"Can't see it anymore? How could it not be visible..." Zhang Yuanqing furrowed his brows. The others nearby, Yun Meng, Xia Shu Zhi Lian, and so on, immediately grew serious, shifting their gaze from the imperial palace gate and turning to Yin Ji. "It just vanished suddenly," Yin Ji said softly, then quickly repeated to Hong Ji Ge, in a hurried tone, "Return." He didn't pause, decisively tucked away his backpack. But even before he could return to his teammates, a sudden glimpse out the corner of his eye caught a series of damp footprints—leading from inside the palace, across the stone path, to the door, and now right before him. What was that? Red Chicken's pupils narrowed slightly. He set aside further thought, relying instead on his natural combat instincts as a fire master and his keen sense of danger. He sank both knees, bent his back, assuming the ready stance of a sprinter. A sharp "hisss" sounded as flames erupted from his palms, coalescing into a flaming spear. The flame at the spear's tip condensed into a single point, radiating a brilliant glow. He grasped the spear shaft with his hands, then propelled his knees forward, straightening his body and driving the spear forward. "Boom!" The spear's nearly white tip struck something, sending a dense shower of sparks flying. A human-like silhouette emerged—a young boy about 1.3 meters tall, his body and cheeks covered in dark, iridescent scales, with pale, eerie white eyes that seemed hauntingly ominous. His lips were black, and his sharp, white fangs protruded prominently. Most striking was the infant's head growing out of his shoulders, eyes closed as if asleep, delicate and charming—forming a sharp contrast to the fierce, grim expression of his main head. Dripping droplets of water seeped from the gaps in his scales, flowing down his eyes and onto the ground, as though he had just been drenched in a heavy rain. These droplets revealed his footprints, alerting Red Chicken Brother to his presence earlier. As the young emperor blinked, he lowered his gaze to the blazing lance pressing against his chest, momentarily stunned, unsure of how he had been discovered. "Huh-huh~" he exhaled, roaring in anger, as streams of Taiyin energy surged from his dark, open mouth. Then, he raised his hand and deliberately grasped the flaming lance. "Hiss… hiss…" A steady stream of water surged from the young emperor's palms, quenching the flame-like projectiles that seemed tangible. Raising his white pupils, he fixed a stern, unwavering gaze upon his opponent, his black, sharp claws extending forward. Red Chicken Brother felt a sudden jolt of unease, his body hairs instantly standing on end, a wave of intense fear rising within him—only to be instantly transformed into a roaring fury. "Die!" he roared, his face contorted with rage. With a thunderous "boom," an endless surge of flame erupted from within him, spewing forth from every pore of his body. The intense heat evaporated moisture on the young emperor's skin, sending a mist of vapor rising. In an instant, Red Chicken Brother's breath surged to double its former strength. He swung his fist, wreathed in flame, propelled forward by the power of his back muscles, delivering a sudden, powerful strike. "Crash!" The ghostly claws met the fist. The flames encircling Red Chicken Brother's fist instantly fizzled out. The onlookers clearly saw his right shoulder split open, white, blood-streaked bone fragments bursting through the flesh. A Level 4 Fire Demon, enraged and activating its Fury skill, delivered a decisive blow that rendered it incapacitated. Crisp, hurried footsteps echoed—just in time, Yin Ji's two Yin Corpses arrived. The female Corpse seized Red Chicken Brother's left shoulder, hurling him backward. The male Corpse leaped into the air, delivering a powerful knee strike that sent the young emperor sprawling back into the palace. The female Corpse followed swiftly. Crack! Crack! Crack! A series of sharp splintering sounds followed as the male and female Corpses unleashed a torrent of punches, elbows, knees, and legs upon the young emperor. With immense strength and refined combat techniques, the two Corpses pressed the young emperor relentlessly, forcing him to retreat step by step, his body scales shattering and flying off. In contrast, the young emperor, though strong in raw power, lacked finesse. Each time he roared and launched a counterattack, the male and female Corpses either evaded or dismantled his efforts, easily neutralizing them. The three Yin entities' footprints on the jade stone slabs cracked and sank deeply, leaving behind a scattered array of uneven imprints. These two shadow corpses failed to make a real impact underwater, yet now, facing a stronger boss, they charge with astonishing ferocity. "Come on, everyone—follow me!" Seeing the situation looking promising, Xiahou Aotian grabbed a hand-bow from his inventory, raised his arms with commanding presence, and charged straight toward the palace. While Yunmeng tended to Red Chicken's injuries, the others formed a group and rushed toward the palace. At that moment, the young emperor roared in fury, his body scales suddenly expanding. Instantly, a thin layer of white mist condensed in the surrounding air, seeping through the gaps of his open scales. The damp earth hardened quickly, the green grass turned dry and yellow, and the bodies of the male and female shadow corpses instantly stiffened— their skin wrinkled, their muscles shriveled. Within just a few seconds, all the moisture inside the two corpses was completely extracted, transforming them into mummified remains. The young emperor waved his arms in rage, and with a solid "thud," the male and female dry corpses shattered into fragments, brittle as dried wood. Two high-quality shadow corpses were lost within the instance. Upon witnessing this, the group who had already reached the palace gates quietly retreated. Xiahou Aotian ran the farthest. Free Eagle escaped to the original spot at a pace not far behind, eyes filled with apprehension, his voice trembling: "The Dehydrator—it's a Level 6 Plague God?" "If he pursues relentlessly, then we'll fight our way back." As soon as she finished speaking, Xia Shu Zhilan's eyes flickered, catching the subtle shifts within the imperial palace and promptly remarked, "It's gone!" Hearing this, everyone stiffened, adjusting their positions to focus on the palace interior—there was indeed no trace of the young emperor. He's practicing his night-wandering skill once again. Yun Meng swiftly pushed aside Hong Ji, interrupting her healing treatment, and placed her palms firmly on the ground. A ripple of green light spread outward, causing tender grass to burst forth, growing steadily until it reached the steps leading to the palace entrance. She was well familiar with the characteristics of the "night-wandering" ability and was attempting to pinpoint the young emperor's location through the changes in the grass. Yet, the young green grass stood upright, pristine and still, with no movement in the surrounding area. Zhang Yuanqing and the others remained alert, scanning both the grass and the movements of the tree branches. At that moment, Yun Meng noticed a pair of footprints abruptly appearing just three feet in front of her—deeply embedded in the ground, while no other footprints were visible elsewhere. The owner of the footprints seemed to have materialized right before her. Yun Meng quickly realized it wasn’t the footprints that appeared out of nowhere—rather, the young emperor had leaped straight out from the imperial pavilion. He had descended from the heavens. "Crack!" A sharp, urgent sound of bowstring resonance rang out as Xia Hou Ao Tian shot an arrow toward the side ahead. The arrow struck something in midair, splashing sparks and bouncing away. As the young emperor emerged, his sharp claws plunged toward Yun Meng. Though Xia Hou’s arrow had disrupted the night procession, it could not save Yun Meng. Yun Meng blinked, seeing a dark, sharp claw aimed directly at her face—less than three centimeters from her eyes. In the next instant, she would be pierced and fall. Yet suddenly, her head arched back as if struck by a staff on the crown of her head, just narrowly avoiding the ghostly claw. It was the agility of the wood spirit that saved her life at the crucial moment. Then, as she leaned back, her center of gravity shifted and she quickly collapsed, rolling sideways. The young emperor, whose surprise attack had failed, let out a frustrated roar. His scales stood rigidly erect, and dense white mist immediately formed in the surrounding air, seeping thread by thread into the gaps between his scales. The plants around him rapidly turned yellow and lost their moisture. As she rolled, Yunmeng's body stiffened, and she curled up in pain. Her skin quickly dried out and wrinkled, her cheeks hollowed, and within just a few breaths, she appeared decades older. This was the wrinkling and drying caused by moisture loss. The same phenomenon occurred in Zhang Yuanqing and others; Frey the Free Eagle and Yin Ji were slightly more supple compared to the others. Frey, being a water spirit with water-controlling abilities, could slow down her own moisture loss, while Yin Ji, due to her higher rank, possessed a certain degree of immunity. Xiahou Aotian turned to run, but his legs, now thin as bamboo poles, could no longer bear his weight. As soon as he took a step, he crashed to the ground with a pained groan. But he didn't give up, believing his teammates wouldn't be so easily defeated by the boss. "Primordial Heavenly Sovereign, let's coordinate!" Yin Ji's dry lips parted slightly, spewing out a long, flowing stream of Taiyin energy, with several dozen spiritual attendants swirling around her like gusts of wind. Then, she closed her eyes and entered a state of divine meditation. A graceful figure in a black gown rose from the top of her head, opened her mouth, and swallowed the attendants whole. Instantly, a dark crescent moon appeared on the forehead of Yin Ji's spiritual form, black mist radiating from her eyesockets, and her fair, porcelain hands transformed into sharp, black talons. At this moment, she radiated the aura of a goddess from the Underworld—deep, dark, solemn, yet noble. Her spiritual form swept through the void, her gown billowing, landing gently atop the young emperor's head. With hands of pale skin and blackened nails, resembling sharp talons, she suddenly enveloped the young emperor's head. The young emperor froze instantly, his once bright, fierce eyes now dull and lifeless. With a sudden lift of her hand, Yin Ji forcibly pulled a shimmering spiritual form from the top of her head—its face blurred, fierce, and wild. As soon as this twisted, violent spirit detached itself from her body, it quickly sank downward, striving to return to her flesh. Yin Ji’s five fingers, curled like claws, trembled slightly, as though struggling to maintain her stance. Without needing any reminder from Yin Ji, Zhang Yuanqing knew exactly what to do. He drew forth the Fumagong杵 and called out: “Xia Shu, break through the armor!” Yin Ji released her grip, allowing the spirit to return to its physical form. A magnificent golden light surged forth. From the dark, glossy lips of the young emperor, golden light erupted from his nasal passages and eyes. He managed only a fierce, resentful roar before collapsing backward, his body lifted by a rising plume of black smoke. "Dead?" Xia Shu Zhi Lian shook her short sword, the blade now stained with a murky black liquid that emitted a foul odor and carried potent toxicity. "That's it? Really, not much more than that," Red Chicken Brother licked the dry, cracked corners of his lips, beaming with satisfaction. "Perfect! Now I can finally go home and enjoy my soup." The other three teammates also looked delighted. They had not expected the Fumagong Staff held by Yuan Shi Tian Zun to be so powerful—even this formidable boss could not withstand its brilliance. "Congratulations to all of you for completing the S-tier raid," Free Eagle blew a whistle. Zhang Yuanqing furrowed his brows, examining the body at his feet, a question flashing through his mind: With the Fumigation Staff's special ability to destroy阴 (yin) entities, the young emperor should have perished without a doubt. Yet why hadn't he turned to ash, like the dry corpses from the slaughter quest? Moreover, where were the Shieh family's artifacts? As he pondered, his gaze fell upon the shoulder of the charred body, where a subtle clue emerged. Under the intense heat of the Sun God's power, the body had nearly carbonized, yet the infant's head on the right shoulder remained intact—still closed-eyed and peacefully asleep, which was highly unusual. Unless, this infant head did not belong to the young emperor at all. "Yuanshi!" Xia Shu-zhi-lan called out, pointing her sword at the infant head. Zhang Yuanqing had noticed this detail; as a swordsman, she surely hadn't missed it either. Zhang Yuanqing nodded, then knelt down, reaching out to touch the infant's head. As Zhang Yuanqing's fingers were about to touch the infant's cheek, the baby suddenly opened its eyes—deep, clear, and pure, yet devoid of any luminous glow, fixed straightly upon him. Zhang Yuanqing was caught off guard, his fingers trembling. "Wah!" the infant cried out. "Wah! Wah! Wah…" The cries echoed repeatedly. A terrifying scene unfolded—the once-burned emperor, now reduced to charcoal, began to twitch. New scales pushed open the carbonized old ones. The once lifeless, pale eyes now glowed with fierce intensity. Blood and flesh surged and regenerated at the scorched areas, mending the wounds. Though it was a lifeless spirit, its flesh moved and grew as if it were a living person. "It's coming back to life! Wow! It's coming back to life!" Red Chicken Brother shouted. "Shut up! I know!" Zhang Yuanqing was both stunned and furious, raising his anti-magic staff high, ready to act. Suddenly, a sharp pain surged through his abdomen, blinding him momentarily, his legs shook, and cold sweat broke out all over his body. What was happening? Looking down, he saw his abdomen rapidly swelling and rising high, as if a pregnant woman in her sixth or seventh month of pregnancy… Zhang Yuanqing went black again. Behind him, muffled gasps and cries of pain followed one after another. He braced himself against his lower back, turned around, and saw that his teammates' abdomens were also swelling—larger than his own. "Waah! Waah! Waah…" Alongside the cries of newborns, the rounded surfaces of these swollen bellies occasionally pushed out tiny hands or pressed forward small heads, as though the infants inside were about to burst through the skin. Red Chicken Brother collapsed to the ground, clutching his belly, shouting, "Crap! Crap! Crap! I'm pregnant?! What in the world is going on?" "No, this isn't the treatment a protagonist should receive!" Summer Hou Aotian lay on his side, pressing his hands against the swollen abdomen, emitting a desperate cry. Yin Ji, Summer Shu Zhi Lian, Free Eagle, and Yun Meng—all four women—were pale as ghosts, unable to accept the reality of their own pregnancies. Treatment, nurturing... these are the capabilities of a musician's profession—this infant's head is precisely the component of the Xie family's rule-type artifact. Zhang Yuanqing now understands the nature of the Xie family's rule-type artifacts' abilities. Yet he would rather never fully comprehend them. At that moment, he witnesses the young emperor rising from death, straightening up, his fierce white eyes fixed upon himself. Without hesitation, Zhang Yuanqing's body immediately transforms into a dreamlike cascade of starlight, vanishing from his original spot. Moments later, he stumbles into view several meters away. The Star-Flight technique is forcibly interrupted. Even worse, Zhang Yuanqing discovers that he has lost all the skills of the Star Official, his level plummeting from 4 to 3—this is precisely why the Star-Flight technique has failed. His strength has been drained away by the fetus within him. As soon as Zhang Yuanqing's form reappears, the small emperor, now pale and dark-blue in hue, rushes forward with eager determination, his eyes fixed solely on this very foe who has slain him. For heaven's sake, you go kill Xiahou Aotian! What are you chasing me for? Zhang Yuqing's face went pale. His condition was dire—he had been demoted, and his unborn child was steadily siphoning away his strength, accompanied by intense abdominal pain. Moreover, carrying such a large belly made combat extremely difficult. How could a transcendent body possibly fight a level-6 monster? There was no doubt that the young emperor could rip him apart in a single second, without even needing to use any skills. A sense of crisis exploded within him, and he hurriedly retreated—though this only bought him a few extra seconds. With adrenaline surging, he anxiously pondered his chances of survival. At that moment, the blood rosebush nearby caught his attention. A beautifully featured undead stood beneath the shade, poised and still, her abdomen smooth and taut, unaffected by the infant's cries. As a living corpse, was she immune to the cries? Zhang Yuqing immediately activated his Night Stroll, concealing his form, and then charged toward the blood rosebush, braving his large belly. He opened his inventory, retrieved a pair of plain black running shoes without a logo, and a thin, delicate human skin, which he flung toward the blood lotus. At the same time, he endured the pain, channeling a portion of his spiritual energy to communicate with the imprint in his consciousness and take control of the blood lotus's body. The flawless human skin swiftly adhered to the blood lotus's face and began to melt. Soon, the refined-looking shade transformed into the appearance of Zhang Yuanqing. Wow... The infant's vibrant cry gradually faded, eventually silenced. Zhang Yuanqing, his belly swollen, leaned against a tree, breathing heavily in deep, steady puffs. After the cries ceased, the fetus within him seemed to lose its vitality, no longer attempting to push through the womb, and instead began returning strength. It appeared that the cry itself was the very source of life—when a fetus remained immersed in constant crying, it would eventually break through the amniotic sac, possibly even downgrading in status. Indeed, the rules governing musicians' class items were quite daunting. As strength slowly returned, Zhang Yuanqing felt a profound sense of relief. Leaning against the trunk, he glanced at his teammates' conditions. Yin Ji supported herself with one hand on the trunk while the other strained to hold her belly, standing with difficulty. Yun Meng sat cross-legged on the ground, carefully observing her abdomen. Xia Shu Zhi Lian held her short sword, constantly gesturing at the rising belly. "Hmm, it's still still—feeling like strength is returning," Red Chicken Brother扇ed his belly with one palm after another. Xiaohou Aotian looked utterly withdrawn, as if deeply embarrassed—being the protagonist, to have a child born with monster traits was not just a setback, but a true source of shame. If only he had his phone right now... Zhang Yuanqing found himself thinking this unconsciously. He quickly cleared away the distractions, his expression now serious and resolute. "Ladies and gentlemen, we haven't even made contact with the crisis yet. My shadow corpse can only last five minutes. I've now gained a solid understanding of the boss's abilities. It's time to revise our strategy—whether we go for total elimination or secure victory—will be decided in five minutes."