Ge Ye's body was like a leaf caught in autumn wind, hastily retreating with disarray, each table and chair it passed being violently shattered by the concealed power pressing against it. Retreating nearly half the hall on the ground, Ge Ye finally came to a slow halt, his face pale, overwhelmed with disbelief. "You—" wiping the blood from his lip, Ge Ye gasped heavily, his mind swirling with tumultuous waves: "That face... why does it feel so familiar?" In his mind, the youthful face of the Xiao family's young boy—full of resilience and determination—slowly surfaced from memory, overlapping with the fleeting impression he'd just received, and unexpectedly, there was a subtle resemblance. "It can't be!" His heart suddenly jolted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he drew in several breaths of cool air. After a moment, he shook his head firmly: "I must have been dazzled!" Even if that young man has shed the title of a mere waste, it's absolutely impossible for him to achieve such a level within just three years! Three years—from a level where he hadn't even reached the rank of a Duelist to becoming a Duelist of the Imperial Rank? Egaya dares to guarantee this with his own chest, and even across the entire continent of Qi, such a feat would surely be unheard of. As his emotions gradually settled, Egaya began to question his earlier perception. After a moment of thoughtful reflection, he firmly concluded that he had absolutely, without a doubt, been mistaken—he had indeed seen something wrong. With this conviction firmly established, the shock on his face slowly subsided. He pressed a hand to his chest, coughed a few times, and a fresh streak of blood once again flowed from his lips, the injury sustained from the black-robed man's palm proving to be quite serious. "Uncle Egaya, are you all right?" On the platform, Nalan Yanran gracefully landed beside him, her delicate features showing clear concern as she asked anxiously. "Coughing a bit, but nothing serious." Shaking her head, Ge Ye chuckled bitterly. Gazing at Ge Ye's pale face, Nalan Yanran raised her brows slightly—this was the first time she had seen someone dare to treat Yunlan Sect's people so disrespectfully. With a cold expression, she turned her gaze toward the black-robed official, her voice clear and composed. "Sir, is your conduct today a direct challenge to Yunlan Sect?" The black robe rustled slightly, and Nalan Yanran sensed the detached gaze emanating from beneath it. Her hands tightened, a quiet anger stirring within. "Besides citing Yunlan Sect, what else can you do? I will personally ensure that Mu Cheng lives—today. If you wish to obstruct me, then act now. Do not appeal to Yunlan Sect or Yun Yun. That will accomplish nothing for you." The black-robed official lightly brushed his sleeve, his tone carrying a clear undercurrent of mockery and scorn. “You…,” hearing the mocking words from the black-robed figure, Lan Yan’s brows darkened with rising anger as she coldly replied, “You are a powerful Duke-level cultivator, surely not unknown within the Gama Empire. Since you have decided today to kill Mo Cheng, I beg you to reveal your name. From this point on, my Yunlan Sect will personally seek you out to settle matters.” “Settle matters? Hah—perhaps Miss Yunyun will come with hundreds of her people to do the talking?” The black-robed figure shook his head, offering a mocking smile. “Since you were able to defeat Mo Cheng before the leaders of numerous powerful factions in the northeastern provinces, why remain hidden and unassuming? With your strength, I believe you are not afraid of retaliation from the Mo family—but rather, you are wary of the Yunlan Sect behind them.” Lan Yan said coldly. “It’s not that I’m afraid. It’s simply that I don’t wish to. You needn’t rush. The Yunlan Sect—I will eventually go there. By then, you will naturally know my status.” The black-robed figure replied calmly. Hearing the black-robed figure treat Yunlan Sect with such disdain, Nalan Yanyan bit her silver teeth, resentfully saying, "Very well. Since you have such courage, I shall truly see whether you are bold enough to venture into Yunlan Sect!" "Done?" The black-robed figure slightly trembled, as if he had shrugged his shoulders. "Done? Then cease your murmuring. I shall begin. Should you wish to intervene, do so—though I must remind you that I will not spare you due to your status. If you wish to see Yunlan Sect lose a successor, simply remain quiet and watch." "Heard this, Lan Yan pressed her rosy lips tightly together, her full chest rising and falling gently, drawing a smooth, alluring curve. Though deeply angered, she found herself powerless within this hall—no one could challenge this enigmatic strength, and the opponent seemed entirely unafraid of Yunlan Sect. Thus, aside from watching Mu Cheng fall at the master's feet, she had no recourse. "Esteemed sir..." gazing at the black-robed figure who seemed poised to strike, Master Mo Lan of the Mo family felt pale. Though he had intended to step forward and intervene, recalling the fates of Ge Ye and Na Lan Yanran earlier, he had to suppress his impulse. It was clear that the black-robed figure had hesitated only because of Ge Ye's status. However, if they now charged in, there would surely be more lifeless ice statues scattered throughout the hall. Thus, Mo Lan remained at a safe distance from the figure, speaking firmly, "Sir, the young girl named Qinglin has sustained no injury. As long as you allow the Grand Elder to remain unharmed, the Mo family is ready to fulfill any conditions you propose." Despite Mo Lan's words, the black-robed figure remained unmoved. Under the watchful eyes of the hall's leaders, he slowly advanced toward Mo Cheng, his quiet, cold resolve casting a lingering chill throughout the hall. Gazing at the black-robed figure who had never even acknowledged him, Mo Lan smiled bitterly. Under such overwhelming strength, he had no choice but to abandon his hopes of rescuing his brother. Though deeply disheartened, he only prayed that this particularly ruthless Duohuang powerhouse, after slaying Mo Cheng, would not pursue further measures to eliminate the Mo family—otherwise, the Mo family might truly fall from a top-tier force to a mere mid-tier one. Seeming to sense the black-robed figure's unwavering intent to kill him, Mo Cheng ceased his futile pleas of mercy, instead glaring at him with bitter resentment as he slowly approached. Suddenly, his only left arm began to subtly twitch. "Want to kill me? Then you'll have to leave me with a few scars!" With a fierce smile, Mo Cheng curled his body and suddenly shook his left arm with a powerful internal force, sending his sleeve flying in shreds. The exposed arm revealed veins that surged like small serpents, constantly pulsing. His palm, too, unexpectedly broadened significantly, and his normally healthy fingernails swelled by half an inch, turning an astonishingly deep black. At this point, Mo Cheng's arm had completely transcended the typical human form, resembling instead the limbs of a mythical beast. A faint red hue gradually rose within the arm, and soon, the entire limb turned a vibrant crimson, appearing as if it were a blazing flame. "The 'Mountain-Crushing Arm'? Has Elder Brother actually transplanted the forelimbs of the five-tier mythical beast, the Fiery Mountain-Crushing Rhinoceros, which the family has treasured for generations, onto his own body?" The core senior executives of the Mo family could hardly contain their astonishment, gasping in unison as they gazed at Mo Cheng's remarkably broadened arm. Staring in shock at Mu Cheng's arm, Mu Lan couldn't help but twitch at the corners of his mouth. This, the family's most treasured possession, had been quietly claimed and privately held by Mu Cheng himself—something that deeply angered him as the head of the household. "Die!" he snarled, fixing the black-robed figure with venomous eyes. With a powerful heel strike against the support pillar behind him, Mu Cheng bent his knees and launched himself forward like a cannonball, straight toward the black-robed man. As he surged forward, the large palm of Mu Cheng dragged across the floor, and his sharp fingers tore through the solid surface, creating five deep furrows. Witnessing the sudden, formidable strength displayed by Mu Cheng, the guests in the hall exchanged glances, their expressions shifting. While some of them had heard that the Mu family could transplant the limbs of mythical beasts to replace their original organs, they had never seen firsthand just how dramatically such a transformation could alter a person. Standing still, the cloaked figure gazed at Mo Cheng, whose eyes had turned crimson and were streaked with blood vessels, and murmured a cold laugh. "Poor thing. It seems that even as you gained the power of the beast, your spirit has been gradually eroded by its primal nature. Perhaps the greatest achievement of your so-called transplantation is simply transforming a human into a mere killing machine—a beast that knows nothing but slaughter." "Scum! Die!" Mo Cheng's face contorted in rage, his eyes blazing. With a fierce stride, he planted his feet firmly into the ground and surged forward, his massive hands sweeping powerfully toward the cloaked figure's head. As his palms swung, the very air around them was crushed by the overwhelming force, producing a sharp sonic boom. At the point where the cloaked figure stood, the solid floor began to crack and splinter under the immense pressure of that force. Sensing the surging power rushing toward him from above, the cloaked figure slowly lifted his gaze, revealing his clear, refined face clearly into the sight of Mo Cheng, whose eyes now burned with crimson. Even now, his spirit is in a state of furious turmoil, yet upon seeing the young, clear face of the black-robed figure—so fresh and youthful as though that of a youth—unbelievable shock still stirs within the crimson depths of Mo Cheng's eyes. "It's over..." The refined face, expressionless, gazes at Mo Cheng, who is stunned, as his hand slowly lifts. Upon it, slender, pale flames gently ripple, then burst forth like a jet from a fire hose. The somber, pale flames surge across the sky, enveloping Mo Cheng completely. Under all eyes, the pale ice layer suddenly emerges from Mo Cheng's body surface, swiftly forming a lifelike ice sculpture that fully encases him within mere moments. Bone spirit cold flame—a blend of extreme heat and extreme cold. When intensely hot, it consumes all things; when intensely cold, it freezes the earth. Below, ice sculptures drift downward, lifeless, still bearing traces of the terror and ferocity etched upon them at the moment of death.