The sound rolled on, echoing through the clear sky to the northwest. Two ancient war gods, each three meters tall with three heads and eight arms, their muscles forged like steel and adorned with strange, mystical patterns on their bodies, were resolutely hammering at their opponent's steel-like form with a steady, rhythmic thud. Upon hearing the name "Five Elements Alliance," the Magi-Eye King, blazing with true fire, forcibly suppressed his combat fervor and halted the assault. The King of Fear, even more at ease, kicked aside the Magi-Eye, shrinking his towering frame down to a normal human size. The Magi-Eye immediately resumed its original form. Both kings wore only bronze skirts beneath their bare upper bodies, their sunlit, sinewy figures radiating a strong, masculine aura of vigor and boldness—so commanding and dynamic that one might have mistaken them for actors in an ancient costume drama. The Magi-Eye King pulled out a sports headband and fastened it over his forehead. The King of Fear took a single step and stood before the Silver Moon King, his face, always yearning for freedom, now softening into a graceful, gentle smile. "It seems we've made some unexpected discoveries." "Silver Moon King nodded, saying nothing extra, and reported directly: "At the Judgment Assembly, Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun unleashed half-divine combat power, defeating four Sovereigns—including Cai Qinhe—and was completely annihilated, both body and spirit, returning fully to the Spiritual Realm. "On the scene, four senior elders and sixteen senior officers announced their withdrawal from the Five Elements Alliance, including Ling Jun and Huang Tai Ji. More than two hundred official agents from the lower ranks declared their exit from the Spiritual Realm. "The Five Elements Alliance is now facing its most severe trust crisis since its founding." King of Fear smiled warmly, clapping his hands in approval: "After decades of rivalry between the Three Free Organizations and the Five Elements Alliance, the damage they've inflicted on each other pales in comparison to their own internal struggles—most interesting, truly interesting." "Only a pity for Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun," he said. "Pity?" Silver Moon King scoffed. "If this young man grows up, he'll likely become a half-divine himself—otherwise, at the very least, he'll reach the level of a Senior Elder. It's a blessing that he's gone. The entire hierarchy of the Army Pausing, he continued his report: "According to the advisory council's analysis, this crisis of trust will last for many years. During that time, as long as we apply pressure on the Five Elements Alliance, proactively launch attacks, and eliminate official Waywalkers, the Five Elements Alliance will continue to unravel, with an increasing number of grassroots Waywalkers withdrawing from the official ranks." "This will weaken the official power and strengthen civilian organizations, dispersing the strength of the Order-aligned factions," said the King of Fear, his smile bright and enthusiastic. "Then, what are we waiting for?" The Silver Moon General nodded, then turned to the statue-like Magi-Eye, saying, "You've always admired the Prime Celestial Sovereign, haven't you? This is precisely the perfect moment to strike back at the official establishment." The Magi-Eye King gazed silently at the fading sunset in the distance, his expression tinged with melancholy. "He has already returned to the Spiritual Realm," he murmured. "I would like to know the true story and the specific details." All he knew was that the Prime Celestial Sovereign faced judgment from the Five Elements Alliance for allegedly "colluding with evil professions" and "killing official Yet the true nature of the events and the specific details were only gradually realized even by the senior stewards who had participated in the trial—only after the Yuanshish Tianzun himself had perished, both body and spirit. Official reports typically conveyed only a general sense of the evil forces' actions; more detailed information required time to unfold. The King of Mago Eyes suddenly clutched his head, bent forward, and his body trembled continuously, as though enduring an intense agony. Blood and tears streamed from his forehead, soaking half his face. The King of Fear furrowed his brow: "Mago Eyes?" In reply, a low, chuckling sound rose: "Hah, hah, hah... Hah, hah, hah..." The Mago Eyes, bending low, began to laugh—laughing so violently that his entire body shook, his laughter growing more frantic and more melancholy. Exposed to the sky, his bare torso revealed a dense array of glowing golden-amber eyes, strange and terrifying. Each vertical eye emitted beams of golden-red light, and each beam carried a dreadful contamination. That day, all the enchanting spirits within the headquarters of the General Command were contaminated and plunged into frenzy. ... As the sun sank below the horizon, Yin Ji sat by the floor-to-ceiling window of the apartment building where the disciples of Taiguan gathered, silently gazing at the city now lit up with evening lights. The sorrow and ache lingering in her heart did not fade after a day—they instead gathered, swelled, and intensified, growing ever more profound. The death of Yuan Shi Tian Zun had deeply affected her. That young man clearly held her in good regard, often approaching her to chat, seeking connection while maintaining a thoughtful, measured distance. Yin Ji sometimes felt guilty—her heart was already full of the Magistrate’s presence, leaving little room for others, especially not for this one. Yet it could not be denied that Yuan Shi Tian Zun was an exceptionally admirable man, one she deeply admired. Beyond the realm of romantic feelings, as a friend, she cherished their bond, a friendship that surpassed that of most of her peers within the Tai Men sect. Her heart felt hollow now that Yuan Shi Tian Zun had returned to the spiritual realm. A bright stream of starlight rose from the bedroom, interrupting her thoughts. She quickly rose and bowed respectfully: "Master!" The visitor was Hong Ying, the Senior Monastic. Senior Hong Ying gazed at her, then sighed softly, "Still grieving over the passing of Yuanshi Tianzun? Ah, well, thank the stars you didn't develop into a romantic pair with him—otherwise... Otherwise, it would have been so much harder. First the demon king, then Yuanshi. Yin Ji bit her lip, her eyes glistening with tears, revealing her vulnerability before her teacher, "He didn't do anything wrong. He truly didn't. He shouldn't have ended up like this." Senior Hong Ying sighed again, "The person is gone now—no matter how much we say, it's all in vain. I've come to share a message with you. I believe you have the right to know." Yin Ji took a deep breath, pressing back her tears. "Please go on." "Just now, the Grand Elder convened us for a meeting and shared something..." Senior Hong Ying looked at her student with a complex expression, pausing several times, "Yuanshi Tianzun is actually the descendant of the demon king." Yin Ji stood still, staring at her teacher in astonishment. Senior Hong Ying chuckled wistfully, "No one could have imagined it. It was truly him. Even the tiger seal hadn Yin Ji’s mind was in a whirl. At one moment, the images of two figures merged in her thoughts—she had so many questions, so many things she didn’t understand, yearning for answers, yet she knew that answers would inevitably elude her. She stood motionless in the room, her sorrow rising and ebbing endlessly. Miao Teng'er hummed softly and said, "Uncle said he would never return again. He expressed that since his grandfather raised him, he couldn't blame his grandfather for that. But he couldn't forgive his grandfather for killing his brother." The Yun Zhongzi's face immediately darkened. "Master Jiang and Lady Gong have returned. Upon hearing these details, the two Grand Masters are deeply incensed. Your grandfather and the other eight have been... summoned into the Spiritual Realm for a meeting." "Not to mention them..." Yun Zhongzi scattered the pine nuts on the ground, turned around, and gazed at his niece's refined and elegant features, speaking solemnly. "Just now, the Red Sun Official from Tai Monastery delivered a message: Master Yuan Shiyuan... is a descendant of the Magus King." Dressed in formal suits, security personnel equipped with headsets and sidearms either stand guard or patrol. On the second floor, in the European-style study, the curtains are drawn tightly and the room is dark. In the quiet stillness of the darkness, a figure stands out sharply against the backdrop of the high-backed chair behind the desk. He has a neat, stylish short ponytail, and his handsome face, sharp as a blade, has grown more focused and refined in demeanor—more mature and authoritative than before. His suit is now tattered and stained with blood, and his torso, abdomen, thighs, and back are marked with clear, visible wounds. Three of his fingers on his left hand are broken, and even his face—once so striking that it could overwhelm a woman—now bears a network of scars. Fu Qingyang has returned. He surveys the study, paying no attention to his injuries, and immediately picks up the phone on the desk, turning on the screen. October 4th, 2:30 a.m. — a margin of error of 12 hours. He nodded satisfiedly, though he hadn't returned to reality before October—he had finally arrived at the beginning of October. Fu Qingyang had been meticulously timing his movements within the realm. With a gentle flick of his fingers, a blade of qi surged forth, striking the switch at the door. "Click!" The small pendant lamp illuminated, while the qi wave dispersed without damaging the switch. The light shone upon his strikingly handsome face, and also revealed the woman in a white riding boot, seated on the sofa across from the desk. With her legs crossed, her exquisite features radiating both regal composure and commanding authority—like a sovereign ruling the realm—she spoke with a cool, measured tone: "Your command of qi control is truly masterful; I can honestly say, among the scouts, only the old man from the Sword Pavilion can match you in finesse." She produced two bottles of life essence, tossed them gently, and furrowed her brows. "Let's heal your wounds. In less than a month, you've navigated nine realms. If your innate talent isn't up to par, there's no point in pushing—after all, you're nothing but a useless younger brother who just insists on showing off." When I first tackled the faction raid dungeons, I was far steadier than you. Concerned about her less confident younger brother, she had joined the dungeon runs as an observer. Over the course of half a month, Fu Qingyang completed nine dungeons—one S-tier, three A-tier, and five B-tier. The B-tier dungeons were manageable, with only minor setbacks. However, the three A-tier and the S-tier dungeons proved particularly challenging; he often found himself teetering on the brink of death, or even on the path toward it. In fact, he had already died several times. The life essence liquid stored in his inventory—once abundant—was nearly depleted within this period. He used up his healing items repeatedly. Even so, he came close to perishing within the dungeons, surviving largely due to his solid foundation, the quality of his gear (especially his cloak), and sheer luck. Fu Qingxuan couldn’t understand why he didn’t adopt a more gradual approach—such as taking a few days to rest and recover between each dungeon—to significantly reduce the risks. Yet Fu Qingyang seemed eager to be reborn, never giving himself a chance to catch his breath. "I don't have time," Fu Qingyang said calmly. Fu Qingxuan didn't feel the need to press further. "This year, please don't enter any sect dungeons anymore. Adjust to the level eight realm, refine your mastery of the Dominance-phase skills, and then attempt the challenges again next year. I'll tell you, every level-eight dungeon you face will have a casualty rate exceeding 70%, and level-nine dungeons will see mortality rates surpassing 90%. If you don't have any fortunate encounters or a significant leap in your sword technique, level-eight peak will be your limit. Of course, with the blessing of the Sword Master's cloak, you can at least hold your own against a level-nine initial Dominance-phase cultivator." Fu Qingyang ignored his sister's earnest advice, while injecting the Life Source liquid and opening his contact list to dial Yuan Shiyuan's phone. "Sorry, the number you've dialed is currently off the hook..." Off the hook? His copy time should have been mid-October this month... Fu Qingyang furrowed his brow and then dialed Guan Ya's phone. "Dialing... dialing... dialing..." The line connected, but no one answered. Just as Fu Qingyang was about to hang up, the connection finally established—yet the sound coming through the speaker wasn't Guan Ya's voice, but his aunt, Fu Xue. "Qing, Qingyang? Have you returned?" Aunt Fu's voice was thick with nasal resonance, weary and strained. Fu Qingyang didn't particularly like this aunt, and he slightly frowned. "Have you come to Songhai? Yes, I've returned. Tell Guan Ya and Yuan Shi, I'll be back in Songhai tomorrow." As he spoke, he heard soft sniffing on the other end. Then came Aunt Fu's choked voice: "Qingyang, Yuan Shi has returned to the Spiritual Realm."