"High Priest!" The crisp command drew the elder's attention. He turned to see a breathtaking beauty materializing from the heavens. Her golden hair flowed in the wind, her flowing robe pressed against her by the breeze, accentuating her full, graceful figure. Her features were flawless, her grace alluring and captivating—every womanly charm in the world seemed concentrated within her. After witnessing such beauty, no other woman could be considered truly beautiful. Indeed, the High Priest immediately aimed his arrow at Sektia and released the bowstring without hesitation. The golden arrow transformed into a stream of golden light. Yet faster than that light were the stars—Zhang Yuanqing vanished before Sektia and raised a purple-golden circular shield. Absolute defense, activated! A towering shield wall of purple light rose, standing firmly in front of the two. This absolute defense of the purple-golden shield was Zhang Yuanqing's strongest defensive capability at present; he had fully charged the shield's energy before entering the dungeon. Then, he drew forth the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon, activating the shield form. The Five-Clawed Golden Dragon had just entered its lazy mode, indifferent to the fate of its master and wishing to settle in and sleep. But sensing the strength of the enemy and the power carried in the incoming arrow, it was startled into stillness, instantly coiling around the master's arm and activating its own defensive state. Subsequently, Zhang Yuanqing also generated a powerful electromagnetic barrier on his chest. "Boom!" The golden arrow struck the golden-purple shield wall, renowned for its absolute defense, shattering it into fragments—not melted by golden light, but exploding. While the shield wall could withstand any form of attack, including energy-based assaults, thus rendering the power of the Sun God ineffective, the golden arrow carried within it not only the Sun God's power but also the pure force infused by a Supreme Sovereign at the peak of his mastery. A Supreme Sovereign could suppress rules below the ninth level. The golden dragon silhouette coiled around the figure's body fragmented as well, followed by the electromagnetic barrier at his chest. After successfully breaching three layers of defense in one powerful surge, the golden arrow pierced through Zhang Yuanqing's chest. Drawing lessons from Eriega's earlier experience, Sektia had stepped aside early, avoiding the protection of her lover. The golden light plunged into the sea, echoing with deep, resonant thunder. Golden flames erupted once again from Zhang Yuanqing's seven orifices, though this time they were weaker than before, having been significantly depleted after passing through the three layers of defense—both the inherent power of the golden arrow and the Sun God's energy had been greatly diminished. The high priest raised his broad, white brows, impressed that this seemingly divine youth—so radiant and noble—had taken two arrows yet remained alive. After all, light power was the most dominant force in the world, even thunder and lightning had to yield to it. It was natural, given that the god-king had bestowed upon him a certain divine artifact before his departure, granting him the ability to withstand death. Indeed, the god-king was the lover of the goddess of beauty, and it was through her that the hero Eriphyle was born. Before leaving, he had ensured the safety of the island of Paphos—quite a reasonable gesture. She did not hurry to enter the dream, merely glancing at the primordial deity radiating a sense of dread. Visible between the crevices of the colossal clam's shell, thick streams of viscous mucus flowed steadily, dripping down like wet curtains, pooling on the ground—much like amniotic fluid during a woman's childbirth. The crevices widened, and a pale hand emerged, slowly lifting the upper portion of the shell. …… A dense fog blanketed the boundless territory of Zhulü, thick and unbroken. The King of the Magic Eyes stood proudly amidst the scattered corpses, his garments torn and his body streaked with blood, his breath heavy with the stench of rotting flesh and charred vegetation. Faint sounds of combat, explosions, and wild animal roars echoed from deep within the fog. Several wounded, aberrant creatures at his side fed on the fallen, tearing flesh, pulling out intestines, and consuming the bodies to satisfy their hunger and restore strength. The life-force-rich blood and flesh aided their healing and recovery. The King of the Magic Eyes exhaled slowly, then bent down to grasp a handful of soil, from which dark red blood seeped steadily Mian perished just an hour ago. They were attacked by a Nine-Rank Spring Deity. As the thirty-plus Fog Masters had just begun to gather and the dozen or so aberrant beasts rallied, they were swiftly torn apart by the host of creatures led by the Beast King. Mian fought the Deity for a full hour, only to finally overcome this vibrant, seemingly unstoppable force. Over the course of three days, Magi King with the Eye of the Divine remained unchanged in experience points, yet felt himself vastly stronger than before. This strength was forged in the blood-soaked battlefield. Not only he, but many of the fog masters at the peak of the sixth rank endured the intense warfare and, through sheer resilience, advanced directly into the realm of dominion. This is the power of the seductive beast—the ancient war gods emerge from endless battles. Yet the cost is immense. Of the over a hundred fog masters initially gathered, nearly all perished on the first day. As he and Man continuously gathered and reorganized the scattered fog masters lost in the thick fog, the force grew in size, only to see its ranks steadily thin. Thousands of fog masters must fall before one such ancient war god is born. Of course, the warriors of the Yan Huang faction suffered even greater losses, falling like wild grass, in waves and in clusters. This ancient campaign was designed to drive the entire continent’s cultivators to extinction. The strongest warriors from both factions climbed mountains and crossed icy rivers, ultimately burying themselves in the lands of Zhu Lu. "By clearing this instance, I'll reach level nine—just barely. But that's not enough. To help Yuan Shǐ compete for the throne of the Sun Sovereign, I must have a reserve strength. A reserve strength that could even match a peak Sovereign—no, even a half-deity!" The Mage-King gazed into the depths of the mist. For the past four days and four nights, he had moved freely within the mist, slaying beings and creatures as he encountered them, and fleeing whenever he met a Level Nine Sovereign. Yet he had never dared venture deeper into the mist. There, a constant allure permeated the air, gradually eroding the will of both humans and beasts, causing them to lose their sense of self and attack indiscriminately. There, the vital energy of life flowed ceaselessly, and at regular intervals, vast swaths of living beings were drained of their essence. There, the highest presence of the mesmerizing spirits resided. It was the battlefield between the Magus Ch'i-You and the Yan Huang. "Only by penetrating that battlefield can I gain the recognition of the Magus Ch'i-You!" The Mage-Eye King stretched his lips, his reason telling him clearly: go to hell—once he went, he’d die. Whether it was Chiyou or the Huangdi, both were outstanding among the half-gods, far surpassing the five official "useless" figures in reality. A single ripple of magic from such a battle would be enough to claim his life. Yet, without taking risks, how could he assist Yuan-Shi in securing the title of Sun Sovereign? If Yuan-Shi failed to become Sun Sovereign, how could all humanity remain bound by moral merit? As his thoughts spun, a sudden thunderclap erupted in the sky, shaking his blood and breath, blurring his vision. Then, fierce gales swept through, lifting thick mists into the heavens. What kind of wind could lift Chiyou’s dense mists into the sky? The Mage-Eye King felt a sudden chill, his eyes widening in astonishment. While gales could be controlled by the Rain Deity, the thunderclap just now clearly came from a Thunder Mage. Thus, the one who had stepped forward was a half-god of Wind and Thunder. Why did the ancient battle at Zhuolu see the emergence of a wind and thunder half-divine from the first major region? The Mago-Eye King glanced at the strange, deformed beast lying at his side, trembling and quivering, and his lingering doubts were finally confirmed. In ancient times, the half-divine champions from the three major regions frequently exchanged visits and interactions. The three myths describing the end-of-the-world event likely referred to the same occurrence. After that, the celestial and terrestrial spiritual energies began to wane, and gradually, the three regions saw no longer any immortals or half-divines. "Thud, thud, thud..." Suddenly, a drumming sound emerged from the thick mist, shaking the Mago-Eye King's vital energy and causing his inner spiritual power to become turbulent and lose control. The mesmerizing eyes on his skin, "startled," began to close one by one. "Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud..." More drumbeats rose steadily, each resonance reaching five hundred li, and continuing in succession over three thousand eight hundred li. The Mago-Eye King's heart ached violently, his vision darkened, and he nearly No. The Nine Heavens Immortal Female created the Kui-ox drum for Huangdi, and the Wind and Thunder half-deity dispersed the thick mist... The battle at Zhuolu is nearing its end. I must immediately head to the main battlefield... The Mage-Eye King gritted his teeth, staggering toward the depths of the mist. Yet in the very next moment, it radiated outward in all directions, a figure surging upward from the earth, breaking through the collapsing building structure and rising swiftly. The aura of high rank poured over the landscape, drawing the attention of Zhang Yuanqing, the High Priest, and the Divine Son at a distance. Sektyra exclaimed with delight, "A descendant of the Primordial God has been born!" But her words suddenly stalled in her throat as her pupils contracted slightly. A figure appeared unexpectedly beside her, pressing gently against her cheek, drawing in breaths to scent her presence. It was a girl of about twelve, still in the early stages of physical development—her hips not yet curved, her breasts not yet full—slender and fair, bare to the skin. She had beautiful golden hair and eyes as dark and pure as those of a newborn, expressing a cold, wild indifference. After gently sniffing Sektyra’s presence and confirming her identity, she extended her tongue with a touch of intimacy, lightly licking Sektyra’s cheek. Sektyra pointed toward the High Priest and urgently declared, "He is an enemy. Kill him!" The maiden immediately turned to the high priest, who instantly adjusted his "bow" and shot a golden arrow at her. A flash of golden light pierced through her snowy chest, and at once, golden blood surged from her chest and orifices, flowing like a blazing golden torch. Hmm? Watching the maiden consumed by the golden flames, Zhang Yuanqing was stunned. Was her combat awareness this poor? Despite her rank and strength, lacking experience in responding to battle? How could she possibly compete with a peak-level sovereign! Just as he thought this, the golden flames faded, and the maiden's charred body stood suspended in the air, her flesh rapidly regenerating and healing, returning to its original state. Yet her breath had noticeably weakened. The maiden, with her pure black eyes fixed on the high priest, raised her bow as well, with electric arcs "cracking" and forming a bow and arrow. When she released her index finger, a surge of plasma erupted, transforming the lightning into an arrow that pierced through the high priest's chest. From the high priest's orifices, bright blue electric light surged forth.