"HUFF—"

"HUFF—"

Han Xun drew deep breaths, his right hand holding the icy-blue long knife, loosening and tightening its grip repeatedly. Eventually, a trace of complexity and despondency emerged in his eyes.

The handsome man looked at Lu Yuan with a slightly bewildered expression. Lu Yuan's serious face suggested he was ready to strike, to unleash [Without Form] on the man's face again at any moment.

A smile surfaced on the handsome man's face for the first time.

"Next time then," he said softly.

Then he relaxed completely, and his figure gradually descended.

The stagnant Death Qi swirling between heaven and earth seemed to begin circulating again, gathering infinite amounts of black Death Qi.

Feeling these changes, Lu Yuan felt a slight chill in his heart. His brow furrowed, wondering what new trick this pretentious king had up his sleeve.

Suddenly, he saw the handsome man before him quietly kneel when his descent brought him level with Lu Yuan's feet.

One hand on his chest, he bowed his head in the respectful manner of a subordinate and said softly, "My Lord."

What the—?!

Lu Yuan was thunderstruck, frozen on the spot. Innumerable exclamation points and question marks flashed through his mind.

The only thing I can think is: Holy crap! Don't tell me *this* is what Crow God left for me? A humanoid pet? He's powerful, sure... but I really don't want a guy who's even more pretentious than me by my side!

Fortunately, it turned out Lu Yuan was overthinking.

After the King of Ancient Brent, still in a subordinate's posture, said, "My Lord," he raised his head and gently tore open his own chest with both hands.

A rich black light burst forth from within.

Lu Yuan's gaze was instantly drawn to it.

He saw—

Inside the King of Ancient Brent's chest, there floated... a feather.

A crow's feather.

It was black, as deep and profound as the night.

This feather released a large amount of dense black light, which filled the King of Ancient Brent's entire chest cavity like a network of veins and arteries.

The King of Ancient Brent plunged his hand into his own chest and gently removed the feather.

He held it in both hands and presented it to Lu Yuan.

"My Lord," he murmured softly, "I've lingered by the shores of the Netherworld River for far too long. I have heard the tolling bells of the Netherworld, seen His shadow; the gates of the Netherworld are opening to me..."

He murmured softly, as if describing some cherished aspiration.

Lu Yuan, however, seemed not to hear him, his entire attention captivated by the black feather.

He wore a dazed expression, his hand reaching out to pick up the feather.

It held no weight. In his hand, it felt as if he were holding nothing at all.

Upon Lu Yuan taking the feather, the King of Ancient Brent before him began to weather away. He was like paper burned to ash, disintegrating inch by inch with the slightest breeze, transforming into roiling black Death Qi.

Together with the vast Death Qi vortex in the sky, it swiftly enveloped Lu Yuan.

"Go, seek His path. My Lord. He once said... He is waiting for you..."

After the King of Ancient Brent uttered his last words, he smiled at Lu Yuan, then completely dispersed into the wind.

"You!"

Lu Yuan instinctively reached out to grasp.

But he only caught a handful of black sand, which then sifted through his fingers in the blink of an eye.

"Uh..."

Lu Yuan stood rooted to the spot, unable to comprehend how such a powerful individual could vanish so abruptly.

His power… did it all come from this feather?

Lu Yuan suddenly realized and unconsciously looked down at the black feather in his hand.

But he found his hand already empty; the black crow feather had mysteriously moved to his chest.

It pressed against his skin, as if gradually melting into him.

At the same time, unfamiliar memories began to flood his mind—more and more, with increasing intensity.

The massive amount of black Death Qi between heaven and earth now completely enveloped him, desperately surging into his body.

Lu Yuan's face contorted, and he couldn't help but clutch his head.

Dimly, he thought he saw someone approaching him.

Don't you dare slaughter me like some henchman of an Evil God! I'm a model citizen!

With the last shred of clarity before his consciousness faded, Lu Yuan considered for a moment, then fiercely threw something in the direction of the approaching figure. Then, the world before his eyes plunged into darkness.

Han Xun stared in shock.

He had watched in disbelief as one of the two figures—an existence so powerful he was almost beyond Han Xun's comprehension of levels—suddenly knelt before the other. Then, the figure ripped open his own chest and took out something ethereal… In the blink of an eye, he vanished into thin air.

Before Han Xun could react to this shocking turn of events, he noticed that the free-roaming black Death Qi within the Lament Ruins, this Secret Realm, began to converge in one direction.

A vast torrent of it, all flowing into the young man who had survived the battle.

The young man floated in mid-air, eyes tightly shut, his face devoid of expression as a large amount of Death Qi condensed around him, forming a magnificent, noble, and ancient suit of armor.

An aura of nobility and terror emanated from him.

This aura reminded Han Xun of the feeling he got when facing the top-echelon powerhouses within Yellow Bear.

It was as if he were in the presence of a supreme Monarch, compelling him with an urge to kneel and worship.

Below, Xie Jun and the other two had already prostrated themselves, foreheads pressed firmly to the ground, their bodies trembling violently.

Han Xun gritted his teeth, suppressed the impulse in his heart, and took a step forward.

His experience as a Four-winged Flying Bear allowed him to roughly guess that what was unfolding before him was some kind of sinister and ancient inheritance ritual.

The most crucial thing to do now, he knew, was to interrupt the ritual before its completion… with all his strength!

An intense cold aura erupted from Han Xun, his entire being almost transforming into pure, icy blue light.

He pushed against the indescribable, terrifying pressure in the air, approaching the figure at the center of the Death Qi vortex step by step.

"HUFF— HUFF—"

He panted heavily, his right hand gripping the long knife tightly.

He struggled to calm his emotions, banishing all distracting thoughts.

The terrifying pressure in the air grew heavier, and his body trembled instinctively beneath it. Yet, his heart felt as solid and cold as an iceberg.

He gripped his long knife with both hands, his eyes devoid of emotion, ready to unleash his most powerful strike.

Suddenly, a black shadow shot out from the vortex, flying straight at him.

Han Xun reflexively reached out to grab it.

When he saw clearly what he held, he froze. All his murderous intent vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of utter bewilderment and shock.

In his hand was a small, black card. On its face, a gleaming golden Yellow Bear emblem stared silently back at him.

One of us?!

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