Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Blood-Lacquered Thunder Talisman

My heart was seized with panic, and I hurried to grab Fatty Zuo, but he was simply too fast. The door flickered, and from outside came Xiao Zi’s shrill scream, “Ah!” I rushed out in alarm and saw Xiao Zi cowering in a corner, her whole body trembling, her fair face drained of color. Her eyes, full of fear and helplessness, looked at me.

The talisman in Fatty Zuo’s hand hadn’t been released; he stood there like a god descended to earth...

At the very moment of the explosion, the course of events shifted, and the deadly force turned straight toward the surviving commanders in the northern desert. They instantly understood the situation. After all, everyone here was a fan of the game, captivated by the sheer allure of enhancement stones. And, truth be told, they all wanted to meet the genius behind the game—this eccentric, extraordinary creator.

During the course of forming the team, Li Bin learned that the guards under Sorrowful Light’s Tears were all level one soldiers. The only difference was that their equipment and weapons had been acquired in bulk through Sorrowful Light’s VIP privileges.

As the village chief, I cannot let the village, which has only just begun to thrive, return to poverty once more! I must not allow it!

—“The green hills and clear waters remain unscathed; the rise and fall of ages pass as swiftly as the turning of a hand. Gains and losses through a thousand years are but idle tales exchanged between fishermen and woodcutters.”

Soon after, a swift bone ship was sunk, and another was severely damaged; all the attacking forces aboard perished in the battle.

She arrived at the Yao Residence dressed in white. As she stepped down from the imperial carriage, the townsfolk knelt in welcome. Upon seeing Consort Yun in such attire, they could not help but be astonished.

“You mean, within at most three years, the Heavenly Wraith and the Demon Emperor will wreak havoc upon the world?” Gao Zhi frowned, realizing the gravity of the situation.

“They’re cheating! How could their scores be so high?” some soldiers shouted in disbelief.

“Amitabha. Four laymen visiting at midnight—this humble monk, Dilu, fears his hospitality is lacking.” Master Dilu, palms pressed together, emerged from the meditation hall. The commotion had awakened the monks of the Temple of Fire, who rushed out, armed with pheasant-knives and staff, encircling the group led by Jiang Tu.

For reasons unknown, when he saw that swirl of purple aura, a strange sense of battle-lust and fear rose unbidden in his heart.

Although Zhang Xue was no longer so nervous, her performance was mediocre—not because of nerves, but due to her limited ability. Immediately after, Wang Jiaojiao also failed to impress; her dance lacked beauty, and even if she had a unique style, it was not enough.

Go to America? Would he be roasted on a capitalist’s grill, turned over and over? He figured he’d need two grills for himself.

But even so, this was already terrifying. The so-called “eighty to ninety percent” of Su Zizhan’s strength was not much different from his full power. Only true masters like Dai Zongren could sense the distinction. It almost felt as though Su Zizhan, with the medium he’d left on Su Yunjin, was cheating outright.

At first, the three brothers had felt quite embarrassed. They were somewhat renowned in the southern frontier, and to suddenly become the servants of another Celestial Lord was a blow to their pride. Even if Su Zizhan was the top-ranked on the Celestial List, it was still difficult to swallow.

Then, at the very last step, Shana Kongming suddenly stopped. In Li Chongguang’s shocked gaze, he saw another plant sprouting above the ice-blue flower.

Although Huan Chang could understand some of the golden python’s hissing, he could not fully comprehend it; he could only grasp the general meaning.

Now that Xue Chengjiao was grown, she could make her own decisions—bold ones, at that. Sometimes, it was clear that she worried too much herself.

At the end of the corridor stood a towering pair of double doors, painted a vivid orange and made from heavy red sandalwood.

Li Batian, meanwhile, remained perfectly composed, watching as Wang Mo fell to the ground, making no move to press his advantage. In his eyes, Wang Mo was nothing more than meat on a chopping block; he could prepare him however he wished.