“The Thousand Blades Sect is gone.”

When Bai Yuxiao entered with a strange expression on his face, Liu Shuang was writing a letter to Shao You. Hearing his words, she thought she had misheard: “What?”

Bai Yuxiao said glumly, “You heard correctly. While Feng Fuming was attacking Ji Shao You, someone annihilated the entire Thousand Blades Sect. The head of that old sect leader is still hanging at their gates.”

It’s no wonder Liu Shuang reacted so strongly to this news. Even Bai Yuxiao found it absurd when he first heard it. The Thousand Blades Sect had risen the fastest among immortal sects in the past three years, simply because they were such good lapdogs. Whenever Feng Fuming gave an order, their sect rushed to the front lines, killing more demons than anyone else.

With the Feng clan backing them, they had been thriving these past few years. Recently, when their disciples had a confrontation with disciples from the Kung Sang Immortal Realm, the matter was surprisingly dropped, leaving the Thousand Blades Sect barely concealing their smugness.

It’s worth noting that long ago, people from their sect weren’t even worthy of shining the shoes of those from the Kung Sang Immortal Realm.

Unexpectedly, this prominent immortal sect was wiped out during the night, before dawn broke.

“All dead?” There were over three hundred people in total.

“Not quite,” Bai Yuxiao said. “I heard a three-year-old child survived, hidden in a water vat. When found, their killer left just one message—for Feng Fuming to come find him.”

Beyond the shock and astonishment this news brought to Liu Shuang, she had a bold speculation. She glanced at the Soul-Anchoring Lamp beside her, with complex emotions, and asked nervously: “Who destroyed the Thousand Blades Sect?”

“Unknown. A three-year-old child, traumatized at that, spoke incoherently.”

“I see.” Liu Shuang felt somewhat disappointed, but the hope kindled in her heart didn’t easily extinguish. She tried to avoid thinking that this person could be Yan Chaosheng. After three years without any trace, how could he appear now, immediately wiping out an entire immortal sect?

If he were still alive… his greatest hatred would surely be for Kung Sang. After all, she had “killed” him.

If the Demon Lord were reborn with his former powers, leveling Kung Sang would be effortless. Liu Shuang forced herself to remain calm. The greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.

Bai Yuxiao gloated: “With Feng Fuming’s immortal soldiers at the front lines dealing with Ji Shao You, his home base is on fire. He must be furious.”

Indeed, although the Thousand Blades Sect’s annihilation was tragic, that sect had been universally despised. Their demise was good news for the already overburdened Shao You.

Liu Shuang dampened his enthusiasm: “Feng Fuming won’t be angry. Never mind a distant sect like the Thousand Blades, even if half the Eight Wildernesses died, Feng Fuming wouldn’t care. He won’t be distracted from his goals. At most, this will make him cautious. Even if both his arms were broken, we still couldn’t defeat him alone.”

Bai Yuxiao glared at her: “Can’t you ever say something pleasant!”

She couldn’t help but smile.

The reason Shao You could still hold out was that in the past few years, he had finally learned to wield the Shennong Cauldron. With the cauldron deployed, even Feng Fuming would be wary of a direct assault.

Liu Shuang thought Feng Fuming was clever to attack Kun Lun first. Had he attacked Kung Sang first, given Shao You’s character, he would certainly have extended aid.

But by attacking Kun Lun first, Chi Shui Chong would remain a cold observer, hesitant to act.

Liu Shuang finished writing her letter, transforming it into a beam of light sent toward Kun Lun. The letter stated that in three days, she would lead immortal soldiers to aid Kun Lun.

Bai Yuxiao couldn’t help asking: “Are you so confident the Realm Lord will agree to dispatch troops?”

“I don’t need Father’s permission,” Liu Shuang said. “With Kung Sang facing destruction, what’s the point of clinging to the last bit of authority? If we don’t unite against Feng Fuming, he will likely sweep through the Eight Wildernesses.”

Her eyes were calm yet revealed a disconcerting composure: “I will be the future Realm Lord of Kung Sang.”

Bai Yuxiao’s eyes flickered.

Liu Shuang ignored him and picked up the Soul-Anchoring Lamp. Wind had risen in the courtyard at some point. Three years had passed, and she could no longer sustain it.

Bai Yuxiao watched her carefully, fearing she might hesitate or be unwilling to extinguish the lamp for that person.

She murmured, “The ancient tales speak of the Soul-Anchoring Lamp as if it were miraculous, but it’s the most useless thing. The demon god couldn’t use it to resurrect his wife. In tens of thousands of years, it hasn’t revived a single person.”

Bai Yuxiao: “…”

Liu Shuang watched the soul fire dancing inside the lamp. This faint light had repeatedly made her feel that Yan Chaosheng could come back to life, but this self-deception couldn’t continue.

Liu Shuang’s fingers caressed the lamp, her ice-blue immortal power like frost gradually extinguishing the weak soul fire inside.

Seeing her sitting absent-mindedly by the window, Bai Yuxiao recalled her carefree demeanor in her youth. He felt somewhat melancholic: “Let’s go. Weren’t you planning to help Ji Shao You? I’ll go with you.”

He thought that if his brother were still alive, he would surely accompany her to fight for Kung Sang. His brother was gone, but he remained.

Liu Shuang put down the Soul-Anchoring Lamp. For three years, she had never been separated from it. Now that she had let it go, her heart felt empty and unaccustomed. She pressed her lips together, but by the time she left the palace, she had regained her light smile. Everyone outside bowed respectfully.

When Chi Shui Chong learned she planned to lead people to Kun Lun, his face darkened with anger. Looking at his daughter dressed in snow-white armor, he raged: “Liu Shuang of the Chi Shui clan, do you still recognize me as your father, your Realm Lord? Bai Yuxiao, are you joining her in this madness?”

Liu Shuang sat on her immortal bird: “Realm Lord, if Kun Lun falls, Kung Sang will be next. When the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. You shouldn’t remain so stubborn.”

“I know what needs to be done without your lecturing,” Chi Shui Chong coldly stared at her. “Dare to mobilize troops today and see what happens!”

Liu Shuang did dare. Mortals needed a military tally to command troops, but the immortal realm didn’t follow such systems. They relied on their unique bloodlines. As long as she remained a descendant of the Chi Shui clan, her words carried indisputable power.

“You plan to let them fight each other while you reap the benefits, but you haven’t considered that when the nest is overturned, no egg remains intact. What the previous Heavenly Lord couldn’t accomplish in ten thousand years—unifying the immortal realm and exterminating the demon race—Feng Fuming has achieved in just a few years. Do you think he doesn’t know your intentions? He’s waiting for you to stand aside. He’s no fool.” Liu Shuang paused. Under Chi Shui Chong’s angry gaze, she continued, “Feng Fuming dares to act this way for only one reason: in the Eight Wildernesses, he no longer has any equals. You, Shao You, all of us—I fear even united we cannot restrain him.”

Chi Shui Chong’s eyes trembled, yet he still refused to believe.

Each of Liu Shuang’s words seemed to strike his heart. Although rumors suggested Feng Fuming’s cultivation had suddenly reached terrifying heights in recent years, in Chi Shui Chong’s view, that youngster was merely a junior. With tens of thousands of years more cultivation than he, how could he possibly be unable to handle Feng Fuming?

“Silence!”

No matter what, he wouldn’t allow Liu Shuang to lead a massive contingent of immortal soldiers away. As long as he proved he was still the supreme Realm Lord of Kung Sang, he could keep them.

Chi Shui Chong leaped into the air, forming a seal and sending it toward Liu Shuang. He never intended to harm his child, only to make her retreat.

Bai Yuxiao hadn’t expected the Realm Lord to act this way and shouted: “Liu Shuang!”

Liu Shuang’s gaze neither dodged nor avoided—or rather, this was precisely the opportunity she had been waiting for. She raised her hand to meet Chi Shui Chong’s seal. Two colors collided in the air, dazzling gold and ice-blue feathered light exploding simultaneously.

The disciples of Kung Sang watched this scene in horror.

As the light dispersed, the Realm Lord fell from the sky, clutching his chest, looking at Liu Shuang in shock, while the immortal maiden on the celestial bird remained unharmed.

She gazed at her father with complex emotions before finally ordering: “Depart.”

In the immortal realm, the immortal energy drifted hazily. After they had gone far, Lady Zi, in her trailing purple gown, came to support her husband.

Chi Shui Chong looked exhausted, his face seemingly aged by ten years, staring at his own palm in disbelief.

How could this happen? In just three short years, why couldn’t he even defeat his daughter? This child had been born with an incomplete soul.

This realization made his heart churn with distress.

Lady Zi covered her mouth, tears welling up: “My lord, please stop. Our daughter has grown up. Let her do what’s right, isn’t that for the best?”

Chi Shui Chong’s expression was dazed, momentarily ferocious: “No, it shouldn’t be like this.”

Lady Zi smiled through tears, her emotions more complex than anyone’s—pride in her daughter’s growth, yet heartache for her husband’s decline.

“Have you forgotten, my lord, the ancient prophecy left by the Phoenix Goddess: ‘When the heavenly way loses balance, one destined to bear this mission shall be born.'”

Eighty thousand years later, Feng Fuming was born amid auspicious signs and dragon cries. Ji Shao You could condense spirit springs. Ji Xianghan acted mysteriously, her abilities unknown to all, yet she was among the earliest to lead independently, standing as an equal to the previous Realm Lord, with seven apertures in her heart.

Only their daughter was born ordinary, her cries weak, her soul incomplete, without any auspicious signs.

But no matter how weak or small, she had finally grown up amid the stormy winds.

None of the previous Realm Lords had admitted their mediocrity. The Heavenly Lord was cowardly. The Ji clan’s Realm Lord couldn’t even cross to the heavenly realm. Chi Shui Chong had once achieved nothing noteworthy, with only his benevolence worthy of praise. As for Ji, she couldn’t even manage her household affairs.

Their mediocrity couldn’t prevent the rise of this generation of children.

Lady Zi saw clearly—they were born truly Heaven’s favored ones, beloved by the heavenly way. Even the arrogant and vicious Feng Fuming, who dared not praise him as a heaven-sent talent?

In these increasingly decaying Eight Wildernesses, the heavenly way called upon them to revitalize the realm.

Without destruction, there can be no construction. What kind of era would that be?

Perhaps it would be like the era after the demon god’s destruction and the sacrifice of the Shared Sorrow Way, when all things flourished and prosperity lasted for many years.

Chi Shui Chong’s shoulders suddenly slumped as he gazed vacantly at the empty immortal realm.

Somehow, he had also strayed from his path, forgetting his original intentions. He finally had to recognize a reality—he couldn’t even defeat Liu Shuang, let alone the now terrifyingly powerful Feng Fuming.

A chill ran through his body. If… these children couldn’t stop Feng Fuming, was Kung Sang destined to fall?

“The Thousand Blades Sect is gone?”

Feng Fuming narrowed his eyes. Smiling, he held the severed head of the Thousand Blades Sect leader in his palm. Below, the immortal lords kept their eyes down, none daring to speak.

Even in anger, this man’s face always carried a smile.

No one could discern what it meant that the Thousand Blades Sect had been annihilated and a small child sent with a message.

Feng Fuming put down his head and beckoned: “Come here.”

The timid little girl below was the three-year-old orphan from the Thousand Blades Sect. No one dared help her, so she walked over, on the verge of tears. Feng Fuming picked her up, smiling as he pointed to the head: “Do you recognize him?”

The girl nodded: “Grandfather.”

Being too young to understand, she instinctively felt uneasy, trembling in Feng Fuming’s arms.

Feng Fuming rested his chin on her head, pinching her face: “Think carefully. Remember who killed him. Have you remembered?”

He didn’t care that the Thousand Blades Sect was gone, but since someone could destroy an entire sect overnight, Feng Fuming couldn’t help but be wary. He needed to know who this person was to respond appropriately! This was his best opportunity to unify the Eight Wildernesses, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to disrupt it.

The little girl broke down in tears, finally saying: “A brother… a very tall brother dressed all in black.”

Feng Fuming raised his eyebrows, smiling: “Good child!”

The soul-searching technique forcibly entered the child’s mind, extracting her memories. Gradually, the smile in Feng Fuming’s eyes faded, replaced by darkness.

He slammed his fist onto the armrest.

“It’s him!”

Those silver eyes—he could never forget them in this lifetime. Tantamount to the nightmare of all Feng clan descendants, the Xiangyou royal clan truly was like a centipede that dies but doesn’t stiffen. It was destined that either he would die or that person would perish.

“So he can return.”