The world around him shattered completely.
Ye Yu awoke with a start.
Fear filled his eyes as he stared ahead.
Du Yu’s slash had appeared unremarkable, but only someone who faced it head-on could truly grasp its force. It was unbeatable and inescapable—he hadn’t even a moment to react. The power of a God Lord was indeed terrifying beyond measure. To die by that blade was no great injustice. It was just a pity that, despite every means he had tried, he could not survive.
Sigh.
The next instant, the System’s voice rang out.
“Illusion concluded!”
“Demonic age: 210 years.”
“Divine age: 2 years.”
“Dream rating: Perfect-!”
“You have been granted two random Dream Rewards!”
“1. Late-stage New God cultivation.”
“2. One-Breath Golden Body!”
“When a dream’s rating is Excellent or above, two items manifest at random.”
“a. Superior artifact: Soulcleaver.”
“b. Succubus Bai Shuang’s Dao Companion Manual.”
As the announcement faded, a surge of divine energy flooded into him. Ye Yu’s cultivation leapt into the {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} late New God Realm! Simultaneously, the method to use One-Breath Golden Body solidified in his mind—identical to how it had worked in the dream, with a one-month cooldown. It was long, but invaluable as a life-saving skill: invincible for one breath.
Then a manual appeared in his hand—the Dao Companion Manual of Succubus Bai Shuang—detailing companion names, pet names, preferences, methods of heartfelt dialogue, and more. With this information, undermining Bai Shuang would be a cinch! He could even, like Ye Yu in the dream, call upon three God Lord-level enforcers as muscle. Success meant walking the Divine Realm unchallenged.
But Ye Yu had no such intention. He simply refused to betray anyone for his own gain—his bottom line. Even so, he didn’t discard the manual; he stored it in his ring, waiting for the right person to gift it to.
Hmm, besides those rewards, there was also the Superior Artifact Soulcleaver. Ye Yu scanned his surroundings—no sign of it. Had Soulcleaver been sent straight to Xie Buyu? That would be fine; she couldn’t sense its spirit anyway, so she couldn’t activate its power. It would gather dust until repaired.
Ye Yu shook his head and tried to rise—but discovered something holding him down with a familiar shape. Wait—how was Soulcleaver here, too? And in an intangible form? He had to grope for it to withdraw it. What a hassle!
He carefully grasped the blade. He stared—but saw nothing. An invisible Soulcleaver could only be felt in the hand. System, I really must dock your rating this time! You give rewards, then force me to manifest an invisible artifact—are you messing with me? Or forcing me to go see Master Ge to have it reforged? If so, that would be a huge burden—after a dream, the dream lord had no memory. Just explaining to Master Ge would take half a day, and there was no guarantee he’d believe me. Why add more trouble?
Ye Yu shook his head, then realized something crucial: none of the dream rewards had gone to the dream heroine’s hands! That was rare.
Meanwhile, someone remained within the dream.
Du Yu’s laughter grew more deranged, louder and louder. Yet Hanyue Xi paid him no mind, simply staring ahead at the spot where Ye Yu had stood—now a black rift in space, slowly closing. Nonetheless, Du Yu’s final slash—so effortlessly delivered without any grand spectacle—had been a sure-kill strike. Thankfully she had not stood in its path, or she too would have entered reincarnation.
But thinking on it, it seemed strange: could a God Sovereign-level warrior truly die so quietly? With not a single life-saving skill? As Hanyue Xi pondered, Du Yu’s laughter abruptly halted. He furrowed his brow and stared ahead in confusion, then laughed bitterly, pointing at the unconscious old dog.
Before he could speak, his divine body shattered completely, scattering across the ground. A God Lord of Moon-Edge Pavilion’s elder had fallen! A life-for-a-life!
Hanyue Xi sighed as she took in the empty scene. She had hoped Ye Yu might help—but it seemed impossible now. As she turned to leave, a streak of light dashed toward her. It was Xie Buyu, the one earlier teleported away by talisman magic. Upon arrival she looked at Hanyue Xi, her voice trembling: “Ye—Ye Yu? He...did he fall?”
Hanyue Xi still hesitated. How could a God Sovereign-level warrior die so plainly? Should there not have been cosmic omens, falling stars? Of course those were minor. What truly baffled her was that with Ye Yu’s displayed power, he should not have died so thoroughly—at worst severely injured, right? The facts before her left no room for rebuttal, and she remained conflicted.
Xie Buyu, unaware that Ye Yu had stood down Du Yu’s full-power strike, assumed the old dog’s words were all true: Ye Yu was just window dressing; his fall was inevitable. Yet she could not accept it, and cried out, “What do you mean ‘should’? Did he fall or not?”
Hanyue Xi opened her mouth to reply—but felt a violent vibration from the ring on her finger. Her expression changed, and she sped southward, calling over her shoulder, “His soul and body are both extinguished—but it’s okay, because soon...”
She vanished before she could finish. To Xie Buyu, nothing else mattered. With the soul gone, there was no chance for reincarnation. Xie Buyu’s spirit died within her; she felt utterly hollow. She could not comprehend why her life was so bitter.
Not far off, the old dog suddenly opened his eyes.
