"No… no, you can't kill me! No one can kill me! I am a proud Deity Transformation demon, servant of Demon Lord Arkos!"

The three-eyed demon shrieked, its baleful aura erupting in a frantic blaze. Crimson light poured from its scales as it struggled–desperately–to halt the descent of the colossal blue sword.

But the sword didn't care.

Its edge continued dropping, slower than a guillotine yet infinitely more final, each inch carrying the silent authority of a world-ending decree.

Bang!

The barrier of demonic qi shattered like brittle glass, exploding into a storm of blood-red fragments. The demon's roar cracked into a whimper, its legs buckling under a force it had no hope of resisting.

The sword did not slow.

Not for a heartbeat.

Puchi!

A sharp, nauseating wet crack echoed across heaven and earth.

The demon's towering figure ruptured into a cloud of blood-mist, scattering across the torn landscape like crimson rain.

Silence followed—heavy, suffocating.

The three-eyed demon was dead.

Just like that.

Rong Lua felt his jaw hit the metaphorical ground. His mind refused to reconcile the scene before him. He knew Wang Chen had grown strong—ridiculously strong—but this? A Deity Transformation demon felled like a fly under a palm?

His gaze drifted upward toward the tens-of-meters-long sword still hanging in the sky.

Even looking at it made his heart tremble. The Sword Dao contained within it was so profound he felt his own bottlenecks quiver. If he kept staring, he might truly glimpse a new step forward.

Up in the sky, the Wind and Thunder City Lord swallowed hard.

He didn't dare move.

He didn't even dare breathe too loudly.

The cross-shaped mark in Li Mei's pupils spun like a turning gear, her gaze slicing through the drifting blood-mist, searching—hungry—for any lingering trace of danger.

She found it.

Her eyes tightened a fraction of an inch.

A razor-sharp presence darted straight toward her.

Lin Huang reacted the instant she did.

"Junior sister, step aside!"

But the warning came half a heartbeat too late.

A warped phantom—ashen, translucent, and dripping with malice—shot out of the smoke. A perfect afterimage of the three-eyed demon's former body, only twisted and flickering with cold, soul-born hatred.

"Ke… kekeke… did you think destroying my flesh would end me?"

Its voice slithered into their ears like a serrated blade.

"You protected these two little cultivators, didn't you? Then watch… as I rip this little girl apart!"

The demon's true spirit lunged.

For Wang Chen, the world seemed to lurch.

Damn.

His heart slammed painfully against his ribs.

How could he forget? After reaching Deity Transformation, a nascent soul no longer behaved like a mere soul. It became a true soul—an entity capable of surviving even without a body.

Unless its root was obliterated, it simply wouldn't die.

From the moment the demon's body ruptured to the instant its true spirit appeared before Li Mei—not even a full second had passed.

Yet disaster unfolded in slow motion.

Lin Huang's face drained of all color, his obsidian pupils locking onto the looming phantom. The demon's distorted form reflected perfectly in his eyes, closing in on Li Mei's head with every passing fraction of time.

Song Po and the Wind and Thunder City Lord staggered backward in pure animal fear, both instinctively distancing themselves.

Rong Lua let out a long, defeated breath, closing his eyes.

Even Wang Chen's overwhelming strike couldn't save the girl now.

In that single breath, every spectator reached the same conclusion—

Li Mei was going to die.

"No!"

Even Zhao Yunfei felt the shadow of death brush her cheek.

She had known Li Mei for barely a handful of breaths, yet the kindness these two strangers showed her… it was real. Tangible. Warm. Not something she took lightly.

The golden light hidden beneath her blindfold surged.

A ripple—silent, colorless, and terrifying—burst outward from her body. The world bent. Air distorted. The lake's reflection warped as the laws of fate and karmic destiny twisted in her presence.

Wang Chen felt it like a blade pricking his soul.

She's absorbing fate… all of it.

In the frozen stillness of Chronoblade's heightened perception, he saw it clearly:

The fortune of his disciples.

The luck of the village.

The providence of the lake, the fish, the trees.

Even the faint qi veins of the world itself dimmed, siphoned into the girl like threads of golden smoke.

His chest tightened.

This girl… what in all heavens is she?

Worse—her abnormality drew attention.

Soul senses—dozens of them—whirled toward their location. Some so vast they made Wang Chen's heart twist in instinctive dread.

If she fully awakened here… even he might not make it out alive.

But none of that mattered now.

Because the demon's true spirit was already inches from Li Mei's face.

A jagged claw of soul-force extended, moments away from ripping her consciousness apart—

—and the world froze.

Completely.

Without a sound, without a glow, without a flicker in the wind.

Wang Chen unleashed Chronoblade again.

Time cracked like thin ice.

The three-eyed demon's spirit tried to scream, its voice warping in a dragged-out echo:

"Did you think… this was… the end…?"

Click.

The true spirit shattered like brittle glass, fragments of soul scattering as faint blue sparks across the night sky.

Thud.

A single snow-white stone fell to the ground where the demon's spirit had been.

Silence swallowed the world.

Then—

"Junior sister!"

Lin Huang rushed forward, grabbing Li Mei's shoulders, his hands trembling.

"Are you hurt? Tell me you're not hurt!"

There was no bravado in his voice, no heroic sharpness—only raw fear. Fear of losing someone important.

Li Mei blinked.

Just moments ago, the demon's claw had been inches from her forehead. But now, staring at Lin Huang's desperate expression…

Is this what it feels like… to be truly cared for?

Wang Chen finally let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Good.

He used Chronoblade at exactly the right moment.

Any slower, and even time wouldn't have saved her.

Still, his gaze flicked--sharp and cold--toward Zhao Yunfei hidden behind his disciples.

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