Martial God's Barrier-Breaking Pill, Heavenly Tribulation as Wedding Garment

Of the thirty thousand cultivators present for the ceremony, at least five thousand had fainted outright.

The rest trembled violently in the crossfire of the two overwhelming forces, finding even drawing a breath to be an extravagant luxury.

Only one person was still eating.

Wang Hao pulled a packet of Kunlun pine nuts from his sleeve and cracked them open one by one, looking as leisurely as if he were watching a theatrical play.

Elder Wugu could bear it no longer and asked in a low voice, Your Majesty, are you not afraid?

Afraid of what? Wang Hao retorted.

Five great Demon Gods, two Martial Gods... if seven existences surpassing the Sky-Soaring Realm start fighting, the entire Kunlun Mountain will be leveled. Before them, we are worse than ants.

Wang Hao spat out a pine nut shell and smiled.

Elder Wugu, I will make a bet with you. They won't fight.

Why?

Wang Hao held up three fingers.

First, the demon race wants quotas for the secret realm, not an all-out war. Second, the Central State wants to stall for time until their reinforcements arrive. Third... He lowered his fingers, a calculating gleam flashing in his eyes. Neither side is absolutely certain of victory. Five Demon Gods against two Martial Gods gives the demons the advantage. But what if that old fossil Jiang Cangyun flanks them from behind? What if the other slumbering Martial Gods of the Sixteen Holy Lands awaken as well? The demon race doesn't dare to gamble, and neither does the Central State. When neither side is willing to risk it, there is only one path left: sit down and talk.

Just as his voice faded, the two auras of the Martial Gods underground finally burst forth from the earth.

Two streaks of golden light shot up simultaneously from the east and west sides of the Tianxu Peak, condensing in midair into two elderly figures. The one on the east wore a white robe, had a youthful face despite his crane-white hair, and shared a slight resemblance to Jiang Cangyun. This was none other than the second Martial God of the Tianque Holy Land: Jiang Canghai. The one on the west was clad in crimson armor, his hair and beard as red as blazing fire. This was the Martial God of the Chixiao Holy Land: Patriarch Chiyan.

The auras of these two Martial Gods were a notch weaker than Jiang Cangyun's, evidently because they had slumbered for too long and had yet to recover to their peak states. However, the combined might of two Martial Gods, coupled with the foundational mountain-protecting arrays of Kunlun Mountain, was enough to force the five Demon Gods to restrain themselves slightly.

Holy King Canglong looked at the two newly emerged Martial Gods and cupped his hands. Jiang Canghai, Patriarch Chiyan, I hope you two old friends have been well. The last time we met was at the Myriad Races Assembly twelve hundred years ago. Back then, neither of you had started sleeping in coffins yet.

Jiang Canghai said indifferently, Canglong, you have brought four Demon Gods to block the gates of my Kunlun Mountain. Are you trying to spark another great war between humans and demons?

It's not that serious. I am merely here to demand ten quotas for the children. Your Sixteen Holy Lands have occupied the Kunlun Secret Realm for ten thousand years, while the demon race hasn't entered even once. Ten thousand years... isn't it about time we got a turn?

Patriarch Chiyan had a fiery temper and shouted sternly, The secret realm was left behind by the Martial Gods of the human race. On what grounds should the demon race be allowed to enter?

The woman draped in white feathers standing beside Holy King Canglong suddenly spoke, her voice as cold as ice. Old ghost Chiyan, you claim the secret realm was left by human Martial Gods? Then do you know that among the group of Martial Gods who opened the Kunlun Secret Realm ten thousand years ago, one of them was a demon in their true form? Why shouldn't the demon race enter a secret realm that our demonic predecessors helped create?

Patriarch Chiyan choked on his words.

What the Feather Demon God said was the truth. Among the mighty figures who opened the Kunlun Secret Realm ten thousand years ago, there was indeed a Demon God of the demon race. This secret was not unknown among the higher-ups of the human race; it was simply never publicized. Now that the demon race had exposed it to their faces, he momentarily did not know how to retort.

Right at this moment, Wang Hao's voice echoed from the sapphire seats.

Seniors, allow me to interject.

Everyone looked at him once more.

Wang Hao stood up, walked to the footprint Jiang Cangyun had stomped into the center of the plaza, and looked up at the seven transcendent existences in the sky with a charming smile.

The seven of you are all existences who have lived for over a millennium. If you fight, it will surely shatter the heavens and crack the earth. But what happens after the fight? The demon race loses a few Demon Gods, the Central State loses a few Martial Gods, and both sides suffer heavy casualties. Then, the eerie anomalies will exploit your weakness and swallow both humans and demons alike. Is that a worthwhile trade?

He paused.

My suggestion is simple: give the demon race their ten quotas. However, deduct these quotas from the Sixteen Holy Lands. The Sixteen Holy Lands, along with the other factions of the Central State, originally had three hundred quotas. Deducting ten leaves two hundred and ninety; it's a painless loss. The demon race gets their quotas and gains face. The Central State retains control over the secret realm and keeps its substance. Everyone is happy. Why all this shouting about killing and fighting?

Holy King Canglong looked at Wang Hao, the amusement in his vertical pupils growing thicker. Wang Hao, are you speaking on behalf of the demon race?

I am not speaking for the demon race. I am speaking for myself. Wang Hao spread his hands. If you fight, my army of seven hundred thousand is still in the Reception City. If they get caught in the crossfire, who am I supposed to ask for compensation? I am a timid person who fears war the most. If we can talk, let's not fight. Harmony brings wealth; that is my life's creed.

The entire venue fell dead silent once again.

Timid? You slapped down thirty-seven Holy Sons and Holy Daughters in three palm strikes, injured the Martial God Jiang Cangyun with a single sword strike, and are now chatting and laughing merrily in front of five Demon Gods—and you call this timid?

Holy King Canglong burst into roaring laughter, his voice carrying genuine appreciation. Wang Hao, you are truly a fascinating person. In my three thousand six hundred years of life, I have never met someone as candid as you. Very well, I will give you face. Ten quotas, deducted from the Sixteen Holy Lands. Jiang Canghai, what do you say?

Jiang Canghai remained silent for a long time.

He looked at the four Demon Gods behind Holy King Canglong, then at Patriarch Chiyan beside him who had yet to recover to his peak, and finally at Wang Hao, who was sitting on the sapphire seat cracking pine nuts. He knew this battle could not be fought. Patriarch Chiyan had been forcibly awakened, leaving his combat strength at only seventy percent of his peak. He himself was in a similar state. Jiang Cangyun was in secluded slumber and could not join the fray anytime soon. Meanwhile, the five opposing Demon Gods were all in perfect condition. If a real fight broke out, the Central State was bound to lose.

Furthermore, there was Wang Hao eyeing them like a tiger watching its prey. Although this person only had the cultivation of a half-step Martial God, one glance was enough to tell he was up to no good, and somehow the four regions had actually banded together. If a fight broke out and he stabbed them in the back, the Central State would truly be skinned alive.

Fine, Jiang Canghai squeezed the word through his gritted teeth. Ten quotas for the demon race. But this is strictly for this iteration of the Kunlun Secret Realm and will not set a precedent.

Holy King Canglong nodded in satisfaction. Deal.

With a sweep of his large sleeve, the eerie green flame on the cyan incense stick was instantly extinguished. He then turned to look toward the black rift and snapped his fingers.

Ten figures flew out from the rift.

They were ten prodigies of the demon race. Some had wings on their backs, some had a single horn on their foreheads, some were covered in scales, and some had demonic fire burning in their eyes. Every single one of them possessed a cultivation at the peak of the Sky-Soaring Realm or even half-step Martial God. Their eyes bore an arrogant, condescending gaze, as if the thirty thousand cultivators beneath them were nothing but prey waiting to be slaughtered.

Holy King Canglong looked at these ten prodigies and said flatly, Once you enter, you only have two tasks. First, find your fortuitous encounters and come out alive. Second, do not disgrace the demon race.

The ten demon prodigies acknowledged the order in unison.

Then, Holy King Canglong's gaze fell upon Wang Hao once more, a profoundly meaningful smile flashing in his vertical pupils.

Wang Hao, your Eastern Wasteland prodigies will also be entering the mystic realm, right?

Of course. Wang Hao nodded.

Then you had better tell them to be careful. In the mystic realm, life and death are left to fate. My children are quite fond of eating people.

These words were spoken lightly, but every syllable carried the stench of blood.

Wang Hao's smile remained unchanged. Rest assured, Holy King Canglong. My prodigies also love eating meat, especially when it is braised.

The two locked eyes and burst into loud laughter simultaneously.

The laughter echoed at the intersection of demonic aura and Martial God coercion, making the scalps of thirty thousand people go numb. They had a strong premonition that this time, the Kunlun Mystic Realm would likely be far bloodier than any previous iteration.

The opening of the Kunlun Mystic Realm was set for the hour of the Dragon the next day.

That night, after Wang Hao led the people of the Eastern Wasteland back to their encampment, he did not hold any meetings or arrange any tactics. He simply walked into the central command tent alone, dropped the curtain, and isolated himself from all outside noise.

The ten great prodigies stood guard outside the tent, fifteen Void Traversing Realm experts lined up on both sides, and Wei Zhongxian stood by the entrance holding a jade slip, ready to record the emperor's verbal decrees at any moment.

But Wang Hao did not say a word.

He sat cross-legged on a futon, a golden pill floating in front of him.

The pill was only the size of a thumb, perfectly round, with nine different colored lights flowing across its surface. Red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, purple, black, and white. The nine colors intertwined, forming a constantly shifting pattern of Dao rhythm on the pill's surface. Just the medicinal fragrance emanating from it caused the spiritual energy concentration inside the tent to surge tenfold. A fine layer of spiritual liquid condensed on the tent walls, slowly trickling down the fabric.

The Martial God Barrier-Breaking Pill.

This was the reward Wang Hao received for signing in outside the Kunlun Mystic Realm today. The system's description was very simple: Martial God Barrier-Breaking Pill: Upon consumption, the user can break through to the Martial God Realm without any side effects. Note: Because the host has repeatedly disrupted the heavenly secrets, the Heavenly Dao has locked onto the host's aura. Breaking through will attract the strongest heavenly tribulation in history. Proceed with caution.

The strongest heavenly tribulation in history, Wang Hao muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth curling into a dangerous arc. I have lived for over twenty years. I have been assassinated, wanted by Holy Lands, and stepped on by Martial Gods, but I have never been struck by a heavenly tribulation. I wonder what it feels like to be struck by lightning.

Host, it is not recommended that you actively court death. For once, the system's voice carried a hint of helplessness.

How can you say I am courting death? Wang Hao said self-righteously. I call this preparing for a rainy day. Think about it. Right now on Kunlun Mountain, there are five Demon Gods, two Martial Gods, and sixteen sect masters full of wicked schemes. What if they team up to screw me over? I need to have a trump card to turn the tables, right? This pill is my nuclear weapon.

Host, are you sure you want to do this?

I am sure. Wang Hao tucked the Martial God Barrier-Breaking Pill into his sleeve, a glint flashing in his eyes. But not right now. Good steel must be used on the blade's edge, and a good pill must be swallowed at the most critical moment. When the mystic realm opens tomorrow, I will first see what kind of play the Central Continent and the Demon Race put on before deciding when to take the medicine.

He stood up, lifted the tent curtain, and walked out.

Outside the tent, the ten great prodigies turned around in unison, staring at him with burning gazes.

Xiao Chen stood at the very front. His aura was much deeper than it had been ten days ago. The liquid astral qi within his dantian was nearing perfection, only a paper-thin barrier away from breaking through the Void Traversing Realm to the next realm.

Your Majesty, Xiao Chen cupped his fists. For tomorrow's expedition into the mystic realm, we are ready.

Wang Hao glanced at him. Ready for what?

Ready to... Xiao Chen hesitated for a moment. Act according to circumstances, adapt to the situation, and make backstabbing others our top priority.

Wang Hao nodded in satisfaction. And what else?

And... Xiao Chen's expression became somewhat subtle. If we encounter the Holy Sons and Holy Maidens of the Central Continent, kill them if we can. If we cannot, frame the Demon Race. If we encounter prodigies of the Demon Race, scheme against them if we can. If we cannot, frame the Central Continent. If we encounter an invincible opponent, run away first. As long as the green hills remain, there will be no shortage of firewood.

Good! Wang Hao clapped his hands. Xiao Chen, you have absorbed eighty percent of my training course. The remaining twenty percent is practice. True knowledge comes from practice, so train hard in the mystic realm.

He turned to Ye Guyun. Guyun, what is your mission?

Ye Guyun was hugging a new sword, the Heaven-rank high-grade divine weapon Cold Abyss. The blade was a deep blue throughout, radiating a bone-piercing chill. He remained silent for a moment before saying coldly, Kill enemies, seize treasures, and do not linger in battle.

Wrong. Wang Hao held up a finger. Your mission is to find the most valuable things in the mystic realm before all the other prodigies, and then hide them. When the people from the Central Continent and the Demon Race come looking, you will appear as someone who just happened to be passing by and sell the items to them at a high price.

Ye Guyun's mouth twitched. Your Majesty, I am a sword cultivator.

So what if you are a sword cultivator? Do sword cultivators not need to eat? Do sword cultivators not need to earn spirit stones? Wang Hao looked deeply pained. Guyun, you must understand that when the path of the sword is cultivated to the extreme, it is not about sword techniques, it is about resources. How many spirit stones does a good sword cost? How many spirit stones does a Heaven-rank Blood Qi Pill cost? If you do not save up a fortune, how will you break through in the future? Do you expect me to support you for the rest of your life?

Ye Guyun remained silent for a long time before finally squeezing out a single word through his gritted teeth: Understood.