A hurried, chaotic footfall echoed through the stone-arched corridor. Within just a few seconds, five figures sprinted across the long hall and reached the temple's entrance. A tremendous commotion, a violent gust of air, and a surging wave of spiritual energy radiated from within the temple. "Stay put. I'll investigate," said Zhang Yuanqing, his fierce and overwhelming presence preventing him from moving or allowing his companions to advance. The others nodded silently, their faces now serious. Zhang Yuanqing activated his Night-Wanderer technique, blending into the shadows and moving silently toward the temple entrance. The temple was vast and open, with no walls or pillars, its ceiling stretching into an endless expanse of starry sky. As he paused at the entrance, Zhang observed the two combatants engaged in battle. Behind Xiahou Aotian floated a towering divine silhouette—depicted as an elderly sage with silver hair and a serene, noble bearing. This sage wore a robe adorned with the patterns of the Taiji and Ba Gua, his right hand supporting a bronze elixir furnace, around which turtle shells, medicinal pills, and copper coins spun in a continuous motion. Holding a cluster of fire in his left hand, the base flame is white, the middle flame black, and the outer flame crimson. Several props and materials revolve around the three-toned flames. Behind the "Scholar Deity," Crang Ju lies with his arm severed; Yin Ji, once radiant and breathtaking, now unconscious as her veil falls; and Xia Zuo, whose arms are cut off at the shoulders, pale and lifeless. All three are severely wounded—especially Xia Zuo, whose chest and abdomen bear grievous penetrating wounds, revealing the delicate, crimson-tinged organs beneath. His blood is nearly spent! As a knight, lacking strong vitality and self-healing capacity, such injuries would be fatal. He remains alive, perhaps due to the endurance and resolve forged during his "Austere Practitioner" stage, which has allowed him to stubbornly resist death. On the evil side, three peak Sages—Dormant Dragon Sovereign, Blood-Soaked Elixir, and the Human-Beast Hybrid—lie in deep sleep. The Sleeper Dragon Prince is a middle-aged white man, looking utterly exhausted, with half-closed eyes, slender in build, pale-skinned, as if just waking from a severe hangover, his eyes barely open. Behind him, a deep, profound darkness lingers, and from within this dark, marshy expanse, a tall humanoid figure periodically emerges and then fades, its face indistinct—though when its outline briefly appears, the sealing power within the temple rises like a tide, causing the flames in the scholar deity’s hands to tremble and weaken. Xiahou Aotian faced three opponents single-handedly, his eyes gleaming with golden radiance. A golden ring composed of characters resembling Sanskrit script adorned behind his head, now stepping rhythmically like a sewing machine, pressing the trigger of a large cannon. With each press, a long, thick cannon mouth erupted a burst of golden light, striking the enemy across the field. With every press, Xiahou Aotian's eyes grew more moist. The dense, golden rain of light fell upon the deep, viscous darkness, only to dissipate without explosion, or to be distorted, veering off to the left and right, or upward—easily absorbed. Undeterred, Xiahou Aotian maintained his relentless output. Three-colored flames continuously melted materials and items, forging one energy packet after another. Saint Rayli Eugene of the Merchant Guild filled the energy packets at his side. Meanwhile, the furnace in his right hand opened and closed continuously, transmuting intangible skills such as "Stonification Beam," "Distortion," and "Sleeping Spell" into essence. For a high-tier scholar, anything in the world could be transmuted and reconfigured—be it physical matter or spiritual energy. And the foundation of skill lies in spiritual energy. Watching one after another of the materials and tools being melted down, he wept bitterly, for these were his and Xiahou Aotian's personal possessions. "What are you crying about?" Xiahou Aotian's face was stern. "Having chosen the Scholar and Merchant professions, you must be prepared to live in poverty—assets that are neither brought with you nor carried into the afterlife." ... Seeing the tear tracks on his brother's face, Lei Li Yuugen felt he should emulate Xiahou's stubbornness. "Moreover, we haven't lost our chance!" Xiahou Aotian, with seven orifices slightly bleeding, suddenly said. "What chance do you mean?" Lei Li Yuugen hoped this wasn't just stubbornness—after Xiahou had endured so much, drained his entire fortune, and now was truly working overtime. Mastering the divine body required immense physical strain, and Xiahou's spiritual energy was now dwindling. If this continued, he would surely succumb to exhaustion and death. Xiahou Aotian said nothing, merely glancing toward the western edge of the hall, where a statue of a witch-guisher deity stood at the perimeter of the circular array, adorned with intricate reliefs. The opportunity he indicated was not the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign—the Night-Wanderer deity had already been destroyed during the battle of the deities, now no more than a mere insect in comparison to the Primordial Sovereign. The opportunity Xiahou Aotian pointed to was his companion, Xiao Yuan, the Primordial Sovereign’s longtime partner—currently the only surviving witch-guisher among the slain in the killing quest. At the moment of conflict, Xiahou Aotian retaliated by shattering the statues of the evil-aligned deities, deliberately leaving the witch-guisher statue intact. As for the three sleeping Dragon Sovereigns, they naturally did not intentionally damage the witch-guisher statue—by nature, the evil faction was their natural ally, and among the six names in the killing quest, they were already secure in claiming one, with no conflict arising later with the witch-guisher. I admit I was overly confident just now... Zhang Yuanqing drew a deep breath, sensing the aura of the two deities—undeniably master-level, far beyond the reach of even a junior master. Zhang Yuanqing felt that even if he were fully "boosted," he still wouldn't stand a chance. He had always believed the upper limit of combat power in the slaughter quests to be no more than the seventh tier of master-level deities. With his lightning god set and dual skill proficiency, he had always considered himself a frontline force. Yet the combat power of these deities was so extraordinary, so unreasonable—it had completely erased all his advantages. His strength in terms of abundant equipment stores had been nullified by the relics, and his dual-occupation prowess surpassing the peak seers had been overshadowed by the deities' corporeal forms. Now it struck him that perhaps this very slaughter quest had been specifically designed to counter him. His gaze swept across the four deities and settled on the western side of the temple, where a complexly carved circular array stood. Within the circular array, there are constellations, swords and shields, winds and thunder, flames, vines, wheat, and monsters—exquisitely carved, lifelike patterns converge, both perfectly harmonized and in striking contrast to one another. Along the edge of this circular array, spanning dozens of meters in diameter, scattered fragments of statues lie broken and scattered. These statues depict both men and women, ranging from fierce warriors to solemn wizards, each with its own distinct character. Osmon is correct—the divine forms of the gods have all been destroyed, save for one intact statue. This statue wears a sumptuous robe, its facial features indistinct between male and female, adorned with strange, intricate tattoos across its face, dense colonies of parasites crawling beneath its feet, and a circular serpent coil forming a continuous ring behind its head—resembling the mythic brow wheel of a deity. Most distinctive of all, the statue has only one vertical eye, engraved upon its forehead. A deity of witchcraft and entheogens? Without seeing the forms of the Night Wanderer or the Illusionist, Zhang Yuanqing, who had initially been disheartened, now experiences a sudden surge of excitement, keenly recognizing this as Zhang Yuanqing quickly returned to his teammates and briefly updated them on the situation inside the temple. Zhang Yuanqing calmly assigned tasks: "Xiao Yuan, after you enter the temple, go around Xiahou Aotian without any conversation—just proceed directly to the fusion form." The three evil-class professionals inside the temple were all senior saints from the first region; they were unaware of the existence of Wuhen Hotel, nor did they recognize Xiao Yuan. They would judge her as friend or foe solely based on the characteristics she displayed, as defined by her class. Naturally, Xiahou Aotian would not obstruct Xiao Yuan. "Understood!" Xiao Yuan slightly nodded, her wings—already fully grown—vibrating as she transformed into a streak of light and entered the temple. The steady hum of the helicopter's propellers immediately drew the attention of both combatants. The three evil-class professionals, including the sleeping Dragon Duke, instantly turned their gaze. Upon seeing Xiao Yuan's appearance and features, their expressions eased slightly, then brightened into smiles. "Blood-liquid" exclaimed, "Another ally has arrived!" Following her lover's instructions, Xiao Yuan deliberately avoided Xiaohou Aotian, displaying a demeanor of hesitation and reserve, as the three evil practitioners stood ready to provide backup, observing her landing beside the statue of the witch-guisher. She felt her heart racing, sensing a call from her bloodline—the statue was calling to her. With sudden insight, she raised her hand and pressed it against the statue's body. A spiritual realm notification sounded in her ears: 【Ping! Match successful with the Witch-Guisher. Would you like to merge?】 Without hesitation, Xiao Yuan immediately chose to merge. 【Ping! The fusion requires 100 points of credit. Your current credit is insufficient. Fusion failed.】 Insufficient credit? Xiao Yuan's expression changed abruptly. Now she realized that merging a divine form required a certain qualification—not merely reaching the third level would suffice. This made perfect sense, since each profession could only possess one divine form. And in the spiritual realm's combat instances, where multiple participants from the same profession were involved, it was impossible for every participant to have only one divine form. This mechanism effectively filtered out the weaker ones. Osmon didn't mention this detail—perhaps the Sleeping Dragon Duke had destroyed most of the statues, so the proud sea naiad was unaware of this mechanism. And Yuan Shi couldn't possibly communicate with Xiahou Aotian while the enemy was right in front of her. In the short term, where could she go to earn 100 points? She and Huang Taiqi were trapped inside the cultural relic gourd, with little time to subdue the artifacts. The second floor's mode offered even less opportunity to accumulate points—only the 20-point reward from completing the level. She currently had 40 points, gaining 10 upon reaching the second floor and 30 upon reaching the third, making the 100-point target seem far out of reach. The graceful female hybrid, always attentive to her, murmured in surprise, noticing the newly arrived bee naiad standing motionless. She immediately deduced the truth: "Not enough points?" The Sleeping Dragon Duke lifted his drowsy eyes, glanced toward the temple entrance, and spoke casually, "Osmon hasn't died yet, but she's close—when she arrived, she didn't encounter anyone?" "If we encounter her, we'll simply slaughter her on the spot—how could we possibly lack points? Meanwhile, he opens the points leaderboard to confirm that Osmon is indeed still alive. The beautiful woman murmurs, "Could it be that the Morality Sovereign, ranked second on the board, rescued her?" "If those others reached the third floor to save Osmon, why is she able to come here? She should have perished in the corridor." The crimson liquid in her gaze shifts, and she says, "Summon her to speak with me!"