Luo Yue met Chu Xingchen's gaze but detected no trace of abnormality... At the very least, Chu Xingchen appeared far more composed than Xie Lingyu, who stood beside him with an odd expression.
Taking a deep breath, Luo Yue felt a faint clarity return to its previously muddled consciousness. Too much time spent in confusion had blurred its memories, leaving only the most crucial events intact—making it seem somewhat foolish in hindsight.
Upon reflection... it wasn’t impossible for all eighteen primary spiritual veins to have been seized.
For millennia, they had remained untouched simply because no one dared to defy the world’s judgment.
But once the first step was taken... hesitation vanished.
Humans loved gambling with small stakes for massive gains. Even if the odds were slim, the allure of immense profit drove them to act recklessly.
And wasn’t it the same for itself?
Back then, hadn’t the Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect’s plan seemed like a long shot? Yet it had staked everything on that sliver of hope, only to end up in this wretched state.
The Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect had succeeded—only to discard the promises it had made.
Humans... were untrustworthy. Back then, it had been blinded by a distant, illusory dream, losing all sense of caution.
Indeed, since ancient times, anything worth having had to be taken by one’s own hand—never by relying on others.
Noticing Luo Yue lost in thought, Chu Xingchen quickly assessed the situation. He squeezed Xie Lingyu’s hand, silently signaling her to prepare for battle.
Anyone who had participated in the Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect’s rebellion back then couldn’t possibly be an easy mark.
Moreover, it was clear that Luo Yue’s demands were tied to the eighteen spiritual veins of the Central Continent—conditions far beyond what Chu Xingchen could fulfill now.
After all, equivalence mattered in all things. Trading small for big either required risking one’s life or was outright deception.
Everything had a price. Everything demanded sacrifice.
What went unnoticed now would inevitably be repaid in full later.
Negotiations were impossible, yet his own objective couldn’t be abandoned.
If talks broke down, violence was almost certain.
Luo Yue’s gaze refocused, its face softening into a gentle smile:
"Since we’ve reached this point... why don’t you first tell me your purpose for coming here?"
"If I said I was here for archaeology..." Chu Xingchen began, but seeing Luo Yue’s amused expression, he swiftly changed tack.
"You wouldn’t believe that anyway, so let’s be frank—I stumbled upon this secret realm and came out of curiosity, hoping to scavenge something useful. Since I’ve disturbed you, how about I just leave?"
The situation wasn’t ideal. Fighting while protecting Xie Lingyu was risky. Though Luo Yue’s aura fluctuated wildly and felt feeble—almost like a reanimated Mahayana corpse—it was better to err on the side of caution. He’d retreat and let Senior Bai deal with it later.
Luo Yue nodded amiably. "Of course, I’ll see you out. But feel free to report this place to your sect. The things here are of no use to me, and the terms of trade are negotiable..."
As it spoke, it raised a hand and pointed toward Chu Xingchen and Xie Lingyu.
Pure white spiritual energy coiled around the two.
Intricate ritual patterns materialized beneath their feet.
Luo Yue’s expression remained earnest, as if still hopeful for a future deal.
Chu Xingchen mirrored the smile, feigning interest in the proposal.
Luo Yue’s grin widened, as though graciously forgiving their grave-robbing trespass.
But in the next instant—
A barrage of embroidery needles, forged from ten thousand techniques, shot forth, aimed straight at Luo Yue’s seemingly unguarded form.
Clang!
Luo Yue blocked the assault with an outstretched palm, its white spiritual energy clashing fiercely against the incoming needles.
Two overwhelming forces tangled in a deadly dance, their residual shockwaves reducing the small hut to rubble in seconds.
Luo Yue’s brows furrowed in anger. "What is the meaning of this? I offer you mercy, yet you spit on it?!"
"Mercy?" Chu Xingchen sneered. "Do you take me for a fool? The ritual beneath me—is it teleportation or soul-binding? Layers of illusion swirl around us. Did you think I wouldn’t notice just because I don’t specialize in illusions?"
Luo Yue’s fury vanished instantly, replaced by eerie calm.
Humans truly were hard to deceive.
Then again, a race skilled in deception would naturally devote even greater effort to avoiding being fooled.
Luo Yue stepped forward, fist replacing its open palm as spiritual energy surged through its body.
A single punch lashed out, its crushing pressure near-tangible, sending the needle barrage flying.
Its current strength was but a fraction—no, a thousandth—of what it once was.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even truly alive anymore.
But that didn’t mean this former Mahayana cultivator would cower before a mere Nascent Soul cultivator.
It just required... slightly more effort.
Right now... it needed a vessel. It still had unfinished business.
Luo Yue’s eyes narrowed as it advanced.
Chu Xingchen summoned back the needles, now reshaped into a long saber. In the next breath, bloody energy erupted from his body, devouring everything in its path.
Nearby, even the leaves of distant trees withered instantly.
Against illusions, the cultivation methods and techniques of Li Xingtian held particular advantage.
Blood energy, like Li Xingtian himself, remained unswayed by external temptations.
Li Xingtian did not indulge in carnal desires.
Blood energy did not lust after dazzling spiritual energy.
Through it, Chu Xingchen could keenly perceive his surroundings.
But Luo Yue clearly wasn’t limited to illusions—that punch had been formidable.
The saber, now sheathed in bloodlust, thirsted like a beast for carnage.
Chu Xingchen raised the blade.
Torrents of sanguine power erupted from its edge, darkening the sky itself.
The surrounding blood energy raged like a tide, transforming the world into a hellscape of pure slaughter, its murderous intent staining heaven and earth crimson.
Clad in armor of swirling blood, Chu Xingchen’s pupils burned scarlet. His habitual gentle smile, amplified by the blood energy, twisted into the grin of a bloodthirsty killer reveling in disdain for life.
Heaven-Treading Great Method—Boundless Sea of Blood!
If Li Xingtian were here to witness his Nascent Soul successor’s even more gruesome display... he might have frozen in shock.
"A demonic cultivator?!" Luo Yue’s eyes narrowed at the overwhelming purity of the blood energy.
Such refined malevolence!
Was this brat lying to deceive it...
Or had orthodox sects now begun recruiting demonic practitioners?
Just what was happening in the outside world?
If even humans couldn’t coexist peacefully, how were its kind supposed to survive?
The blood energy churned, forming a crimson ocean of annihilation that crashed toward Luo Yue—a mere speck against its vastness.
"Fist of Revelation!"
Luo Yue’s cold shout accompanied a single devastating punch.
The fist’s momentum condensed spiritual energy into a crushing force.
As it descended, radiant white energy clashed head-on with the blood sea, refusing to yield.
Chu Xingchen tensed under the pressure of such refined skill.
At this point, holding Xie Lingyu’s hand was no longer an option.
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
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.”
