"Sect Master Mei. So perfect. Everything is proceeding according to plan! Deep within the asteroid belt outside Paradise City, aboard a cloaked spaceship. Pirate King Nab shouted at the screen.

As the master of Paradise City and the leader of the foremost pirate group in the asteroid belt, it wasn't difficult for Nab to acquire a stealth vessel. Of course, this was the type of cloaking developed through specialized research—expensive and impractical—but in the context of a simple cosmic backdrop, it was more than sufficient.

Displayed on the screen was the great battle taking place within Paradise City. Nab had installed surveillance cameras in nearly every corner of the city, projecting the entire battlefield vividly before his eyes.

'Baluomon's appearance, while unexpected, is also within reason. To effectively kill one Peak Master, at least two Zenith Masters are required. I initially believed the partnership of Agon and Merlin would be more than enough to eliminate Horace, but Baluomon's arrival has caused the situation to slip slightly out of grasp. Fortunately, Merlin brought along three Master-level experts, which means at the very least, we can inflict a crushing defeat upon them; losing an arm or a leg shouldn't be an issue. However, actually killing any one of them will likely be difficult, unless those two people… never mind, those two are not under my control; I cannot rely on them.'

Nab rubbed his hands together, as if observing a masterpiece of his own making nearing its completion step by step.

'Agon is now far from the main battlefield with Horace. Is he settling their personal feud once and for all? A one-on-one duel? That’s quite dangerous. But Agon must have already made up his mind now,' Nab murmured to himself.

'Grandpa, why must Grandpa Agon fight Horace to the death?'

Questioning the Pirate King was the young Apollo. In the world of ordinary people, he would likely still be a middle-schooler, but here, he was being raised as the Pirate King’s successor.

'You haven't heard the full story about this before. Nab replied softly, 'It’s not the right time now either. The enmity between Agon and Horace isn't something that can be explained in a few sentences; it happened a very long time ago. If I started from the beginning, we might not even be halfway through by the time they decide the victor.'

Apollo looked surprised. 'That complicated? Then can you give me the short version, Grandpa?' Apollo stepped forward, taking Nab’s hand and shaking it, then moved behind Nab to start massaging his back.

Nab showed no change in expression, focused intently on the screen, making Apollo think his attempts at flattery were wasted. Just as he was about to stop, Nab spoke: 'A series of events occurred decades ago. At that time, Agon promised a certain human woman he would never participate in war again, which drew the hostility of the Ancient Legion, and he was branded a traitor.'

Apollo listened, nodding along, occasionally making appreciative sounds. But Nab only uttered that one sentence and then stopped. Apollo hummed for a while longer, then said with a wry face, 'Grandpa, just one sentence? That’s far too little.'

A habitual cold smirk crossed Nab’s face, and he let out a low hum. 'Within the Bai Yuan Cult, there was someone deeply connected to Agon—Ulysses, the Number One Emissary of the Ape. He is also the genesis of the feud between Horace and Agon.'

On the screen, Horace and Agon were unleashing every skill they possessed, forcing the camera angles to shift frequently because the cameras couldn't sustain observation for more than a few seconds.

However, this only attested to the intensity of the battle!

Agon was seen wildly slashing with his light staff, accompanied by a torrent of wind blades directed at Horace, while roaring, 'Horace, why isn't Ulysses here? For the past six months, you’ve kept him inseparable from you, clearly to prevent me from contacting him. But where have you hidden him today?'

'I have no need to tell you. Ulysses is one of the best tools in my hand. His aptitude for psychokinesis and swordsmanship is unlike anything I have ever seen. Although he is currently only at the Quasi-Master level, even alone against a Master-level expert, he can hold his own for a significant time.'

Horace parried Agon’s light staff while using his psychokinesis to deflect the wind blades around him. Agon was a master of wind-elemental magic, so Horace managing to deflect them was already quite an achievement.

Horace had suffered quite a few losses in previous engagements, and his psychokinetic energy consumption was more severe than Agon's, making his fighting style slightly more conservative.

Agon’s eyes widened in fury as he roared, 'If it weren't for the overbearing indoctrination techniques of the Bai Yuan Cult suppressing Ulysses's personality, leaving his mind incomplete and unable to grasp the true meaning of transcending to sainthood, with his talent, he would have become a Master twenty years ago!'

'Hahaha,' Horace laughed at the accusation. 'Over the years, Ulysses has rendered meritorious service to the Bai Yuan Cult numerous times. I promoted him to Number One Emissary of the Ape; his contributions to the Legion far outweigh yours. Though... speaking of which, Ulysses's contributions are indirectly yours as well, hahaha.'

Yang Ying also paid close attention to this entire exchange. Although he didn't know the specifics of what happened long ago, it was clear that Horace was trying to use words to provoke Agon, hoping to make his offense more frenzied, causing him to overlook his dwindling psychokinetic reserves…

'It's useless, Horace. These past years, I have thought about this matter day and night. All the sorrow, all the pain, all the memories—I have experienced them countless times already. Your few pale words pale in comparison to the decades of self-reflection I've endured. They can't affect me in the slightest.'

Agon showed no sign of losing his footing: 'I don't think you’d let Ulysses stray too far from you either. I have a feeling he will appear today, and today, I must settle this with you once and for all!'

Meanwhile, on the battlefield where Baluomon and Master Merlin clashed, their swords met staffs, ice met fire, interspersed with pieces of rock flying at speeds many times the speed of sound. No living thing could survive within the entire engagement zone.

Boom!

A thick beam of light, over three meters in diameter, swept across, collapsing an entire row of more than a dozen buildings. Smoke and dust billowed instantly, engulfing half of Paradise City.

'Merlin, seriously, why did you have to wade into this mess?' Baluomon argued while fighting. 'Can you feel it? There are still many humans in this city. If we continue fighting like this, they will also be killed by the aftershocks!'

'What a joke, Baluomon. If I let you leave, will you ever give up slaughtering humans?' Master Merlin retorted without hesitation.

Baluomon didn't answer; it was undoubtedly impossible.

Master Merlin’s sword momentum grew fiercer. Every thrust contained myriad variations. Sometimes a strike seemingly aimed from the left would instantly appear on the right. Sometimes a downward chop seemed to emanate from all directions with flashing sword light.

'Incredible. Master Merlin has integrated true phantoms into every sword strike, perfectly blending magic and swordsmanship. With my eyesight, I can’t even discern the real sword's position,' Yang Ying mused to himself that he probably couldn't withstand three strikes unless he transformed into the Blade Emperor state, perhaps allowing him to hold on for a few more.

'Baluomon, haven't you heard? This city is called the City of Sin. It exists to satisfy the dark aspects of the human heart. If it weren't for the stipulations agreed upon with the government back then—that the Psionic Monastery is forbidden from interfering in the affairs of the Unawakened—this place would have been leveled long ago. Many people who were once kind have fallen in this city, and those filled with selfish desires create cruelty and tragedy here. Every visitor who comes here deserves a death sentence in court, yet they always walk away unharmed because they have powerful protectors behind them.'

Master Merlin’s sword began to press against Baluomon’s defensive perimeter. Then, a flash of golden light occurred, slicing Baluomon’s left leg. Baluomon staggered back two steps, sweeping his light staff in a circle around him to block two silver light swords stabbing from behind, simultaneously unleashing an ice ring that expanded outward from his body, pushing back enemies nearby.

Suddenly, two thin water blades, moving incredibly fast yet winding cunningly, lunged towards him. Baluomon flickered, evading the water blades, and then snatched a piece of rubble from the debris raining down from the air, throwing it forcefully toward Master Pang Qian, who had sent the water blades.

The rubble howled towards Master Pang Qian, but he brought his hands together, stopping the stones before him and bouncing them back. Master Pang Qian’s swordsmanship wasn't high, but his magical cultivation was no less than that of some veteran Masters over a hundred years old, only slightly below a Zenith Master.

Master Merlin pressed closer to Baluomon: 'There is nothing worth keeping about this city itself; leveling it would be a good thing. There might be a few innocent people among its inhabitants, but now is not the time for misplaced sentimentality. Baluomon, though you are eloquent, you must use your true skills to stay alive!'

'Fine, I'll show you my true skills!'

Baluomon roared, brandishing his light staff and continuing to fight Master Merlin. Although he was outnumbered and at a disadvantage, he was not on the verge of defeat in the short term.

Both battlefronts were locked in a stalemate for the time being.

After some more time passed, Horace and Agon had exchanged over a thousand moves. Horace's eyes suddenly flashed with a crimson light, like an erupting volcano. A scorching wave of psychokinetic energy swept up surrounding rebar, steel plates, iron frames, and other metal objects. This metal rapidly melted in the intense heat, glowing red and softening until it turned into a viscous state, then coalesced into two masses.

Horace molded the two masses of molten steel into giant hands, each the size of a car, and grabbed toward Agon.

Agon dared not be careless. With a thought, he violently compressed the surrounding air. He himself seemed to transform into a bottomless wind tunnel, rapidly sucking in the air around him, quickly forming two fist-sized, faintly glowing orbs.

'Go!' Agon pointed forward, and the two orbs instantly detonated directionally, forming two wind pillars as thick as water barrels. Like two miniature tornadoes, they drilled into the palms of the steel giant hands. The compressed explosive force of the wind was so fierce that it quickly pierced the palms of the giant hands and then expanded into two powerful hurricanes, carrying wind blades that swept over Horace, engulfing him and slicing him repeatedly.