Facing Hua Jiuming’s threat, the Corpse God Dongfang Po’s expression remained utterly calm, even tinged with disdain. A being who had carved out a domain in the Divine Realm had faced countless threats—and what had become of those who had threatened him? All had perished, yet he still stood. That was reality. Even if this were merely a projection, his arrogance remained undiminished.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he launched the attack. The two “gods” clashed, unleashing a wild shockwave at the very first strike. Mo Tianjun and Ye Yu both fell back in unison—not because they could not withstand the force, but because they knew exactly what constituted a safe distance.
At that moment Ye Yu noticed Mo Tianjun still busy nearby. Both of his hands continued weaving new seals, his body voraciously drawing in the surrounding immortal qi. Perhaps sensing Ye Yu’s gaze, Mo Tianjun glanced over and said gravely, “Brother Ye, do not underestimate him. The Corpse God may not kill Hua Jiuming outright. We should prepare in advance.”
Ye Yu feigned solemn agreement and formed a sword seal with one hand. Instantly sword qi rippled around him, the clashing of steel echoing—but in truth he was merely treading water. He had resolved not to reveal his own ace until Mo Tianjun’s was played. As he had thought: either Hua Jiuming died, or Mo Tianjun did. He alone would survive.
More importantly, he was watching the battle closely. The fight between Corpse God Dongfang Po and Hua Jiuming was nothing short of spectacular. Both had already transcended the Immortal Emperor Stage, Ye Yu judged they lay between that realm and the Divine Realm. As he had suspected, there existed in the Celestial Realm a power ceiling beyond which one could not ascend. The Celestial Dao would not permit forces that surpassed that threshold.
That made things manageable: provided Hua Jiuming did not draw true Divine power, they had a fighting chance. Their only concern was godly techniques.
While Ye Yu watched, Mo Tianjun had completed charging his ultimate move. His six arms joined palms, and blood-red runes spread across the ground. The darkness was bathed in crimson light, and a suffocating oppression surged. Mo Tianjun then began chanting arcane incantations from three mouths.
The blood runes obeyed and raced toward Hua Jiuming like lightning. Though Hua Jiuming dodged immediately and flung out several brilliant petals to shatter the runes, the moment each petal touched a rune it was utterly absorbed.
Hua Jiuming’s face flickered in disbelief. “Could this be the fabled Emperor Blood Pattern?” he gasped.
“Indeed,” Mo Tianjun replied with pride. “You’ve walked the Divine Realm and your insight is sharp. It is the Emperor Blood Pattern! Eight Emperor-stage essences were gathered and refined with secret rites for over a hundred thousand years. Suffering the daily ravages of those essences, one completes it. It devours all mortal arts—unbreakable, indestructible! I was fortunate to obtain it and endure the torment to await this day.”
Hua Jiuming offered no reply and turned instead to face the Corpse God’s renewed assault—but he was struck and sent flying. Before he could steady himself, the blood runes coiled around his body, freezing him utterly. White mist began to rise from the bindings, as if his flesh were melting.
Corpse God Dongfang Po seized the moment. He drew a blood-red jade seal from his robes, raised it carefully, and imprinted it upon the void. “By Heaven’s Mandate, I grant you death!”
With that roar, Hua Jiuming’s body shattered into fragments. The Corpse God’s form dimmed—obviously drained by that strike—and faded completely after two breaths.
Mo Tianjun, too, was white as a sheet, gasping for air. He had expended tremendous effort. Ye Yu, by contrast, was not even sweating—he had merely been treading water.
But Hua Jiuming was not dead. As crimson petals drifted down, Ye Yu instinctively unleashed his Taichu Mysterious Art to shield himself. The petals coalesced and reformed into Hua Jiuming’s battered body, his complexion ashen and his pain palpable.
Seeing this, Ye Yu reached for the elixirs Mo Tianjun had drawn up for a follow-up boost. “Come on, rise and—” But he stopped himself. There was no need. Mo Tianjun had already vanished—no farewell, no trace. Perhaps he fled, or perhaps he lurked in the shadows saving another ace. Ye Yu chose to believe the latter and raised his communication stone. “You didn’t abandon me, did you?”
A breathless reply crackled through: “No, no—I’m seeking reinforcements! But find some cover! He’s no easy foe!”
The urgent wind hinted Mo Tianjun was on the move at top speed. He really had gone! Ye Yu pocketed the stone. There was no need for further words.
At that moment, Hua Jiuming’s cold voice drifted from behind: “I’m curious—why aren’t you fleeing? You even have time to contact your cowardly companion. Are you truly unafraid of death?”
Ye Yu did not turn. He only smiled softly: “Have I given you enough face?”
Hua Jiuming’s expression darkened and he prepared to strike—but in the next instant he realized the scene had utterly changed. Ye Yu had vanished, and in his place lay a scene of hell: a blood moon hung overhead, countless tormented souls wailed in anguish, and chilling winds raged.
Hua Jiuming assumed it was an illusion and began casting dispelling spells, but no effort ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) freed him. As he strained to perceive his surroundings, he detected a familiar aura—and whispered in disbelief: “Th-This is godly magic! You, too, came from the Divine Realm?”
