In the quiet restaurant, everyone was still immersed in a state of weak, trembling apprehension when suddenly the young man with white hair appeared. They were first startled, then gradually came to their senses. This is the Master of Pure Yang, isn't it? "The Master of Pure Yang has arrived—we're all going to die now!" Liu Zhiyi rolled and crawled to safety behind the group, too weak even to stand. The others likewise looked pale. Though they were not officials of the stars nor night-wanderers, Yuan Shi Tian Zun and Liu Zhiyi had previously mentioned that the Master of Pure Yang was fierce and unrelenting, unconstrained by moral or reputation values. He would surely not spare them. Yin Ji and Ling Jun were deeply alarmed. Yin Ji staggered forward, her beautiful eyes filled with urgent concern, as if eager to assist Yuan Shi Tian Zun. Ling Jun, on the other hand, rolled and crawled, his young nobleman's face pale, his expression growing stern—he seemed to sense the fate that awaited Yuan Shi Tian Zun. "By the gods, if you dare take over his body, I'll wipe you out—wipe you out from end to end, from horizon to horizon!" Ling Jun roared, like a furious lion. Yet he was too weak—just revived from death, and under the female witch's potion that sapped his strength—lacking even the strength to rise. Miao Teng'er clutched her cousin tightly, preventing him from going to his death. The Master of Pure Yang paid no heed to Ling Jun's threats, his eyes blazing with quiet madness, fixed on the wobbly arrival of Yin Ji. With a smile, he murmured a voice only the Night-Wanderer could hear: "Don't worry. Once I've swallowed this young man, you'll be next." Yin Ji's Yin energy and Celestial energy were far more profound and powerful than those of Yuan Shi Tian Zun. Indeed, precisely because of this, her strength was so great that directly consuming her might well prove disastrous. Now, with the upper hand firmly secured, he needed to proceed steadily—first devour Yuan Shi Tian Zun, then take on the young woman—thus ensuring absolute security. With that, he gracefully raised his sleeve, lifted his hand, and With a flick of her finger, the spiritual scroll shot forth and struck the black-dressed beauty who had staggered in. Yin Ji gasped, her body soft and weak, collapsing to the ground—her pupils diffused, and she lost consciousness. Her spiritual essence and the power of the Yin were sealed; with her already frail body, this new blow only compounded her condition. The Master of the Yang School paid no further attention to her, turning his focus back to the Primordial Sovereign, his smile now wild and ecstatic: "Didn't you think so? I've been hidden within the dog's dreams, didn't you believe I had taken over one of the inhabitants here? No—since the beginning, I've used the Dream Pearl to enter the dog's dreams. You all are simply too slow! Hahahaha…" Zhang Yuanqing sat cross-legged on the ground, sighed, and said: "I guessed it, but too late. I remember that the ability to create dreams is something only the sages possess, and you certainly haven't reached that level yet." Yet, upon seeing the pearl containing countless dream scenes, he suddenly understood everything. Among the illusionary practitioners the Pure Yang Sect master eliminated, there were certainly individuals of high standing—possibly a descendant of a senior figure from the Void Sect, or perhaps one of their top prodigies. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to possess a vessel endowed with the characteristics of a Saint. "So you were able to vanish silently from Yan'er's body—not through your spirit fleeing, but through dream-jumping?" Zhang Yuanqing asked. "Exactly!" The Pure Yang Sect master stood with his hands behind his back, his expression wildly mad and evil, yet exuding remarkable composure. "I see now that I must die. But before I go, I have a few questions—I'd like to die with clarity. Was this artifact something you found?" Zhang Yuanqing tried to buy time. "Indeed," he nodded gently, then with growing enthusiasm: "That's what it means to be blessed by the heavens—when one has attained enlightenment." The head of the Slaying Pen Sect has killed me... Zhang Yuanqing asked, "You're not a traveler of the Spiritual Realm, yet you managed to preserve this artifact. Perhaps you don't know, but there's a Human Immortal currently searching for it." "He looked extremely weary, taking a deep breath with every sentence he spoke." "The spiritual cultivators among you simply don't understand what a divine artifact is. A divine artifact only releases its spiritual energy when it's in use; when idle, even a minor spell is sufficient to conceal its presence." The Pure Yang Master spoke with unmistakable condescension. In his eyes, the rapidly trained spiritual cultivators were utterly unworthy of being compared to himself, who had devoted decades to rigorous cultivation. "Ah, now I understand!" Zhang Yuanqing suddenly realized. As he spoke, his mind raced, searching for a way to survive. Right now, the most urgent task was to endure his current state of weakness and enter the next phase of safety—only then could he launch a counterattack against the Pure Yang Master. The Yin-Yang robe was certainly out of the question. It served as an invaluable asset against physical attackers, but it would be a death sentence against illusionists and the Night Wandering Deity, as the water and fire dual forms would split his spiritual essence, weakening it significantly. The military spirit aura can withstand a few blows—it is currently our only reliance. "Then, if there's no more doubt, let us die." The master of the Pure Yang Sect suddenly flared his robe, the vast power of the Yin Dynasty surging forth like a tidal wave, pressing directly toward Zhang Yuanqing. "Wait—there's still something I'd like to say..." Zhang Yuanqing hurried to interject. The master of the Pure Yang Sect sneered, "Still trying to delay? All that small talk I've given you was merely waiting for you to summon your Fengmo Staff. But it seems you've lost it—my esteemed disciple must have retrieved it. Once I've drained your spiritual energy, and then I'll feast on your daughter, I'll surely hold her accountable at some point." With those words, he surged forward, the wave of Yin power crashing like a sea tide. Zhang Yuanqing swiftly rolled backward, simultaneously pulling on a pair of plain running shoes bearing no logo, and, while still rolling, managed to crouch down, then deliberately slid forward toward the master of the Pure Yang Sect. They passed each other, their paths intersecting. The Pure Yang Master gracefully turned, the Yin energy gently drifting behind him. He stared in astonishment at Yuan Shi Tian Zun, then fixed his gaze on the young man's running shoes, and coldly remarked, "Young lad, the more artifacts you have, the happier I am—every one of them is mine." With a sudden, powerful lunge, the Pure Yang Master surged forward, carrying a strong surge of Yin energy, colliding once again with Zhang Yuanqing. "Thereupon, he once again harnessed the power of the Yin Moon and charged directly at Yuan-Shi Tianzun, this time encountering no resistance and successfully penetrating into the young prodigy's body. Zhang Yuanqing's awareness erupted with a thunderous roar, his mind wracked with intense pain, as though steel spikes had pierced his heavenly crown. In an instant, he felt a surge of profound Yin and malevolent spiritual force, interwoven with vast and chaotic thoughts, flooding his consciousness. This powerful spiritual force aggressively invaded and consumed his fragile spiritual essence, causing the celestial and Yin energies within him to surge forth like a flood breaking through dam walls, flowing steadily out of his body. How formidable! His skill in devouring spiritual essence far surpasses mine... Zhang Yuanqing's sense of crisis exploded. While simultaneously employing his techniques to resist the spiritual consumption, he launched relentless attacks of golden facial aura to strike at the pure Yang Master's spirit. Without hesitation, he delivered three consecutive spiritual assaults, continuously hammering upon the pure Yang Master's immortal consciousness. "Ah…" A piercing, heart-wrenching cry erupted in his mind, as if the spiritual force that had nearly seized control of his consciousness had suffered a devastating blow and receded like a tide. Was it over? Was he this weak? Zhang Yuanqing felt a surge of relief. With the space once occupied by his consciousness now reclaimed, his awareness swiftly returned. The scene in the restaurant once again came into focus—Ling Jun's urgent calls behind him, and the Pure Yang Master standing aloft before him, his face filled with cold disdain. He had no more cards left... Zhang Yuanqing felt a wave of despair rising within him. His last two assets—the sliding cleat boots and the military spirit mask—were now under strain. The female witch's weakening condition had not improved; in fact, the toxicity was growing stronger, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. His strategy of delaying had also failed. There was no path forward anymore... In the midst of this despair, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly remembered the black full moon on his character card, an item left behind by the Magus King. According to his performance in the battle arena, it clearly possessed a sense of self-awareness, not merely a mere treasure. A bold idea emerged in his mind. Haven't I always wanted to find out whether the character card itself holds any hidden risks? Haven't I always feared that the Magus King might not have truly perished? Could I not use the Master of Pure Yang to test this myself? If I were to die, the character card would return to the spiritual realm—or perhaps fall into the hands of a powerful ancient cultivator. If the character card given to me by Bingge presented no vulnerabilities, then I'd simply die—fate or not—since I was already at my wits' end. But if, indeed, the character card carries the vulnerabilities I've suspected, would it simply watch helplessly as it were claimed by the Master of Pure Yang? With no other options, he would first leverage the endurance of the blue-faced one to withstand the pressure, and if that failed, he'd have to accept whatever came next. Just as this pessimistic thought passed through Zhang Yuancheng's mind, he saw the Master of Pure Yang suddenly driven into a frenzy, rushing forward with intense excitement. Without resistance, he quietly activated the blue-faced one. The weary gaze brightened, and his spirit lifted. Yet this surge of strength born in the midst of crisis—like a final burst of life—was only just beginning to take hold when it was immediately dispersed by a flood of overwhelming negative emotions flooding his spirit. Zhang Yuancheng's mind went blank, and he lost consciousness instantly. He had never encountered such a powerful negative energy in a spiritual form—evil, wild, chaotic—seeming to condense within that very spirit all the world's negative emotions. Compared to the pure yang master, the negative energy of the evil professions was merely a minor disturbance. After a brief lapse of consciousness, Zhang Yuanqing was instantly awakened by pain—his soul erupted in shrieks and cries. He was being displaced, his spiritual essence being gradually consumed. The agony of this soul-tearing pain surpassed any physical suffering. Within his mind's realm, two streams of spiritual energy fiercely contested, the darker, smoky one relentlessly gripping a delicate, faint spiritual body, slowly drawing it into itself. "Hm, you're a scattered-soul practitioner—your soul has long since fragmented into pieces. You should have perished long ago. Who restored your soul?" The pure yang master, savoring this unusual delicacy, remarked as he chewed. "Wait—your soul seems amiss. You're…?" Suddenly, high above the mind's realm, a black, full moon rose slowly, interrupting the master's murmurs. A gentle, bright beam of moonlight enveloped the spiritual form of Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun. In an instant, the mighty Luminous Yin energy surged into the spirit body with an unstoppable force. The frail spirit body suddenly expanded, instantly suppressing the one emitting black mist and concentrated negative emotions, and continued to grow, its clear, radiant light beginning to reverse and engulf the surrounding. It swallowed one-third of the spirit body of the Pure Yang Master in a single breath. "Ah—" This cry was genuine. The Pure Yang Master had been caught off guard, experiencing the agony of his soul being torn apart. "This power—how is this possible? How can you possess the power of a Human Immortal?" Within the consciousness, the spirit body emitting black mist was gradually being consumed, its situation reversing. Yet at that very moment, it suddenly severed itself, voluntarily sacrificing part of its spirit essence. Then it swiftly withdrew from the consciousness, retreating in disarray, like a family fleeing from disaster. In the dining hall, the Pure Yang Master surged out from Zhang Yuanqing's brow, extending over fifteen meters, then gracefully turned around, staring at Zhang Yuanqing with a mixture of fear and eager anticipation. "The power of a Human Immortal, the power of a Human Immortal..." His body had dimmed significantly, the vast flow of Yin energy diluted and weakened. His expression twisted—yearning to surge back into his consciousness, yet fearful to advance. Had he not promptly activated the Divided Soul Technique, sacrificing a portion of his spirit earlier, he would have been completely consumed now. At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing stood motionless, stunned, absorbing and integrating the soul essence of the Pure Yang Master. While the Pure Yang Master hesitated, Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes—one eye clear and bright, the other wild and strange, both virtues and vices manifesting on his face. Though his gaze still appeared vacant, as though his awareness had not yet fully returned, his vital energy surged powerfully, overcoming his frailty and gradually reclaiming his status as a Saint. "Foul!" Seeing this, the Pure Yang Master made no hesitation, gathering the two artifacts from the floor and swiftly passing through the wall. As the disk was withdrawn, the ethereal table, dice, and information projections in the restaurant vanished simultaneously. The seal enveloping the restaurant outside dissolved. After about ten seconds, Zhang Yuanqing regained consciousness. Without hesitation, he immediately took the ghost mirror and held it tightly—only just managing to suppress the surging impurities, murderous intent, and destructive impulses within his chest. A few seconds later, these forces surged again. The impurities of the Pure Yang Master were too strong, even the ghost mirror could not fully contain them. What exactly was the Pure Yang Master’s spiritual form? Truly mad! Zhang Yuanqing unconsciously lifted the corner of his left lip, complementing the wild, chaotic state in his left eye. After absorbing the spiritual essence of the Pure Yang Master, he passively acquired numerous spells—such as the spatial incantation technique used to control Yin Ji just now, the illusion construction techniques, the spirit-consuming techniques, and others. Among these were also certain combat techniques from the Star Officials. It was as if he had received a formal transmission of teachings. The power of a human immortal—was that black circular moon the power of a human immortal? Hm, the gains were indeed substantial. The soul has dispersed? I should have died already? Who stitched my soul together... He murmured for several seconds, then turned, gazing at the guests—still stunned, bewildered yet filled with a mixture of joy. They had witnessed the Pure Yang Master's flight and the secret I carried—this could no longer be concealed. Should I come up with an excuse to deflect, or eliminate them outright? Eliminate them—after all, they were just insects. Zhang Yuanqing's thoughts were in turmoil. With a crooked, eerie, manic smile, he raised his left lip toward the guests: "Everyone, please call the Songhai branch—while I can still hold on." This appearance of madness sent a chill through the guests, who were gradually recovering from their frailty and had just escaped death. Zhang Yuanqing then pressed his forehead with a sudden pain, his kindness and sense of reason prevailing. He walked over to Yin Ji and knelt beside her, examining her carefully, confirming that she was merely unconscious. Relieved, he breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze lingered on her long lashes, her refined brow, and her delicate, fair skin. Below that, a black veil covered half her face. A curious thought surged: just how beautiful was this woman—to warrant the魔君's enduring admiration? Upon reflecting on this, his ill will regained the upper hand. He curled the corner of his left lip, grasped the veil at her face, and pulled it roughly off.