Inside the great hall, with the departure of Liaoyin Buddha, the crowd once again turned their attention to the three treasures before them.
"This place is not safe to linger. We must recover as quickly as possible!"
Xiao Ruobai made an immediate decision, producing a formation disc to seal the hall's entrance and prevent any aura from leaking out.
From his storage ring, he took out a jade bottle and poured out several pills emanating a rich, life-giving fragrance.
These were Saint-grade healing pills, capable of swiftly repairing damage to both flesh and soul—priceless in value.
He quickly distributed one to each of Fang Hanyu, Ling Xi, and Fatty Wang, then took one himself.
Spotting Mo Yu sprawled on the ground, he took out another pill: "Take this at once. Heal your injuries."
Mo Yu was startled, instinctively catching the pill. Its dense medicinal aroma perked it right up.
It glanced at Xiao Ruobai and the others, who nonchalantly swallowed their pills and sat down to meditate, while Mo Yu inwardly reeled in shock.
These were Saint-grade pills! And they simply took them like it was nothing?
"So this is what it means to be a direct disciple of a true master?"
Mo Yu muttered inwardly, overwhelmed by a wave of sheer extravagance.
It hesitated no longer, swallowing the pill in one gulp. The pure medicinal power spread through its body, beginning to nourish its damaged Qilin physique.
Then, something even more astonishing unfolded before Mo Yu's wide eyes.
With a flip of his palm, Xiao Ruobai produced a spiritual vein, conjured out of thin air!
Though the vein was sealed and shrunk, the spiritual energy it emitted was incomparably pure—far beyond the ordinary. It was unmistakably a precious King-grade spiritual vein!
Xiao Ruobai placed the King-grade vein directly in the middle of the group, flicked a hand seal, and the vein's seal loosened slightly.
Instantly, a torrent of dense, purifying heaven-and-earth spiritual energy poured out like a waterfall, engulfing them all.
"Extravagant! Downright extravagant!"
Mo Yu frantically absorbed the pure energy dispersing around it while screaming internally.
Using a King-grade spiritual vein just to speed up recovery?
This was unheard of! Back when it was in the demon clan, even as a prodigy, Mo Yu had never enjoyed such lavish resources.
It seemed that following this master meant one thing for sure: resources would never be a worry.
With the combined effect of the Saint-grade pills and the King-grade spiritual vein, their wilted auras visibly rebounded, and within moments, they were restored to peak condition.
Ling Xi stepped forward once more. Spiritual light flickered at her fingertips as she precisely struck several key nodes in the formation's circulation.
The seamless halo, as if hit in its vital spots, rapidly dimmed and stalled.
Soon, the formations over the three stone platforms shattered one after another.
Violet mist unfurled freely, the crimson halberd hummed softly, and the tortoiseshell runes shimmered into visibility.
With a sweeping wave of his hand, Xiao Ruobai's War God blood essence formed an invisible hand, collecting the three treasures along with the ink-jade platforms beneath them.
"I'll hold onto these for now. Once we're safe and away, we'll divide them up."
"Let's go. We'll check the other halls!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Xiao Ruobai took the lead, with the others following close behind.
Meanwhile, in another great hall of the Emperor's Tomb, dozens of cultivators had gathered—ranging from King Realm to quasi-Saint—their atmosphere charged with murderous tension.
At the front of the hall, upon a jade platform, lay a suit of armor!
The armor was a dark gold throughout, ancient and fearsome in design. Its plates were thick, its lines sharp, as if forged through endless blood and fire.
The entire suit emanated a terrifying aura of eternity, indomitability, and relentless conquest.
Merely laying eyes on it sent pricks of pain through one's soul, as if visions of iron-clad cavalry, mountains of corpses, and seas of blood were battering the mind.
"This is at least Saint-grade—no, it could be a Saint King-grade armor!"
"And look at those battle scars upon it... Could this be the armor the Emperor wore before achieving godhood?"
A broadly learned quasi-Saint cultivator spoke with a trembling voice, his eyes filled with undisguised greed and reverence.
At those words, the dozens gathered in the hall—already burning with desire—grew short of breath, their eyes turning bloodshot.
Had it not been for the complex killing formation shrouding the armor, they would have already lunged forward to snatch it.
In an unremarkable corner of the crowd, a burly man with a plain, ordinary look and only mid-King Realm cultivation stood with arms crossed, eyeing the armor with keen interest.
It was Shi Wanshan, in disguise.
"Tsk tsk, now this is something. Solid. Fits me well," Shi Wanshan mused to himself.
Finally, three cultivators who fancied themselves proficient in formations and well-versed in the dao stepped forward, unable to resist, and attempted to break the formation together.
With grave expressions, they sent out streaks of spiritual light, probing the formation's nodes, trying to decipher the workings of this ancient killing array.
The killing formation, eroded by the passage of time, was no longer what it once was, already on the verge of collapse.
After a long while, the three finally found a flaw.
"Attack together, focus on this spot, break through with a single point!"
The crowd held their breath, watching the trio regulate their breaths and gather their power.
"Now! Strike!"
The three shouted in unison, and three bolts of blinding spiritual light shot simultaneously toward three weak nodes in the blood-red killing formation!
"Shiiing—!"
Blood light clashed with spiritual light, producing a piercing screech. The entire formation shuddered violently, and at those nodes, the blood glow rapidly dimmed and destabilized.
A crisp shattering sound rang out. The blood-light barrier over the armor, like a cracked eggshell, was covered in dense fractures until—"Bang!"—it burst apart entirely, scattering into countless specks of crimson light!
The guardian formation was broken!
"The armor!"
"Go!"
The suppressed greed exploded in an instant!
The nearest seven or eight cultivators, including the three quasi-Saints who had broken the formation, lunged simultaneously with reddened eyes, unleashing their fastest speed and most powerful techniques, reaching for the dark gold armor upon the stone platform!
Claw shadows, palm gusts, and the gleam of magical treasures interwove and collided, thunderous bursts of air resounding as a vicious free-for-all seemed inevitable.
But at that very moment, just as countless hands were about to touch the armor—
"A pack of ignorant ants—do you really think you're worthy of a Saint King-grade armor?"
A cold, cutting shout swept through the hall like a blast of winter wind!
Then, a suffocating pressure descended, slamming down onto them all!
More than half of the King Realm cultivators in the hall instantly crumpled to the ground, paralyzed, their faces full of terror.
At the hall's entrance, there now stood an elderly man in a luxurious purple robe, his face dark and sinister.
The aura radiating from him was unmistakably mid-Saint Realm!
"This armor belongs to this Saint now. Leave—NOW."
"Senior! It was we who expended our efforts to break this formation."
A quasi-Saint elder among those who had broken the formation, gritting his teeth against the trembling of his soul, tried to plead their case.
"You seek death!"
The Purple-Robed Saint's eyes turned icy. He did not even raise a hand—only his gaze sharpened.
"Boom!"
An invisible force materialized out of thin air and slammed violently into the talking quasi-Saint, who was at mid-stage!
"Gwaaah—!"
The elder was struck like a bolt of lightning. His protective spiritual light shattered in an instant, and his whole body flew backward like a cannonball, spraying blood mixed with pieces of internal organs. He crashed through a pillar and collapsed amid the rubble, alive or dead unknown.
"Anyone else?" The Purple-Robed Saint's voice fell like the toll of a death knell.
No one dared to answer. No one even dared to breathe too loudly.
"Everyone get the hell out, or you'll die a second too late!!"
The remaining two Formation-Breaking Quasi-Saints turned pale, and without a moment's hesitation, they spun around and retreated, melting into the crowd.
The others scrambled and crawled in sheer panic, desperately fleeing toward the palace exit, cursing their parents for not giving them extra legs.
Shi Wanshan mingled among the panicked crowd, perfectly timing the display of shock and terror on his face as he backed out.
Only then did the Purple-Robed Saint let out a satisfied snort. He took a single step forward, waved his sleeve, and in a flash, swept the suit of armor off the stone platform.
The moment the armor touched his hand—its heavy, solid weight and the restrained yet terrifying killing aura—sent an irrepressible gleam of burning greed through his eyes.
He swept his divine sense across the surroundings, confirmed no one was following, and with a flicker of his form, transformed into a streak of purple light, swiftly leaving the scene of trouble.
He found an abandoned, long-ruined cave dwelling whose aura seemed completely sealed off.
He slipped inside, casually cast a few isolation barriers to block all spiritual energy, and only then did the Purple-Robed Saint relax slightly.
He couldn't wait—he flipped his hand and summoned the dark-gold armor once more, suspending it before him, eager to admire yet again the armor that might have once been worn by an Emperor.
But then, at that very moment, a wolf-tooth club—thicker than thick, impossibly heavy—came smashing down from above his head!
And Shi Wanshan, who had just arrived near the cave and was about to slip in, caught sight of this scene. His steps abruptly halted, and he instinctively tightened his grip on the "dainty" little wolf-tooth club in his own hand!
"Damn it! Who the hell is this guy? He moves this fast? And this style—how is it even wilder than mine?!"
Five chapters done today. Finally finished writing!
world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
