Swish!

Wind screamed. Thunder cracked.

And in the blink of an eye, the figure of the Wind and Thunder Lord tore through the skies and materialized above the battlefield.

His expression—usually calm and composed—shattered the moment his gaze landed on the scene before him.

"A… Three Eyes Demon…"

His voice trembled. His pupils shrank.

He sucked in a sharp breath of cold air.

Because what he sensed from below wasn't a normal demon.

It was something far, far worse.

The pressure spilling from the transformed demon was overwhelming—so heavy it pressed against his chest like several mountains stacked atop one another. The Wind and Thunder Lord, a Nascent Soul cultivator, felt his knees threaten to buckle.

Below, the transformed demon threw back its massive head and laughed.

A low, thunderous, bone-rattling laugh.

"Kekeke… let me show you what real strength is…"

Its transformation completed.

Where once stood a ten-foot-tall monster was now a towering entity over twenty feet, each step causing the earth to collapse beneath its feet.

Dark runic scales crawled across its flesh—they shimmered with an eerie sheen, reflecting light like sharpened obsidian blades.

Its triple eyes burned with malicious joy.

Its aura thrashed violently enough to distort the air itself.

Even Rong Lua—normally proud to the point of arrogance—felt his heart pounding in panic.

Deity Transformation…

His expression turned grave, bordering despair.

'When he was at the Nascent Soul Realm, I could barely restrain him… Now—now I can't even hope to win.'

The gap was suffocating.

The demon's new presence made him feel like an insect staring at a heavenly calamity.

Lin Huang and Li Mei, despite being protected by the remnants of Rong Lua's sword domain, weren't spared either.

The instant the demon's full pressure descended—

Boom!

It hit Lin Huang's chest like a divine hammer descending from the heavens.

Air exploded from his lungs.

"Cough—! Cough—!"

Lin Huang staggered backward, dropping one knee to the cracked earth, his arms shaking violently like a sapling caught in a hurricane.

His hands trembled so hard that even gripping his sword became a struggle.

Li Mei's heart tightened as she rushed to his side.

Her eyes, usually so calm, finally wavered.

"Senior brother—are you okay?"

Her voice was low but filled with genuine concern.

Seeing him like this—struggling, suffocating—sent a sharp pang through her heart.

For the first time, she felt guilty.

If something happens to him because of me…

Lin Huang must survive.

He had to survive.

Because if he didn't…

The consequences—for her, for their master, for the entire continent—would be disastrous.

On the other hand, Zhao Yunfei remained utterly unaffected by the crushing demonic pressure.

It was bizarre.

Where Lin Huang was coughing blood and Li Mei was barely restraining the collapsing air with the phantom of the World Tree, Zhao Yunfei simply stood there—her small body trembling, yes, but completely unharmed.

Yet her expression was far from calm.

She could see—or rather, sense—the state of her two protectors. Their qi flickered violently, their bodies strained to their limit. Even without vision, she could feel their pain.

A crack formed in her voice.

Could it be… she would die here?

Would she really perish before finding her brother?

No. Absolutely not.

Zhao Yunfei clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white beneath the cloth of her sleeves.

No… No! I can't die here! I must live! I must find him! Brother… wait for me!

Her heart screamed. The world seemed to respond.

Unknown to Lin Huang or Li Mei, something impossible happened.

Behind the black cloth covering her eyes, a faint radiance sparked—two blazing suns awakening beneath the darkness.

Air distorted around her.

Reality itself seemed to ripple.

The ground trembled—not from the demon's pressure, but something deeper, subtler, as if the heavens were bending to protect her.

Li Mei and Lin Huang did not notice.

But one person did.

Wang Chen.

Hidden between shadows and shifting air, Wang Chen felt a chill slither up his spine—one far colder than the demon's killing intent.

That girl…

That blindfolded girl…

She was devouring fate.

Wang Chen's pupils contracted sharply as he studied her aura through the flow of providence.

Just a moment ago—no more than a flicker—threads of golden fate wrapped around Lin Huang and Li Mei had dimmed. A portion of their brilliance was siphoned away… into Zhao Yunfei.

Her fortune was growing.

Feeding.

Absorbing.

Strengthening.

And the world was warping to answer her wishes.

Wang Chen inhaled sharply.

Hiss—!

For the first time since stepping into the Foundation Building Realm, he felt genuine horror.

The demon was terrifying, yes.

But the blindfolded girl…

Zhao Yunfei was far more dangerous.

If left unchecked, she might unintentionally drain the fate of his disciples—or worse, warp destiny itself.

No… my disciples cannot remain near her.

Wang Chen's expression hardened.

He no longer had the luxury of waiting.

If he didn't act now, it would be too late.

He summoned his qi.

Chronoblade pulsed under his skin.

Doomclock's runes stirred restlessly.

But just as he prepared to move—

The sky rippled again.

Another aura tore through space like a rusted blade, messy and panicked.

A middle-aged figure appeared above the battlefield—disheveled, trembling, and wide-eyed.

Wang Chen instantly recognized him.

Song Po.

The lord of the Song family.

Golden Core cultivator.

City master.

A man who once thought he stood at the peak of the Azure Dragon Continent.

Right now?

He looked like a terrified child dumped into a pit of vipers.

His eyes locked onto the colossal demon and instantly filled with despair.

Fuck… fuck! Why did I come here?!

His lips trembled as the realization hit him like a strike from the heavens.

"WHY did I follow that aura?! Why did I have to be curious today of all days?!"

Song Po wanted to retreat.

He wanted to run until his spirit extinguished.

But his knees had already gone weak.

And his fate was sealed the moment he entered the sky above the lake.

On the other hand, the demon's three pupils widened in unrestrained greed.

"Good… GOOD!"

His voice rumbled like thunder tearing through the roots of the earth.

"It seems the heavens themselves wish for me to ascend to the Deity Transformation Realm… to send two more juicy cultivators right into my jaws!"

His dark-red aura surged violently, the sky dimming as if swallowed by an eclipse. A cold wind tore through the lakefront village, carrying with it the stench of pure malice.

"Once I absorb your vitality," the demon roared, "my breakthrough is guaranteed! Deity Transformation will be nothing more than a step. Now—"

His three eyes narrowed, glowing with murderous anticipation.

"Tell me—how would you like to die?"

The words weren't just sound. They were will—a baleful decree forcing itself into the minds of all beings present.

The world warped.

Everything faded.

Only the demon's half-opened maw remained…

A cosmic black hole pulling at their souls, wanting to tear them apart at the seams.

Lin Huang staggered, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. His vision blurred.

Li Mei's knees softened as her World Tree phantom flickered dangerously.

Even Rong Lua—proud Nascent Soul cultivator—felt his spirit tremble.

Song Po almost fainted on the spot.

Reality was collapsing.

And then—

A voice like a falling sword echoed across the world.

Calm. Carefree.

Yet so sharp it cut through the demon's domain as if slicing thin silk.

"How daring."

Li Mei's pupils dilated.

Her heart clenched.

A familiar image flashed through her mind—

A man walking with hands clasped behind his back…

Expression mild, yet unreadably profound.

Teacher!

The air above the lake trembled.

Step by step, Wang Chen WALKED through the sky.

From the void beneath his feet, impossibly tiny swords—barely the size of rice grains—materialized and arranged themselves as if weaving a celestial path for him.

Every step he took hummed softly.

Every footfall cut the demon's killing intent apart like a gentle breeze slicing a hurricane.

The three-eyed demon stiffened.

For the first time since his arrival, a shadow of unease flickered across his monstrous face.

He hadn't sensed this man at all.

How was that possible?

A faint, involuntary chill crawled down his scaled spine.

He hated it.

He despised it.

Meanwhile, high in the sky, Rong Lua exhaled a long breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Relief flooded him.

Shame, too.

And resentment.

But above all—hope.

That bastard.

That terrifying, unfathomable bastard…

Even though Wang Chen had branded a seal in his spiritual space and effectively made him a slave, Rong Lua knew the truth:

Right now, only Wang Chen had the power to save them all.

He swallowed hard.

"Luckily…" he whispered, trembling, "…luckily he arrived."

After all, by his estimation—no, by his wishful thinking—the master of the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo must be…

At least at the Deity Transformation Realm.

Of course, the true reality—

That Wang Chen was merely at early Foundation Building Realm—

If Rong Lua ever learned that, the shock might kill him on the spot.

And the demon?

The demon would never recover from the humiliation.

Wang Chen's arrival rippled through the battlefield like a pebble dropped into still water—small, subtle, but carrying an inexplicable gravity.

Even the Lord of Wind and Thunder City—whose eyes were infused with thunderous Dao—paused mid-air, his lightning aura dimming for half a heartbeat. He stared, stunned.

A Foundation Building cultivator… walking the air?

The tiny sword-shadows materializing beneath Wang Chen's feet shimmered with sharp, ancient resonance. Each step contained a rhythm, a cadence, as if heaven itself was adjusting the path for him. A faint current of sword intent swirled around his figure, gentle yet unfathomably deep.

Song Po, who had been trembling from the demon's aura a moment ago, nearly fainted for an entirely different reason.

Oh heavens, not here… why does this man always show up where I am?!

His complexion turned even paler than before. His soul was in turmoil—half fear, half resentment, half… regret for coming at all. And also a quiet, bitter voice in his heart:

Why didn't I stay home today? Why did I come? Why do I keep meeting this devil everywhere I go…

He had noticed Rong Lua earlier in the sky—but that had caused no panic.

Seeing Wang Chen, however, shattered his composure instantly.

If this were any other day, Song Po would've hated him with renewed ferocity. But under the present circumstances, even he instinctively gravitated toward Wang Chen's presence.

Even as a junior might seek shelter behind an elder.

Because right now…

Even Song Po knew:

A demon at this level spelled certain death.

The three-eyed demon finally shook off the strange uneasiness that had crawled up from his tailbone. He forced that instinct aside with a growl and glared at Wang Chen, his three pupils narrowing into feral slits.

"A mere Foundation Building cultivator," the demon sneered, his voice booming like rocks grinding in a furnace, "dares to mock me?"

The air trembled, the wind rolling in reverse as his baleful aura surged.

"Tell me," the demon hissed, leaning forward with a grotesque grin stretching across his scaled face, "have you grown tired of living?"

He lifted one titanic foot, the ground beneath it cracking like thin ice.

His killing intent soared into the heavens—

—and Wang Chen didn't even blink.

His long hair fluttered lightly in the wind. His expression remained indifferent, almost bored. As if the demon in front of him wasn't a creature capable of wiping out kingdoms with a thought… but a noisy insect disturbing his afternoon nap.

A soft sigh escaped Wang Chen.

As though he had walked all this way, not to save lives, but because someone had yelled too loudly and disrupted his peace.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.