Confluence

As the last wisp of energy merged into her body, Ling Xi slowly opened her eyes, the divine light within them restrained, her aura harmonious and calm.

She sensed the surging power within her and her deeper understanding of the Devouring Dao, then nodded slightly.

This harvest far exceeded expectations.

Not only had her cultivation advanced greatly, but more importantly, she had obtained the primordial crystal of the Taotie and gained profound confirmation of the essence of its devouring path.

She stood up, casting one final glance at the Taotie’s remains—which, having lost its source, was rapidly weathering away and would soon vanish into nothingness—her expression neutral, without joy or sorrow.

The opportunity had been seized; there was nothing left to linger for here.

With a flicker of her form, Ling Xi vanished like a ghost, silently leaving this underground space.

In a few flashes, she appeared above a desolate mountain range.

Atop a solitary peak,

Xiao Ruobai sat cross-legged on a blue stone, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing deep and long, his aura still as a mountain.

He was consolidating his newly breakthrough King realm cultivation and digesting the insights gained from his recent successive battles with Fakong and Wang Zhan.

Within his body, the War God bloodline surged like a awakened river, flowing ceaselessly through his meridians, emitting a low, thunderous rumble.

Every inch of flesh and every piece of bone seemed to be tempered through a thousand refinements, becoming tougher and containing explosive power.

It was a power pure to the extreme, born for battle, constantly washing and refining his kingly foundation.

As his technique circulated, the surrounding space began to twist faintly, as if unable to bear the ever-rising, condensing battle intent within him.

A trace of ancient, desolate battle intent, carrying the clang of armor and the clash of steel, slowly spread from his body.

Gradually, in the void three feet behind him, a vague and massive ancient War God phantom shifted from faint to thick, slowly coalescing and manifesting.

This phantom was clad in a dark-gold, battered war armor that seemed capable of crushing the ages. Its face was indistinct, but its eyes seemed to contain the endless flames of war from the creation of heaven and earth and the conquest of all realms.

It made no move, standing silently, yet a terrifying war might emanated from it, suppressing the eight directions and dominating all, making the surrounding air feel as if it were frozen and heavy several times over.

The phantom breathed in sync with Xiao Ruobai, pulsing slightly with each of his inhalations and exhalations, emitting a palpitation-inducing fluctuation.

Mo Yu had already taken human form, standing silently over ten zhang away, his body leaning slightly forward, maintaining a highly alert posture, his sharp eyes constantly sweeping around.

His divine sense spread like mercury, watchful of any factor that might disturb Xiao Ruobai.

Yet his mind could not help but be shaken by the extraordinary phenomenon triggered by Xiao Ruobai’s cultivation. The Kirin war blood deep within him began to boil.

“Master’s War God body is becoming more terrifying by the day!”

Mo Yu thought in secret shock, his pupils contracting slightly. “Even this phantom, triggered by the battle intent naturally released while stabilizing his realm, already makes me feel as if I’m facing a divine mountain and struggling to breathe. If he fully erupted, what kind of spectacle would that be?”

He recalled being a Kirin, a descendant of a divine beast that had once battled heaven and earth—noble in bloodline and fierce in spirit.

Yet before Xiao Ruobai’s battle will—pure to the extreme and overbearing to the extreme—he felt an overwhelming sense of “triviality.”

“To follow such a master is no disgrace to my Kirin bloodline!”

Amid the shock, Mo Yu felt more of a burning fighting spirit and loyalty.

He could sense that, under the enveloping influence of this War God’s will, his own battle intent and bloodline seemed to be receiving a kind of baptism and stimulation, becoming even more condensed.

Just then, the War God phantom behind Xiao Ruobai suddenly became solid for an instant, as if opening a pair of eyes capable of piercing through the ages, before slowly fading away. Together with the astonishing battle intent, it all withdrew back into Xiao Ruobai’s body.

All phenomena vanished; calm returned.

Xiao Ruobai slowly opened his eyes, his aura fully stabilized, harmonious and unified, his control over King realm power reaching a deeper level.

At that moment—

“Whoosh!”

A sharp, unrivaled sword light streaked across the sky. At first it was extremely distant, but in the blink of an eye, it arrived above the mountain peak!

The sword light dissipated, revealing a white-clad figure—it was Fang Hanyu.

He wasn’t deliberately radiating his aura, but the edge tempered by the Chaos Sword Intent naturally spread around him, as if he himself were a peerless divine weapon about to be unsheathed, causing the surrounding air to faintly freeze.

The Kirin’s fur instantly stood on end, as if targeted by a primordial savage beast. He subconsciously tensed every muscle, his red hair flowing without wind.

His Kirin bloodline boiled, issuing a low, roaring warning, staring at Fang Hanyu as if facing a major enemy!

The threat this person gave him surpassed even that of Wang Zhan before!

“No need to be tense,” Xiao Ruobai’s voice rang out at the right moment, carrying a hint of hardly noticeable warmth.

He looked at Fang Hanyu and gave a slight nod: “You’re here.”

Then he said to the Kirin: “This is my junior brother, Sword in White.”

Upon hearing this, the Kirin’s heart shook, and his tense muscles slowly relaxed, though the vigilance in his eyes did not fully dissipate.

He could sense that this Sword in White’s realm seemed similar to the master’s, but his pure sword intent edge made even him, a King level great yao with Kirin blood, feel his skin prickle.

Fang Hanyu’s gaze swept over the Kirin, pausing briefly on the Kirin bloodline aura flowing within him. He nodded slightly, acknowledging the greeting.

“The third junior sister and Little Fatty didn’t come down the mountain with you?” Xiao Ruobai asked.

“They came out as well,” Fang Hanyu said, his voice cool. “We ran into something on the way and parted ways. They have their own destinations—should be fine.”

Xiao Ruobai nodded and didn’t press further.

Fang Hanyu thought for a moment, then looked at Xiao Ruobai and asked, “Big Senior Brother fought with Wang Zhan. What do you think of him?”

Xiao Ruobai’s eyes showed a touch of recognition: “He is indeed somewhat extraordinary. The Heavenly Desolate Sacred Body lives up to its reputation—boundless potential and a fairly tough mind. Among those of the same rank, few could surpass him.”

He said this calmly, yet it was a high praise.

“Indeed,” Fang Hanyu nodded. “A few days ago, I also fought him. After over three hundred moves, I defeated him. His temperament and insight are among the best; he doesn’t break after defeat, but instead improves. He’s a rare prodigy.”

Nearby, Mo Yu heard their conversation.

Wang Zhan? Defeated again?

Since leaving with Xiao Ruobai, he had been in seclusion here and didn’t yet know that Wang Zhan had also fallen to Sword in White.

“Ha! Scorching!”

He recalled his own bitter defeat at Wang Zhan’s hands and, upon hearing that he had been bested by his master’s junior brother, suddenly felt a great deal of relief.

Yet that sense of relief had barely lasted a moment before it was replaced by a rising gloom.

Master Xiao Ruobai held Wang Zhan in such high regard, with no lack of appreciation in his words.

Could it be that they both valued Wang Zhan so highly?

And him? Blessed with Kirin bloodline and thinking himself extraordinary—still he had lost so miserably to Wang Zhan.

Xiao Ruobai, with his sharp eyes, had long noticed the change in Mo Yu’s expression.

“Wang Zhan is indeed gifted by heaven, but on the great path of competition, neither momentary victory nor defeat, nor mere height of bloodline, determines the ultimate outcome.”

He paused.

"You bear the bloodline of the Qilin, and your potential is equally immense. Cultivate diligently, refine your bloodline, and temper your warrior's heart. One day, you may yet have the chance to defeat him."

These words struck Mo Yu like a thunderclap, dispelling the gloom that had clouded his heart.

He lifted his head abruptly, gazing at Xiao Ruobai, a blazing fire reignited in his eyes.