Winny Burnt gazed at Zhang Yuanqing and asked, "Besides this, do you have anything you'd like to tell me?" What she wanted was obvious. Zhang Yuanqing looked back at the cold, elegant new contract district chief prosecutor, sighed, "Why should it be *my* responsibility to handle the emotional debts of the original entity!" After muttering this complaint, he smiled wistfully, "Love, I understand what you're implying. I can swear to you that my feelings for you are as intense and enduring as the sun's core—my past indifference wasn't due to a cold heart, but rather because I had to act that way. In fact, it was precisely because I deeply loved you that I didn't want to hurt you. Now that I've fully recovered and no longer suffer from the cup's contamination, there are no longer any obstacles between us. My love for you will continue until the world itself is destroyed." Winny Burnt remained outwardly composed, offering a cool, reserved smile, "Perhaps, the world will be gone by tomorrow. Zhang Yuanqing spoke with conviction: "Therefore, I will do everything I can to save the world—not out of duty, not for the nation, but simply so that I can continue to love you." Winnie Burent blinked, finally, finally... she saw the魔君 again! Though the魔君 was often gloomy and sharp, he was also carefree, skilled in sweet words, and occasionally cast a mysterious smile—full of distinct personality and charm. Winnie had once imagined, if the Holy Grail hadn't been corrupted, what he might have looked like! Now she had her answer. This was precisely how her魔君 appeared after being freed from the corruption. A sense of rekindled love stirred within her, though she still maintained her composed, icy demeanor, saying: "Your insincere flattery has grown tiresome. If you wish to reclaim the Cat King speaker, I'll give it to you—myself, I don't particularly care." Winnie opened her desk drawer and tossed the palm-sized black speaker over. Zhang Yuanqing reached out to catch him. Since the duplicate had no inventory, he tucked him into his pocket, exhaled a sigh of relief, and smiled, saying, "Dear sister, if the world isn't destroyed, I'll marry you with an eight-pole sedan." With the world on the brink of destruction, why be so serious? He wasn't averse to saying heartfelt words or making hasty promises—just that the listeners would feel happy. At the moment of薇妮's sudden stillness, Zhang Yuanqing dissolved into starlight. A few minutes later, the duplicate Zhang Yuanqing appeared in an empty room in Xin Yue County, where the windows and doors had been sealed with wooden planks. He sat cross-legged by the window, where sunlight filtered through, gazing at the cat king speaker before him. After a moment's thought, he said, "I'd like to hear all the audio recordings I've made after reaching the Saint's Realm." The Ram's Array. The King of Fear, gazing at Fu Qingyang and the King of the Magician's Eye standing side by side, smiled warmly. "You two—one is my former subordinate, the other my training class junior from back then. You're both familiar to me, with no grudges. Why not simply coexist peacefully within the realm, waiting for the outcome?" Upon hearing this, the composed and watchful expression on Fu Qingyang's face softened, and the focus and alertness in his eyes faded. In the very next moment, his gaze reignited with determination, and he summoned the Golden Dragon Sword without hesitation—making it clear his resolve. He had nearly been swayed, losing his fighting spirit. Fortunately, the unyielding resolve of a swordsman combined with Qian Gong's natural competitiveness allowed him to regain his composure and rekindle his courage. Turning to the King of the Magician's Eye, Fu Qingyang asked, "How would you rate the King of Fear's combat prowess?" Among the half-gods of the Lawful and Chaotic factions, the King of Fear ranked at the bottom in terms of combat strength—this was largely due to his age. He shared the same birth year as Fu Qingxuan and The path of cultivation emphasizes gradual accumulation and breakthrough through sustained effort. Compared to half-gods who have spent a century refining their practice and achieving renown over a half-century, even in terms of skill application, spell development, and equipment accumulation, the Fear King falls significantly short. Yet, a half-god remains a half-god—capable of instantly defeating a Sovereign and even overpowering a peak Sovereign with a mere skill display. Such beings command partial rule-based powers. The Mage-Eye King sneered, "Last place! But don't worry—I'll be more than capable of taking you on. Since I've entered the Ninth Rank, my status has become nearly equal to his. My Eye of Influence now possesses rule-based power. Therefore, in this battle, I will take the lead, and you will support me." In truth, the Eye of Influence had already taken shape as a rule-based ability even before the Mage-Eye ascended to Sovereign status, and upon reaching that rank, it was further strengthened, fully evolving into a rule-based skill. Whoever looks at me will lose control! Fu Qingyang glanced at him, calmly stating, "My strike also now embodies rule-based power." "The Mages' King gave a slight lift of his嘴角, 'But you're certainly no match for me, for I still have my reserve strength.' Fu Qingyang remained expressionless, 'Who doesn't have reserves?' 'My reserves are definitely stronger than yours,' the Mages' King nodded slightly. The King of Mystic Eyes suddenly grew towering, his muscles swelling, his skin turning pure black with a metallic sheen. Cracks appeared across his ribcage, from which thick, powerful arms surged forth, coalescing into weapons—swords, spears, halberds, lances, and staffs. Like a thousand-armed Rakshasa, he proudly displayed his array of arms and surged forward toward the King of Fear. At the same time, Fu Qingyang opened his inventory, pulling out a golden dragon-shaped longsword and a black cloak embroidered with golden cloud patterns. The cloak unfolded with a rustling sound and was draped over his back. Fu Qingyang's aura surged steadily, each pore exuding sharp, piercing sword energy—like a legendary blade just drawn from its scabbard. At this moment, even a ruler of nine levels or below would have his eyes blinded by the sheer brilliance of that sword energy. Fu Qingyang poured all his sword energy into the golden dragon sword, then forcefully planted his right foot and launched a decisive strike. No hesitation, no warm-up—right from the start, he unleashed his full power. Yet, astonishingly, the formidable sword energy vanished instantly upon leaving the sword's blade. At a distance, as soon as the King of Fear regained his stunned gaze, his trachea was silently severed, the wound spreading and deepening outward, fracturing his cervical bones until only a few strips of skin and flesh remained attached at the back of his neck. His head hung grotesquely from his back, nearly severed entirely. Fu Qingyang's sword strike had indeed aimed to cleave off his head, though it fell short. Could it be that his technique had nearly reached the level of Dao, allowing him to execute attacks from a distance? The King of Magic Eyes was startled—Fu Qingyang's strikes had already been impossible to evade, and now, with the ability to strike from afar, the defense became even more precarious. Despite his astonishment, he did not relinquish the opportunity created by his companions. With his eight arms wielding weapons in rapid succession, he unleashed a torrent of blows upon the King of Fear, who stood clad in a crisp, tailored suit. Whether cutting, splitting, hammering, or piercing, the ancient war god's weapons, imbued with inherent effects of armor penetration and bleeding, inflicted wounds upon the King of Fear's formidable physique. Cracks appeared in his flesh and bones, ligaments snapped, and flesh tore The King of Mystic Eyes raised his long sword and powerfully descended, cleaving through with a sharp *thwip*—the head of the King of Fear was severed entirely and rolled to the ground. The head, bathed in a blood-toned glow, stirred its eyes, awakening from a state of dazed stillness. As the eyes rolled upward, pupils burst forth with two sharp, piercing streams of sword-like energy, resembling blinding lightning. The two flying swords descending from the sky were deflected off course, "popping" into the desert and vanishing. Then, the head of the King of Fear opened its mouth and bit down on the two flying swords rushing toward its face, its pale teeth crunching with a sharp sound, ultimately chewing the swords into fragments. Finally, it rotated its head side to side, puffing out its cheeks and expelling the sword fragments with a series of "pff" sounds, sending the two swords that had been circling toward its back flying off. Before being corrupted into a mesmerizing spirit-being, the King of Fear had once been a scout, and a notably esteemed artisan of the Yanshi order. Meanwhile, the headless body of the King of Fear, its tailored suit on the back tearing open with a "shriek," grew sturdy arms along its ribcage. One of these arms, palm pressed flat like a blade, easily pierced the chest of the King of the Magi-E The King of Magical Eyes, towering over two meters, soared like a massive boulder across the desert, crashing into the ground and creating a series of deep craters, stirring up a swirling storm of yellow sand. The King of Fear approached steadily, gently lifting the head and pressing it against his neck, where bones clicked and seamlessly reconnected. He moved his neck, the joints emitting a series of crisp sounds, and two faint crimson beams merged into one, growing richer and more intense, like stage spotlights illuminating the King of Fear. Within his powerful, three-headed, eight-armed form, immense strength began to surge, and a fierce, bloodthirsty aura rapidly intensified. The King of Fear watched the two figures, a gentle smile playing on his lips, his eyes blazing crimson—like a relentless bloodthirsty killer—finishing the sentence he had been holding back: "You two must be... not taking me seriously at all!" Fu Qingyang looked up at the darkened sky, where the blood-red celestial body hung, instantly grasping the core of the issue. He turned to the King of Magical Eyes, who had returned from afar, and said: "I agree with your suggestion." "What suggestion?" The Mago-Eye King didn't immediately respond. Fu Qingyang said, "You go for offense—I'll take the support role!" He glanced at the Fear King, now seemingly divine and utterly consumed by bloodthirsty fury, and after a moment of silence, hesitantly asked, "You're never one to retreat, aren't you? Not even when it means death!" Fu Qingyang remained calm: "This isn't retreat—it's a well-justified tactical pairing!" The Mago-Eye King looked again at the Fear King, and, as a man of rigid conviction, willingly stepped back: "In fact, I could also handle support."