu Chen’s power; defeat seemed merely a matter of time.

“I told you so, but you wouldn’t believe me. There’s no use saying more,” Feng Le replied coolly, his attention fixed entirely on the exquisite face only inches away, the faintest hint of fragrance drifting to his nostrils.

“What should I do?” Lin Jie thought with frustration. But then he noticed the special vial in his bag and remembered what the Frog Prince had said earlier.

As Luo Bei stepped onto the Cloudmist Divine Shuttle, suspended motionless among the clouds, Nalan Ruoxue, Cai Shu, and Su Xinyue immediately rushed to question him anxiously.

His homely appearance had always made him feel inferior, but ever since he rose to power, he had never again seen such disregard or mockery in others’ eyes.

The man appeared to be in his thirties. On the right breast of his combat uniform was the insignia of three short swords: the rank of Captain in the Dark Dragon Cavalry. His features bore a three- or four-point resemblance to the young man’s beside him—they must be related by blood.

Zhu Ai and the two other squad leaders had worked with Han Caizhi and Zhang Gou for half a year; they were well-acquainted and often discussed such matters.

“Hannibal! Share your thoughts. You didn’t call us out here in the dead of night without a plan, did you?” The shadow in the center gripped his hands together, pressing them beneath his chin as he spoke with a cold edge.

I frowned, thinking: Zhang Zhi and Hu Jing didn’t know each other before, so why do they chat now as if they’re old friends?

With this sense of anticipation, I finally calmed my heart and drove back to the place Mi Cai and I called home.

Lei Yu’s expression remained unchanged, as if none of this had anything to do with him. The turquoise gleam in his eyes flickered, never once leaving Cai Zhong’s face.

Lei Yu didn’t care; it was, after all, the country’s money—not his own. Besides, he had no intention of seeing those flight attendants again. He’d simply decided to treat the migrant workers to a lavish meal, just to lift his mood for the moment.