Above Olie City.
Aina's expression gradually grew solemn.
She and Xia Lun continued to launch attacks, but none seemed effective.
She finally realized that perhaps the two of them were no match for their opponent.
Aina had already tried every method at her disposal, yet Death Praise remained standing there, utterly unfazed, showing no signs of injury.
She couldn’t even gauge the full extent of his power.
"Xia Lun..."
Aina sent a mental message to him.
"Do you have a way to deal with him?"
"Not yet," Xia Lun retreated to Aina’s side, his right hand gripping the holy sword trembling slightly. For the first time, he faced an opponent that instilled fear in him.
Their enemy was an evil god from beyond their world—though Death Praise might not be as powerful as their world’s goddess, he was still an entity of the same tier, the strongest existence from another realm.
"Fighting any longer is pointless, Xia Lun... We should think about retreating early," Aina transmitted.
"If I leave, who knows what this monster will do to Olie City," Xia Lun replied coldly. "That thing is an evil god."
"We’re just travelers passing through. We’ve already done our best... Xia Lun, don’t force yourself to do the impossible. It’s not worth throwing your life away." Aina’s heart suddenly clenched. "Haven’t you noticed? That guy hasn’t even unleashed any serious attacks. He’s observing us. Right now, we’re no match for him."
"I’ll find a way to hold him off. Aina, go warn Moke and the others—tell them to leave the city immediately." Xia Lun took a deep breath. "The citizens have probably started evacuating already. I’ll keep him at bay until everyone’s gone."
"You can’t do it alone, Xia Lun."
Aina began gathering her mana once more.
No way was she going to flee before Xia Lun—that would be admitting she was weaker than him.
With her pride as the Demon King, how could she accept being outdone by the Hero?
Xia Lun blinked in surprise. "Aina..."
"Liyana isn’t a fool. If she senses what’s happening here, she’ll make the right call," Aina said flatly. "If you die, I’d be troubled."
"Oh?"
Despite the dire situation, a faint smile tugged at Xia Lun’s lips.
"What are you grinning about?" Aina frowned. Did Xia Lun not understand the gravity of the situation? They were about to fight for their lives.
Xia Lun: "Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to say something like that."
Only then did Aina realize her words might have sounded oddly affectionate. She glared at him coldly. "Disgusting."
Her heartbeat quickened slightly.
Her frown deepened.
What was this? Was she actually feeling fear in the face of a powerful enemy? How pathetic.
Death Praise silently observed the two before him.
Just as Aina had guessed, he was studying this world’s power system through them.
After all, every world’s system was different.
In Death Praise’s original world, power was gained through death and inheritance.
But here, it seemed different—people strengthened their bodies with mana or used it to cast something called "magic."
"Lucky bastards," Death Praise mused enviously. The restrictions on mana were far looser than the "death soul" energy he wielded. To attain his current strength, he had sacrificed countless lives, including his own kin.
And as Aina had surmised, he hadn’t gone all out. If he unleashed too much power here and drew the attention of the "Goddess," it would be disastrous.
Still, the "Goddess" wasn’t omniscient. As long as he restrained himself, he could accomplish much before being detected.
He could grow even stronger.
But now, he faced an obstacle.
These two... were proving troublesome, especially the man.
He carried the "Goddess’s" power—he was her agent. There was no telling what restrictions she might have placed on him. If he died, it might attract her gaze.
So... he’d start with the woman first.
Death Praise took a step forward, as if ignoring space itself, and appeared right before Aina.
Aina reacted instantly, leaping back—but Death Praise’s skeletal claw had already seized her arm, leaving a blackened wound on her fair skin.
"Aina!" Xia Lun’s pupils shrank. With a roar, he charged forward, locking Death Praise in combat.
Dark tendrils spread from the wound, creeping up Aina’s arm toward her body.
The flesh on her arm began to rot away rapidly, like a candle melting at unnatural speed.
Without hesitation, Aina drew an impossibly sharp dagger and severed her arm at the shoulder, letting out a pained grunt.
Then, crimson light flickered in her eyes. Bones reformed, flesh regrew, nerves reconnected—within moments, a brand-new arm had taken shape.
This was the formidable regenerative ability of her vampire lineage.
Though it revealed her true nature, there was no helping it now.
Xia Lun’s holy sword carved brilliant arcs through the air as he unleashed a relentless barrage of slashes. Yet Death Praise dodged with eerie agility, evading every strike.
Ever since Xia Lun summoned the holy sword, Death Praise had started avoiding his attacks... as if unwilling to be wounded by it.
Which meant—Xia Lun could hurt him.
Gritting his teeth, Xia Lun intensified his assault.
......
Ankula stared blankly at the three figures clashing in the sky.
She had seen Aina wounded, seen Xia Lun fighting covered in blood—both giving their all to protect the city.
And here she was, just watching?
Even the Flame Monarch had fled in terror from the enemy’s aura. What could she possibly do?
Was there... any being stronger, any existence that could help her stand against an evil god?
Ankula couldn’t imagine one.
What could she do? Was there any way... anything left within her power...
Suddenly, Ankula’s head snapped up.
She had no guarantees, but she had to try.
Beyond the summoning ritual, as a witch, she possessed another ability.
Foresight and divination.
If she couldn’t think of any being capable of defeating that evil god... then she would use foresight to find the answer!
Time was running out. She would perform the divination and the summoning ritual simultaneously—after all, the ritual required no effort, only relaxation.
Ankula returned to her room and sat cross-legged before the pre-drawn magic circle.
"Please... whoever you are, wherever you come from... lend me your strength..."
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
