A bloody ray descended from the sky, slanting into the midst of the roaring, charging legion of corpse-beasts. At the absolute center of this throng was a wolf-like corpse-beast, magnificent in stature, its pure white, silvery fur fluttering lightly as it ran, much like seaweed in water, gently waving in a loose, orderly fashion.

This silver-white corpse-beast carried an aura of icy, deathly grayness all over its body. The tips of its four claws were sharp and keen, and a single, slender, obsidian horn projected from its forehead, piercing defiantly toward the heavens. A faint saliva, like thin dew, dripped from its jaws, tracing down its two prominent, chillingly white fangs, saturated with a foul, pungent stench.

What was truly staggering, however, was the figure riding upon the back of such a ferocious monster: a small child, perhaps five or six years old, short in stature, with arms as delicate and tender as peeled lotus roots. A small red pouch was tied around its belly, embroidered in the center with the character “” (Corpse)—a pattern recognized by the Yellow Emperor as an ancient, totemic symbol.

This red-pouch child held a dark, ebony flute between its small, pale hands, blowing lightly across the mouthpiece. Wisps of profound flute music drifted out, coiling around the army of corpse-beasts like invisible, ethereal smoke.

A person? The Yellow Emperor’s mind felt momentarily sluggish. He could not believe that among these vicious, ravenous beasts, capable of destroying every living thing they saw, there was actually a human!

The child in the red pouch seemed to sense something. It gently lifted its head, its clear, wide eyes shimmering with starlight, like pure black jewels, and gazed toward the distant Yellow Emperor. Then, a smile blossomed—innocent and playful, yet carrying a hint of charm and liveliness.

This smile hinted at something bizarre.

The sight made the Yellow Emperor’s scalp tingle; every hair on his body stood on end, and his frame trembled slightly. Only the hand gripping his sword remained steady. As a swordsman, his hands would never shake, no matter the circumstance. Thus, even while his spirit reeled in shock, his hand reacted instinctively, slashing at a beast speeding past him, cleaving the undead creature in two. Blood and internal organs burst forth, spraying toward the Yellow Emperor, only to be repelled by an invisible barrier.

Holding the Xuanyuan Divine Sword—which remained unstained by gore—the Yellow Emperor gracefully retreated several feet, elegantly avoiding the defiled viscera and blood.

As the bloody light pierced downward, amidst the crimson haze, the corpse-beast's body plummeted below. Behind it, more beasts roared and charged.

The Yellow Emperor’s fingers tightened slightly around his long sword. His eyes slowly narrowed, flashing with a keen, icy glint. His robes and hair whipped backward without any wind. With his blood-stained battle boots, he strode forward, moving against the tide of charging beasts, as if strolling through the flowing river of time.

The figures of the beasts seemed elongated by the distortion of space and time as their claws reached for his forehead. Then, splashes of crimson bloomed—eerie and beautiful, like ice lotuses on a snowy mountain—as blood and fluid erupted from their severed limbs.

The Yellow Emperor walked as if through a world submerged in darkness, shrouded entirely in shadow, save for his own faint radiance. Before him, ferocious beasts lunged in attack.

His face remained expressionless, his features, sculpted sharply like frost and snow, betraying no emotion.

As these savage beasts reached him, before their claws could make contact, they were sliced apart by an invisible blade. A flash of light appeared beneath their throats, and their entire heads were flung upward by an invisible force, tossed backward along with their bodies by an unseen hand, crashing onto the ground below.

It seemed the Yellow Emperor hadn't even drawn his sword, nor had anyone seen him move. Yet, the beasts lunging at him died one after another, as if the space around him had become a forbidden Asura hell, where no living thing could cross the threshold!

Behind him, numerous powerful clan members surged forward from the city walls. They saw only the Yellow Emperor, wielding the Xuanyuan Divine Sword, its golden surface blazing with the fierce light of the midday sun. He walked amidst the countless charging corpse-beasts, seemingly taking a leisurely stroll. As he passed, the undead creatures offered no resistance to his advance; no one even saw him strike, yet gashes appeared on the corpses as if cut by invisible, transparent knives. Blood spattered, limbs were detached, and bodies were flung backward.

Such formidable strength made the blood of countless watchers behind him boil. Their eyes shone like stars in the night, bright and resolute, and their morale soared to its peak. Immediately, they roared and charged forward, raising their melee weapons and throwing themselves at the black corpse-beasts.

On the ramparts above, marksmen were crouched at various firing points, gripping their powerful Photosynthesis Sniper Rifles. They moved like grim reapers hovering at the edge of the darkness, and with every pull of the trigger, they claimed the life of an already desiccated soul.

Kill! Kill! Kill!

The entire battlefield erupted. Countless shouts pierced the sky, interspersed with the firing of multicolored energy beams. Swarms of black shadows rushed out like locusts, plunging into the legion of corpse-beasts.

This black torrent splashed masses of gore and flesh against the iron wall formed by the assembled powerhouses, successfully halting its momentum. The figures of the Yellow Emperor and Fuxi flashed like the wind, plunging into the throng of corpse-beasts, brutally slaughtering the undead hordes. Where they passed, only fragmented remains and scattered blood flowers remained.

A clear, piercing roar cut through the clouds, and a black shadow bore down upon the Yellow Emperor. He looked up, his heart giving a sudden jolt. He saw a lion with eight wings pouncing ferociously. Behind this beast, six more roared and charged, their blood-red eyes radiating an enthralling brutality.

The Yellow Emperor gritted his teeth slightly. His greatsword seemed to sense its master’s mood, shining with an unprecedented golden light. A mysterious seal slowly materialized between the Yellow Emperor’s eyebrows, symbolizing his rage. His long black hair stood straight up against the wind, like that of an unparalleled god of slaughter, as he slammed toward the oncoming beasts.

In the sky above, Fuxi held the Eight Trigrams Mirror aloft, engaging a cluster of four or five formidable corpse-beasts. The mirror flashed repeatedly, sending streaks of light shimmering out that burst across the dark sky like pure white auroras. Even as he fought, thoughts churned in his mind as he stared at the red-pouch child amidst the corpse army.

He had been observing this eerie child for some time.

Now, perhaps due to the intensity of the battle, perhaps due to some other shift, his mind suddenly moved. He realized that no matter how fierce the fighting became, the black, ironwood-like flute never left the child's lips. His sharp intellect grasped the implication immediately. His face changed swiftly, and he roared out: "Emperor Yao! Emperor Shun!"

The Emperors Yao and Shun, not far from him, paused briefly at Fuxi’s sudden address, but their hands remained steady. They calmly repelled the two beasts they were engaged with and moved closer to Fuxi.

Fuxi, while battling fiercely with the Eight Trigrams Mirror, shouted, “I will hold these beasts back! You two charge in and kill that red-pouch child!”

Emperors Yao and Shun had no time to deliberate. They watched as Fuxi surged forward, breaking free from the encirclement of the ferocious beasts. The Eight Trigrams Mirror spun in his hand, enlarging until it shielded his head, pushing into the corpse legion like a bulldozer. All ordinary corpse-beasts of the Divine and Lesser Divine Emperor ranks they encountered were pulverized into meat paste by the dazzling, pure white light emanating from the mirror.

Emperors Yao and Shun seized the opportunity, following swiftly in Fuxi’s wake, letting him carve a path toward the red-pouch child in the center of the corpses.

The red-pouch child seemed to sense their approach, looking up. Its pure black, jewel-like eyes, framed by an innocent smile, blinked with curiosity. Then, it softly blew a note on the flute. The blade-headed corpse-beasts guarding it roared and charged toward the three of them.

Fuxi’s expression flickered slightly. Though his heart sank a little, this action confirmed his suspicion: this red-pouch child was indeed the controller of this entire corpse army!

His deep eyes, seemingly carved from ice and snow, glinted coldly. He suddenly pushed out his hands, shoving aside the more than thirty corpse-beasts charging him, and roared, "You two go! I will hold them off!!"

Emperors Yao and Shun seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. They immediately activated their racial talents, increasing their combat power tenfold in their fury, pushing every secret technique to its absolute peak, and roared as they lunged toward the red-pouch child.

Fuxi used all his might, his face flushed with exertion, to block the majority of the monsters ahead. The other two encountered little resistance on their path, swiftly reaching the red-pouch child. They roared and savagely swung their weapons down at the innocent-looking child.

The child in the red pouch looked at their fierce expressions without a trace of panic. The silver-furred wolf beneath him flickered, retreating swiftly ten yards backward, dodging the sharp attack.

"Two big brothers, are you trying to hit me?" the red-pouch child asked curiously toward Emperors Yao and Shun, his voice full of the same simple interest one might have when asking about dinner.

Emperor Yao knew Fuxi was expending tremendous power, even using a self-detonation technique, to buy them time—a technique with severe after-effects. Therefore, he ignored the child, gritted his teeth, accelerated his pursuit, and brought his saber down in a sweeping strike.

This single blow concentrated all his strength. When it descended, it cleaved the very air in two, tearing open a patch of black, illusory space with a loud hiss.

In that instant, the turbulent winds and clouds in the sky seemed to freeze, and time and space halted, only to be stretched into long shadows by the cut.

The red-pouch child looked up. His pure black, lustrous eyes remained clear and untainted by the slightest dust, and a sweet smile graced his small face as he watched the fierce blade descend.

Time, at that moment, seemed to stop.

The sharp battle-saber halted a single finger's breadth above the child's head, unable to move further. Emperor Yao’s body in the air was also frozen stiff, as if acupoints had been struck.