The clamor of the battlefield was immense; gale-force winds tore the looming storm clouds overhead into shredded wisps, and countless roars, like the beat of colossal war drums, vibrated the loose stones on the peaks until they threatened to leap into the air.

A torrent of battle cries, savage howls, weeping, and frenzied shrieks erupted across the desolate frontier battlefield. Flashes of sword and blade swept past; broken shards of swords and fractured weapons flew asunder. Deep scars were etched onto armor, built to be immortal, scars that time and weather would eventually bury.

All of it seemed ephemeral, a fleeting glimpse, only to quietly dissolve in the brief moment of absolute stillness that descended as the turbulent heavens settled.

Beside him, who was crying out in that wild lament?

That thick, viscous blood splashed onto his cheek—was it warm or ice-cold?

In a tiny, unnoticed corner of the sprawling battlefield, a breathtaking figure lay fallen, arms thrown wide to the raging wind. The gossamer softness of her skirt billowed up, and a dense, pure white light, like crystalline snow, shone forth from her immaculate, smooth forehead. It then pierced the very firmament, as if connecting heaven and earth!

The ever-shifting battlefield seemed, in an instant, to fall silent.

Every single person turned their heads; even the frenzied, rampaging corpses and monstrous beasts sensed something, turning with restless unease.

Blinding, pure white radiance surged from Ye Zhu’s diminutive body, escaping the pores of her snow-white skin in slender wisps, enveloping her entirely. Held aloft by a profound, vast energy, her body slowly ascended toward the heavens, as if an invisible tether around her waist were hauling her upward.

Her hair, smooth and black as jade, streamed back in the biting gale, and her silken skirt tumbled and rolled, occasionally revealing skin as pure and delicate as fine porcelain. Under the gaze of countless undead horrors and the dense masses of figures scattered across the land, she became the sole beacon of light between heaven and earth.

Once aloft, her posture slowly shifted from horizontal to upright, as if unseen hands were pressing against her back, compelling her to stand. The pure white light surrounding her gradually coalesced, forming an ethereal, indistinct suit of silvery-white armor. If Ye Chen were present now, he would be astonished to see that Ye Zhu’s silvery-white armor bore a striking resemblance in design to his own Light Set, though the etched markings upon it were finer and more intricate, possessing an innate aesthetic beauty at the pauldrons and the hem of the skirt.

On Ye Zhu’s forehead rested a revolving white sigil, exquisitely complex in structure, resembling a pristine white lotus, emanating an aura capable of purifying all things.

In the suddenly hushed expanse of the battlefield, under the scrutiny of countless eyes, Ye Zhu’s eyelids slowly drew open. A soft white luminescence flickered from within her eyes, like the very first light of creation, possessing eyes that were clear and limpid, like black pearls deep within the sea—beautiful and pure, untouched by any speck of dust, evoking not a hint of irreverence, but rather magnifying every minute flaw of the observers to a degree that induced profound shame.

Ye Zhu stood suspended in the gale. The vague white armor accentuated her graceful, perfect figure. Over her shoulders, a sacred, pure white cloak billowed and rolled in the sharp wind. She gazed down upon the entire world, her clear eyes holding only a faint sorrow, a melancholy for everything in existence—including joy, delight, death, and birth.

“Cease now…” Her lips moved slightly. Her sacred voice, imbued with majesty, seemed to descend from a distant heaven above, echoing across the entire battlefield, murmuring in every ear. Even the rising spray of blood and the stench of gore seemed to be momentarily subdued beneath its influence.

The blood-red pupils of all the corpse-beasts, moments before filled with murderous intent, became momentarily unfocused. The red glow flickered and swirled, occasionally revealing a glimpse of a clear, black pupil within.

On the various mountain peaks, numerous high-ranking deacons and elders of the Temple of Light, members of the Council of Honorary Elders, watched this sudden spectacle with looks of profound shock, utterly unable to comprehend how such marvelous power could exist in this world—the power of one person’s aura to subdue an endless horde of monstrous corpses.

On the highest peak stood an elder cloaked in silver-white robes. His tall figure remained rigidly erect against the wind, his robes billowing wildly, yet his body was as unmoving as if nailed to the ground. His narrow, sharp eyes were fixed intently upon Ye Zhu’s figure in the sky. The hands within his silver-white sleeves trembled slightly, perhaps from excitement or fervor, and even the flesh of his cheeks flushed with the rush of hot blood. “It is true, it must be true! This… this is the aura of the Goddess of Light! It is her aura!”

His voice was broken by the wind, his agitation so intense that it felt as if the blood in his veins might explode. He suddenly snapped back to reality and roared backward, “Quickly mobilize the guards! Follow me to protect the reincarnation of the Goddess of Light!”

The many white-robed elders behind him, all high-ranking figures within the Temple of Light, were startled by the silver-robed elder’s command. Seeing the flushed, blood-filled look on his face, they stared back in utter bewilderment.

“The… the reincarnation of the Goddess of Light?!” Every mind instantly turned to thick, churning sludge, momentarily bewildered and stunned.

“Hurry!” the silver-robed elder bellowed.

The others, forcing bitter smiles, had no time for questions and immediately turned to mobilize all members at or above the level of Divine Emperor for assembly.

Amidst the colossal army of corpse-beasts, there was one monster of truly gargantuan size. Its body, shaped like a dragon, stretched for a thousand kilometers. Beneath its belly were twelve hooves as thick as those of a lion, and on its back sprouted eight tattered, fleshy wings. These were not truly wings, but rather a series of stark white bone frames supporting a thin, greyish-white membrane of flesh, possessing a nauseatingly soft texture, partially connected to the skeletal structure.

This corpse-monster possessed eight blood-red eyes, like amber, burning like embers, and a sharp, pointed horn jutted arrogantly from its forehead toward the heavens.

Yet, what truly drew the eye was the creature lazily seated upon the monster’s back: a lion with snow-white fur, ten men tall, covered in soft, snowy fluff. A single black, sharp horn crowned its head, and its eyes were gentle and soft, holding an innocent, playful curiosity as it looked about, seemingly interested in everything.

Seated upon this white lion’s back were two figures resembling human children, a boy and a girl. Both wore small red satchels around their chests, inscribed with an ancient character: (Corpse).

Both children appeared to be about six or seven years old, standing about one meter tall. Their skin was as milky-white and soft as fresh cheese, with silken, smooth black hair draped over their shoulders. The little boy’s cheeks held a maturity inconsistent with his appearance. He watched the girl beside him with a gentle smile, his fair, small hand stroking her hair as he spoke softly, “The one in the sky seems to be a messenger from the lineage of the Goddess of Light. The markings on her forehead are quite complex; she must be a relatively high-ranking emissary.”

“Mmm-hmm.” The little girl possessed a delicate, cute face. Her bright, dark eyes darted about as she giggled, “But she doesn't seem fully awakened yet. Right now, she can probably only exert a tenth of her true power. If we could kill her, her flesh and blood might significantly boost the power of the ‘Corpse Talisman’ within us.”

“Indeed.” The little boy smiled at her. “Do you like it? I’ll go get it for you.”

“Really?” The little girl looked at him with delight. “You can get it for me? Even though she isn't fully awake, she is still a messenger of Light, and likely not easy to deal with.”

“Wait here a moment.” The little boy looked at her with indulgent fondness and a smile before his body slowly floated upward, shooting toward Ye Zhu in the sky. He instantly appeared before her. Gazing at the sacred and pure girl, the tenderness and smile vanished from his eyes; his entire face darkened. His narrow eyes fixed sharply on Ye Zhu as he said coldly, “You truly shouldn't have awakened at this time. Not only are you obstructing my great plan, but you are also wasting my time.”

Ye Zhu lowered her head, calmly meeting his gaze. Her voice resonated as if from a distant heaven. “You must be the 【Corpse Herder】. Send your master over; I do not wish to waste any more effort.”

“Heh.” The little boy sneered, leaning back. Soft mist automatically condensed to form a chair beneath him. He hooked his feet up and squinted at Ye Zhu. “With this meager strength, you aren't qualified to meet my master. You had better brace yourself; I am not just any ordinary 【Corpse Herder】.”

“Is that so?” Ye Zhu’s expression remained placid as she slowly raised a finger resembling white jade. “Killing you will tell us.” A thread of sacred, distant white light condensed at her fingertip, tearing the air until it warped into ripples of water…

Golden Mountain Empire, Dragon Bone Forest.

Above the vast, sprawling forest, the endless blue sky was bisected by more than a dozen pitch-black starships howling past. The white, searing light spewing from their thrusters scorched the air, leaving trails of transparent distortion. Two ships led the formation abreast: the Bagua and the Heavenly Dao Divine Ark.

Ye Chen, utilizing the energy conversion system within the ship, linked directly to the Bagua and transmitted his physical essence into it. He sat quietly in the main hall with Bai Yijun, awaiting developments. Pangu was asleep in the rest cabin and would only be summoned in case of a major incident.

“Beyond the Golden Mountain Empire lies the Light Empire. It’s only a gap of one empire. At our current speed, we should arrive in about three more days,” Shao Hao said cheerfully, tossing Ye Chen a bottle of Dragon Blood Wine. “If that person can secure the White Spirit Mountain, the development of our clan will accelerate like a rocket. With the cultivation resources available there, I refuse to believe we won't be able to produce dozens of Divine Emperor powerhouses.”

Ye Chen’s mouth twitched slightly, managing a weak smile. He glanced back. Bai Yijun was seated beside him on the soft sofa, and although a smile played on her lips, a shadow of worry lingered between her brows.

Ye Chen gently clasped her small hand without speaking. Just then, the fleet’s forward satellite system suddenly blared an alarm. Everyone aboard the ships jolted awake; even Pangu in his rest cabin opened his eyes. Before anyone could react, a dark figure materialized outside the main control room viewport of the Bagua, its body seeping through the hull like water, appearing directly in the hall.

(Wrote this chapter when I had some free time today. It’s inconvenient to write at my old home these past few days, so updates have been sparse. I ask for your patience—To be continued—)