The Old Dragon was shaken, his expression shifting between apprehension and forced calm. Ling Xiao spoke the words of "offering help," yet every syllable dripped with a hidden, extraordinary meaning.
However, at this moment, the dragon could not flatly refuse. From Ling Xiao's tone, he had read another layer of intent: If you want the secret to your future, you'd best pay the consultation fee first.
"Very well. It is only reasonable."
Once the Old Dragon rationalized this, his heart felt significantly lighter. A fawning smile spread across his face.
"Then we shall trouble Fellow Daoist Ling Xiao! Look at this—Fellow Daoist is a distinguished guest of my Dragon Clan, yet we must still burden you with such concerns. This great kindness is something the entire Dragon Clan shall never forget."
The Old Dragon cupped his hands in gratitude, then turned his gaze toward the dazed Ao Zhan, his voice sharpening with authority.
"Ao Zhan, why are you standing there like a statue? Hurry and lead the way!"
"This..."
Ao Zhan was dumbfounded. He looked back and forth between the two men, feeling as if they were operating in entirely different universes.
It was too absurd. The Clan Elder had actually agreed to Ling Xiao's demand to enter the Dragon Clan treasury—a hoard they had spent countless eons accumulating!
They themselves barely used its contents, yet now they were leading Ling Xiao there? Wasn't this just giving it away for free?
If this man decided to "openly rob" them later, who could possibly stop him? He feared the entire treasury would be hauled away in one go.
"Hmm?" Seeing Ao Zhan hesitate, the Old Dragon's brows furrowed as he summoned the majesty of a patriarch.
"Fellow Daoist Ling Xiao, this way please!" Ao Zhan shuddered and stood up instantly, making a polite gesture of invitation.
Thus, Ling Xiao, accompanied by the Old Dragon and Ao Zhan, began his "tour" of the Dragon Palace, heading straight for the treasury.
Meanwhile, in the Honghuang World, the Yao Race had fallen into a state of desperate flight following their crushing defeat. Even their stronghold at the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains had been lost.
The Yao hierarchy had shifted from a unified front to scattered guerrilla resistance.
This time, the Twelve Ancestral Witches were possessed by an iron resolve, determined to utterly eradicate the Yao. The flames of war spread from the east to the north, covering infinite territories.
One could frequently see Great Witches of the Wu Clan leading millions of warriors to "plow the courtyard and sweep the threshold," systematically dismantling one Yao tribe after another.
The Yao were a diverse and vast coalition of countless beings, including powerful tribes numbering in the millions, yet they remained unable to withstand the savage momentum of the Wu.
On this day, at the surging coastline of the North Sea, Kunpeng arrived, dragging his broken frame behind him. He intended to dive into the depths to heal his wounds.
The Hundred Thousand Great Mountains were gone; there was no safe harbor left but his ancient nest.
But Kunpeng had not anticipated that several pairs of eyes were already fixed upon him from the shadows, filled with covetous hunger.
The timing was ripe. Styx finally lost his patience and decided to strike. Feeling the strong beckoning of the Primordial Violet Qi, even his usually steady nature could no longer restrain the impulse.
"Fellow Daoist Kunpeng, long time no see. Why are you in such a pathetic state?"
Styx manifested his form, asking with a light chuckle as his eyes radiated a blood-red light.
Kunpeng's feathers stood on end. Seeing his old nemesis, his face shifted through shocks of alarm and fury. He knew exactly what Styx was here for.
"Styx! What do you intend? Do you think that because I have suffered a few 'minor' injuries, you can have your way?"
He suppressed his rage and spoke coldly, forcing a facade of composure.
"Minor injuries?"
Styx sneered internally. He had followed Kunpeng from the very beginning of his retreat; he knew exactly how devastating the injuries were. To try and bluff him now was laughable.
"Kunpeng, stop the act. Give me the Primordial Violet Qi immediately and I might grant you a swift end. Otherwise, I shall ensure your spirit and form are utterly extinguished!"
Styx wasted no more words. As his voice fell, he released a powerful Aura, pressing forward. If Kunpeng tried any tricks, Styx would strike him down on the spot.
"Quasi-Saint Middle Stage..."
Kunpeng's gaze shifted, his heart pounding. He hadn't expected this "filthy creature" from the Sea of Blood to have also slain his second corpse.
In his current state, with barely ten percent of his combat power remaining, he was no match for Styx.
"Styx, you are presumptuous! I am the Yao Race Supreme! You dare strike me? Are you not afraid of the Yao Race's retribution?"
Kunpeng barked the rebuke, his face taut.
At this, Styx burst into laughter. "Kunpeng, has your brain been damaged in the war?"
"The Yao Race can barely protect itself right now. You think they'll come for me?"
"Haha! What a colossal joke!"
Styx's laughter turned icy. The Yuantu and Abi twin swords at his back seemed to fill with blood-Qi, erupting with ten thousand feet of light as they slashed toward Kunpeng.
"Run!"
Kunpeng let out a long shriek, fleeing for his life with total abandon, but his heavy wounds made him far less agile than before.
The twin swords arrived in an instant, transcending time to carve two bloody holes into Kunpeng's body.
"Ah!"
Kunpeng roared in agony, his frame swaying. Though his heart burned with a mountain of rage, he had no way to vent it. He felt a sudden, hollow despair.
To think that because of this Violet Qi, he would meet his end here today.
"Stop!"
Suddenly, a world-shaking Dao-sound rang out. Along with the voice, celestial light illuminated the sky—peaceful and sacred. A figure draped in shimmering brilliance and pearlescent wealth stepped forth.
"East King Duke?"
Styx's expression shifted slightly, a forced smile appearing on his sinister face.
"East King Duke, what brings you here?"
"I am the Head of the Male Immortals, appointed by the Dao Ancestor himself. I carry the responsibility of maintaining the order of the Honghuang World. You two Fellow Daoists fighting here has already damaged the Primordial Order. Naturally, I cannot sit by and watch."
The East King Duke spoke with a solemn face, his tone dripping with righteousness.
Hearing this, Kunpeng's face lit up with joy. Was he actually going to be saved?
The East King Duke is truly a good Fellow Daoist! He actually proves useful at a critical moment!
Kunpeng's gratitude for the Duke surged. In this moment of ultimate peril, the East King Duke was like a ray of dawn in a permanent night, illuminating his entire world.
Styx let out a cold laugh. "East King Duke, drop the act. You want the Primordial Violet Qi as much as I do. Let's settle this with our strength—whoever wins, takes it!"
Back at the Three Immortals Island, he had briefly cooperated with the Duke; he knew exactly what was going on in that man's head. The Duke's lust for the Violet Qi was in no way inferior to his own.
"Styx, since you've said it, I shall stop pretending. In order to 'better maintain' the Primordial Order, I must have that Primordial Violet Qi. You cannot win against me!"
The East King Duke smiled, no longer bothering with concealment.
As the words fell, Kunpeng was utterly stunned. His face turned a ghastly shade of pale.
He had thought the Duke was here to mediate fairly; he hadn't expected him to be here to join the feast.
In his crippled state, he couldn't even handle Styx, and now the Head of the Male Immortals had been added to the mix.
Death upon death!
This was an absolute death-trap with no possible escape.
"Styx, East King Duke... you both want the Violet Qi, but there is only one strand. How do you intend to split it?" Kunpeng's eyes flickered as he tried a desperate ploy to sow discord.
But Styx and the Duke were well aware of his games. They didn't even bother to entertain the question.
"You needn't worry about that, Fellow Daoist Kunpeng. Just go in peace!"
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