Frightened King, with his handsome face, smiled with a touch of amusement: "If you can emerge from the Zhu Lu Campaign instance, I'd be delighted if you came to kill me. After all, everyone has their own goals, doesn't he? Just like the person I always wish to defeat—Fu Qingxuan." Magical-Eye King murmured, "Too small. Too narrow in vision." "You're consumed by your own love and hatred, crushed by Fu Qingxuan for half a lifetime. To you, she's the only woman in the world—your dream is to kill her, surpass her, and prove yourself." "Your delicate, homegrown nature, Frightened King, won't achieve great things," he said, spreading his arms with the noble posture of a martyr. "Unlike me, who has lofty ideals and ambitions." Frightened King's face tightened, and he replied coldly, "Then go on into the instance." The divine eyes king heard a spiritual realm notification: 【Ping! The spiritual realm map is loading. In 30 seconds, you will enter the spiritual realm. This is your current realm, "The Battle of Zhuolu," designated as No. 09.】 【Difficulty Level: S】 【Type: Single-player (Death-based)】 【Main Objective: Eliminate the Yan Huang army and survive for ten days.】 【Note: Non-spiritual realm items cannot be brought in.】 【Introduction to Realm No. 09: The Jiuli tribes, led by Chiyou, defeated the Yan Emperor. To safeguard their alliance, the House of You, uniting various tribes, marched to Zhuolu to confront the Jiuli.】 Ten days of survival—this mission is one I'm well familiar with. The divine eyes king gave a slight grin. Given the realm description, the encounter will likely involve divine-level powers. That explains the lingering aura of a "great being." Thirty seconds later, the divine eyes king vanished from the simple, rustic mud house. The King of the Mago-Eye saw his vision blur. As the scene gradually settled into stillness, he heard阵阵 roars, thunderous clashing, and sharp cries—chaotic, piercing, as though immersed in the midst of a tumultuous battlefield. No, not merely as though… The Mago-Eye now clearly perceived the surroundings. He was indeed embedded within the battlefield. There were warriors clad in animal hides, their muscular forms bare, wearing bronze masks shaped like spirits. Others wore wreaths woven from green leaves, riding massive tigers, black leopards, and elephants. Some were warriors whose bodies burned with flames, constantly exploding in bursts of energy. There were stone giants, towering two meters tall, composed of rugged stone blocks. Their common trait was wearing animal hides, and their weapons were either stone or made of animal bones—except for the warriors wearing bronze masks, who wielded bronze weapons. Additionally, there were deformed creatures: three-headed wolves, four-eyed elephants, six-tailed tigers, and one-legged birds. This was a battle from an ancient era—an epic conflict, the war of the ancient "Spirit Travelers." The water spirit, the earth monster, the wood deity, the fire master, the swordmaster... King Mago of the Divine Eye surveyed the warriors, identifying each of their professions, of course including the warriors wearing bronze masks—the spirits of persuasion. Clearly, the five core professions—metal, wood, water, fire, and earth—belonged to the same faction, united in their resistance against the spirits of persuasion and the mutated beasts. These beasts varied in strength—some possessed immense power, others breathed flames, and still others emitted piercing cries that seemed to tear souls asunder. With his broad experience, King Mago instantly recognized that these mutated beasts originated from the first region's afflicted individuals—specifically, those contaminated by the mutation. Had the people of the first region participated in the ancient Battle of Zhuolu? "Whoa!" A fiery sphere of intense heat surged toward him, striking precisely at his chest. He staggered back two steps, feeling the searing pain. Looking down, he saw his chest marred—tissue blurred, skin melted, flesh carbonized, and vital organs compromised. What on earth? A mere fireball of this intensity? Is this what the Battle of Zhuolu was like? In astonishment, a warrior riding a splendid, multicolored tiger charged through several bronze-masked warriors, delivering a massive bone staff that crashed down upon him. The sound of the impact was sharp and piercing. The King of the Mystic Eyes instantly manifested his tripartite, six-armed form, using both arms to deflect the blow. "Boom!" The surge of air exploded like a missile impact, shattering the weapons he had conjured. The King of the Mystic Eyes staggered slightly, his knees bending, barely managing to stay upright. At the same time, the warrior who had just launched a fireball reappeared within the expanding blaze, his bone dagger now blazing with intense flame, piercing through the King of the Mystic Eyes' chest. A sharp hiss, and the bone dagger emerged from his front, leaving a dark-red wound devoid of blood. The King of the Mystic Eyes snarled with a grim smile, sharply turning his head, and a beam of golden-red light erupted from his forehead. The fire mage froze—his body flames surged wildly, boiling and trembling, losing control. The King of the Mystic Eyes used his four arms to push back the rider on the splendid tiger, while the other four arms The Fire Warrior shattered into four fragments, and his flesh gradually released pure crimson energy, flowing continuously into the Mouth and Nose of the Mage-Eye Emperor. With a single arm movement, the Mage-Eye Emperor opened a series of crimson-gold eyes across his body, radiating beams filled with an atmosphere of decay and enchantment. Instantly, the battlefield was enveloped in a sense of decay, and the surrounding warriors clutched their heads, shrieking in agony, falling into frenzied madness. Their faces were considerably broader than those of modern people, with clearly defined facial muscles, and their beards—thick, unruly, and never trimmed—looked like those of a group of primitive, hunter-gatherer tribesmen. The King of the Mystic Eyes surveyed the warriors and was stunned to find that even the lowest-ranked among them were Mist Lords, with numerous peak Saint-level warriors, and more than a handful of ancient, sovereign-level war gods. This was merely the tip of the iceberg in the Battle of Zhuolu. How much greater must the strength of Chiyou and Huangdi's main forces have been? A celestial struggle! At that moment, an ancient war god approached—tall and solid as a tower, with a dark, metallic sheen to his skin. He had eight arms waving freely, three heads on his neck, each with wide mouths and sharp fangs, and eyes like copper bells—his form resembling a yaksha. Upon seeing this towering figure, the King of the Mystic Eyes instantly recalled the corresponding information: One of the leaders of the Jiuli tribe, named Man—Chiyou's brother! Or rather, all the ancient war gods present, including the King of the Mystic Eyes Chiyou had 81 brothers, each with copper heads and iron chests, eating raw flesh and drinking blood, skilled in wielding spears, swords, halberds, and bows and arrows—brave and courageous, unmatched in battle. These descriptions precisely refer to the ancient war gods. "Yu, have you received the blessing of the leader?" Man reviewed his brother, the bloodlight blazing in his bell-like eyes, extending his steel-firm hands and clapping firmly on the shoulders of the Mage-Eye King. He spoke in an ancient tongue, which the Mage-Eye had never heard before, yet through the spiritual realm's natural translation, he understood perfectly. The Mage-Eye King nodded, accepting the acknowledgment, but did not stop. His enchanting mage-eyes could influence half-gods, surpassing even the realm of sovereigns—this might be something the ancient war gods of the Jiuli clan could not fully comprehend. Man then pulled a leg from a human body, gnawed it thoroughly, and handed the Mage-Eye King an arm, his voice deep and resonant like thunder: "Quick, eat! The remnants of the Flame Emperor have all been eliminated. We must reach Zhuolu and fight the For heaven's sake, the leader intended to first absorb the Yan Emperor's power, then grow strong before engaging the Youxiong clan in battle. "But for heaven's sake, the Yan Emperor and the Youxiong clan have unexpectedly reached an agreement—such deep-seated enmity shouldn't be so easily resolved. There must be something amiss." Did the Yan Emperor and the Yellow Emperor harbor a blood feud? The Mage-Eyed King thought, asking, "What could possibly be the cause of conflict between the Yan and Youxiong clans?" The barbarian chewed on a human leg, saying, "The Yan Emperor commands the Fire Spirit, while the Youxiong clan possesses both Wood and Earth virtues. Whoever can defeat the other and seize their spiritual essence will become the dominant ruler of the Nine Provinces, standing on par with the Nüwa Emperor. They fought at Banquan—Yan Emperor was defeated, and the leader led his nine Li tribes to repel the Youxiong forces and saved the Yan Emperor. The leader had hoped to strike decisively when the Yan Emperor was weakened, but instead, the Yan and Yellow clans united. The Mage-Emperor suddenly recalled many things. The Primordial Sovereign had once said, "The Five Elements—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—can merge into a single unity, giving rise to Chaos. During last year's Wind and Thunder Dual Deities incident, it was precisely the five Grand Masters who grasped the secret of the Five Elements that enabled them to counter the evil faction's schemes." Therefore, the root of the Battle of Banquan must lie in the struggle between the Flame Emperor and the Yellow Emperor over the authority of semi-divine status? The Jiuli tribal forces supporting the Flame Emperor were aiming to prevent the emergence of a semi-divine figure of exceptional rank within the orderly faction! Indeed, this S-tier quest was no ordinary one—merely these insights were already invaluable. The semi-divine beings and the peak Sovereigns had truly come to master the secrets of the Spiritual Realm. The Mage-Emperor thought to himself. At that moment, the wild beast, having finished devouring a human leg, cast aside the bones still clinging to flesh and blood, and roared, "The warriors of Jiuli shall follow and proceed to Zhuolu to assist the leader in defeating the Youcheng clan." The enchanting … sunlight, sand, waves, birdsong… Zhang Yuanqing awoke from sleep, finding himself nestled beneath the dappled tree shadows, with the beach and sea just a short distance away. In his arms lay a golden-haired girl, her skin as creamy as milk, her features exquisite and flawless—so beautiful that it left him parched and breathless. Clearly, he and the girl had just engaged in a deep, meaningful conversation. He had moved to bestow his life essence upon her, and she had generously returned the favor. Zhang Yuanqing remembered vividly the unforgettable experience of last night—yes, he had entered the realm yesterday, and immediately, due to his unique constitution, he had shared a intimate connection with the girl. He was the half-brother of the goddess Aphrodite and a human, born out of her infidelity. Aphrodite, unwilling to reveal his true identity, had kept him as a slave on the island of Paphos—where Aphrodite herself had been born and where she maintained her earthly palace. His name is Amine, a demi-god—half god, half man, a demi-god. The young girl beside him is a minor deity (servant) of Aphrodite.