Volume One, Chapter 80: The Eccentric Relatives Arrive, and the Wrongdoer Strikes First

Yun Mo Yu was her friend, and death was her friend as well. Even if she fell in love with Wan Zhiwei, Gao Tingting would isolate them, making them belong to her alone.

When everyone saw only a skeleton—such a skeleton—no one knew how to react anymore.

Fortunately, Sky Wolf Man had reached the peak of the Manifestation stage's late phase, while Hu Fei was already a master of the Transformation stage. In terms of cultivation, he was still a stage behind Hu Fei, but he had managed to close the gap slightly.

The two flanks were the weakest points of the coalition's defense, often overlooked, making them the best opportunity for a breakout. Moreover, both wings lay against forested hills; the cover of trees provided even greater chances to slip through undetected.

Bingxi atop her Cloud Hoof horse was stunned by the spectacle before her. The aura that surged forth seemed to swallow the heavens and extinguish the earth—utterly astonishing. If struck by the giant sword, anyone would surely be reduced to ashes. But why wasn't the great bird evading the blow?

The barbarian tribes had already begun to fear the immense power of these three. Now, after Swordspring's roar, terror grew in their hearts, and their axes trembled in their hands.

No one really knew what those who went before had actually obtained, but rumor had it that some did acquire treasures—though it was only hearsay.

Thirty masters—no martial saint could possibly keep them all at once.

But today, he had no reason to refuse, so he followed everyone to the KTV suite, though he didn't take the initiative to choose a song.

Yao Yayao wasn't accustomed to such enormous combined classes. It felt more like a formal conference than a relaxed and harmonious lesson.

Bu might have pulled over a nearby conference chair and slumped into it in defeat, then gave two people separate instructions.

Thus, Li Zixiao began scheming everywhere to scrape together money, and he saw Li Zicheng as a major financier.

After Emichenchang explained via divine transmission, Ye Cuo guessed that the man in blue and the man in black were from the same faction, possibly sent by the parents of Emiqing and Emiting.

“Alright, Fellow Daoist Yi Jianfeng, please wait a moment; I’ll go inform the others now,” replied Fang Lin, captain of the city guard.

He undoubtedly intended to outpace the Pure Yang Palace party, cross the Black Desert, and find the burial site of the Ancient Heavenly Demon.

Zhao Meng, Xia Qingqing, and the others, having just returned to the East Sea, received urgent news on their phones at the first opportunity.

Among them were eight or nine martial sect masters, the rest being martial lords. These were all elites recruited by Li Hengxuan in recent times, selected from among millions; now, all had assembled.

Limbs flew, blood rained down, gently drifting from the sky. The air still echoed with the shrill death cry of King Xie Xiu Wang Huan—a master of the Transformation stage had fallen.

“Alright, I haven’t seen Third Brother in a long while. It's just as well—I can catch up, so I won’t need to squeeze in a few words at home over lunch,” Wei Ximeng said with a smile.

“Very well, Old Qian. Since the boats are sound, I’ll leave them in your care. I have other matters, so I won’t see you off,” Ximeng said, smiling after listening to Old Qian’s words.

Guan Xiaojun knew something of antiques and porcelain, but at first he couldn't understand why experts claimed that porcelain had spirit and vitality, and dynastic rise and fall affected it. In his mind, firing porcelain was a technical matter, unrelated to national strength.

The soldier and the old artisan Ma Sanquan reacted much like the fishermen, looking somewhat bewildered, uncertain if the young master Wei was serious.

On the snow-white lantern, five scarlet characters—“Ten Thousand Horse Hall of Guandong.” The purple cedar youths leaned against the fence, heads high, watching the lantern rise.

Anhao watched the people on stage attentively from below. Perhaps he hadn’t seen such a scene before, but among so many enterprises, only he dared speak out against power, showing real courage.

So Cui Yuzhen’s heart was troubled. Ye Kai could tell, but never expected that a single word from him could drive her to do anything for him without hesitation.

Song hurriedly waved his hand, saying, “Brother Jie, Qina is one of the renowned young masters of our Giantwood tribe; blades and swords know no mercy, so it would be unfortunate to injure him.” After all, the two had saved his only son; if Du Qianjie were to be harmed, he would feel guilt.

At this time, in Yunze City, very few buildings rose above three stories; only the city hospital reached three, while the rest topped out at two.

Guo Dalu kept his composure and walked over slowly, weighing whether to speak first or act.

With four times the brain quantum waves and the careful cultivation of artificial reformer technology, its level far exceeded human norms, allowing it to keenly sense what the person before it truly was.

Finally, there was the golden equipment—the last grade of early spirit tools. Rare and precious, it didn’t enhance or strengthen like others, nor could it be enchanted, yet this didn’t diminish the survivors’ fervent pursuit of it.

Lu Yan was still wandering in thought, only to suddenly feel a gaze as solid as substance settle on him. Instinctively, he slapped his sword case and gripped the Pure Yang Sword in his hand. His glance swept around, revealing a fierce air.

Most pursuers, after a burst of enthusiasm, were deterred by the lack of progress; yet as some fell away, new ones sprang up.

Upon hearing that the emperor was drunk, Xiao Wan Ci felt somewhat reassured and hurriedly asked Xi Yu to tidy her hair.

For most in Huaxia, the impression of Martial God Yun Fan remained as it was decades ago. Now, after so many years, he looked unchanged—still in his early twenties. The shock was profound.

Later, when he tried to persuade the man himself, he got no gratitude, and assumed the man must have some mental issue.

The constables bustled about, raising water-fire staves, pushing and scolding as they swiftly cleared the court of idle people, and propped up the limp Li Qifan, escorting him back to the jail to await sentencing at the execution ground the next day.

Yet the aftermath still threatened to spread, nearly reaching the palace walls nearby, until the four great demon immortals joined forces to suppress the lingering effects.