Ghosts are everywhere, and so are the spectral corpses. The world is saturated with阴 qi, devoid of any living breath—like stepping into a realm of the departed. The plump young man, a master of illusion magic, has never entered a night-wanderer's quest, never witnessed such a scene. His calf muscles involuntarily spasm, his lips trembling slightly. In this eerie, haunting world, with pale, ghostly faces and countless spectral corpses lining the streets—any Fourth-Class Sovereign would feel fear. Except the Fire Sovereign. The Dark Night Rose senses that the official forces are fishing for a reaction, so she plays along? The Prime Sovereign has tricked me. Amid his fear, the young man also grasps the core of the issue. "To consume me as a Sovereign doesn't require such a grand display." His inner outlook grows more pessimistic, believing that both the Southern School and the official forces have been outwitted by the Dark Night Rose. "Ah... ah..." A sharp, mournful flute melody rises from among the towering skyscrapers, echoing through the night. The ghostly face frozen by the window, the shadowy corpses standing motionless by the street—upon hearing the flute’s melody, they suddenly came to life. The former surged through the glass, transforming into a sweeping gust of mournful wind. The latter emitted low, guttural growls, like the undead rushing forward in eager, relentless waves. The plump young man felt a deep chill, fear flashing across his eyes. As a master of illusion magic, he was already overwhelmed by so many restless spirits, let alone the undead corpses. Moreover, these spirits and corpses were of exceptionally high quality—and they kept pouring out from the buildings all around, in an unceasing stream. Countless. "Helpless... helplessness..." he thought, utterly despairing, "This is even more terrifying than a Tier-S special quest." At that moment, a brilliant golden sun rose in the sky. Its pure, radiant light dispelled the darkness. Under the golden glow, the drifting spirits and the densely packed undead began to hiss and rise in wisps of pale mist. The weaker spirits and creatures simply dissolved into vapor. The sun blazed fiercely, temperatures soaring, and the dense mist that had once shrouded the world now felt noticeably weakened. The reinforcements had arrived... Xiao Fat was both startled and delighted, turning to look back and seeing a group of figures approaching slowly down the long street. Leading them was a young man dressed in snowy white robes, wearing a deep indigo cloak adorned with golden cloud patterns, his short, stylish ponytail adding to his cool, composed charm. To his left stood a graceful, elegant woman, and to his right, a middle-aged man in outdoor hiking attire, his skin darkened by the sun. Behind them came a group of sages, led by Yin Ji. "Master Gao from Hangzhou Branch, Elder Hong Ying from Taiyuan Sect—Fu Qingyang has also come!" Xiao Fat felt a strong sense of security. Some people, when they were seen as enemies, would make you feel afraid. But once they become your allies, you feel utterly at ease. Like Fu Qingyang. As for the elders from the Southern Sect, though not yet seen, the illusionist's constant movement meant that invisibility was the norm. "Hmph!" A cold, sharp exclamation echoed from deep within the towering buildings of Lin Li The very next moment, a long, black arch surged skyward, carrying with it an intense aura of yin energy, colliding directly with the golden sun in the heavens. Boom! Two forces utterly opposed to each other collided and exploded simultaneously. The black light settled on the ground, solidifying into frost. The golden flames landed, creating shallow craters. "An ascendant of the Yin element, a sun-wandering deity," said the Red Ying elder, her expression unchanged, her gaze calmly sweeping over the "army of yin beings." Only those specializing in Yin could counter the power of the sun deity through yin energy—of course, this was also because Red Ying herself was not a specialist in the sun. Only those specializing in Yin could nurture so many lingering spirits and yin corpses. "This is the chief disciple of the Night Rose, the one I faced during the Holy Cup incident," said Fu Qingyang, speaking calmly. With the golden sun's pressure lifted and nourished by the dense yin energy, the lingering spirits and yin corpses quickly recovered, one after another, advancing toward the young fat man, as well as Fu Qingyang and the others. Suddenly, a piercing cry—audible The swirling spirits of resentment all exploded simultaneously, their delicate flute melodies carried through the skyscrapers forcibly interrupted. A mental assault! A senior from the Southern Sect has stepped in. ... Fu Family Village. On the rooftop of a modest villa, night had deepened. He stood by the railing, gazing out into the distance. The celestial patterns of the zodiac filled the sky, brilliant and enigmatic, lofty and serene. Zhang Yuanqing stood there, one hand resting behind him, the other cradling the Great Luo Star Disk. Radiant starlight flowed through his pupils as he lifted his head, observing the heavens. To him, the stars—symbols of transformation—moved swiftly, shifting with the turning of the constellations. "The Night Rose has moved into action... the elder's journey appears uneventful; he should be able to defeat the Pure Yang Master. Wait—given the involvement of the Night Rose, both celestial observation and divination techniques are rendered ineffective. Fortunately, the mediocre Marshal remains stationed at Songhai..." As an accomplished strategist, he must consider the evolving dynamics of each game and manage risks. He also had to ponder what would happen if Fu Qingyang and his companions were completely eliminated by the Night Rose. Although Fu Qingyang, Hong Ying, and Gao Gong—along with the southern sect's elders—are all masterful in wisdom, experience, and strategy, and thus undoubtedly steady, the subtle protection provided by the Night Rose makes them unable to rely on celestial observations or divination techniques to anticipate favorable outcomes or avoid misfortunes. They never anticipate that the very stabilizing force, the White Tiger Marshal, would be lured away by the double-agent, Yuan Shi Tianzun, in collaboration with the King of Fear. Therefore, their plan is not entirely secure, and there remains a possibility of a sudden collapse. As a result, in the negotiations between Zhang Yuanqing and the King of Fear, the female marshal’s support can be delayed by at most two hours. This way, even if Fu Qingyang and the others encounter danger, the female marshal can promptly provide assistance. "Hmm, by now, the King of Fear should have made his move." Everything is under control. The rescue of the Magician's Eye will happen tonight—so he had specially arranged a leave for Jir. After all, once Guan Ya had settled down and then knelt, just one hour had passed. With the Night-Wanderer's boundless energy, a single visit and a single kneeling were clearly insufficient; Guan Ya would need to sit and then stand again, and within just a couple of hours, the time would vanish. Each time she entered the inner realm, the opportunity to rescue the Magician's Eye would slip away. While thinking this, Zhang Yuanqing set aside half of his awareness, entering the识海 to reach the Yin Corpse Seal of the "Hundred-Blade" warrior. The eldritch wood spirit's evasion technique is average, and his speed is likewise ordinary—taking at least twenty minutes to reach even at the dog elder's pace. With twenty minutes, I still have time to rescue the magic eye, so I must lure him step by step, rather than confront him here directly. Zhang Yuanqing thought this over, then looked down at his disguise ring. He intended to impersonate his father as a shade of the deceased. He raised his hand, covering his face with the palm. As waves of soft light flickered, his features rapidly shifted and stabilized into that of a refined, gentle man, in his early thirties. Then, Zhang Yuanqing pulled out his phone and entered the dog elder's phone number. Dense and curled, her lashes resembled two small brushes, framing a pair of pale green eyes—not the typical green of white people, but rather an unusual, almost alien hue. Her eyes were clear and luminous, like the most beautiful gems in the world, with slightly upturned corners that gave her an air of dignified grace. Her appearance and eyes were equally striking: her lips thin, her nose straight, her eyebrows long and straight. She exuded neither gracefulness nor elegance nor a flowing, ethereal charm, but rather a commanding, awe-inspiring authority. Yet, the chocolate ball held in her mouth, the slight puff of her cheeks, and the manga book she was holding—*Doraemon*—gave her authority a certain softness. The pile of manga, romance novels, and inexpensive iced teas on the table further diluted her status as a chief marshal. The female marshal, delightfully savoring her chocolate ball and eagerly flipping through the manga, had her long, sleek boots gently swaying against the edge of the table. She had been visiting the village of Songhai for some time now, officially declaring her retreat to meditate and refine her sword skills, and had not left her small cottage since. Every day, she reads novels, browses comics, drinks milk tea, and eats sweets. She's quite a homebody—after all, living in a cozy apartment is essentially the same as being in a residential fantasy realm or a home-based zoo. A few times, her younger brother, who lacks any special qualifications, visited her, stammering advice: "Your sword energy is too strong; you need to learn to temper your brilliance to advance further." But Fu Qingxuan believed that sword mastery should flow naturally. She had already made significant efforts to ascend to the status of a half-divine being. She didn't want to make further efforts. With a natural approach, she would gradually grasp the art of refining her strength over the next few years. Thus, every time Fu Qingyang stammered on, she would simply place a chocolate ball over his mouth. After a few such instances, Fu Qingyang stopped visiting altogether. Probably, he was quietly criticizing her behind her back—something Fu Qingxuan hadn't anticipated before. Indeed, she hadn't expected her brother to dare to so openly criticize her, especially in front of his subordinates. At that moment, urgent footsteps came from outside the door. Fu Qingxuan quickly opened her inventory, retrieved a jade bowl, and packed all the snacks, drinks, and comic books from the table. Just as she finished, the knock on the door sounded. "Come in!" The elder known as "Yellow Sand Through Hundred Battles," sensing the protective seal outside the room had been lifted, promptly turned the door handle. Pushing open the door, the elder with silvering hair at his temples saw a tall figure standing by the window, arms folded, silently gazing out at the scenery. Her silhouette exuded an imposing dignity that felt suffocating. Unconsciously lowering his head, the elder said, "General, there's been an incident." Fu Qingxuan did not turn around, merely savoring a chocolate ball with a firm, authoritative nasal tone: "Hmm." The elder reported, "The King of Fear has attacked the No. 3 Prison in Pingchuan City and freed all the prisoners, claiming they should be granted their freedom." The spiritual travelers from the local branch rushed to the prison to investigate, only to encounter the King of Fear who remained stationed there—never to emerge again. "General, the colleagues from Pingchuan Branch are still missing, the prisoners have escaped, and if the King of Fear continues to attack other prisons, the situation will surely spiral out of control. Moreover, the staff from Pingchuan Branch are now deeply anxious. "All four Marshals are in the capital. Only you can step in." As a senior officer of the White Tiger army and a master of the art of restoration, even when dealing with half-divine-level warriors, he remained remarkably composed and calm. "Do they still have freedom? Has fear deteriorated to this extent?" the female Marshal spoke with a cold, authoritative tone. "Well, I don't care— I'll take action. Just tell me where Pingchuan City is." "Three hundred kilometers northwest of Songhai," the elder who had fought through countless sands replied, clearly aware of the Marshal's condition. "I've already sent the location to your phone." "Admiral nodded." "Tell the 'Old Man and the Dog' that I'll be out for a while. While I'm away, please transfer the Magic Eye to the deepest part of the zoo." As the words fell, the window glass shattered with a loud *crack*, followed by a deafening sonic boom. Huang Sha Bai Zhan lifted his gaze, and a brilliant blade of light shot straight into the sky, moving as swiftly as a meteor, vanishing in an instant. The Admiral was gone. "What happened?" A gentle voice came from behind. Huang Sha Bai Zhan turned to see a fluffy Teddy dog crouched at the door, its black-button-like eyes fixed on him. "The King of Fear has been causing disturbances in Pingchuan City. The Pingchuan branch has requested assistance from the patrol units, but couldn't reach Fu Qingyang, so they've come to me," Huang Sha Bai Zhan explained. "The King of Fear?" the Dog Elder stepped into the room. "He's been quite active lately. I hope this time the Admiral can give him a good lesson. The Admiral's sword energy isn't something that can be easily dispelled..." He suddenly sniffed. "What scent is that?" "What does it smell like?" Huang Sha Bai Zhan sniffs, but detects nothing. The Dog Elder, meanwhile, draws his nose and circles the room once: "There's a sweet, slightly heavy aroma—like... chocolate?" Huang Sha Bai Zhan looks at him with a look of sheer disbelief. "How can there be chocolate in the General's room?" "...Perhaps I've mistaken the scent?" The Dog Elder himself finds it hard to believe. He doesn't dwell on the matter, and speaks steadily: "I'm concerned about why the King of Fear is causing disturbances now." Huang Sha Bai Zhan reflects: "You're worried about Fu Qingyang?" The Dog Elder nods. "If the General is overwhelmed by fear, and if something unexpected happens in Jinshan City, she'll certainly be unable to make it back in time." "Rest assured," Huang Sha Bai Zhan says, "with so many Sovereigns present, as long as no Half-Deity is involved, there shouldn't be any major issues." "Yellow Sand, after a chuckle, said, 'Even should we encounter a half-divine being, Elder Peak still has a rule-based artifact—something capable of withstanding even the sword aura of a Marshal.' Only then did Elder Dog's expression soften slightly. 'By the way, Marshal asked me to remind you: when she's away, transfer the Magic Eye to the innermost section of the Zoo.' Yellow Sand didn't stay long; after a few casual exchanges, he departed the zoo. Elder Dog strolled slowly out of the room, paused at the door, then suddenly turned back. He sniffed vigorously, inhaling from both sides, murmuring, 'No, I'm certain—there's indeed a chocolate scent... But how is that possible? The Marshal could never eat chocolate...' As he spoke, the plants in the flowerbed outside the door gently swayed. Elder Dog listened intently, then understood the message conveyed by the flowers and plants. ——His phone, which had been left in the room, rang. Immediately, he dissolved into a green glow and reappeared moments later at the deepest corner of the pet shop in the outermost part of the zoo. The motivation on the table kept ringing without fatigue—another call from an unfamiliar number... a video call. The Dog Elder leapt onto the desk, pondered for several seconds, then raised its paw to tap the answer button. The video call connected, with a brief lag of two seconds, and a composed, gentle face appeared on the screen. The Dog Elder’s black-button eyes suddenly widened. It reflexively stepped back several paces, as if startled by a pet dog.