Ye Chen was actually charging straight at them? And that War God Clan semi-saint—sent off with a single punch? Why did the Heavenly Emperor's heir's combat strength seem even more outrageous than before? Had his cave heaven origin truly been depleted? Was he burning potential to forcibly reclaim his peak? Or had there been no issue at all—had they been lured into a trap?

Even as doubt crept into their hearts from this complete reversal, the prodigies remained unflustered. After all, there had been thirty-four of them—oh, wait, one War God semi-saint was gone! That still left thirty-three prodigies!

With flawless coordination, even a saint would have to yield temporarily. What was there to fear? The one who should be afraid was Ye Chen. Still, out of habit, they swept the area with divine sense. The sweep drew furrowed brows all around.

Huh? Another one missing?

"Where's Shen Yu of the Divine Silkworm Clan—the one with the Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod? Where did he go?"

"Forget it. Thirty-two is still more than enough. Everyone, attack together!"

"Pay attention to coordination. War God Clan, Spirit Wood Clan, Divine Silkworm Clan—those with powerful physiques take the front line. Hold the Heavenly Emperor's heir back."

"Flame Soul Clan, Thunder Firmament Clan—use your innate divine abilities. Stay at range and bombard him relentlessly..."

"Shadow Charm Clan, Dark Soul Clan—conceal yourselves. Disrupt Ye Chen's divine sense with your innate abilities and strike when openings appear."

"Starwing Clan, unleash your healing prohibition techniques. Slow his recovery—don't stop for a moment. The sacred body's regeneration is terrifying!"

These were all pinnacle prodigies. Though the situation had veered wildly from their original plan, the outcome remained similar. It had given them a legitimate excuse to swarm Ye Chen.

Calm swiftly returned. They rapidly formed ranks, each assuming their role, and launched a fierce assault. Ye Chen, hurtling toward them, watched their maneuvers with a faint upward curl of his lips.

Luo Bingling's earlier strike against him had naturally been prearranged between the two. This way, she avoided the stain of betraying her race. And he gained full justification to annihilate the entire group.

Everything was perfect. Yet listening to their battle plan, watching them split into formations, Ye Chen's mouth twitched slightly. Why did it feel like they were forming a raid party to tackle a boss?

But considering his current strength, he could understand it. High attack, high defense, thick health bar, diverse skills. To cultivators of the third or fourth heavenly layer, he truly was no different from a final boss.

...

Shen Yu of the Divine Silkworm Clan clutched the Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod, concealed in the void with supreme divine arts that erased all traces of his presence. He had originally planned to blend into the crowd and coast through the fight.

But witnessing Ye Chen obliterate the War God semi-saint with a single punch, he sensed something amiss and changed tactics, hiding himself completely.

If the Heavenly Emperor's heir couldn't sustain his strength, Shen Yu would join the others for a sneak attack. If the heir was baiting them—his power undiminished—he would simply slip away as though nothing had happened.

Yet as he watched the battlefield ahead, unease grew. In his sight, the Heavenly Emperor's heir charged without hesitation—accelerating—straight into what could be called the myriad races' finest assembly of over thirty semi-saints.

Four frontrunners from the War God and Spirit Wood Clans met him first. The War God experts swelled with muscle, their killing aura shaking the heavens. Vertical pupils spewed divine beams; each punch and kick fell like meteors from the sky. Worthy of the War God name, they shattered the void relentlessly.

The Spirit Wood semi-saints transformed into divine trees, branches whipping wildly. Endless leaves burst from their bodies like razor-sharp blades. This was the Spirit Wood Clan's terror: they needed no Extreme Dao weapons. At the Mahayana stage, their very bodies became the deadliest arms. Roots, stems, branches, leaves, petals—all could wound.

Yet facing the four, Ye Chen's expression remained unchanged. His hands wove the Heavenly Emperor Fist, as though ruling the world. Each punch erupted, and one foe exploded. In mere instants, the four perished like ants, blasted apart in sequence. The annihilating force of the Heavenly Emperor Fist denied them even a chance to regenerate—they fell completely.

Shen Yu shuddered. He silently retreated further into the void. In the distance, the Flame Soul and Thunder Firmament experts' pupils contracted. The Flame Soul prodigies unleashed a sea of fire—flames, an eerie ghostly blue. Where they passed, the void melted into colossal fire serpents that coiled and lunged at Ye Chen.

The Thunder Firmament group summoned heavenly thunder together, evoking a tribulation. Endless bolts writhed like dragons in the calamity clouds, descending with savage destructive fury.

Facing this onslaught, Ye Chen's left hand manifested the True Phoenix Treasure Technique, while his right invoked the Thunder Emperor Treasure Technique. From his left, a true phoenix surged forth, expanding with the wind until it blotted out the sky.

The terrifying fire serpents seemed mere insects before it—pecked away effortlessly. The next moment, the phoenix charged the Flame Soul experts. In their despairing gazes, it exploded open, its might akin to the sun's detonation.

From Ye Chen's right hand, boundless thunder beasts poured out. Some soared to ravage the calamity clouds, clashing with the thunder dragons. Others plunged straight toward the Thunder Firmament prodigies. The ferocious beasts collided relentlessly, then liquefied into thunder essence, engulfing and refining the semi-saints. In the blink of an eye, one from each clan had fallen.

Shen Yu shuddered again. He backed away several more steps. The hidden Shadow Charm and Dark Soul semi-saints approaching through the void trembled at the sight as well. But seeing Ye Chen's back wide open, defenseless, killing intent surged in their eyes. They struck in unison.

Stolen story; please report.

Unleashing their strongest innate divine abilities, all four targeted the back of his head. The assault was unimaginably swift—earth-shattering. Even a saint might perish under it.

Clang...

Yet when their blows landed on Ye Chen's skull, his head didn't even twitch. Only a few strands of hair drifted down. A faint white mark appeared on the back of his head—no wound, not even a scratch.

Terror seized the four; their souls nearly fled their bodies. They sought only to flee. But Ye Chen turned with a cold sneer. Tribulation light surged from his chest as a massive hand erupted forth. The four were grasped in his palm and, in an instant, lost all signs of life—refined in the blink of an eye.

Shen Yu's hand trembled around the Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod. Without further hesitation, he turned to flee. Screw this—thank goodness he hadn't listened to the clan leader!

The remaining myriad races' semi-saints wore expressions of pure dread. In mere moments, nearly ten semi-saints had fallen. How could they fight this?

Semi-saints were like paper before the Heavenly Emperor's heir. This was supposed to be a weakness? He was clearly stronger!

The heir's cave heaven origin had never been drained. This was all a complete deception. A fishing expedition.

At this moment, battle intent vanished from every heart. Like startled birds and beasts, they unleashed their escape techniques and scattered in frantic flight.

Ye Chen's lips curved upward. "Offend me and think you can just leave? All of you—stay!"

In the next instant, chaos qi flowed from his eyes...

"Heavy Pupils Open the Heavens!"

A cold smile curved Ye Chen's lips as endless chaos qi surged within his eyes. In an instant, a realm of pure, pristine land materialized out of nowhere, then enveloped the entire battlefield with lightning speed.

Shen Yu of the Divine Silkworm Clan had fled desperately into the distance, but in the blink of an eye, a towering wall condensed from chaos qi rose abruptly before him. His face drained of color. His legs buckled, nearly sending him crumpling to the ground.

Regret flooded him. He hadn't been cautious enough. The moment Ye Chen obliterated the War God semi-saint with one punch, he should have fled immediately.

For some time now, he had repeatedly studied the recording stones of Ye Chen's past battles. The shocking scenes of Ye Chen unleashing Heavy Pupils—he had watched them countless times. He thought he understood the divine ability's power and range.

Yet experiencing it firsthand, he realized how grossly mistaken he had been. The scope and might of Ye Chen's current display far exceeded his imagination. His own strength was suppressed to an insane degree.

Endless cave heaven power churned within him, yet he couldn't scratch the pristine realm even slightly. He cursed his clan leader inwardly—a complete idiot. He had insisted he shouldn't come, but the leader persuaded him anyway.

The leader himself was no genius—never succeeded at anything. What useful advice could he possibly give? Now he was done for...

Shen Yu huddled silently in a corner, desperately pondering how to survive. Figures like Yao Yuekong and Little Peacock King flashed through his mind.

Yao Yuekong had lived by selling his sister. Little Peacock King had called Ye Chen "father." His own mother visited the Heavenly Demon Clan's residence daily, staying a full week each time—emerging radiant and utterly satisfied.

Shen Yu fell into deep thought. His own mother possessed mediocre talent—only at the Unity stage, with average looks. But the clan leader's wife was stunningly beautiful and of exalted status. She seemed quite suitable—a Saint King, no less. The leader had risen to his position largely because of her.

...

High in the firmament, the myriad races' great powers—who had lounged confidently moments ago, certain of victory—paled dramatically. Their eyes narrowed.

Everything unfolded too swiftly. In mere blinks, dozens of pinnacle prodigies had fallen. The scene resembled autumn winds sweeping away leaves—utterly devastating.

The great powers watched with aching hearts. These prodigies were the carefully nurtured hopes of their clans, each brimming with extraordinary potential. Even if ascension proved impossible, most were destined to reach the Saint King realm at minimum. They formed the foundation for their clans' survival in the impending Age of Dharma's End.

Yet before Ye Chen, they proved so fragile—dying like ants in an instant. The elders hadn't even had time to intervene. That bastard Heavenly Emperor's heir had truly schemed against them. Every "flaw" he had shown before was deliberate misdirection—virtual and real intertwined—leading them to fill in the gaps themselves and firmly believe he had weakened. He had even dangled the Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod, a supreme Extreme Dao weapon, as bait to lure them in.

Insidious. Utterly insidious.

Seeing the remaining prodigies wisely choose flight, the elders exhaled in relief. But before they could recover, Ye Chen unleashed Heavy Pupils, trapping everyone once more—intent on wiping them out completely. Their hearts leaped into their throats again.

At once, the great power who had bantered amicably with Feng Baiyu moments earlier watched Ye Chen charge toward his clan's prodigies. Panic seized him. He stepped forward and bellowed desperately, "Heavenly Emperor's heir, stop! They have lost all will to fight—killing them further serves no purpose!"

Yet within the Heavy Pupil Pure Land, Ye Chen seemed deaf to it all. He didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow. Lifting his gaze, he fired a beam of annihilating divine light. Fury consumed the great power. He prepared to charge in and save his kin.

Yet just as the great power surged forward, Feng Baiyu appeared before him like a phantom, smiling warmly. "My friend, where are you headed?"

Facing that beaming smile, killing intent flared in the elder's eyes. This man was no good either. Rumors had long called him a schemer. But Feng Baiyu was even sneakier than imagined, as if he didn't know exactly what the elder intended.

"Step aside. This battle must end!" the great power roared.

Feng Baiyu seemed not to hear, shaking his head gently as he spoke unhurriedly, "Wasn't it you, my friend, who said it earlier? The young must walk their own path. If elders intervene at the slightest setback, how can they grow? We of the older generation watching coldly from the sidelines—that is the greatest protection we can offer the juniors..."

Hearing Feng Baiyu turn into a parrot, repeating his own words, the great power's face turned livid. He cursed inwardly: They're about to be wiped out—protection my ass!

"Move!" he bellowed again, his voice rolling like thunder, vibrating the surrounding air with buzzing echoes. This myriad races' great power was a fifth-heaven saint—immensely formidable. Yet Feng Baiyu, merely at the King Realm, showed no fear. He continued smiling directly at the elder, refusing to yield a single step.

At the same time, the other myriad races' great powers pressed forward, intent on breaking through his blockade. But the human great powers Feng Baiyu had brought reacted swiftly, locking onto them one by one. Both sides stood in a tense standoff, neither budging.

"Heavenly Evolution Holy Master, do you truly wish to war with us?" one myriad races' great power asked through gritted teeth, voice icy. "Think carefully—this is Myriad Races Immortal City! If we truly clash, your human race will undoubtedly lose!"

Feng Baiyu reacted as though hearing the funniest joke in the world, his lips curving upward. "Come on, then. Best if you kill a few more! If humanity's pinnacle experts don't surround and annihilate you tomorrow, I'll count it my loss!"

Internal conflicts abounded within the human race, true. But deep down, all shared one unspoken understanding: those not of our kind must harbor different hearts.

Just as the myriad races had their "Make the Myriad Races Great Again" extremists, humanity too had voices calling for the extermination of the myriad races over the past million years.

With the Age of Dharma's End approaching, cultivation resources dwindled rapidly—no longer sufficient to support so many cultivators.

Contradictions between humans and the myriad races sharpened. Even factions once advocating coexistence quietly shifted their stance. If true war erupted today and human experts fell, it would inevitably ignite the third great war.

Feng Baiyu's ruthless words turned the myriad races' great powers' faces exceptionally grim. They knew full well that clashing with humanity now—unprepared and caught off guard—would bring disastrous consequences.

"Some of you hold the human experts back. I'll rescue our clans' prodigies!"

But they outnumbered the humans after all.

A new plan quickly formed. With superior numbers, a portion could pin down the human great powers while the rest slipped in to save their prodigies. They had forces to spare—splitting troops posed no issue.

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