Though it was a lighthearted, tongue-in-cheek remark, Zhang Yuanqing's sense of frustration was genuine. Lingtuo's unconventional maneuvers were constantly reshaping reality—despite being physically immersed in the dungeon, they still held the reins of the real world. The forces of chaos had been laying their plans subtly and steadily, with the Free Alliance's long-standing, century-old strategy now deeply entrenched and far-reaching. A single spark could send ripples of disruption through the lawful factions. In the current conflict among the New Accord factions, the advantages he had painstakingly built were, in the eyes of the half-god-level champions, merely child's play. With twenty days still until the slaughter dungeon, even after his promotion to Master, he remained no more than a mere insect in the half-gods' sight. This time, the lawful factions faced an unprecedented crisis. If they failed to weather it, the lawful order would collapse entirely—no future, no time for growth, and Zhang Yuanqing would have no chance to grow at all. Fu Qingyang's calm voice came through the speaker: "Borias is an experienced half-god, and both in her knowledge of the spiritual realms and in combat experience, she matches her status perfectly. Choosing to merge with Thor, in her view, must have been a sure bet—she likely believed she could withstand the cunning maneuvers of the evil faction. Yet, she underestimated them." Zhang Yuanqing remained silent for a few seconds. "Boss, what exactly do you mean?" Fu Qingyang nodded. "It shows that within the evil faction, there are individuals with greater experience and knowledge than Borias—precisely the deities you mentioned. The Free Alliance has quietly endured for a century, carefully laying plans behind the scenes. When they finally act, their sudden emergence will inevitably bring about catastrophic consequences—this is entirely expected. Don't be overly alarmed. Just hold on through it, and you'll neutralize all their strategic moves." Only now did Zhang Yuanqing realize that his boss was offering him reassurance. After a century of careful plotting by the evil faction, bolstered by divine allies, their eventual move would surely be a momentous event—anything less than a dramatic upheaval would have been unreasonable. This is the accumulated strength the other side has gathered from their previous campaign against the opposition. The lawful order faction can only endure, withstand, and hope to outlast—thus effectively neutralizing the enemy's strongest attacks. The outcome remains uncertain. Should they fail to endure, then they must accept their fate. "The lawful order has governed the world for a century, with so many half-gods still in their ranks—there are surely still strong reserves. Simply remain patient and steady," said Fu Qingyang, as if commanding from the battlefield, unflinching even as mountains crumbled before him. "With half-gods bearing the weight of the heavens, should all half-gods fall, the dominators will step in. When even the dominators return to the spiritual realm, then it will be your turn—then, when it comes, you will meet your fate. In the worst case, you will merely return to the spiritual realm. Nothing more. 'By viewing life and death as mere matters of perspective, no event or person can disrupt your inner peace.' Zhang Yuanqing smiled faintly, with a touch of resignation. "It's just that I feel unfulfilled. Death itself is not frightening—what's truly dreadful is not seeing the enemy Fu Qingyang said solemnly, "Then rest well and prepare for the combat quest. Once you ascend to the status of Sovereign, you'll at least be able to enter the game as a pawn." Zhang Yuanqing hung up the phone, originally intending to return to the quest realm to continue his cultivation. But with such a major incident unfolding, how could he find the heart to meditate? Until the crises caused by the two chief figures of Tianfa were resolved, he couldn't settle back in the realm. So he went back to his living floor and gathered the members who had returned from the afterlife. "Something major has happened!" Zhang Yuanqing took a deep breath, looking at his teammates. "You should have received the spiritual realm notification, but the details..." Sun Miao Miao: "We're fully aware of everything." Zhao Chenghuang: "The two chief figures of Tianfa have suddenly gone mad, opening up a killing spree at headquarters, wiping out their moral standing. Now, even Huacheng is facing a major disaster." ...Zhang Yuanqing stared at them, stunned, "How did you know all this?" Guan Ya said, "We found out through Yuan Ting." "Almost forgot that the latter's ability to gather information is on par with the very rules themselves... Zhang Yuanqing murmured quietly to himself, then said, "Huacheng is quite distant from Xin Yue Commandery, so it's unlikely to have any impact here. But following this battle, even if the Heavenly Punishment doesn't completely disintegrate, it will undoubtedly suffer unprecedented weakening. What comes next remains uncertain—definitely not going to improve. I recommend you return." Guan Ya and the others nodded seriously. Zhang Yuanqing habitually intended to ask them their views on the current situation, but decided it wasn't necessary—after all, even the celestial saints had discussed the matter endlessly, yet the outcome remained unchanged, much like office workers constantly debating global affairs, whose efforts never alter the actual state of the world. The headquarters of Tianfa, spanning 68,000 square meters, has now been reduced to a ruin. From their elevated vantage point, they survey the scene—crumbling walls, greenery uprooted from the ground, pipes still spraying water, and thick plumes of smoke rising. There is no life here: some have perished, others have fled. Everywhere, victims are found split and dismembered by wind blades, lying like clusters of mosquitoes crushed against the walls, their blood splattered vividly and dramatically. Among these victims, some are extraordinary beings, some are sages, and even a few are masters of the realm—yet in the face of a semi-divine catastrophe, they are all equally insignificant. Fu Qingxuan appears somewhat dazed. Tianfa was the holy ground in the hearts of all the lawful travelers. It gathered the world's finest lawful talents, housed two powerful semi-divine beings of the 11th rank, was backed by a vast corporate network, and boasted the most extensive repository of artifacts. To all lawful travelers, joining Tianfa was a source of great pride. A powerful organization that has stood for a century now faces a catastrophic collapse. When Fu Qingxuan was young, she had aspired to join Tianfa and become a respected prosecutor, admired by many. Though over the years she has grown independent and developed her own views, influenced by her childhood experiences, the imprint remains strong within her. Seeing the devastated state of Tianfa's headquarters now, she feels a deep sense of complexity. "The golden age of Tianfa is over," the chairman sighs, placing a hand on Fu Qingxuan's shoulder and transporting her away. They soon arrive in Huacheng city, where they find the same scene of ruin—just recently, the city center had been struck by a devastating hurricane and spherical lightning. Buildings have collapsed, smoke rises in thick plumes from various points, traffic is jammed, and people rush desperately to escape. Ambulances and fire trucks emit sharp sirens, yet they are stuck on the roads due to street collapses and fractures, leaving the entire transportation system paralyzed. The water supply system has collapsed, the power system has collapsed, and people are dying every minute. The hurricane's path slices through this district, heading toward the southern suburbs. The President opens his inventory, clicks on the wanted mission, checks the flashing red lights, and then transports Fu Qingxuan again. This time, they arrive directly at the destination, where they see Borias floating at 500 meters above ground—the chief executive of the Divine Judgment—naked, her beautiful body bare. One eye pulses with lightning, glowing a bright blue, while the other is transparent, like crystal. She gazes down upon the vast, sprawling earth, her expression and gaze stunned, murmuring, "Who am I? Who am I?" The President and the Marshal exchange a glance. The former whispers, "She's truly gone mad." Fu Qingxuan nods, adding, "Yet she's also stronger—her presence sends a shiver through me." "Theoretically, she now possesses a 12-tiered status." "The President spoke solemnly, 'The last person who gave me this feeling was Shura.' As he spoke, Borias suddenly turned sharply, fixing his gaze on the two of them, and demanded fiercely, 'Who am I? And who are you!' The vacancy in his eyes ignited with madness and fury. With his index finger poised like a sword, the President swiftly inscribed a complex series of incantations in the air, forming a contract filled with arcane runes, then smiled lightly. 'Old friend, how could you have forgotten your own identity? Let me tell you—though we must make a deal: I'll answer your questions, and in return, you'll pay me a fee.' Borias stared at them intently, the fury in his eyes gradually softening, and urgently asked, 'Who am I? Tell me quickly!' The contract that had been before the President suddenly glowed brightly, then faded away, as if some unseen rule had been established. The President then declared, 'The deal is struck. Listen carefully—your name is Borias! Borias, I shall take your power as a god of thunder in exchange for my fee.'" "With that, he reached out and grasped—thousands of tree-like lightning surged from Borias, converging into the会长's hands, and finally solidifying into a bright, piercing blue lightning sphere. Trade is the most powerful and common ability of merchants. And when a half-god-level leader like this executes a mutually agreed-upon trade, it manifests as a rule itself. "Borias… yes, I am Borias, I am Borias," Borias' eyes darted wildly, his smile appearing both delighted and ecstatic. A flash of swordlight across the heavens, and Fu Qingxuan seized the moment to launch a surprise attack. She swiftly moved close to the Sky King, drew a gleaming iron sword from her inventory, and unleashed a sharp sword aura that warped the very space around her, aiming it directly at Borias' forehead. Her sword was capable of easily shattering half-god-level rule-type items. Boreas remained immersed in delight, murmuring, "I am Boreas, I am Boreas..." As the sword's light approached its target, she suddenly raised her hand and caught it. A flow of azure energy curled around her fingers. She glanced at Fu Qingxuan, then at the sword in her hand, realizing she had been attacked—eyes blazing with frantic determination and murderous intent—and shouted fiercely, "Die!" "Fu Qingxuan nodded: 'Without the power of lightning, her rank remains 12. The fusion has indeed succeeded—the issue lies in that she hasn't erased the spirit of the Thunder God, which has caused her mental confusion.' The Chairman paused and said, 'The fusion has succeeded... the evil faction hasn't deceived her, which makes sense. How could they have concealed such a subtle trick from her? What then might be the reason for the failure? Perhaps, becoming the dominant force still requires one more step?' At that moment, a piercing cry rang out, and vast waves of wind-blades descended like a relentless rain. The Chairman steadied the white-haired general's shoulder and transported them away. As soon as they appeared at a distance, another wave of wind-blades poured down, pouring down without restraint. The Chairman transported them once more, but every time they materialized, the wind-blades immediately descended upon them. They remained under the constant gaze of the Sky King. After Fu Qingxuan's failed assault, they dared not attempt any surprise attacks, fearing to expose the two gods unguarded." At that moment, thick clouds drifted in from the east, rapidly increasing the humidity in the air. Lightning cracked and thunder roared within the clouds, with fierce winds sweeping across the land. A clear, resonant dragon's cry echoed throughout the surroundings, so powerful it shook the listeners' ears and seemed to purify their souls. Borias trembled, and the confusion and frenzy in her eyes swiftly faded; under the cleansing effect of the cry, she regained her sense of self and briefly regained clarity. The Rain Lord's dragon cry is especially adept at dispelling illusions. Suddenly, an elderly man with white hair and a tall, imposing frame appeared on the scene—seemingly materializing out of thin air, more abrupt and mysterious than a teleportation. He held a pitcher of wine in his hands, lifted it to his mouth, and drank deeply before spitting it out. The intoxicating aroma of wine spread like mist and vapor, making Fu Qingxuan and the chairman sway and grow flushed, as though they had consumed ten jin of second-brewed rice wine. Borias' gaze grew hazy, and the clarity she had just regained quickly dissolved, with chaos and frenzy once again taking hold of her mind. The dark cloud rolled in, generating a suction force that swiftly devoured the wine aroma in the air. "Exiled!" the chairman snapped his fingers, sending the wine club's owner into the wings. Yet in the very next moment, Old Mac, holding the wine jug, reappeared, sneering, "Distance means nothing to me." As soon as he spoke, cracks appeared beneath his feet, revealing two stone-clad hands that firmly grasped his body. A blazing crimson flame erupted, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair emerged, his hands blazing with flame that surged into a long blade, cleaving through Old Mac's head. The severed head rolled down and was caught by a hand, gently pressed against the broken neck. Old Mac, now held by the stone hands, had vanished entirely. In an age when knights lack demi-gods, the wine-drinker can freely warp the rules, turning death into life. To the west, a gentle green glow drifted in, like wisps of mist—seeming slow, yet actually swift. Above the green light, a blazing flame streaked across the sky, vaporizing moisture in the air and sending out waves of intense heat. "Tapping, tapping, tapping..." the sound of hooves came from the south, eight swift blue horses drawing a war chariot at full speed. The earth cracked open, and an elderly sage in yellow robes, with white hair and beard, stood upon a stone pillar, rising slowly into the sky. Half-gods of the Lawful faction arrived in full. "Roar!" A thunderous roar drew the half-gods' attention, and a five-clawed divine dragon with black scales and green manes glided in, exuding an eerie aura, its eyes like two rubies. A venomous dragon! A half-god from the Spirit Energy Guild has arrived. Standing atop the dragon's head were two figures. One wore a cloak with a hood, his face shifting between male and female, young and old—this was the Illusion God from the Southern School. The other dressed in a crisp suit, handsome and refined, adorned with silver ear studs, exuding a relaxed, cool charm. The Fearless King.