I, Your Majesty, Can Still Step into Level Ten

The human-shaped outlines on the talisman paper twisted violently, transforming into a chorus of silently screaming faces.

The very next instant, the rules of the Ten Thousand Abyss were torn apart as if by an invisible hand.

Ji Wushang's massive jaws had already clamped down.

But what he bit into was empty air.

The remaining head and half of the Emperor Corpse's mutilated torso vanished before his lips.

Even the trace of Imperial Will that was about to be dragged into the Wicked Eye was forcibly yanked out of the devouring causality by the death-replacement talisman.

"No—!"

Ji Wushang's expression changed drastically.

The crystal core in his chest and the black core on his forehead vibrated simultaneously.

The Wicked Eye contracted violently.

At the instant the Imperial Will was torn away, like a final war lance left behind by a dying emperor, it slammed hard into the rule node where the Wicked Eye was taking form.

Boom!

Ji Wushang's body shuddered violently.

Several bone spikes on his back shattered on the spot.

Massive cracks split open across the swirl of sinister artifacts around him.

A few damaged wicked artifacts, unable to withstand the backlash, burst into black powder on the spot.

Ji Wushang spat out a mouthful of black blood.

When that black blood fell, it corroded gaping, grotesque holes into the void itself.

The people of Great Xia watched, their hearts shaken to the core.

Han Shanyue's eyes bulged wide.

"His Majesty... actually snatched the Emperor Corpse back?"

Yin Jiuyou murmured, "Grabbing food right out of Ji Wushang's mouth?"

Xue Wuhen's voice was hoarse.

"This isn't just grabbing food anymore."

"This is snapping the man's chopsticks in half."

The Demon Lord took a deep breath.

Of course.

He knew it.

Once Wang Hao, that tyrant, started settling scores, he would never just be all talk.

The void twisted.

Grayish-white light condensed before Wang Hao.

The remaining head and half-torso of the Emperor Corpse materialized out of thin air.

It was a wreck.

Imperial robes shredded.

Bones snapped.

Its death essence had been almost completely devoured.

Yet even so, the moment it appeared, an ancient imperial might radiated outward.

The surrounding void sank slightly, as if it couldn't bear the weight of this mutilated corpse.

Wang Hao raised his hand and grabbed the Emperor Corpse by the neck.

He hoisted it up bodily.

The Emperor Corpse's pitch-black eyes turned to Wang Hao.

And in them, a faint trace of gratitude flickered.

Very faint.

So faint it was almost invisible.

But it was there.

Perhaps, for an Emperor Corpse, being devoured by a cheap sword was still better than being refined into a piece of a Tenth-Grade Abomination by Ji Wushang.

At least the former was just being eaten.

The latter was desecration.

Wang Hao didn't even bother looking.

"Don't thank me."

"I'm not saving you."

"I'm robbing you."

With that, he swung his arm.

The Emperor Corpse's remains flew through the air like a neatly packaged cut of meat, straight toward the New Emperor Sword.

The New Emperor Sword instantly went insane.

Black light surged along its blade.

The artifact spirit's phantom clung to the sword, eyes gleaming, mouth splitting open to an absurdly wide grin.

It let out a howl of pure, ravenous hunger.

"FOOD—!"

Wang Hao spat out a single cold word.

"Swallow."

"SWALLOW!"

The moment the word left Wang Hao's mouth, the New Emperor Sword completely lost its composure.

No more pretending to be a noble wicked artifact.

No more playing the role of an imperial blade.

Black patterns ran rampant across the sword's body.

The long, sharp blade split open down the middle, revealing a bottomless black crevice.

The crevice yawned wider and wider, like a monstrous mouth growing out of the sword.

The artifact spirit's phantom went even further.

It dropped to all fours, like a starving black dog that hadn't eaten in eight hundred years, and pounced at the flying remains of the Emperor Corpse.

"GULP!"

One bite.

Just one bite.

The remaining head and half-torso of the Emperor Corpse were swallowed whole by the New Emperor Sword.

No chewing.

No hesitation.

It even had a hurried desperation, as if afraid someone might snatch it away.

The people of Great Xia stared, utterly dumbfounded.

Han Shanyue's mouth opened and closed.

"The... the sword eats corpses?"

Yin Jiuyou blurted out, "Kinda like a dog, isn't it?"

Xue Wuhen paused for a moment.

"Gotta say."

"It really is."

The Demon Lord's eye twitched hard.

In all his years, he had seen demonic weapons devour their masters, wicked artifacts murder people, and evil spirits consume souls.

But a sword opening its mouth wide like a puppy to eat an Emperor Corpse? That was a first for him.

Eye-opening.

Ghost Granny murmured, "That's the remains of an Emperor Corpse..."

Yin Jiuyou nodded.

"Yeah."

"And it was just snatched out of someone else's mouth."

Everyone: "..."

Why does that sound so disgusting?

The moment the New Emperor Sword swallowed the Emperor Corpse, the blade froze stiff.

The next second...

It bloated.

That's right. A sword. Bloated.

The middle of the blade swelled up as if a mountain had been jammed inside, bulging out into a round, fat belly.

Black light, grayish-white deathly aura, imperial might, and devouring singularity power collided violently inside its body.

The artifact spirit's phantom swelled along with it.

Its belly was so large it looked nine months pregnant.

It clutched its stomach with both hands, writhing in agony on the ground.

"AAAAAAH!"

"Master!"

"Little Sword is gonna burst!"

"The Emperor Corpse is too tough!"

"Stuck in the teeth!"

"Stuck in the belly!"

"Little Sword feels like it's gonna explode!"

Wang Hao stared at it, expressionless.

"You fought for that meal yourself. Now sit there and finish it."

The New Emperor Sword rolled about in grief and fury.

"Master!"

"You don't love Little Sword anymore!"

Wang Hao sneered.

"When did I ever love you?"

The New Emperor Sword froze.

Then it wailed even harder.

"That hurts even more!"

It kept screaming and rolling, slamming its blade into the ruined altar floor.

Each smash sent a puff of grayish-white death essence bursting from the cracks of the blade, only for the sword to force it back inside.

Devouring evolution power churned at full throttle.

The Emperor Corpse's remains were too powerful.

Even if only a quarter was left, even if Ji Wushang had already gnawed it to tatters, it was still the corpse of a former emperor.

This wasn't an ordinary abomination.

Nor was it a common wicked artifact.

This was death essence left behind by an existence that had touched transcendence.

The New Emperor Sword wanted to devour it.

And indeed, it could.

But being able to digest it didn't mean it wouldn't choke.

A snake can swallow an elephant— but after that, it has to lie down and digest.

Right now, the New Emperor Sword was that snake.

The snarky version.

As it rolled, it still found time to curse Ji Wushang.

"Ji-dog!"

"See that?"

"I ate it!"

"You can't out-steal me!"

"You got the bigger portion, but I got the good stuff!"

"Old man Emperor's last bite belongs to ME!"

"I win!"

Wang Hao couldn't help but kick it on the hilt.

"Shut up and digest."

The New Emperor Sword spun three times from the kick, then kept clutching its belly and wailing.

"Master, you kicked Little Sword in the stomach!"

Wang Hao frowned.

"Since when does a sword have a stomach?"

The New Emperor Sword said with complete conviction.

"Just grew one!"

Wang Hao: "..."

Absurd.

But there was no time to deal with this cheap sword's nonsense now.

Because Ji Wushang had reached full-blown fury.

"WANG HAO—!"

That shout tore through the abyss.

The whirlpool of wicked qi exploded outward.

Ji Wushang stood at the center of the churning black tide, the crystal core in his chest throbbing wildly, the black core on his forehead blazing with an extreme dark light.

Black blood dripped endlessly from his split-open maw.

Each drop turned into a twisted little phantom that shrieked and crawled into the void.

His Wicked Eye had not fully opened.

Because the last lingering thought of the Emperor Corpse had been torn away by Wang Hao using the death-replacement talisman, and before it left, it had slammed into the Eye one final time.

That impact had cracked his fusion.

Not fatal.

But absolutely disgusting.

Like a broth simmered for a hundred years, only to be spat into at the last second.

Ji Wushang burned with hatred nearly to the point of madness.

“How dare you steal this one's Emperor Corpse!”

Wang Hao raised an eyebrow.

“Say that again.”

“Is it yours?”

“Does the Emperor Corpse have your name on it?”

Ji Wushang roared: “This one arranged for ten thousand years, schemed for ten thousand years!”

Wang Hao said flatly: “So what?”

“Does scheming for ten thousand years mean you don't have to pay wages?”

“The Emperor Corpse fought for you this long. Taking the last remnant as payment—what's wrong with that?”

The New Emperor Sword lay on the ground, struggling to raise its artifact-spirit little hand.

“Nothing wrong!”

“Labor is glorious!”

“Withholding wages is shameful!”

The people of Great Xia weren't sure whether to chime in.

The logic seemed sound.

But applied to an Emperor Corpse and an insatiable tier-ten aberration, it sounded very odd.

Ji Wushang shook with fury, his bone spikes trembling.

“Wang Hao!”

“This one will tear you limb from limb!”

Wang Hao smiled.

“What's the hurry?”

“Aren't you trying to evolve into a tier-ten aberration?”

“Go on.”

“I'm watching.”

At those words, Ji Wushang calmed for a moment.

He stared hard at Wang Hao.

In those eyes no longer human, endless venom surfaced.

“You think stealing the last part of the Emperor Corpse can stop this one?”

Wang Hao narrowed his eyes.

Ji Wushang grinned, revealing rings of black serrated teeth.

“Too bad.”

“This one has already devoured enough of the Emperor Corpse's origin.”

“Even missing the last piece.”

“Even if the integration isn't perfect.”

“This one can still step into tier ten!”

He slowly spread his arms.

Tens of cursed artifacts behind him shrieked at once.

Those artifacts no longer maintained the vortex—they began to merge into Ji Wushang's body.

The bronze broken ring embedded itself into his skull, becoming a corroding halo of decay.

The blood-stained bone lantern bored into his chest, becoming a cursed heart burning with pale flames.

The tattered banner covered in eyes tore into countless black strips, draping across his back like an emperor's robe, yet also like a burial shroud.

The length of black iron chain coiled around his spine, turning into exposed bone links.

The small blood-seeping coffin he swallowed in one gulp.

Thud!

A dull sound like a coffin hitting the floor echoed from his abdomen.

A more terrifying, more unspeakable aura erupted from within him.

Rumble!

The entire Abyss of Ten Thousand Graves began to sink.

Not the ground collapsing.

But the rules themselves sinking.

Space became viscous.

Time became sluggish.

Light stretched into black threads.

Countless whispers flooded everyone's ears.

Those whispers sounded like the dead speaking in dreams, or like countless aberrations lying close and giggling softly.

“Come...”

“Kneel...”

“Become part of the aberration domain...”

The faces of the Great Xia people turned pale.

Some of the weaker cultivators bled from all seven orifices and nearly fell to their knees on the spot.

Han Shanyue let out a furious roar, turning his vital energy into a mountain to forcefully block the erosion of those whispers.

Xue Wuhen's eyes burned scarlet, his blood aura blazing as he shielded everyone's minds.

Yin Jiuyou's face turned green.

“And this is before he's even made a move?”

Ghost Granny's voice trembled.

“A tier-ten aberration...”

“Even the weakest tier-ten aberration is still tier ten!”

“It's no longer merely a powerful being.”

“It can corrupt rules.”

“It can rewrite the battlefield.”

“Even ordinary Transcendence realm cultivators may not be able to face it head-on!”

The Demon Lord was silent.

His expression was heavier than it had ever been.

Tier ten.

That was a calamity on the same level as a Transcendent Emperor.

In some ways, even harder to kill than an Emperor.

An Emperor has a Dao.

An aberration has no reason.

An Emperor can be slain.

But an aberration might endlessly revive within its aberration domain.

Moreover, Ji Wushang was no ordinary aberration.

He used the Emperor Corpse as his foundation.

The contaminated origin of the Emperor Fallen Stele as his source.

The Nine Coffin Altar as his furnace.

Tens of cursed artifacts as his bones.

Even with Wang Hao seizing the final quarter of the Emperor Corpse, he had still stepped into that realm.

Only weaker.

Only incomplete.

Only missing a piece.

But it was still tier ten.

Like a flawed black sun, it could still burn ten thousand miles of mountains and rivers to ash.