Yet the Yaksha King was hardly a simple opponent. With a sweep of his trident, a colossal shield materialized from the ocean depths, intercepting the fierce barrage of cannon fire. Furthermore, he summoned a surging water dragon, counter-attacking Ajana with overwhelming momentum. With a resounding bang, the water dragon disintegrated into a storm of watery arrows, shrouding everything beneath them.

“Guardian of Light.”

Ajana murmured softly. As white light surged, a luminous shield enveloped her body, allowing the water arrows—capable of piercing thick rock or steel—to strike harmlessly against it. The longsword of white light in her hand danced and flashed, sending streaks of white energy blades slicing into the distance.

The ensuing exchange was one of clashing lightning and earth-shattering power. Countless creatures hiding in the sea, unable to evade the crossfire, were utterly pulverized by the chaotic energies.

After a full half-hour, the spectators had retreated to a distance of one hundred and fifty li, yet they could still feel the violent impacts. The struggles between true Deity Transformation Realm experts were simply too terrifying.

Such powerful beings indeed contained an immeasurable reservoir of strength within their bodies; compared to lower-tier cultivators, it was almost an endless firmament. However, every move, every stance in their battle consumed prodigious amounts of power.

As the fight dragged on, both seemed visibly fatigued. The Yaksha King, failing to dodge a sword light in time, was struck squarely, causing his frame to stagger, revealing a gaping vulnerability.

In a contest between masters, how could the slightest opening be tolerated?

“Great Cannon of Light.” Ajana’s eyes brightened. She immediately clasped her hands together, unleashing the Great Cannon of Light with the utmost effort. The highly condensed beam shot forward at terrifying speed, instantly striking the stumbling Yaksha King.

“Ajana, you are still too naive.” The Yaksha King, who had prepared for this, instantly flickered to appear directly above Ajana, thrusting his trident downward, sending waves of golden light washing over her.

That previous opening was merely a deliberate feint, designed to lure Ajana into a trap.

The immensely powerful Great Cannon of Light had only struck an afterimage conjured by the Yaksha King. With a deafening boom, it plunged into the water, erupting in a spectacular spray of spray, the searing light energy instantly vaporizing countless volumes of seawater, sending clouds of white steam billowing upwards.

“Thus saith the Light—the power of the Divine cannot be broken.”

Even one as strong as Ajana found it difficult to retreat unscathed against the Yaksha King’s ferocious assault. Yet, contrary to the King’s expectation, such authoritative words were spoken from Ajana’s sensual lips.

Simultaneously, a semi-transparent, curved shield materialized before Ajana, its white energy so dense it appeared almost substantial. Innumerable faint golden, profound runes ceaselessly flowed across the shield, brimming with solemn and mighty power.

The golden rays from the trident hammered against the shield like a violent storm. The shield rippled intensely under the impact, but supported by the golden runes, it resisted destruction, barely holding on.

Seeing his stratagem fail, the Yaksha King flickered far away again. Geysers of water erupted from the turbulent sea surface, and he stood suspended in mid-air above them, his dark, ugly face etched with profound solemnity. “Grand Prophecy Technique. I did not expect your aptitude, Ajana, to be so exceptional?”

The Grand Prophecy Technique was an immensely powerful mystic art of the Winged God Clan, capable of distorting and altering the laws of nature to a certain degree. It was flexible and versatile, applicable across numerous domains.

When cultivated to its highest realm, this technique could achieve a state where words become law.

This was somewhat akin to the Netherworld Ghost Emperor’s Divine Word Art of the Underworld. Its power was heaven-defying, but its cultivation difficulty was equally immense. The reason the Netherworld Ghost Emperor was so fearsome was not solely due to his mid-stage Deity Transformation strength; the Divine Word Art made experts of the same rank wary. Anything that could command, distort, or even change fundamental laws was inherently terrifying.

Deity Transformation experts could comprehend and utilize the Law of Space to a degree. However, they could only use it within the boundaries permitted by and their understanding of the spatial laws. They could not alter the Law of Space itself. The exaggeration in magnitude between the two was incomparable.

This level of art could no longer be termed a mere technique; it fell into the realm of Divine Arts.

One who can alter the laws within a certain scope is essentially a god. Within their domain, whatever they declare becomes reality.

Of course, the conditions for cultivating both the Netherworld Ghost Emperor’s Divine Word Art and Ajana’s Grand Prophecy Technique were exceedingly rigorous. Moreover, neither had grasped more than the very surface—and in Ajana’s case, she hadn't even scratched the surface.

“A pity, a pity. You have not studied the Grand Prophecy Technique for long. If your skill were only this much, this King would have a fifty percent chance of ensuring your demise on the spot.” The Yaksha King sneered coldly, the pale cyan aura around him growing denser.

Divine Arts demanded a heavy toll on true essence. A simple use of the Prophecy Art significantly reinforced her Light Guardian defense, yet it consumed several times more energy than her Great Cannon of Light. Even for an expert of her caliber, casting the unpracticed Grand Prophecy Technique left her slightly breathless, her stance unsteady in the air. Yet, her gaze was exceptionally resolute: “I admit, Yaksha King, your strength is beyond my expectation. But if you wish me to perish, I, Ajana, have a hundred percent certainty of forcing you to recuperate on the seabed for a century.”

“Oh? Merely with your Grand Prophecy Technique that barely counts as a fragment?” The Yaksha King scoffed, yet slowly retracted his trident. “In truth, we both understand that the only reason this King hesitates to strike lethally is the terrifying faction behind you. However, if you truly dare to rely on your backing to act recklessly everywhere, you will sooner or later face consequences. Enough talk. This King takes his leave.”

With that, the Yaksha King flashed away and vanished from the scene. The colossal water column dissolved into a misty rain, ethereal and strangely beautiful. He left behind a somewhat stunned Ajana. In truth, she had lost this battle somewhat unfairly; in terms of pure strength, she wasn't far inferior to the Yaksha King. It was simply her eagerness for a quick victory that led her into his trap, forcing her to deploy the rudimentary Grand Prophecy Technique, which drained her vital energy significantly.

But she also had to acknowledge that the Yaksha King's seasoned experience forced her to suppress her arrogance and stop viewing other races with a condescending air.

The retreating Yaksha King also felt a lingering fear. This Ajana was unexpectedly formidable. He needed to remember that he was fighting on his home turf, possessing boundless water energy to draw upon and expend, which gave him the confidence to defeat and annihilate her. If the fight had taken place purely in the sky or on land, it would have been a much harder battle.

Moreover, for Ajana to be so young and yet have cultivated the Winged God Clan’s supreme technique, the Grand Prophecy Art—even if she had only grasped its fringes—what about the future? Several centuries, or even a millennium from now? The Yaksha King even had a premonition that if this Ajana did not perish, she might indeed ascend to the absolute peak of this heaven and earth, her achievements potentially surpassing even the current greatest experts like the Netherworld Ghost Emperor.

In the underwater city, having perceived the situation remotely through a secret art, Lei Dong had led five hundred Yaksha elites away from the Yaksha Sea in secret while he and Ajana were fighting. This filled the Yaksha King with both the excitement of the plan's commencement and a tremor of fear regarding the drastic changes the future might hold.

“Lei Dong, Lei Dong, the very existence of my clan rests entirely on your shoulders. You must not disappoint this King.” Even while regulating his heavily depleted true essence, the Yaksha King sighed with anxiety. Fortunately, Lei Dong left a profound impression on him; though young, he was exceptionally composed and seasoned. The Yaksha King himself also held great affection and trust for Lei Dong. Furthermore, since this path was forced by necessity, his mind settled considerably.

Leaving the Yaksha King to his worries, Lei Dong led the five hundred elite Yaksha into the Eastern Sea, feeling a surge of exhilaration. The Yaksha King's action symbolized binding the entire Yaksha Clan to his war chariot.

Of the troops he brought out, ten were at the Nascent Soul level, and the rest were at the Golden Core level. This force was more than enough to sweep through any top sect in Kang Province. With such military strength, Lei Dong was highly confident in his ability to annihilate even a lone Deity Transformation expert, provided that expert was by themselves.

As for Lei Dong’s own recovery, much of it was due to Tantai Bingyun’s ‘sacrifice.’

Lei Dong first sent Tantai Bingyun back to the Heavenly Sound Palace, hoping she could persuade her master, Ji Qingtong, at the critical juncture. That Ji Qingtong was no simple figure; although she currently held no administrative duties in the Heavenly Sound Palace, when she chose to act, she was a ruthless figure whom no one dared to defy. She also wielded immense influence among the Four Great Orthodox Sects, given that the elder was one of the few figures at the peak of the Nascent Soul realm in the entire Kang Province.

Only half a month passed in a flash. The siege by the Three Great Sects against the headquarters of the Yin Sha Sect remained deadlocked. Although many peripheral forces of the Yin Sha Sect had wavered and attempted to defect during the process, the timely reaction of the Yin Sha Sect prevented any fundamental damage. The headquarters maintained a single strategy: absolute defense, daring the Three Great Sects to attack their main stronghold directly.

However, the alliance of the Three Great Evil Sects was somewhat dismissive. Although the war was stalemated, the fall of the Yin Sha Sect seemed inevitable; there was no need to risk lives by crashing head-on against their protective mountain array.

Unfortunately, the Three Great Evil Sects could never have predicted that the current, low-profile Lei Dong was already weaving a massive net, silently preparing to capture them all in one sweep.

The night deepened.

Few extraneous individuals dared approach the headquarters of the Yin Yang Harmonious Union Sect, leading to a perceived laxity in their defenses, with even the protective mountain array maintained at minimal power consumption. The arrogant top-tier sect could not fathom that within the serene darkness, a predator was baring its fangs, watching intently.