The venue was absolute chaos, as if tens of thousands of rats had been dumped into a pool of lukewarm porridge—that level of pandemonium. Hundreds of thousands of Affik citizens scrambled, clutching their heads; the shrieks and gasps rose like a tsunami, making the very ground tremble faintly. The ten thousand soldiers pre-positioned by Prince Daogen within the hall were utterly dumbfounded. They stood frozen, weapons in hand, jostled helplessly by the surging crowd, their minds blank, completely unsure how to react.

Gu Xiechen flicked his wrist, hurling several high-explosive grenades dangling from his belt. Amidst the thunderous blasts, the foreign ministers—their faces pale, green, blue, or red; their builds varying from short and stout to tall and thin, handsome or foolish—were launched skyward again, accompanied by deafening noise. Hundreds were blown to pieces, scattering a rain of variously colored blood—red, white, blue, and black—downward.

“Bite, spit, spit, spit-ta,” Gu Xiechen pulled the trigger with a serene smile. Bullet after bullet hissed forth, striking the foreheads of minister after minister, sending them tumbling down.

A slaughter, a bloody butchery. Yet, Gu Xiechen’s spirit felt as if it were floating high above, observing without a shred of emotion as his physical body relentlessly struck down these screaming ministers. No matter where they fled, whether they activated their personal shields, or whether their bodyguards rushed to shield them, every shot fired was guaranteed to pierce the center of a minister’s brow.

“Goo, gugugu, spit-chew-gnaw.” It seemed only Gu Xiechen’s assault rifle was firing in the entire hall. The sharp, searing cracks of gunfire made the eardrums of the hundreds of thousands present ache. As each bullet left the muzzle, a wisp of Taiyin Profound Flame adhered to it, and a thread of Gu Xiechen’s mental power imprinted itself upon the projectile. Be it energy armor, liquid metal battlesuits, or even a dozen guards intercepting in front of a minister, these bullets simply carved precisely through every obstruction in their path, lodging accurately into the minister’s forehead.

One by one, the ministers who had once stood so high were silently collapsing, their past glories and wealth now revealed as dust.

Gu Xiechen smiled, a smile as quiet and delicate as an orchid blooming secretly in the mountains. With every bullet expelled, it felt as though a thread of killing intent was drawn from his heart. Gradually, he felt his spiritual realm become freer than ever before; the long-accumulated murderous aura was entirely released with the firing of each round.

The field of white tulips quietly faded, and the silhouette of the girl in white dissolved into the thick darkness.

The demon-god-like figure of Gu Yitong, just as he appeared, was instantly pulverized by a streak of spiritual light. Amidst the boundless violet mist, only a solitary, towering azure pagoda remained.

The faces of Gu Juechen, Gu Yuru, and countless elders and disciples of the Three Witch Sect shattered before his eyes. Their forms twisted, turning into streams of black mist that adhered to the bullets and were shot out.

On Paradise Star, countless severed limbs, endless corpses, and vast pools of blood simultaneously disintegrated, the surging black mist condensing into drops of black venom that affixed themselves to the bullets and were fired away.

Since Gu Xiechen could remember, every inner demon, every obstacle, was discharged with the bullets leaving the barrel. With every execution of a once-lofty minister, Gu Xiechen’s state of mind became clearer and more lucid. Clip after clip was replaced; Gu Xiechen continuously pulled the trigger, taking countless lives with his fingertips, and his inner demons dissolved into nothingness alongside them.

The first volume of the Taiyin True Scripture slowly flowed through his core. The ashen-white Taiyin Qi within his body circulated rapidly, gradually filling him. A portion of the vast innate spiritual energy hidden deep within his cells slowly released, integrating without any waste into Gu Xiechen’s Taiyin Qi.

As the slaughter continued, the Taiyin Qi within him grew ever stronger; Gu Xiechen’s mind became increasingly pure and calm, like a heart sculpted from Primordial Profound Ice—devoid of any impurity, unburdened by any attachment.

The foundational technique of entering the Taiyin True Scripture was mastered at this critical juncture: a heart as calm and transparent as (Xuan Bing/Profound Ice), which was the bedrock for cultivating the scripture.

Having purged all inner demons, Gu Xiechen felt weightless, as if a gentle breeze could carry him away. His physical body had achieved the Innate Form, and today, his spirit finally reached a state commensurate with that physical form. Acting purely from his inherent nature, free from any sorrow, joy, desire, or terror—this was the true Taoist heart.

The gunfire roared on until he had expended all ten magazines—five hundred bullets—that he carried. Only then did Gu Xiechen toss aside the assault rifle and melt into the surrounding crowd. His combat suit gradually twisted and transformed; without anyone noticing, his clothes became the pure white robes unique to the Affik people. With a faint smile, he strode swiftly to Fuya Ming’s side, casually placing an ancient, bronze sword into her hand, and lightly pressed a palm against the center of her back.

The gentle palm strike carried tremendous force. Fuya Ming, caught completely off guard, was sent soaring into the air. Flailing wildly, the sword in her hand sliced through Xin Jia and Xin Yi, causing jets of blood to erupt more than ten zhang away.

“What an incredibly powerful woman!” shouted Xin Jia and Xin Yi. Fuya Ming’s hands moved randomly; the bronze sword obtained from Paradise Star was incomparably sharp. With every swing, streaks of sword light, about a foot long, flickered uncertainly like striking vipers, threatening to pounce. The two brothers, covered in blood, rapidly retreated, backing straight into the group of stunned Affik soldiers standing motionless near the edge of the hall like stunned geese. Near this spot, there was a broadcast device providing a live feed to all Star Alliance news channels.

“Long live the great Dokko Federation! Long live! Long live!”

Xin Jia and Xin Yi slammed into the mass of Affik soldiers, instantly pulling the safety pins on the explosive packs strapped to their backs. BOOM! A small mushroom cloud billowed into the sky, and the ground of the venue shuddered slightly. Nearly a thousand Affik soldiers, along with the Xin brothers, were blasted skyward, their bodies shattering.

The soldiers capable of maintaining order inside the hall were all ironclad confidantes of Prince Daogen, especially these officers managing the inner sectors, who were the fiercely loyal troops he had painstakingly cultivated over the years since becoming Minister of Military Affairs. From any perspective, Fuya Ming had no reason to leave these men behind to cause trouble for her.

Gu Xiechen’s fingers twitched lightly, sending out streaks of gentle true essence. Fuya Ming’s body began to tremble violently, like a marionette on strings, soaring upward as if riding the clouds. The bronze sword in her hand emitted sizzling, crisp sounds, sending waves of sword aura scattering in all directions. Nearby “Dokko Federation soldiers” began spitting blood and rapidly retreating.

“My Princess, you need to set an example!” Gu Xiechen transmitted to Fuya Ming with a smile.