Chapter 87: The Collapse of the Mortal Body

After Yun Xi sank her teeth into the orb of light that had tried to seize her body, she realized that it neither retaliated nor moved, remaining suspended in the center of her consciousness. Without pausing to consider why, she launched herself at it, biting ferociously. She devoured the orb in a frenzy, well aware of the principle: strike while the enemy is weak. If she hesitated, the roles would be reversed, and she would be the one consumed.

“Please, let me go. I swear I won’t try to possess you again...” The plea fell on deaf ears; Yun Xi continued to savage the orb.

Yet, thinking of Song Chunyu’s current strength, likely rivaling the sixth realm of martial arts, it was only natural for her to thrive within the Golden Light Sect.

Yin Shixiu avoided alarming anyone, instead asking Wu Ye to subtly inquire about the other team members and their circumstances during the mission.

Suddenly, a voice echoed within the spatial domain, belonging to an elder surnamed Jiang, causing Zhu Tianhuo, whose face had been graced with a smile, to pause. He drew a deep breath and, under the watchful eyes of all present, stepped forward, merging into the source energy space and vanishing from sight.

The Grand Elder’s expression shifted. He knew only a little about the origin of the Blood Chaos Cliff, far less than the likes of Emperor Yan, guardian of the City of Chaos.

Crawling, scheming, advancing step by step, grasping for power and profit—yet in the end, it all amounted to nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, the sky was studded with stars, the air much cooler than during the day, a welcome change.

Three attacks struck the massive body of the White Spirit Pattern Tiger almost simultaneously, prompting it to cry out in pain. Even at the peak of imperial power, it could not withstand the combined assault of these three.

“Ah!” Wang Mazi sighed, his face betraying disappointment, and he said no more.

Wu Rong spoke as he rose, his tall and upright figure slightly taller than Yin Shiqing.

He rolled his eyes, shook his head, waved his hand, and pointed to his ear, indicating he could not hear.

“What was that thing just now? Even a true master could not subdue it?” Yun Chu and the others were curious. Though the black dragon’s shadow was but an apparition, its terrifying power had left them all wary.

“Cilang? Why are you here? Don’t you have class?” Qian Nai squinted, but still wanted to ask Cilang what had happened to bring him here so suddenly.

Suddenly, Feng Yin felt a weight on his shoulder, and startled, he saw Qin Yibai smiling as he patted him, then turned and walked toward Bali.

“My surname is Qiao; just call me Doctor Qiao,” Dong Ling replied casually, then carefully took the pulse.

“Of course, because I’ve always belonged to Prince Qian. Such an obvious matter, and you still have to ask?” Su Bi rewarded him with a look that said, “How could you be so foolish?”

Though spoken with a hint of jest, it was nevertheless true. His casual kindness paled in comparison to Qin Yibai’s generosity in offering spiritual tea today. Even with Wan Daihong’s current status and power, such a treasure was impossible to find.

The power of the Twelve Celestial Array was formidable but merely served to confine. The five joined forces, tore open a breach, and instantly crossed through the formation to reach the Dan Hall.

Then, with a wave and a shout to the Blackwood King—“I’m off!”—he dashed toward the edge of the forest.

Qian Nai was lost in thought, recalling when she had ever confided in him about not knowing her own dreams.

An Xiaoxiao had no idea how long she had slept; all she knew was that when she awoke, Gu Chen was still driving.

The five felt the energy in Fang Bai’s fist, like beasts discovering a feast, their fighting spirit soaring.

“There was one time when I didn’t use protection while handling a matter. Thinking back now, I feel a bit of dread,” Xiang Yu said seriously.

Seeing our elven comrade escape the trap, Niu Baiwan quickly used War Stomp—a tactic well-practiced by this hulking figure, infamous among his people for retreating. Seizing the moment when the troublesome beast couldn’t pursue at full speed, we also retreated, making our way to the northeast edge of the clearing.

After all, the mercenary bands she had encountered were mostly from nearby cities. The most mysterious belonged to Zhong Min’s group.

Rong Qian’s state of mind was much simpler. Yet the reality before him forced him to admit that the child he had raised and nurtured weighed far more in his heart than he had imagined.

Long Ao was powerless to resist, struck in the chest by a mighty blow. Amid his screams, everyone saw his chest erupt in a series of explosions, hurling him a hundred meters into a wall. His body was deeply embedded, flesh mangled, dead on the spot.

Such things were commonplace; only, to Euphemia, most were unacceptable. She understood the politics well enough, but this time, their actions were too blatant—using her name as a banner.

“What personality, what change? After all these years sealed away, everything that could change has changed, and what couldn’t has changed anyway. As you say, I only wish to alter this fate. It’s lasted too long; it should end,” Ying Gou did not answer directly—his words sounded reasonable but remained ambiguous.

At this moment, Wang Yuanze entered holding a live wild rabbit, tossing it into the bamboo cage.

So, as this unlucky father grabbed his son’s arm, two even stronger arms firmly locked his own.

The entire business of the Situ clan now rested in Situ Wan’er’s hands. Over the years, the others nurtured resentment but were reluctant to express it openly.

After some time, Wesley slowly brought An over, wiped away his tears, and invited her to sit.

Lin Xiang carried her into the presidential suite at the Comet Hotel’s southern branch in the Magic City, placed her on the bed, covered her, and was about to leave when her hand tightened on his, refusing to let go.

Only thus could Elder Cai slowly absorb all the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and the medicinal aura.

Aside from Chen Yifeng and the others, they saw Duan Hong and Duan Jin supporting the unconscious Yan Han behind them.

Perhaps blessed by heaven, after the mutant night attack, the caravan encountered no further danger, returning safely to Stone City.

Er, Gong Yan corrected himself—his first time wasn’t spying; it was an accident. But this time, it was harder to explain.

“Brother Qin, what you say is a bit rough. I can’t think of anyone offhand—could you be more specific?” Xiao Hua asked.

He stepped inside the Gate of Yang; people bustled about as usual. Nothing particularly unusual caught his eye.

Lin Yun, helpless, had no choice but to slowly familiarize himself with the Wind and Thunder Zither, earnestly studying it and attempting to infuse it with sword intent.

Xiang Yu still remembered: in his quest to find an adoptive father, Fan Zeng, he guarded the Xiao family for centuries, not knowing how many tasks he performed for free. Only when he formally agreed to surrender was the matter settled.

A golden foot slammed the earth, shattering it and raising clouds of dust. Lin Chen’s body shot into the sky, soaring to the heights, with the Gate of Spirit Mountain looming close.