The hulking man stared at the white-robed girl stepping out, his gaze locking onto the silver-white sword in her hand, causing his crimson eyes to narrow sharply.

The very air around them seemed to grow so still it became impossible to breathe.

The hulking man spoke, his tone cold and arrogant, “From the aura of light energy surrounding you, if I am not mistaken, you must be a Messenger of Light? I never expected to find the Goddess of Light’s sword here…” He extended a hand, as if issuing a command, “Give it to me, and I will spare your life!”

Ye Zhu’s icy eyes fixed on him silently, then she swept her gaze over the others, frowning slightly. “It seems the Goddess’s corpse is hidden here by you lot. Though I don’t know what transpired, for the Ice and Snow Goddess to entrust the deity’s remains to scum like you—truly blind!”

“I will say it one more time,” the hulking man’s eyes turned frigid. “Hand over the sword!”

Ye Zhu drew her gaze back to him. A flicker of mockery suddenly danced within her clear eyes. “You want it? I’ll give it to you!” She raised her palm and waved. A pure white light, like an enraged shark, shot out from the Sword of Light, slicing straight across the icy crystal floor.

The dazzling radiance bleached the soft glow emanating from the crystal walls. Facing the surging white light, the hulking man raised his hand and clenched it, causing the space before him to suddenly intensify countless times, transforming into a transparent shield that blocked the sharp light-slash. After momentarily neutralizing each other, the energies dissipated.

“As expected of the Sword of Light,” the hulking man lowered his hand. A tiny trace of blood now marked his thumb, seeping from within. He brought his hand to his mouth and gently sucked, his crimson tongue looking utterly savage. “Even wielded by someone of your level, it releases such immense power. If it were mine to use, shattering the Light Barrier would be effortless!”

He let out a sinister, undisguised grin of greed and lunged at Ye Zhu, shooting forward like an arrow loosed from a bowstring. His thick hand swept down from above, seemingly intent on crushing Zhu’s skull.

Ye Zhu knitted her brows, swiftly retreating. With a few quick evasions, she fell back toward the deepest edge of the dark recess. Her snow-white robes seemed like a sheath of light, allowing her to radiate a powerful, intense white glow even while standing in the darkness. This light was contained, not illuminating the surroundings like a lamp, but entirely internalized, making her resemble a fairy sculpted from condensed radiance.

Wielding the sword, a light as clear as ice and snow gradually flowed from the engraved patterns on its sheath. Her face was frigid as she stared at the hulking man charging toward her. Suddenly, she gripped the hilt tightly and drew the blade in a reverse motion. From the junction of the scabbard and the hilt, needle-like rays of dazzling white light erupted, illuminating the entire dark corridor like a revolving halo of light, emitting an aura of terrifying, boundless power.

The hulking man’s charge abruptly stalled. His expression stiffened, watching the sword in Ye Zhu’s hand with stunned disbelief. A sudden, heart-stopping feeling washed over him, as if a primeval beast had awoken from its slumber and was slowly opening its sharp eyes to glare at him.

The blinding white light, so fierce one could hardly look at it, washed over the faces of the eight emissaries standing before the recess. Each felt as if they had been grazed by a sharp blade—an ineffable pain and chill that pierced even to their core. They had noted that this Sword of Light had never once left its scabbard; now, they could only dread the horror of its unleashed might.

The old man in the blue robe, standing at the very back, subtly altered his expression. He clenched his palm, realizing cold sweat had beaded there. He stared fixedly at the hulking man’s back, silently roaring a ferocious curse in his heart: “Kill her! You must kill her!”

At this point, he could no longer hope for a mutual destruction scenario.

At that moment, the Goddess of Light’s sword finally began to be drawn from its sheath, inch by painstaking inch. With every inch drawn, the white light intensified, seemingly threatening to pierce through the corridor walls. A howling gale whipped up around them, and energy from all directions violently surged inward, billowing Ye Zhu’s robes. Small whirlwinds churned the ground, and the roaring energy, like enraged dragons, made the very earth beneath their feet tremble.

When Ye Zhu had fully drawn the sword, everyone felt a sense of suffocation. The translucent longsword was entirely engulfed in burning white flames. These flames gradually shrunk, retracting into the Divine Sword of Light, revealing a blade as sharp and cold as polished steel. Its mirror-smooth surface reflected the silhouettes of everyone outside the corridor. At first glance, the sword seemed unremarkable, yet the piercing, frigid light emanating from it gave the impression that one’s very gaze was being shattered.

Holding the Divine Sword of Light, Ye Zhu gently set the scabbard down, planting it upright into the hard ground. She then gripped the divine blade with both hands and charged toward the hulking man, rushing into the light like a silhouette moving against the dawn.

Swish!

The hulking man’s throat convulsed; he tried to open his mouth, but suddenly felt a numbness around his neck, like a mosquito bite. He blinked in terror, preparing to look behind him, only to feel the world before him instantly invert—heaven and earth exchanged places. He caught a glimpse of the white figure standing before the eight emissaries outside the dark recess, and then, the world abruptly dissolved into absolute darkness.

Silence. Utter stillness.

The eight emissaries watched Ye Zhu, breathless. Especially when they saw the hulking man standing behind her, his body still upright, yet his head had slid clean off his neck. Their hearts hammered against their ribs, threatening to burst.

Ye Zhu raised her icy gaze, sweeping across the face of every person before her, her fingers slowly tightening around the Divine Sword of Light.

At the summit of the Divine Mountain.

After Sifiglan finished her finger movements, a swirling, multicolored light flashed around her body, then violently tugged her sideways by three zhang, pulling her clear of the bizarre force field. Before she could exhale in relief, she flickered away rapidly toward another spot.

A gigantic hand, vast enough to blot out the sky, pressed down from above, pursuing her like a demonic shadow. Bronze Supreme watched calmly, his lips moving slightly. From the ground beneath Sifiglan’s feet, several sharp earth spikes suddenly erupted, instantly piercing through her body.

Ling stared, his eyes fixed and rigid, his scalp threatening to explode. His eyes turned blood-red. He struggled madly, yet his body remained firmly restrained.

Sifiglan’s body flashed with multicolored light, and a profound, mysterious rune manifested on her forehead, rapidly spreading across her form and connecting to the surrounding space. Then, with a flash of white light, the earth spikes protruding from the ground rapidly retracted. Sifiglan, whose body had been impaled, emerged from a mass of white light, perfectly whole, rapidly exposing herself ahead.

Bronze Supreme smiled, sweeping his hand. On the ground and in the space ahead of Sifiglan, numerous conical earth spikes and transparent spatial thorns materialized, tearing her body apart until it was shredded and bloody. Then, under the reversal of the multicolored light, she swiftly regenerated, only to flee forward again.

Bronze Supreme’s fingers twitched slightly. Various forms of damage materialized along Sifiglan’s escape path, tearing her body apart with overwhelming force. Not long after she regenerated, she was killed again.

Constant rebirth, constant death.

Bronze Supreme wore a cruel, cat-toying-with-a-mouse smirk, showing no hurry, playing with Sifiglan in the palm of his hand. He completely failed to notice the restrained Ling beside him; seeing Sifiglan killed again and again, Ling’s eyes had turned completely blood-red. His black pupils and white eyeballs were entirely overlaid with crimson light, webbed with scarlet veins—utterly grotesque and terrifying to behold.

Just then, a dormant aura, carrying dense, boundless energy, suddenly surged up from the ground beneath them. Sifiglan’s expression changed abruptly, and a weight settled in her heart. Gritting her teeth, she tried to warp space and teleport, but the surrounding spacetime was too chaotic, making entry into any other temporal segment impossible.

Bronze Supreme’s eyes narrowed slightly. The gentle, indifferent smile on his face had vanished, replaced by an expression of ruthless domination. From that dense aura, he sensed a powerful wave of light energy. His heart sank slightly, and his gaze fixed on Sifiglan, filled with killing intent. He clenched his hand, and the entire panorama of wind and cloud seemed to be drawn in, compressed into his palm, contracting inward like a whale playing in water.

“Return to Dust, Chaos!”

Bronze Supreme viciously snatched toward Sifiglan. A sharp, ash-white ball of light shot from his palm, hurtling toward her. It tore through vast swathes of land and over a dozen shattered, multicolored energy spaces, maintaining its speed undiminished, never dipping into any other spatial plane, and slammed violently into Sifiglan’s back.

Drip. All time in the world seemed to fall silent for an instant.

Sifiglan staggered forward. The ash-white orb, resembling fine beads of water emitting faint electrical sparks, permeated her back inch by inch. Everything unfolded as if in slow motion.

Sifiglan’s delicate, beautiful face was etched with astonishment and disbelief. She looked down at her chest, seeing her body suddenly displaying countless fine, ash-white fissures spreading from the inside out, like a cracked porcelain vase covered in a spiderwebbing pattern that crawled across her entire form.

Then, with a boom, she exploded, scattering like fine dust.

A gentle breeze blew, and Sifiglan’s body dissolved into countless motes of ash that drifted over the ruined ground.

Heaven and earth fell silent.

Just as Bronze Supreme was satisfyingly withdrawing his hand, his expression abruptly changed. Then he heard a long, piercing howl, brimming with infinite grief and fury, soar toward the heavens, a hysterical, mournful shriek: “Ahhhh…!”