“Until we meet again…”

In the Eight Directions City, within the First Yama Hall, Lord Qin Guang slowly repeated these four words once, finally opening his eyes.

In that instant, countless streams of light flashed across the depths of his pupils.

For a moment, only the sound of mountain-roaring and sea-howling could be heard.

The consciousness he had expanded throughout the entire eighteenth level of hell now gathered back like dense clouds and tidal waters, filling his form once more.

The tall twelve-tasseled crown swayed with flowing light; the mysterious black ceremonial robes rolled with gold and red patterns, still incomparably noble; those pair of majestic eyes also seemed unchanged.

Only in his previously empty left hand had suddenly appeared an absurdly large ghost axe.

Gone was the magnificent might of the earlier red sun slash, it now lay quiet and deathly still in his grip, only the blood-red myriad ghost patterns still emanating residual ferocity…

She had escaped!

Clearly just a small Nascent Soul cultivator, after launching a surprise Heaven-Overturning Seal palm strike, had actually escaped from his hands completely unharmed!

What irony!

Immortal Wuzhong, ah, Immortal Wuzhong!

In this instant, Lord Qin Guang finally couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter, carrying a deeply hidden brutality and bloodthirst: “Merely helped her momentarily, allowing her to escape this one palm of mine. I’d like to see if she can escape the Primordial Chaos Current outside the Shitian Creation Array!”

Until we meet again?

Perhaps it would truly be never meeting again!

With a heavy “clang,” Lord Qin Guang, holding that cold smile, finally gently loosened his grip, letting the Ghost Axe crash to the ground…

This tournament was ruined.

Within the eighteenth level of hell, that terrifying palm shadow had already dispersed.

But the palm print on the ground, so vast it covered nearly half the hell, remained so shocking to the sight, silently testifying to the power of that earlier “palm from beyond the heavens.”

Countless cultivators who survived the tournament were all in a daze at this moment.

They couldn’t even react for a long time, not knowing what exactly they had encountered.

How had that Jian Chou, originally just their opponent, suddenly become “from Yashan sect,” even directly battling a Yama Lord and delivering such a terrifying palm strike?

Only a few “clever ones” vaguely understood what had happened.

Zhong Lanling stood holding his qin, his figure slowly appearing on the altar.

He gazed distantly at the horizon where Jian Chou’s trace had long vanished, thinking of the words “Yashan,” his heart filled with bewilderment.

Shanglu and Sima Languan had both narrowly escaped death.

Standing at the very edge of that palm print, both felt bitter in their hearts and complex in their expressions: they had come so close to being struck by that palm, reduced to ash and smoke, never to recover.

In just a moment, her strength had completely transformed!

Senior Sister Jian Chou…

Was the power of Yashan sect disciples truly so terrifying?

Both their gazes flickered uncertainly, their hearts unable to calm for a long time.

But at this moment on the altar, there happened to be two people who could barely be considered calm.

One was Zhang Tang.

With both hands tucked in his sleeves, on his bland and harsh face, almost no trace of emotional fluctuation could be found, as if the battle just now had nothing to do with him at all.

Although he had forged the life-and-death record for Jian Chou, brought her into the City of Wrongful Deaths, and had been fully aware of Jian Chou’s secrets and ultimate purpose from beginning to end, still…

He felt no guilt whatsoever.

Being an official.

There were always times when one acted against conscience.

What’s more for someone like him, such a cruel official?

Conscience was something Zhang Tang didn’t possess.

Moreover, he had acted flawlessly from beginning to end. At most, he’d go back and kill Big Head Ghost and Little Head Ghost to silence them, and nothing could be traced back to him.

After all, choosing Jian Chou for the tournament was Lord Qin Guang’s own decision.

So at this moment, Zhang Tang merely lowered his gaze, turning his sight back to fall on Lihan standing not far from him, finally voicing the suspicion he had carried all along: “Young Master Li, is there some old grudge between you and me that needs settling?”

Fu Chaosheng was still looking toward the outside of the Shitian Creation Array, at that turbulent current that blurred space and confused time…

The Primordial Chaos Current.

The flow of time within this current was different from the outside world. But no one knew whether what Jian Chou encountered would be fast or slow…

When would they meet again?

A trace of worry flashed through his heart, but the moment he heard Zhang Tang’s bland voice, it all quietly disappeared.

Fu Chaosheng looked back at Zhang Tang, seeing the unconcealed killing intent in the other’s eyes.

Heh.

Truly worthy of being Great Xia’s Court Justice Zhang—even after being beheaded and arriving in the Extreme Realm, he remained quite sharp.

He had actually begun to suspect him.

At this moment…

Since old friend Jian Chou had already left, then these few “companions” naturally were no longer companions. Mutual slaughter would be just perfect, wouldn’t it?

In his dark eyes, a faint demonic aura floated up. Fu Chaosheng lightly flicked his sleeve robes, only laughing: “It seems Master Zhang is determined to compete with Li for this tournament’s championship…”

In this instant, Zhang Tang’s cold, stern face finally couldn’t find half a trace of warmth!

“Swoosh!”

Thousands upon thousands of thin silver blades flashed from his sleeves, transforming into a crescent moon held in his grip, his body becoming flowing light, carrying fierce killing intent!

Toward Lihan, or rather—

Toward that former “Imperial Tutor Fu” who had bewitched the masses!

Conflict never ceased.

Above the eighteen levels of hell, there was forever endless bleakness and gloom.

On the land of the Nineteen Continents, it was exactly morning of a new day.

Dawn had not yet fully broken, with only a thin red of sunrise at the eastern horizon, but the firmament was still a dark blue, shrouding the mountains and rivers.

The deep blue sea glittered with rippling waves under the dim light.

Western Sea Plaza.

The hour was still early, with not many cultivators coming and going, only some people rushing through via teleportation arrays, walking swiftly across the plaza from one end to the other.

Jiang Yuan was just an ordinary disciple of Wangjiang Tower, having cultivated for over four years and now at Foundation Establishment middle stage.

His figure flashed as he emerged from a teleportation array at the plaza’s edge.

Anyone familiar with this section of teleportation arrays in Western Sea Plaza would recognize at a glance: this array connected to the Central Region’s Right Three Thousand, Mingri Xinghai.

Familiar scenery appeared before his eyes.

Except for that Wendao Tablet that had mysteriously changed to read “Morning Dao,” everything was still as he remembered.

In this instant, Jiang Yuan almost cried out loud.

No one knew what exactly he had encountered during this trip to Mingri Xinghai. But soon, news that the three elders of Wangjiang Tower had all been killed by the new Sword Emperor of Mingri Xinghai would spread throughout the entire Nineteen Continents…

Yes.

Not the Sword Emperor, but the new Sword Emperor.

Because the Sword Emperor was already dead.

He died right before Jiang Yuan’s eyes.

He had personally witnessed that man in brocade dark robes, a former disciple of Yashan, gently thrust forward the deep blue Sea Light Sword and end the life of that gray-robed elder…

From now on, Mingri Xinghai would only have the new Sword Emperor, Qu Zhengfeng!

“I’ll spare your life, go back and tell them—”

“From now on, Mingri Xinghai belongs to the Qu family.”

“Those who value their lives, don’t come disturb my game…”

That voice, unclear whether scholarly and gentle or cold and cruel, began echoing in Jiang Yuan’s ears again, making his heart tremble uncontrollably.

Uncontrollably, he moved to stand beneath the Fourth Heavenly Tablet erected in the plaza’s center.

The Fourth Heavenly Tablet, Nascent Soul.

Anyone who cultivated to this realm could already be called an “old monster”—firstly because of their long cultivation, many years, and generally advanced age; secondly because of their high cultivation and rarity.

At this moment, the first name on the Fourth Heavenly Tablet had long since changed.

—Zhao Zhuo.

Kunwu, senior disciple under Real Person Hengxu.

But Jiang Yuan’s gaze uncontrollably slid down, falling on the second name on the tablet—Qu Zhengfeng.

Almost all cultivators in the Nineteen Continents knew.

This tablet had once been the “absolute domain” of this Yashan senior or second disciple. How many Nascent Soul stage cultivators, even after advancing to Soul Separation, had never managed to push him down from the tablet.

Until last year’s small gathering, when he betrayed Yashan and broke through in one move…

Only then was the name on the tablet replaced by Kunwu’s “Zhao Zhuo.”

Calculating the time, it had only been about a year.

A year ago, after that small gathering ended, during that pursuit and trial in the hidden realm of Qingfeng Nunnery, only Baiyue Valley’s medicine woman Lu Xiangleng, Fengmo Sword Sect’s Xia Houshe, and Wuyi Sect’s Young Master Ruhua returned safely.

As for the sect-less Left Liu, Yashan’s Senior Sister Jian Chou, and Kunwu’s true disciple Xie Buchen…

They either had no news at all or were in mortal danger.

No one knew what accidents had occurred midway.

But some people claimed with certainty: because two prized disciples had met with misfortune, Yashan’s Fudao Shanren and Kunwu’s Real Person Hengxu, these two great powers, had nearly come to blows at the Western Sea Chan Sect.

Corresponding to these rumors, relations between the two great sects Yashan and Kunwu had plummeted to freezing point.

The situation in the Nineteen Continents suddenly became delicate.

Now, they would probably have to add another “new Sword Emperor of Mingri Xinghai,” Qu Zhengfeng…

At this moment, Jiang Yuan only felt undercurrents surging.

But at this moment, standing beneath the Nine Heavenly Tablets in this cold plaza, there was only him, and only he knew of the dramatic changes in Mingri Xinghai…

No one else could see the complex expression of worry and confusion on his face.

Sea wind blew over, and Jiang Yuan watched like this for a long time, until he felt not a trace of warmth left in his body, then remembered he needed to return to Wangjiang Tower to report the terrible news of the three elders’ deaths and pass on Qu Zhengfeng’s words.

So his cold, stiff body swayed, and he was about to turn around.

But just as he moved his feet, at the moment he was about to leave…

The Third Golden Core Heavenly Tablet and Fourth Nascent Soul Heavenly Tablet both suddenly, almost simultaneously, burst with dazzling white light, illuminating the entire plaza, the entire dark blue sky—

Bright as daylight!

“What is this?”

Jiang Yuan’s eyes were so dazzled by this brilliant light that he could barely open them. Only when the light dimmed slightly could he barely make out the changes on the tablets.

It was actually…

Two identical names!

In this instant, his feet seemed nailed to the spot, unable to take another step, his face showing an expression of extreme shock!

“How is this possible…”

…

A thunderbolt thus fell on such a quiet morning onto Western Sea Plaza, onto the Central Region’s Left Three Thousand, and even…

Onto the vast land of the Nineteen Continents.

Making the already surging undercurrents even more turbulent.

Only at this moment, not a single person knew where this shocking “instigator” was located, or when she would return.

Even the “instigator” herself didn’t know.

Jian Chou’s consciousness had already fallen into a dim haze.

Nine-headed Bird had said that Lord Qin Guang was the incarnation of the Extreme Realm’s “rules” gaining sentience, himself being the “rules.”

Even a casual palm strike from him—how could she resist it?

If not for advancing to Nascent Soul in one step this time, and having the “opportunity” Immortal Wuzhong left in the stone bead, no matter how great her ability to turn the tide against the wind, she would have long been reduced to ash.

During the palm exchange, though the “Heaven-Overturning Seal” was formidable enough to match Lord Qin Guang, the gap between Jian Chou herself and Lord Qin Guang was too great.

Lord Qin Guang could remain unharmed under this palm strike, but Jian Chou could not.

The residual force when the two palms collided almost instantly affected her, carrying her body toward the outside of the Shitian Creation Array, toward that blurred turbulent current, toward that gray-black chaos, toward that endless dark void…

It was an extremely difficult feeling to describe.

Like accidentally falling into a great river, carried along by the current, sometimes smooth and peaceful, sometimes chaotic and turbulent.

All around was darkness.

Jian Chou closed her eyes, unable to open them, her consciousness seeming to rise and fall with the tides, only feeling as if she were drifting among the vast stars, using that limited life to float in the infinite universe…

Not knowing where to return.

Completely unable to control her own direction, not knowing where she would go;

Completely unable to sense the passage of time, not knowing if it was a finger snap or millions of years.

She only knew that after perhaps brief or perhaps “long” drifting, in a world silent without the slightest movement, suddenly came the sound of roaring clouds and rolling muffled thunder…

A trace of faint light penetrated through her slightly closed eyelids.

*End of this volume.

Originally didn’t plan to break here, but Saturday had gaming, Sunday had family emergency, delayed a bit, didn’t finish the second half of the chapter. After revising and editing, thought breaking here as the volume ending was just right.

Next chapter is a new volume, old friends.

—【Mingri Xinghai】