Tens of millions of angels, save for the mindless combat puppets of the Seraphim Legions, shrieked in terror, their entire forms trembling uncontrollably.

The Ten Absolute Formations roared into life. Golden rays, bloody light, crimson sands, and black gales, along with all manner of vicious projectiles, streaked across the heavens, killing on contact and wounding with a mere brush. Anyone below the Golden Immortal realm possessed absolutely no power to resist within the Formation; they were nothing more than tumbling orbs instantly dissolving into pus and blood, flying ash, black smoke, or dust. Vast swathes of angels simply wailed a few times before vanishing utterly within the Ten Absolute Formations.

The high-ranking Twelve-Winged Angels under the Wisdom Angel Dura and the Thrones Angel Hamlhein—a dozen or so immensely powerful beings whose cultivation hovered between the second and first grades of Heavenly Immortals—were cunning, oily, and worldly individuals. Seeing the dim, murderous aura surging from the surrounding Ten Absolute Formations, they dared not flee in those directions. They bellowed orders, directing their subordinate angel legions to attack the Formations, while they themselves transformed into streams of holy light, shooting skyward, attempting to escape through the seemingly innocuous net of clouds covering the Sky-Reaching Net Formation.

Xin Jia and the others roared with laughter. Seeing these Archangels rush willingly toward the great formation, the four brothers of Mo Liqing, who managed the formations, hurriedly opened the gates, allowing the fifteen Twelve-Winged Angels to charge in. Innumerable limitless chains descended upon the angels like maelstroms in a tsunami, instantly binding them tightly. The angels struggled foolishly, but then torrents of heavenly lightning slammed down, blasting them until they were charred black, their wings on their backs trembling, resembling chicken wings scorched beyond recognition.

Having dealt with these dozen Archangels whom Gu Xiechen had specifically commanded be captured alive, the Ten Heavenly Sovereigns became even more ruthless and unrestrained. The power of the Ten Absolute Formations was unleashed fully; the various golden lights, evil winds, red sands, and black waters surged forth like towering tidal waves against the angelic army. Ten first-rate Innate Supreme Treasures floated and bobbed upon the great formation, emitting limitless immortal radiance that enveloped the entire angelic legion.

Some clever angels charged furiously toward the command centers of the warships they rode, hoping to capture a few Earth Federation soldiers piloting the vessels as hostages. Little did they know that the soldiers controlling the ships smiled broadly upon seeing the angels, nodded at them, then contorted their bodies, transforming into either hairy, shambling zombies, or muscular, enlightened Arhats, or even demure, gentle young monks. They then charged toward the angels in a desperate frenzy.

These zombies, Arhats, and young monks possessed low cultivation, generally equivalent to the Golden Core or Nascent Soul stages, matching the power of those angels. However, they were relentless, caring nothing for the damage they sustained as long as they could kill the enemy. Except for the Seraphim Legions, which could barely fight them to a standstill, the other angels were utterly routed, suffering immense distress.

The zombies were naturally the creation of Peng Hua. With his current cultivation, refining hundreds of thousands of Golden Core and Nascent Soul stage zombies was an easy task. The Arhats and young monks originated from Ban Ruo and Mo He. Ban Ruo conjured delicate-looking young monks who employed Buddhist demonic suppression techniques, while Mo He summoned fierce-looking, battle-hardened monastic Arhats, every movement a killing blow. These energy-composed realm puppets knew no fear, no terror, no pain, and possessed no consciousness—their sole awareness was to kill the enemy. How could the angelic legions compete against them?

Wang Fa was better than Bei...

Gradually, the angels could no longer hold their ground within the warships and were forced to retreat into the vacuum of space.

This retreat plunged them directly into even more terrifying assaults. All the White Wing class warships fired relentlessly. Although they only employed standard main cannon fire, the power was still lethally threatening to the minor angels whose strength only equaled that of Golden Core or Nascent Soul cultivators. As for the Death Star Cruisers, which also engaged their full arsenal, their conventional firepower directly threatened beings below the Ten-Winged Angel rank. Countless black beams crisscrossed the void, slaughtering indiscriminately. Innumerable angels perished in the black light; piles of white feathers flew everywhere, resembling a chicken coop blasted apart by heavy artillery shells.

The Monkey, who had been enthusiastically beating Hamlhein, was delighted to see so many angels flying about in disarray. He happily tossed aside the near-lifeless Hamlhein and eagerly swung a club that was still soft and not fully solidified, charging forward. A sharp ape cry echoed, and suddenly the sky was filled with the Monkey’s form. His world-renowned Door of Death Cudgel was unleashed, the field of vision utterly dominated by flickering blurs of the staff, as if heaven and earth had been entirely replaced by that single weapon; all rules here and now became the staff!

With a resounding crack, the Monkey joined the fray, and the angelic legion instantly collapsed. A contingent of high-ranking angels had managed to rally some subordinates to counterattack, occasionally destroying or damaging a few White Wing warships. But as soon as the Monkey entered the field, the sky filled with wildly flying staves. In the blink of an eye, tens of thousands of angels, six-winged and above, were beaten into piles of pulverized flesh and bone, their skeletons shattered. In just a few breaths, the density of white feathers scattered across space increased severalfold, accompanied everywhere by the dying shrieks of angels.

Yang Jian watched with keen interest and joined the fight. Unlike the Monkey’s earth-shattering, grand momentum, Yang Jian moved like a leopard lurking in the tall grass—every strike clean and powerful, every movement swift as a sudden, muffled thunderclap across the horizon. His figure flashed through the battlefield; every reappearance was precisely beside a high-ranking angel, and his Three-Pointed Double-Edged Blade invariably plunged into the angel’s heart, utterly extinguishing its vitality.

A faint golden silhouette flickered continuously through the void; with every strike, a high-ranking angel fell. For Yang Jian, the vast battlefield was as easy to survey as reading lines on his palm. He followed the shortest trajectory, the shortest attack route, utilizing maximum efficiency to precisely harvest the lives of Six-Winged, Eight-Winged, and Ten-Winged Angels.

The Monkey howled in frustration, cursing loudly. The low-ranking angels were too fragile; one sweep of his staff would obliterate thousands of lesser angels. Yet, Yang Jian was busy slaughtering the high-ranking angels within the legion. This was like a strong man with a good bite hoping to crack some shelled beans for a quick snack, only to find that all the beans were soft and boiled, not the crispy, deep-fried ones he desired.

The Monkey was enraged, and the consequences were severe. He suddenly retracted his vast Dharma Body and blew a breath of pure energy onto his staff. With a thunderous boom, a colossal staff, over two thousand li long and dozens of li thick, faintly rumbling with thunder, erupted from the void. The Monkey pointed, and the staff swept across the expanse like a massive rolling pin, from left to right.

Innumerable flashes of white light erupted. Great crowds of angels, crushed beneath this impossibly huge weapon, were pulverized like eggs under a road roller. The Monkey shouted gleefully, driving the outrageously large and impossibly heavy staff back and forth. Wherever it swept, angels desperately cried out the holy names of their progenitor to the heavens, including the Ten-Winged Angels whose power reached the Heavenly Immortal grade. Any angel struck by the staff exploded mid-air into a burst of white light.

Yang Jian, caught off guard, nearly suffered a glancing blow from the staff. Annoyed, he cursed the Monkey several times, then spitefully turned away—the Monkey was clearly enjoying himself and was capable of any reckless act imaginable. Yang Jian had no taste for self-abuse and certainly did not wish to be 'accidentally' killed by the Monkey.

The immense staff swept left and right through the void, trailing ten thousand zhang of golden light and boundless auspicious aura. Tens of millions of angels were annihilated beneath it. The Monkey, ‘accidentally’ but deliberately, made the staff violently collide with the Ten Absolute Formations. The Formations shuddered violently, but the Monkey's staff suddenly froze in mid-air, nearly being sucked into the Formation itself. Even from a distance, the Monkey felt a terrifying force transmit through the staff, as if his very soul were about to be drawn out.

Shouting, "Impressive!" the Monkey dared not continue testing strength against the Ten Absolute Formations and quickly summoned his treasured staff back.

Yang Jian looked back with a cunning smile. He narrowed his eyes, gazing at the Ten Absolute Formations, and chuckled softly, "That monkey is incredibly bold, daring to casually touch such an ancient, vicious formation? Ten Absolute Formations, ah, Ten Absolute Formations. Those few from the Jie Sect—to meet these old acquaintances again here in the mortal realm."

Gu Xiechen observed that the angelic legion was utterly routed. The bravest, most fearless combat puppets had been eliminated first. The remaining ten million-plus angels were all timid, weaker Two-Winged and Four-Winged types, and he lost the desire to exterminate them completely. He flicked his wrist; the Chaos Bell soared skyward with a stream of spiritual light. Gu Xiechen spat three streams of his vital essence onto the Chaos Bell. Instantly, a continuous, deep ringing filled the void. The trapped angels, hearing the sound, collapsed to the ground one after another.

Without waiting for Gu Xiechen’s instruction, Peng Hua cackled and charged forward. He fiercely waved the Netherworld Fan through the void, unleashing a burst of black smoke that erupted as if the very fabric of space was tearing, accompanied by dull thunder and shrill cries of ghosts and wolves. Countless distorted, hazy figures flickered in and out of the smoke. They swarmed forward, dragging the unconscious angels into the Netherworld Fan. The four primal forces of water, fire, wind, and earth within the fan swirled and ground together. Millions of angels had their wings snapped, screaming as they plummeted toward the boundless mountains and rivers within the Netherworld Fan.

Having gained over ten million angels as reinforcement, the Netherworld Fan’s fierce might increased dramatically. Dense black miasma continuously spewed from the fan's surface, faintly hinting at the aura of a top-grade magic artifact.

Peng Hua decided to finish the job. He swung the fan hundreds of times toward the scattered golden angel blood, the messy feathers, and the shattered angel bodies. Black smoke billowed wildly, sucking all the remnants of the fallen angels into the Netherworld Fan, transforming them into wisps of spiritual energy within the fan, further thickening the black miasma. The fan body grew so black it shone, so bright it became almost transparent, vaguely resembling something carved from black crystal.

Nodding in satisfaction, Peng Hua gave a slight shake, and a wisp of black energy jetted out of the Netherworld Fan. A three-meter-tall figure, exceedingly handsome, with four wings faintly condensed from black smoke on his back, surged forth from the black mist. Following Peng Hua’s command, this figure, wielding a pale black light-saber, shot across the void. In the blink of an eye, it reached tens of thousands of li away and cleaved a small, thousand-meter-diameter meteor into two pieces with a single stroke. Faint black energy coiled around the meteor, and this single strike had completely drained all the spiritual energy from the celestial body.

With a flicker of black light, the figure returned to Peng Hua’s side and bowed deeply and respectfully. Just a few breaths ago, this person was a member of the angelic legion; now, he was merely a wisp of vengeful spirit within Peng Hua’s Netherworld Fan, a weapon of war that had forgotten its past, its very energy signature utterly transformed.

The nearby split meteor suddenly shifted, slowly collapsing like quicksand, quickly scattering into vast clouds of stardust. Having been completely stripped of its spiritual essence, the meteor dissolved into mere dust.

Ban Ruo and Mo He flashed into existence simultaneously beside Peng Hua. They glanced at the Netherworld Fan and both exclaimed, "A fine item!"

Peng Hua laughed triumphantly toward the sky, gracefully waving the Netherworld Fan, adopting the flamboyant air of a wealthy young master. However, while the fans of noble youths merely emitted faint fragrance, his fan blew chilling winds and spectral sounds, further emphasizing Peng Hua’s pale face, making him look ghostly—enough to frighten timid children if seen late at night.

Hamlhein stared blankly at the dying Dura, then at his own annihilated angelic legion, and suddenly shrieked fiercely, "What is happening? My believers!"

Gu Xiechen stomped his foot down onto Hamlhein’s chest, then swiftly pressed a talisman over his seven orifices, sealing his soul, rendering him incapable of uttering another word. He glanced coldly at Hamlhein and sharply reprimanded him, "Shut up. I am in a foul mood right now; do not force me to kill you. Believers? Ha. What right do you have to warrant our faith?"

With a wave of his hand, his armor detached. Gu Xiechen’s holy light receded, and two auras, one black and one white, rushed out from within him, coalescing above his head into a vast, faintly rotating Taiji diagram. The intensely yin and cold Taiyin Qi and the intensely yang and hot Taiyang Qi counteracted and evolved one another. Where the yin and yang energies met, faint golden light sparked and drifted down, gradually forming a small golden cloud bed above Gu Xiechen’s head. Drops of golden light dripped from the edge of the cloud bed, ceaseless like water dripping from eaves. After falling several zhang, the golden light bloomed into golden lotuses the size of a thumb, precisely supporting Gu Xiechen’s body.

Yang Jian and the Monkey exchanged astonished glances. Gu Xiechen’s Immortal Dao cultivation had reached a critical point. Although his strength was only at the Heavenly Immortal level, his mastery of the Way was no weaker than a Golden Immortal. The golden cloud, light, and lotuses above his head were clearly the signs of having entered the threshold of some extremely formidable Immortal Dao method, already approaching a state of perfection.

In ancient times, only immortals at the Taiyi Golden Immortal level could manifest such protective spiritual radiance. That Gu Xiechen, at the Heavenly Immortal level, could produce such a small area of light, barely half a zhang in radius, made them wonder what heaven-defying cultivation method he practiced and how he achieved such profound mastery.

... Dao mastery is hard to obtain, yet Gu Xiechen, despite his relatively weak magical power, possessing the cultivation level of Ru Cha Ban Pin, had reached such profound realization. This left Yang Jian and the Monkey utterly bewildered.

The moment the spiritual light appeared, the faces of Hamlhein and Dura turned exceptionally grim. They stared in shock at the strange phenomenon Gu Xiechen displayed. Dura suddenly sighed to the heavens, "Are you the cultivators who clashed with the descendants of the Third Archangel, Morophe, back then? On that occasion, Morophe begged for the Ancestor’s power to destroy those strong, greedy cultivators. Oh, Supreme Ancestor, why could you disguise yourselves as our believers? What were you truly trying to accomplish?"

Hamlhein glared viciously at Gu Xiechen, thinking furiously, "Cultivators? Damnation. We should have used all our strength to utterly destroy you back then! Damnable, damnable..."

Gu Xiechen glanced coldly at Dura. No wonder the angel race from the Thirteen Connected Star Field could perish alongside the ancient Daoists of Heaven Star. It turned out Morophe had utilized the power of their Ancestor. The angel race excelled at inviting gods into their bodies to borrow the strength of higher beings to attack enemies. It was not surprising that Morophe, as an Archangel, could supplicate the power of their Ancestor. Estimating from the power displayed by Huitang Longgen, the angel race's Ancestor was at least a high-level Golden Immortal, making the destruction of the rogue Immortals and Daoists of Heaven Star effortless.

He ground the sole of his foot forcefully against Hamlhein’s face, crushing his high, straight nose crookedly, and Gu Xiechen said coldly, "Enough. Do not look at us with that expression. The reason we left you alive is because you cannot die. I still need you to deal with a far more troublesome group later!"

Due to Gu Xiechen and his companions' "pious" faith, Hamlhein had, during this period, revealed much about the secrets of the angel race, even disclosing some of his own classified information to Gu Xiechen without reservation. Gu Xiechen, following Hamlhein's instructions, skillfully removed all the sacred artifacts and magical items from his body, carefully sealing them with talismans. Dura was treated similarly; as a Wisdom Angel specializing in spreading doctrine and developing believers, Dura possessed far more sacred artifacts and items than Hamlhein.

After sealing these sacred items, Gu Xiechen selected two seemingly ordinary white crosses. He smiled strangely at Hamlhein and Dura, concentrating all his power to send a thread of mental fluctuation into the crosses. His mental energy was instantly absorbed by the crosses, transforming into a thick, powerful mental shockwave that rapidly propagated toward several nearby stars. After absorbing the shockwave, these stars amplified the mental vibrations hundreds of millions of times in an instant, projecting the shocks outward immediately. In the blink of an eye, the message reached the distant Yu Lei territory.

Tens of thousands of stars simultaneously flashed with joyous light. They had received the reports from Hamlhein and Dura: they had successfully eliminated the armed forces of those heretics and were preparing to conquer their territories. Under the Ancestor’s radiant light, these heretics would surely be moved by the Ancestor’s summons and become devout believers of the angel race.

The Wisdom Angel Dura confidently assured these kinsmen that given fifty to one hundred years, these lost children would certainly become the little lambs of their Ancestor, living happily under the Ancestor's wings, and in turn dedicating an enormous amount of faith energy to their Ancestor. This was a rich place of belief with immense potential—millions of administrative stars, hundreds of trillions of highly intelligent beings—the faith power they could provide was astonishing.

Soon, Gu Xiechen, holding the two white crosses, received the resolution from the Supreme Sanctuary, composed of the seven most powerful angels in the race: The Wisdom Angel Dura must develop believers in the new land of faith as quickly as possible; the Thrones Angel Hamlhein must assist Dura in his duties, and if any heretics dared to resist, Hell would be the best destination for them.

The flashes on the surface of the stars gradually subsided. The higher-ranking angels of the angel race fell back into a deep slumber. They slept peacefully and comfortably, continuously collecting the faith energy of their believers, converting this pure power for their own evolution, while sending the vast majority of the energy to their Ancestor, allowing the Ancestor to accumulate sufficient strength in hopes of the day the Ancestor could awaken.

Setting down the two white crosses, Gu Xiechen smiled at the crestfallen Hamlhein and Dura.

Hamlhein and Dura drooped their faces as if attending a funeral, their heads hanging listlessly. Gu Xiechen’s methods were utterly supreme. This way, the members of the angel race believed the two were diligently spreading the faith. According to angel tradition, no one would inquire about their missionary work. Only when the appointed time arrived would those Sanctuaries take the initiative to contact Hamlhein and Dura to ask about the progress in developing the new land of faith. Generally, this was when the higher-ranking angels of the angel race would divide the spoils of the new territory!

That time frame was fifty to one hundred years later. Given the habits of the Seven Sanctuaries, they would prudently wait for about a hundred and ten years before inquiring about developments.

Within one hundred and ten years, no one would discover that the angelic legion led by Hamlhein and Dura had met disaster, nor would anyone discover that Hamlhein and Dura themselves had been captured.

Gu Xiechen deliberately spared the lives of Hamlhein, Dura, and the fifteen Twelve-Winged Angels under their command. As long as they lived, their mother star would show no abnormality, and the angel race would not suspect any issues with them. By keeping them alive, Gu Xiechen could buy himself over a hundred years.

To the Higher Angels, it was unclear why Gu Xechen needed this amount of time. A single slumber could span millennia. A mere century was nothing more than the blink of an eye to them. Yet, they instinctively sensed that Gu Xechen’s procurement of this time must serve a distinct purpose, that some colossal conspiracy awaited the angel legions. But what kind of conspiracy could it be? Hamelain and Dora stared at each other, feeling utterly lost in a dense fog, completely unable to decipher Gu Xechen's true intentions.

Stamping repeatedly onto Hamelain’s face, Gu Xechen stopped only when the angel’s features were utterly ruined. His expression was grim as he turned to face the dragon head of Ducate, floating in the void. He had vented all his rage and sorrow upon Hamelain until the angel’s head was nearly crushed underfoot. Only then did he summon the courage to look back at the unrecognizable face of Ducate.

Perhaps due to the inherent hardiness of a reptilian creature, Ducate’s body had been reduced to ash, but his head retained a flicker of vitality. He glared fixedly at Gu Xechen, only turning his attention away when Gu Xechen had finished his grim business. Ducate slowly opened his massive maw, his large eyes gradually narrowing.

Gu Xechen gazed at Ducate. He could no longer sense the familiar essence of Ducate on the dragon head; all that remained was the scent of the Mo Tang Long Gen three-headed dragon clan.

The two stared at each other for a long time before Gu Xechen spoke in a measured tone, “Dust to dust, earth to earth. The Roman people engineered you, and you have avenged their complete extermination. From now on, there will be no Roman clan in Yulei, nor will there be Ducate, nor any trace of Xiao. Some things, once done, can never be undone.”

With a long sigh, not allowing Ducate to utter a word, Gu Xechen unleashed a 'Flying Waterfall Sleeve' strike. The dual Yin-Yang forces exploded within the massive dragon head, shattering it into dust. The soul and flesh of the Mo Tang Long Gen lineage were fused; as his body disintegrated, his soul vanished along with it. Just as Gu Xechen declared, there would be no remnant of Ducate, or that young man named Xiao, in this Yulei.

Watching the dragon head turn to gray smoke, Peng Hua suddenly cursed, angrily slamming a fist randomly beside him: “What the hell is going on here?”

Peng Hua failed to notice that his outburst of rage happened to strike the monkey whose eyes were darting about. Startled by Peng Hua’s sudden swing, every golden hair on the monkey’s body bristled with amusement. He effortlessly nullified the power in Peng Hua’s punch with a light palm, then followed up with a swift kick to Peng Hua’s abdomen. Peng Hua cried out in agony, propelled hundreds of miles away like a cannonball, left convulsing and suspended in the vacuum, utterly immobilized.

Gu Xechen shook his head, turned, and beckoned the others. Using the Taiyin Profound Pearl, he collected all the warships, and the group embarked on a dead star vessel, heading back toward the Spiral Star Domain.

After a brief stop in the Yafik Empire, they left behind special terrestrial products and the supplemental cultivation aid, the Zakla Crystal Stones, for the citizens of the Earth Federation settled on colony worlds like Vol. Gu Xechen did not linger with Fuya and Ming; he left behind the Ten Heavenly Sovereigns, the Four Generals of the Mo family, the Wind, Rain, Lightning, and the five Xin Jia brothers in Yafik, then hurried back to Heaven Star.

The major fleets of the Star Alliance were utterly destroyed, and even the descendants of the bloodlines Gu Xechen had subjugated, such as Ling, perished in the self-detonation of the Mother God-class fortress. The Star Alliance had suffered a devastating blow; it was now difficult to find a single operational main battle ship within that vast interstellar organization. The current fleet strength held by Fuya and Ming alone was enough to sweep the entire Star Alliance clean. Gu Xechen left them with instructions to develop as they saw fit and departed with confidence.

The Star Alliance was now nothing more than an empty shell, with a massive upheaval clearly imminent. How much benefit the Yafik Empire could seize from this would depend entirely on Fuya and Ming’s capabilities!

The reason for his hasty return to Heaven Star was the simultaneous alarm bells rung by Gu Yuru and Blackjack. A colossal horde of Dark Creatures had crossed space and inexplicably arrived in the Thirteen Consecutive Star Domain. The leading generals of these Dark Creatures had already begun contacting Blackjack. Blackjack's secret message informed Gu Xechen that these creatures were tracking residual energy from the magic array and the Silver Wolf statue left by Ganglu years ago.

Gu Xechen was greatly alarmed. He couldn't fathom that the Dark Creatures possessed such acute sensory powers to track residual energy across the vast void from a destroyed array and statue. Someone must have tampered with things. And he could likely guess who—besides that old dragon trapped from the Mo Tang Long Gen clan, who else possessed the strength, inclination, and opportunity to aid these displaced Dark Creatures?

It must be that Mo Tang Long Gen sensed his progeny would be no match for Gu Xechen. He was evidently sending these Dark Creatures to the Thirteen Consecutive Star Domain specifically to cause trouble for him. However, Gu Xechen now commanded three genuine Golden Immortal-level experts—Yang Jian, the Monkey, and Daoist Wuchen—along with Mao E, the Fire Crow, and the Yin Fiends, who, despite their weaker strength, possessed sharp weaponry. If he truly wished it, he could annihilate these Dark Creatures!

With Daoist Wuchen and Yang Jian contributing their full might, the group swiftly traversed the vast star sea and rushed back to the Thirteen Consecutive Star Domain.

By this time, the Church of Light had been compressed onto the first planet of the Thirteen Consecutive Star Domain; the other twelve planets had all been occupied by the Dark Creatures. These creatures hadn't merely brought their own kin; they had also brought masses of captured alien slaves and puppet undead creatures. Gu Xechen found it almost incomprehensible how such a massive force had traversed the domains.

When Gu Xechen secretly infiltrated the headquarters of the Church of Light, Gu Yuru was pacing frantically in the Pope’s private chambers, his face ashen, muttering incoherently about their impending doom. When Gu Xechen suddenly appeared before him, the wide-eyed, frothing Gu Yuru let out a cry of joy, immediately falling to his knees at Gu Xechen’s feet and clinging tightly to his leg.

“Great-Uncle, save us! Those Dark Creatures are terrifying! Waaah!” Clinging to Gu Xechen’s leg, Gu Yuru wailed, trembling as he recounted the events of the past few days.

The Dark Creatures had emerged suddenly from the void outside the Dark Temple of the Dark Church. That region of space had inexplicably manifested a massive magic array, forcefully ripping open the void to form a fixed Stargate in mere moments. Accompanied by a dense, visible scent of blood, a tide of Dark Creatures surged out of the gate.

Fortunately, the deities worshipped by the Dark Church, represented by Blackjack, shared the same lineage as the Dark Creatures; they all venerated the same Dark Deity. Thus, thanks to Blackjack’s maneuvering, the sudden arrivals wasted a significant amount of time conquering the planets of the Thirteen Consecutive Star Domain. It took a full half-month before the Dark Creatures discovered the existence of the Church of Light.

The great battle then commenced. The Dark Creature army advanced toward the second planet controlled by the Church of Light. Gu Yuru, while cautiously arranging the evacuation of his populace, organized an army composed of elite Holy Knights and numerous high-ranking clergy to intercept the attack. This force essentially comprised seventy percent of all the military power Gu Yuru commanded, especially the high-ranking clergy—eighty percent of Cardinals and Archbishops, among other major figures, were thrown into this ambush.

The battle’s outcome drove Gu Yuru to despair; all the high-ranking personnel of the Church were utterly terrified. The Dark Creatures only dispatched eight high-ranking warriors—eight warriors possessing Celestial Immortal cultivation—who, like playing a game, effortlessly slaughtered the fifty thousand Church Knights and captured all the clergy alive. Subsequently, under the surveillance of reconnaissance satellites built by the Gu Corporation, these Dark Creatures gleefully roasted several thousand high-ranking clergy members into fragrant, sizzling barbecue offerings for their deity, devouring every last piece, leaving not even a bone behind.

The high-precision reconnaissance satellites even intercepted the creatures’ conversation; they expressed great appreciation for the tender, springy muscles of the clergy. Constantly enveloped by Holy Light, the clergy’s muscles remained in a perpetually youthful and vigorous state. The Dark Creatures even proposed that they should start farming the clergy in large numbers as raw material for barbecue.

Gazing anxiously at the grim-faced Gu Xechen, Gu Yuru wailed, “Great-Uncle, save me! My fifty thousand strong army, gone in the blink of an eye!”

Gu Xechen was so enraged that he kicked Gu Yuru flying, muttering coldly, “Idiot! Have you forgotten the matter of the Seven Generals of the Wolf Clan? You dared to send your Church Knights, whose strongest were barely Earth Star-level Innate Fighters, against those Dark Creatures?”

After viciously stomping on Gu Yuru a few times, Gu Xechen sneered, “However, this is fine as well. Since they have come, they shall not return. Hmm…”

After a moment of contemplation, Gu Xechen pulled Gu Yuru up, whispered a few words into his ear. Gu Yuru listened to Gu Xechen’s words dumbly, then suddenly let out a low, sinister laugh.

The very next morning, a contingent of the Dark Creature army, led by twenty generals at the early Celestial Immortal grade, aggressively charged toward the Church of Light. Within the vast Dark Army numbering nearly a million, the vanguard consisted of three bull-headed figures, each standing about ten meters tall. Behind them, seven wolf-men with distinctly different coats watched the magnificent structures of the Church of Light on the ground with predatory gazes.

The Dark Army, cloaked in vile black winds, descended about two hundred kilometers west of the Grand Cathedral of the Church of Light. The million-strong army quickly deployed, forming exactly one thousand phalanxes of a thousand men each, surging towards the central cathedral like a massive tidal wave. The burly forms of the Dark Creatures, generally over five meters tall, landed heavily, their pounding footsteps shaking the ground and causing nearby forests to collapse. Dust billowed skyward, battle horns shrieked into the heavens, and the Dark Creatures drooled with excitement, fantasizing about the tender flesh of the priests they would share after conquering the Church.

Just as the Dark Creatures charged forward with eager enthusiasm, a faint golden light and sixteen dense silver lights shot into the sky. Each bore a long paper talisman stuck to its brow, its vital points pierced by fine white bone needles, rendering all their powers sealed and their very souls frozen. Hamelain, Dora, and the other seventeen High Angels hovered in the void, their immense Holy Power continuously radiating outward. Blazing holy flames enveloped the sky, and dense, substantial Holy Light sprinkled the earth. The Dark Creatures were caught completely off guard, especially the undead creatures, which simultaneously emitted piercing, terrified screams.

Wherever the Holy Light touched, thick smoke erupted from the Dark Creatures’ bodies. They cried out in pain, clutching their eyes burned by the Holy Light, and collapsed onto the ground.

A resonant battle cry burst forth from within the Church of Light. Millions of Church Knights surged out, shouting the battle cry, “The Heavenly Lord is Omnipotent!” Each knight bore indistinct wings of light on their backs—some two, some four. With their cultivation having soared several dozen times over, the Church Knights fought like a true Angel Legion, valiantly charging into the massive formation of the Dark Creatures.

Siren and Aredia beat their black wings and soared high above. Streaks of intense light flashed around them, and Dark Angels, ten meters tall with six black wings on their backs, burst forth from the glare. Tens of thousands of Dark Angels coordinated with the empowered Church Knights, fiercely slaughtering their way into the Dark Creature array.

Hamelain and Dora silently sensed the bizarre transformation occurring within their bodies, truly wishing they could weep tears.

The faith power of over a million Church Knights continuously poured into their bodies, transforming into surging Holy Power before rapidly exiting them and flowing into the bodies of the knights. With this ceaseless stream of Holy Power, the combat effectiveness of the Church Knights was immensely boosted. Hamelain, Dora, and the other High Angels had effectively become energy amplifiers and cultivation speed accelerators for the entire army of the Church of Light.

Who else but Gu Xechen could devise such a wicked plan?

Since the Dark Creatures had arrived in the Thirteen Consecutive Star Domain, even though they possessed the strength to eliminate them, it seemed like a terrible waste!

With Blackjack acting as an insider, these somewhat simple-minded Dark Creatures wouldn't be able to cause major upheaval. Rather than wiping them out, it was better to let them serve as a whetstone for the Earth Federation, replacing the Roman people. Tens of millions of Federation soldiers required a formidable enemy to stimulate their growth, and the numerous, reasonably powerful Dark Creatures fit this role perfectly.

With the protection of experts like Peng Hua, Daoist Wuchen, Siren, and Aredia—all at the Celestial Immortal or even Golden Immortal level—it was entirely impossible for the Dark Creatures to breach the Church of Light. The Church of Light could serve perfectly as Gu Xechen's training camp. Let these warlike, unrepentant, and unyielding Dark Creatures serve to hone his troops.

In the Thirteen Consecutive Star Domain, the Dark Creatures, controlling twelve planets, and the Church of Light, retaining only one, erupted into a protracted conflict between Light and Darkness.

This war, once it began, raged for forty-nine years!

Gu Xechen had long since departed, entering secluded cultivation for those forty-nine years!

Comrades, Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, vote often!

Pig Head has been extremely busy lately, so I’ll just howl a few times at the end of the chapter instead of making a separate appeal for votes!

To encourage Pig Head to settle down and write diligently afterward, please vote many, many, many, many, many times!