Wang Hao, however, did not lower his head.
With the support of the Transcendence Realm physical examination card, he could finally see the Emperor Corpse clearly, face to face.
It was strong.
Disturbingly strong.
But not untouchable.
An Emperor Corpse was, after all, still a corpse.
It had no complete intelligence.
Its dao marks were incomplete.
Its power was tainted by the Emperor's Fallen Monument—eerily terrifying, yet far from flawless.
More importantly.
It had not fully awakened.
Ji Wushang could drive it, but he could not truly control it.
That was the opening.
Wang Hao raised his hand.
The Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower soared into the air.
The tower gate burst open with a thunderous roar.
From the first floor to the ninth, layers of thunderlight blazed to life, one after another.
Nine levels of thunder might rumbled within the tower.
On the eighth floor, a thunder phoenix spread its wings.
On the ninth floor, a violet thunder dragon opened its eyes.
In the past, activating the ninth-floor violet dragon required caution from Wang Hao.
But now, he directly flooded the tower with his Imperial True Essence.
The Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower quaked violently.
It was as if a slumbering god of thunder had been personally awakened by an emperor's hand.
"Thunder Phoenix."
"Violet Dragon."
"Out!"
Boom!
The tower gate blasted open.
The thunder phoenix emerged first.
Its ten-thousand-zhang thunder wings swept across the abyss, its cry tearing through the tidal wave of death.
Then came the violet thunder dragon, roaring forth.
This was not merely the full-powered strike of a Martial God at the ninth realm.
Under the Transcendence bearing state, Wang Hao fused his Imperial Dragon Qi into the violet dragon's body.
Golden scale patterns shimmered across the dragon's form.
Purple and gold interwoven.
Dragon might vast and overwhelming.
It was like a true thunder dragon executing heavenly punishment on behalf of a mortal emperor.
The Emperor Corpse raised its hand.
Ashen-white death qi congealed into a wall of imperial death.
The thunder phoenix slammed into the wall and exploded instantly.
Countless thunder feathers ripped cracks through the death qi.
The violet-gold thunder dragon followed right behind, its claws pressing hard against the death wall.
Boom!
All sound vanished from heaven and earth.
The death wall was shattered to pieces by the thunder dragon.
For the first time, the Emperor Corpse retreated half a step.
Half a step.
Only half a step.
But to the eyes of everyone watching, it was as if a hole had been punched through the very heavens.
"It retreated!"
Han Shanyue roared.
"The Emperor Corpse retreated!"
The soldiers of Da Xia erupted in frenzied cheers.
They had been crushed to the ground, unable to rise.
But the fire in their eyes reignited.
The shadow of the Emperor Corpse's supposed invincibility had been torn open by Wang Hao's strike.
Ji Wushang's pupils contracted sharply.
"Impossible!"
Wang Hao stepped on thunderlight, ascending into the sky in a single stride.
"Ji Wushang."
"Besides saying 'impossible,' do you have anything else to say?"
He raised his right palm.
Within his palm, Imperial True Essence surged.
The Heaven-Prisoning Earth-Overturning Palm.
A divine-grade martial technique.
Nine strikes in total.
Each strike exponentially stronger than the last.
Chain all nine strikes together, and even a mid-stage Martial God could not withstand them.
Previously, Wang Hao had used this technique at the first level of Martial God—devastating, but limited by his body's endurance.
Now, everything was different.
Under Transcendence bearing, he could finally push this palm technique to its current absolute limit without restraint.
"Strike one."
Wang Hao pressed his palm down.
Void sank.
As if the heavens had flipped and the earth's veins reversed.
A colossal palm print was slammed into the ashen-white death tide.
The Emperor Corpse raised its head, its pitch-black eyes locking onto Wang Hao.
Strike two followed immediately.
"Strike two."
Boom!
Palm print stacked upon palm print.
Power surged explosively.
The remnants of the nine-coffin formation around the altar cracked and crumbled wildly.
Strike three.
Strike four.
Strike five.
Wang Hao's strikes came faster and faster.
Each palm fell like an entire world crashing down.
Imperial Dragon Qi coiled between the palm prints, unleashing deafening dragon roars.
Before the Emperor Corpse, ashen-white death qi kept condensing, only to be scattered again and again.
The ground beneath its feet gave way, step by step.
Even the main coffin was riddled with cracks.
The New Emperor Sword stared, utterly stunned.
"This palm technique..."
"You were never this ferocious before!"
Wang Hao said coldly, "Because back then, I had a useless sword dragging me down."
The New Emperor Sword fumed: "This sovereign at least held off the Emperor Corpse just now!"
Wang Hao said, "That's called getting beaten up."
The New Emperor Sword: "..."
It realized that now that Wang Hao was back on top, his mouth had gotten even harder.
No.
This tyrant's mouth had always been hard.
It was just that now his fists were hard too.
Wang Hao's sixth strike fell.
The Emperor Corpse raised its arm to block.
Boom!
The Emperor Corpse's arm trembled slightly.
A corner of its tattered imperial robe shattered off.
Strike seven.
Wang Hao's palm intent shifted.
The meaning of "Prisoning Heaven" manifested.
All four directions of heaven and earth seemed sealed within an invisible cage.
The ashen-white death qi around the Emperor Corpse was forcibly pressed back into its body.
Strike eight.
The momentum of "Overturning Earth" surged.
The entire nine-coffin sacrificial altar collapsed downward.
Standing at the highest point, Ji Wushang swayed violently, almost thrown off by the shockwave.
His expression was utterly foul.
"Wang Hao!"
Wang Hao didn't even glance at him.
"Don't rush."
"You're next."
Strike nine.
Wang Hao's gaze turned sharp and fierce.
Nine streams of Imperial Dragon Qi merged into his palm simultaneously.
The Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower hung behind him, the violet-gold thunder dragon coiling around its body.
He also grabbed the New Emperor Sword.
"Sword man."
"Lend me your strength."
The New Emperor Sword wanted to talk back.
But seeing Wang Hao's current state, it suddenly chose wisdom.
"Your Majesty, take whatever you need."
Wang Hao smirked.
"That was quick to cave."
The New Emperor Sword said through gritted teeth, "This sovereign calls it prioritizing the bigger picture."
Wang Hao couldn't be bothered to argue.
The New Emperor Sword's black-gold sword light merged into Wang Hao's palm.
Spirit, slaughter, flesh, death domain—four remnant powers were forcibly unified under Imperial True Essence.
In that moment.
His palm held thunder.
It held a sword.
It held imperial dao.
It held the force of prisoning heaven and overturning earth.
"Strike nine."
Wang Hao brought his palm down.
"Kneel!"
Boom!
Heaven and earth seemed torn through by that single strike.
All ashen-white death qi before the Emperor Corpse detonated simultaneously.
It raised both arms to block.
But the power of the ninth strike accumulated layer upon layer, and the unspent momentum of the previous eight strikes all exploded at once.
Crack!
The stone steps beneath the Emperor Corpse collapsed.
Its legs buckled.
Under Wang Hao's palm, it was forced to drop to one knee into the altar!
Silence fell across the entire battlefield.
Then—
The soldiers of Da Xia erupted in earth-shaking roars.
"Your Majesty is invincible!"
"Your Majesty is invincible!"
"Your Majesty is invincible!"
The cries broke through the Corpose's suppression, broke through the death qi of myriad graves, like a dying people seizing hold of the beacon fires of the mortal world once more.
Ji Wushang's face turned iron-gray.
"Impossible..."
Wang Hao finally turned to look at him.
His gaze was cold as a blade.
"'Impossible' again."
"Ji Wushang, you truly disappoint me."
He took a single step forward.
Thunderlight spread beneath his feet.
The New Emperor Sword circled around him.
The Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower hovered above his head.
Nine streams of Imperial Dragon Qi roared and spiraled around his body.
In this moment, though Wang Hao was still only at the first level of Martial God, he radiated the sheer majesty of a mortal emperor suppressing the corpse of a dead emperor with ruthless might.
He looked at Ji Wushang, his voice ringing through the depths of Myriad Graves Abyss.
"You say I shouldn't exist."
"But I, at least, am alive."
"What about you?"
"Hiding behind the dead."
"Borrowing the might of an Emperor Corpse."
"Propped up by coffins."
"Ji Wushang."
Wang Hao grinned, a cold and chilling smile.
"You're so pathetic. How do you have the nerve to pretend you're a puppet master behind the scenes?"
Ji Wushang flew into a blind rage.
His eyes turned blood-red, and the bizarre runes across his body burned wildly.
"Wang Hao!"
"This sovereign will make you die!"
Wang Hao raised the New Emperor Sword, its edge pointing straight at the highest point of the altar.
"Come."
"For this quarter-hour, I specialize in putting the arrogant in their place."
The voice echoed once more through the empty depths.
It was not mere provocation.
It was more like an imperial edict.
And when an edict was issued, all under heaven had to bow.
Around the nine-coffin altar, shattered formation lines still burned, blood-colored flames writhing like countless dying serpents over stone steps, coffins, and broken steles.
The Emperor Corpse was on one knee in the altar.
But it felt no pain.
Nor shame.
It simply raised its head slowly.
In those pitch-black pupils, the vortex of death spun deeper and deeper.
That gaze seemed to shine from countless epochs ago.
No emotion.
No fury.
Only a lofty, rotting decay.
As if being alive itself were an offense against it.
Ji Wushang stood at the highest point of the altar, his face dark beyond measure.
He could not accept it.
The Emperor Corpse had been pressed to its knees by a single palm strike from Wang Hao.
Even if it was only on one knee.
Even if the Emperor Corpse had not fully awakened.
But that was still a Transcendence-level Emperor Corpse!
It was the ultimate trump card he had awakened through countless schemes, countless blood sacrifices, and countless sources of corruption.
And Wang Hao?
A mere Martial God Stage second layer.
A tyrant who had been ready to run moments ago.
A bastard whose mouth was harder than his life, whose heart was blacker than ink, and who even recorded sword history of shame while fleeing.
How?
How could he possibly do this?
The dark patterns under Ji Wushang's eyes spread wildly.
He stared at Wang Hao, his voice squeezing through gritted teeth.
"Wang Hao."
"Do you think some temporary secret art can overturn destiny and change your fate?"
Wang Hao hoisted the New Emperor Sword onto his shoulder and casually rolled his neck.
His joints popped with crackling sounds.
He smiled.
"Overturn destiny and change fate?"
"Ji Wushang, are you overestimating yourself?"
"Do you even qualify to be called fate?"
Ji Wushang's gaze turned icy.
But Wang Hao gave him no chance to speak.
His specialty was striking while the iron was hot.
Of course.
Before striking to kill, he struck at the mind first.
Wang Hao raised his sword at Ji Wushang, his tone mocking.
"I used to think you were some ancient, scheming mastermind."
"But after fighting all the way here, I've realized you're actually pretty simple."
"Can't win a fight? Release some aberrations."
"Not enough aberrations? Release an ancient corpse."
"Ancient corpse fails? Release an Emperor Corpse."
"And if the Emperor Corpse still doesn't work, are you planning to dig up your own ancestral graves too?"
Ji Wushang's forehead veins bulged in fury.
Wang Hao pressed on with the verbal dagger.
"Oh, I almost forgot."
"Someone like you probably doesn't have a single respectable ancestor in those graves anyway."
"I mean, anyone who could raise a pathetic waste like you who relies on dead men to back him up—their family feng shui must be seriously lacking in virtue."
The Great Xia crowd had been tense beyond measure.
Hearing this, their faces twitched uncontrollably.
The Demon Lord lay on the ground, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
He knew it.
The better the Emperor's condition, the sharper his tongue.
Ghost Granny sucked in a cold breath.
"Is His Majesty... insulting people?"
Yin Jiuyou shook his head.
"No."
"He's gutting a man's heart."
Xue Wuhen murmured, "Not just that."
"He's also digging up the ancestral graves along the way."
The New Emperor Sword hovered beside Wang Hao, listening in shock.
It suddenly felt that Wang Hao's earlier scolding of it had actually been rather gentle.
At least he hadn't insulted its ancestors.
Of course, it didn't have ancestors.
Thinking about it, it felt a strange sense of equilibrium.
Ji Wushang's expression was already too ugly to describe.
What kind of figure was he?
He had schemed for ten thousand ages.
He spanned life and death.
He used the corruption source of the Emperor's Fallen Stele as his chess piece, the Myriad Abyss as his board, and the Nine Coffin Altar as his game.
He considered himself to look down upon all living beings.
Yet Wang Hao's relentless scolding had reduced him from a behind-the-scenes mastermind to a grave-robbing petty thief.
The worst part?
Wang Hao's insults were vicious.
But every single one hit close to home.
Right now, he was indeed relying on the Emperor Corpse.
That hurt.
Wang Hao was smiling on the outside.
But his heart was as cold as ice.
He wasn't just running his mouth for fun.
Even though talking trash was indeed satisfying.
But every single breath counted right now.
The Transcendence Physical Examination Card only lasted a quarter of an hour.
Within that quarter hour, he had to sever the connection between the Emperor Corpse and Ji Wushang.
Otherwise, when the effect ended, he wouldn't be an emperor anymore.
He'd be a corpse.
And very likely a corpse that died in an undignified manner.
So he had to make Ji Wushang furious.
Anger clouded one's judgment.
Anger made one overextend control.
The more Ji Wushang rushed to kill him, the more he would expose his connection to the Emperor Corpse.
A glint of darkness flickered in Wang Hao's eyes.
Insult you?
I insult you so you can die without knowing why.
Ji Wushang finally moved.
He formed hand seals with both hands.
The dark patterns on his brow split open, and a single drop of ink-black blood oozed from his forehead.
The moment that drop appeared, the residual array patterns on the Nine Coffin Altar erupted into boiling chaos.
The vertical crack on the Emperor Corpse's brow opened a sliver as well.
Boom!
A wisp of darkness descended.
It wasn't light.
It was something that devoured light.
It fell from the Emperor Corpse's brow onto the altar, painting the entire platform in a coat of death.
The Great Xia crowd only glanced at it and felt their blood run cold.
Some martial artists immediately bled from all seven orifices.
The Demon Lord roared, "Heads down! Don't look!"
Everyone bowed their heads.
Even old monsters like Ghost Granny and Yin Jiuyou dared not gaze directly at that darkness.
That was Transcendence-level corruption.
Not something a martial artist could withstand through sheer realm.
But Wang Hao kept his head up.
Under his Transcendence bearing state, he could finally see the nature of that darkness.
It wasn't complete law.
It was fragmented death-traces, mixed with the corruption source of the Emperor's Fallen Stele.
Terrifying.
But also chaotic.
And chaos meant weaknesses.
Wang Hao suddenly smiled.
"Ji Wushang, you're panicking."
Ji Wushang said coldly, "This seat simply sees no need to listen to the nonsense of a dead man."
Wang Hao nodded.
"True."
"Then talk less."
Ji Wushang: "..."
The New Emperor Sword couldn't help it—it let out a snort.
Then it realized its mistake and immediately stiffened its weapon-spirit face.
"This seat did not laugh."
Wang Hao glanced at it.
"You'd better not have."
The New Emperor Sword immediately turned serious.
"Rest assured, Your Majesty. This seat is feeling very solemn right now."
Wang Hao ignored it.
Because the Emperor Corpse had already moved.

grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)

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?!

ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!

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.”