Zhang Yuanqing was startled and cried out, "Xiahou Aotian, watch your head!" At the same time, Xiahou Aotian received a warning from the elderly ring: "The sculpture is problematic..." As the two voices echoed in his mind and resonated in his ears, Xiahou Aotian had already instinctively raised his head, and saw the statue's expressionless, rigid face, its two eyes fixed upon him. A lifeless object was now gazing at him. Even with his vast experience, he could not help feeling a chill run down his spine. As their eyes met, the female sculpture suddenly launched a rusted iron sword with lightning speed. A flash of swordlight illuminated the hall. Xiahou Aotian, unable to avoid it, crossed his arms in front of him, and the two crimson half-gloves on his arms ignited flames that spiraled into a vortex of one-meter diameter, forming a rotating flame shield. At the same time, the mud boots on his feet surged with mud, flowing upward and enveloping him like a terracotta warrior. Finally, the vine armor on Xiahou Aotian's body automatically rose to form a deep green light shield. The flame vortex failed to shatter the swordlight and collapsed first, followed by the deep green energy shield, which shattered into glass-like fragments. Then came a heavy "thud," and a deep crack split through Xiaohou Aotian's mud shell. The next instant, array patterns emerged beneath Xiaohou Aotian's feet, transporting him to the entrance of the hall. "None of the three items could withstand it—stay alert!" he roared. A faint, barely visible wound emerged on Xiaohou Aotian's chest, barely touching the bone, already stopped bleeding and slowly healing. At the Sovereign stage, regardless of profession, vitality surged to a truly extraordinary, near-supernatural level. The rigid female statue's face remained stiff; her neck cracked with a "crunch," and like a puppet, her head rotated to face the group. Her rusted iron sword swept across with a powerful arc. Fu Qingyang stiffened: "Bow down!" The four figures and the corpse lowered themselves in unison, and a thunderous roar echoed in their ears as the swordlight severed pillars, walls, and the hall doors, then surged out beyond the hall, continuing to expand until it vanished How impressive was that sword aura with just a casual gesture? Zhang Yuanqing snapped his fingers with a crisp sound, instantly teleporting to the outer courtyard. Yin Yao, Fu Qingyang, the King with the Mage's Eye, and Xiahou Aotian all rushed outside. "Roar—!" The Yao Guang Hall collapsed, shattering tiles and splintering beams, lifting a thick cloud of dust. "Boom!" From the wreckage, a towering figure emerged—over two meters tall, carved from stone—yet her heavy frame moved with the lightness of a kite, swiftly reaching Zhang Yuanqing and delivering a powerful strike. In a moment of urgency, Zhang Yuanqing raised his short sword overhead to block. Clang! The rusted iron sword struck against the short blade, sending out a cascade of sword aura, which rang out in a series of sharp "ting-ting" sounds, absorbed by the purple-gold armor. Zhang Yuanqing's hands cracked under the pressure, his short sword pressed against his shoulder. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. The golden dragon silhouette that had encircled him dissolved into shimmering golden fragments under the force of the single blow. The female A beam of golden-red light shot in from the side, striking precisely the female sculpture's body. It suddenly froze, reverting into a lifeless, inert object. At this moment, Fu Qingyang, now clad in a dark cloak embroidered with golden cloud patterns, drew a luminous dragon-headed sword. As the cloak fluttered in the wind, he struck the sword's tip to the female statue's forehead. "Crack!" The statue's head splintered with dramatic fissures. Fu Qingyang swiftly withdrew his sword and stepped back, while Zhang Yuanqing switched into his white-bladed state, activating his "Cut Form" skill that bypasses defenses, and powerfully drove his blade into the statue's forehead, where cracks were already widespread. "Thud!" A depression formed at the statue's brow, and fragments of stone burst outward. Even the "Cut Form," which ignores physical defenses, could not penetrate the statue's head—proving that the statue lacked any defensive structure, its strength being inherent to its very material. After suffering two consecutive fatal blows, the female statue broke free from its state of disarray, raising its head with a piercing cry emanating from its soul, and then sweeping across with a horizontal iron blade. Fu Qingyang felt a sudden, intense pain in his mind, accompanied by a mild dizziness. Even the resilient Yanshi, known for his steel resolve, was thus overwhelmed; how much more so were Xiaohou Aotian, the Mage-Eyed Emperor, and Lady Yin Yao, all of whom were now in a state of complete disarray. Suddenly, a gentle yet powerful force flowed into his mind, soothing both the dizziness and the pain. At the same time, the voice of Yuan Shi Tianzun echoed urgently in his ears: "Crouch down!" The group bent lower once more, narrowly avoiding the world-shattering sword strike. The towering wall behind them was severed in a clean cut, its height reduced by a significant amount, while bushes, trees, and vines fell in unison, their cut surfaces perfectly even. The floral crown atop Fu Qingyang's head glowed brightly, instantly awakening the surrounding trees. Their roots and vines, now resembling tendrils, tightly ensnared the female statues. "Pffft... pffft..." countless swordspikes burst forth from within the statues, tearing through and shattering the entwining vegetation. Zhang Yuanqing, having activated his "Liy Distantly, a thunderous roar echoed, and the ground sank beneath it. The King of the Eight-Armed Eye, moving with sheer speed, materialized like a ghost behind the female statue, unfurling his eight arms to firmly clamp her in place. Fu Qingyang stepped forward, covering fifteen meters in a single stride, raising his golden dragon sword high. Princess Yin Yao transformed into a cascade of starlight, appearing on the right side of the female statue, surging with powerful yin energy and swiftly forming one after another sealing scrolls. With her right hand, which held an ancient yellow gourd, the female statue gently lifted the gourd, allowing it to rest atop her head. The now-free hand then moved with the speed of a thunderbolt, seizing Zhang Yuanqing's wrist and sweeping it backward. "Crack!" The prince, clad in purple and golden armor, collided heavily with the King of the Eight-Armed Eye, who staggered and retreated. The female statue's head snapped sharply to the side, emitting a piercing, high-pitched cry—only audible to beings of yin energy—directed toward Princess Yin Yao. With her right hand, she held a rusted iron sword across her body, blocking the attack Lady Yin Yao went offline, frozen in place. The female statue, as its body sank, spun, drawing the rusted iron sword with it, and struck at Lady Yin Yao's head. It possessed strong swordsmanship and excellent close-combat capabilities. As Fu Qingyang retreated, he launched the Golden Dragon Sword. With a roar, the divine weapon transformed into a majestic golden dragon, charging directly at the female statue. The statue raised its sword and turned to counterattack. Clang! The rusted iron sword sparked brilliantly under the dragon's head-on strike. The golden dragon circled the statue, occasionally diving down like a flying sword, launching swift attacks. The statue, with exceptional sword skills, each time deflected the dragon's plunges. Then, one golden dragon roared, opening its massive mouth and spewing out waves of golden molten flame. The flame surged for nearly fifteen seconds. The five-clawed golden dragon then gathered its breath, twisted its body, and flew aside, settling down to sleep deeply. The female statue, standing over two meters tall, is draped with viscous lava. Its stone body has turned a charred black, and now seems lifeless, rigidly standing in place. The pure dragon flame of the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon is exceptionally effective against阴物 and only affects targets directly scorched by the flame, without suppressing allies. It is less forceful than the sun's rise. The King of the Mystic Eyes smiles, his eight arms outstretched, his demeanor bold and fierce, charging straight toward the female statue. His eight fists descend in a torrent, striking the statue's head from various angles. Thud, thud, thud... the fists strike so swiftly that they leave visible afterimages, causing the statue to lean and stagger backward. Zhang Yuanqing, clad in purple-and-gold armor, leaps out from atop the King of the Mystic Eyes. "Its body is too solid—I'll step back!" The female statue suddenly halts its retreat, her wrist rotating, and her rusted iron sword sweeping back to counter. At that moment, a cluster of three-colored flames bursts forth, wrapping around the rusted sword and blazing fiercely. Instantly, the iron sword seemed to weigh thousands of pounds, immovable, growing red-hot and showing signs of melting. After observing the scene for a long time, Xiahou Aotian finally seized the opportunity and unleashed his threefold true fire—a technique that effectively countered artifacts and weapons. Zhang Yuanqing capitalized on the moment, his arm muscles rippling as he raised his sleeve, combining the power of the Purple Thunder Hammer into a solid punch and driving it down. "Crack!" The fissures on the female statue's forehead rapidly expanded, and the right half of her face shattered. This decisive blow prompted the statue to abandon the iron sword, using its solid form as a weapon to mount a counterattack. At this moment, the golden-red beams emitted from the vertical eyes on the magic eye illuminated the statue once more, re-establishing control. Zhang Yuanqing's eyes brightened—he was confident that with just three more punches, even if the statue's head were half-crushed, he could completely destroy it. Yet, an endless surge of black smoke poured in from all directions, gradually obscuring his vision. Ten minutes passed. Zhang Yuanqing's shoulder and back muscles contracted, propelling his fist forward. Though his vision was obscured, he didn't hesitate in attacking—the enemy was right in front of him. Yet, his straight punch struck only empty air. The woman statue, still under the influence of the enchanted beast, had vanished. Crap! Zhang Yuanqing's heart sank, his nerves instantly tensed, and he roared, "Where is it?" Fu Qingyang spoke rapidly, "At my nine o'clock position!" Zhang Yuanqing immediately raised his left hand, the palm opening like a hollow gun barrel, launching a bolt of thunderstorm artillery. As the pale purple, spherical lightning surged forward, Fu Qingyang's tone shifted, "At my twelve o'clock position." Boom! The thunderstorm artillery missed, sending a terrifying shockwave and dense arcs of electricity rippling outward. Xia Hou Aotian and the King of the Divine Eye both surged toward the twelve o'clock direction, only to hear Fu Qingyang say, "At my three o'clock position... it's constantly moving." "No," Fu Qingyang added calmly, "It's not moving—it's using a form of teleportation, possibly a stellarevolution Xiahou Aotian stormed, "Why should a statue of a scout possess star-dashing ability?" "Well, it's the black smoke that grants her this power—do you really not see that?" the King of the Magical Eye remarked. "You see it, then tell me how to fight! The footsteps are already coming!" As soon as Xiahou Aotian finished speaking, the group heard the steady "thud, thud" of approaching footsteps. "Ten o'clock direction, fifty meters; eight o'clock direction, sixty meters..." Fu Qingyang continuously reported the enemy's positions, his tone growing faster and more urgent by the moment. Even he was now on edge. The female statue kept shifting positions. Only then did they realize how absurd it was to plan to eliminate the enemy by following the footsteps. The black smoke served as the female statue's protective shield—her greatest threat. The real opportunity to defeat the enemy came only during the ten-minute intervals between footsteps. If they failed to eliminate the enemy within those ten minutes, they would have to wait to die. Now, their crisis had arrived. The Master of the Stop-Killing Palace has been "enfeoffed"; no one can save them. The severed-head attack is beyond the endurance of the ancient war god, the Master of the Workshop, and the artisan, except Zhang Yuanqing, who is the Day-Wandering God.