"Did you all hear what I just said?" Yikong asked the remaining young Winged People with a sigh. "If you wish to be incorporated into my ranks, you must become my subordinates and obey my orders completely. However, I can guarantee you one thing: as long as you do not violate any of the prohibitions within my army or betray the Master, I will stake my life to protect your safety and honor. Otherwise, there is nothing I can do to save you. Remember, you have only ten breaths of time to consider." The twelve remaining young Winged People exchanged pale, fearful glances. Their psychological defenses had been utterly shattered; their past naïveté crushed by the sudden brutality and reality of the situation.

At this moment, no one harbored any shred of complacency. They deeply understood the fate awaiting them if they refused incorporation into this faction of the Winged God Race. Especially concerning was the terrifying and utterly perverse Old Monster Yinyang, who was staring at them with a look of **wicked craving, as if anticipating their refusal to surrender so he could unleash his **evil and horrifying methods upon them.

"I... I surrender," one young Winged Person declared, his immature faith and convictions completely broken. "Regardless, you are still a powerful figure among our Winged God Race; being incorporated by you is not inappropriate." The excuse he used to console himself during surrender spread like a virus among the remaining Winged People. Many thought, Yes, this person is a powerhouse within the Winged God Race; aligning with him is harmless.

Often, once confidence wavers, it collapses like a mountain splitting apart, making recovery nearly impossible. With the first one setting the example, the psychological burden lessened significantly. Thus, following the first, a second and third quickly emerged.

When the ten breaths elapsed, only two Winged People, hardened by nature, still refused to yield. Instead, overwhelmed by grief and indignation, they began to curse loudly. They were not railing against Leidong or Old Monster Yinyang, but against Yikong and their defecting kin. Their curses made the surrendering tribesmen unbearably ashamed, their faces burning red.

"Jie jie jie—Time is up," Old Monster Yinyang cackled with an extremely spectral sound, activating the Scarlet Malice Mist and enveloping the two stubborn youths within it. "Old Demon loves these hard-boned little fellows the most, gaga ga. Brothers and sisters, hold them off for a while; Old Demon will go enjoy himself and be right back." His form dissolved into an ethereal mist, the crimson vapor shooting into a watchtower, followed by the continuous, distant sounds of his **laughter and the miserable, terrified cries of the two unyielding Winged People. Their fate was self-evident.

As a result, the shame felt by the newly surrendered young Winged People dissipated by more than half. In their sorrow for their fallen comrades, they instead felt fortunate for their choice, realizing that they narrowly avoided being participants in the **cruel incident unfolding within the watchtower.

Yikong began to play the benevolent role, offering comfort to the ten surrendered young Winged People. Simultaneously, he felt a slight surge of excitement. After all, although these ten surrendered to him, they were his first batch of core members. Yikong believed that with the Master's assistance, his cadre would grow ever stronger, making the complete revival of the Winged God Race from ruin entirely possible.

If the world required someone to whom Yikong would wholeheartedly submit and willingly serve as a subordinate, it was probably only Leidong. His potential was immense; when necessary, his heart was harder than iron, yet where loyalty and affection were due, he was more compassionate than anyone. Yikong knew he was far superior to Leidong in age and experience, but he also knew he could never compare to this Master. His greatest regret was listening to the Master's counsel and advice to break free from his Soul Slave status and become an independent entity. This action, he felt, was him proactively widening the distance between himself and the Master.

Later, when the Master sought his help and proposed a plan—with Yikong leading the charge to overthrow the corrupt and declining system of the current Winged God Race and establish a new one—Yikong pledged his loyalty to Leidong without a second thought. Having interacted with Leidong for a long time, Yikong deeply understood his Master's greatest characteristic and virtue: he never reneged on a promise to his own people. Furthermore, after the Master meticulously detailed the current Winged God Race's various flaws, developmental bottlenecks, and reasons for decline, Yikong’s conviction only solidified: to destroy the current rotten and selfish regime was both his responsibility as a member of the Winged God Race and a means to forge a fiercely loyal and powerful faction for the Master, working together to build a new world.

Yet, perhaps more profoundly, Yikong desired to cling to Leidong, this Master brimming with potential, to lead him and the entire Winged God Race toward glory, reclaiming the true honor of their people. Perhaps all these reasons were mere pretexts, but that mattered little, did it?

Next, it was time for Meiji to step forward. At this moment, the Insect King's nucleus was embedded into her forehead using a secret technique. This crystal-clear nucleus did not detract from her beauty; rather, it lent her an air of sanctity. The Yin-Yang Bliss Sect had never been renowned for combat strength, excelling instead in various arts of seduction, illusion, and bewitchment. Leidong giving her the Insect King nucleus was putting it to optimal use.

It was expected that she would soon be able to use the set of theories regarding the Winged God Race's sins, devised by Leidong, to gradually instill disgust and disappointment toward the current Eight Kings of the Winged God Race among these young and inexperienced members, leading them to join Leidong's ranks. Only by restraining the enemy with their own kind could they firmly establish themselves in this world. Since the Winged God Race had given Leidong a reasonably good pretext to exploit, Leidong would be foolish not to use it. Moreover, Leidong's actions were not solely intended to harm the Winged People; he genuinely intended to forge them into a formidable race—provided, of course, that this powerful race remained under his control.

Leidong certainly coveted the Water of Life, but the powerful Winged God Race army was also a necessity. Currently, no one felt more pressured than Leidong. The incomparably mighty Three Realms weighed upon him like three immense mountains, seemingly ready to crush him effortlessly at any moment. Before the situation escalated beyond his capacity to manage, Leidong had to rapidly expand his strength. Furthermore, relying on himself alone offered no future; even if he cultivated to unimaginable heights, could he single-handedly take on the Three Realms? That was merely the delusion of a fool.

As quick as thought. From the moment Leidong and his forces seized this fortress until now, less than half an incense stick's time had passed. Within the outer perimeter of the fortress, the non-on-duty, massive garrison finally mobilized. Led by Moke, a mid-stage Nascent Soul Winged Person, accompanied by three other Nascent Soul experts, over eighty Golden Core Winged People, and more than eight thousand Ironclad Knights, they had assembled in the inner city, roaring their battle cries as they advanced mightily.

Inside the fortress, the fighting on the ramparts had not yet fully concluded. Leidong's Netherworld Ghost Soldiers, though formidable, were only managing to suppress a contingent of the Ironclad Knights of equal number. Completely annihilating the enemy would require at least another half an hour. The longer the battle dragged on, the stronger the resistance exhibited by the humans became; groups of them, adhering to their training protocols, formed small defensive pockets, desperately resisting the charge of the scythe-wielding troops.

The slaughter atop the city wall was exceptionally brutal. However, the remaining seven or eight hundred humans, upon hearing that their main force seemed to be counterattacking, experienced a sudden surge of morale, shouting repeatedly, clearly intending to coordinate an attack from both inside and out.

"It is time to test their mettle," Leidong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching everything with cold indifference. The reason he had not ordered his Nascent Soul combatants into action was precisely to gauge the fighting power of his own core troops.

The Grotto-Heaven and Blessed Land, Leidong had completely refined into his Nascent Soul. Although the process had been extremely difficult, the benefit was evident. Now, Leidong could place the physical manifestation of the Grotto-Heaven and Blessed Land—which resembled a storage chest—inside his Nascent Soul, carrying it everywhere. As long as the temporal law acceleration was not activated, the Grotto-Heaven and Blessed Land suffered virtually no deterioration. Therefore, this portable domain could serve another function: as a readily accessible cache for troops.

After undergoing a round of frenzied collective cultivation, Leidong spent another one hundred and eight Celestial Spirit Stones. However, every expenditure proved worthwhile. This represented a substantial surge in the strength of Leidong's faction. Take, for instance, Leidong's Fierce Ghost Army—one of the core forces he placed immense hope in, having spent countless hours painstakingly training and instructing them. After undergoing repeated rounds of indoctrination, their loyalty to Leidong was beyond question.

The Fierce Ghost Army, built upon the initial five hundred recruits Leidong established, was expanded to over ten thousand following this complete cultivation within the Grotto-Heaven and Blessed Land. Unlike the previous time when Leidong blindly utilized high-grade and superior-grade spiritual ghosts, this training cycle rectified past deficiencies. In the beginning, every spiritual ghost used was, without exception, of the low-grade variety. Only those who proved obedient, performed excellently during training, and displayed loyalty to Leidong were rewarded with Soul Pills to enhance their innate aptitude and strength. Those who remained wild, difficult to tame, or possessed various defects, became rations for their comrades.

In total, Leidong expended one hundred thousand low-grade spiritual ghosts, which were whittled down through constant elimination until only ten thousand remained today. But these ten thousand Fierce Ghost Soldiers were the absolute elite of the elite, each having earned their current power through personal effort and meritorious service rewarded step-by-step. Under the baptism of temporal law, even the weakest among them possessed the strength of a standard Ghost General at the initial stage.