Yan Shuiyi staggered back, eyes narrowing as she watched Fang Han recover his mana in a single breath. Shock flickered across her normally tranquil gaze. She fixated on the spot between his brows, as though trying to discern the secret hidden there.
But how could she possibly recognize the World Tree seedling?
Even Elder Moving-Star had failed to see through it.
"So she wants my World Tree."
Fang Han's heart tightened—but then he burst into loud, unrestrained laughter.
"Your greed really knows no limit. But if you want a share of this treasure… dual cultivate with me. Let me draw out the Water God essence inside you with the Black Emperor Water-Dominion Fist and strengthen my Five-Emperor Demon Arts. Then—maybe—I'll allow you to use my treasure."
The World Tree seedling was the most precious thing he possessed. He would abandon even the Yellow Springs Diagram before giving it up. Without it, his Golden Core would burn out in mere moments during battle.
Yes, his Golden Core was powerful enough that few could survive even a single clash. But against a Longevity expert—or anyone wielding a top-grade Dao artifact—his lack of sustained endurance would be a death sentence. Facing Hua Tiandu would be hopeless.
This limitation came from his current cultivation realm. Once he reached the tenth level of Divine Ability—Defying Fate—his spiritual sea would expand, allowing vastly greater mana reserves. Only then could he fight long battles without relying on the World Tree.
"You refuse?" Yan Shuiyi's voice stayed calm. "Then I'll take it myself."
She raised her hand.
Clouds exploded across the sky—white fog swallowing heaven and earth.
She vanished.
Fang Han swept his divine sense outward—only to find it smothered, unable to pierce the mist. His face hardened.
"Five-Emperor Canopy—ward off a thousand evils!"
In the blink of an eye, he condensed the Five-Emperor Demon Power into a divine canopy above his head.
Just as the barrier settled, a colossal force struck him from behind—utterly without warning.
Clang!
The canopy trembled violently but held firm.
The Five-Emperor Demon Arts had always been terrifying. After his Golden Core refinement, their power rose again. If he survived the Wind-Fire Tribulation in the future, the Five-Element Astral Qi would be reborn through flame and storm—at that point, even the Human Emperor's Brush would need hundreds of strokes to pierce his body.
Now it would take dozens.
Before forming his Golden Core? Four strokes would have killed him instantly.
"No wonder the Five-Emperor Demon Arts are hailed as the supreme demonic power," Yan Shuiyi said, stepping out from the fog. "Even my Canghai Divine Pearl can't break through. It seems I'll have to use my true trump card—my Heaven-Calamity Primordial Spirit."
Mist curled around her feet as she walked. Wherever she stepped, the clouds shaped themselves into a bridge beneath her. Along its sides, cloud-dragons, cloud-tigers, and cloud-fairies bowed in worship.
She looked like a sovereign deity descending from the ninth heavens.
The Canghai Divine Pearl had disappeared, hidden—no doubt ready to ambush.
While she spoke, a black stormhead surged above her. Thunder rumbled. Erupting volcanos, hurricanes, collapsing earth—an apocalyptic aura radiated outward.
"Doomsday Calamity," Fang Han breathed.
He had seen this power before, when the twelve Golden Core prodigies of the Taiyi Sect combined forces to unleash their strongest group divine art. It was an art on par with the Five-Emperor Demon Arts.
But Yan Shuiyi was casting it alone.
Her version was far deeper, far deadlier.
Her primordial spirit—her innate law—was this very calamity.
Doomsday was unstoppable.
To cultivate this art required mastering countless supreme calamities: solar fire disaster, dark wind disaster, earth catastrophe, human tribulations, demon calamity, the triple-samsara disaster, karma disaster, spirit disaster—dozens of unspeakably high-level divine arts merged into one. One had to command overwhelming will, terrifying insight, and the courage to face annihilation in meditation for centuries.
Few in history had ever succeeded.
But once mastered?
One gained the right to call oneself—indestructible across all tribulations.
Yan Shuiyi unleashed her Heaven-Calamity Primordial Spirit.
A cloud of pure destruction plunged downward, enveloping Fang Han.
Fire erupted.
Thunder roared.
Continents cracked.
Seas boiled.
The world collapsed.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Before he could flee, immeasurable destruction bound him in place—like an insect trapped in amber.
"She can actually restrain me? This woman truly grasped the essence of Doomsday Calamity. But if she thinks this alone can kill me—dream on!"
Fang Han struggled—no effect. Calamities surged against him from all directions, tearing at reality itself. Even if they couldn't break his Golden Core body, who could endure such constant pressure?
Enough.
Rage flared. His body compressed inward—shrinking to barely a foot tall, like an infant—and even his Golden Core shrank to the size of a sesame seed.
He no longer intended to play defense.
If she wanted to end this—fine.
He would go all the way.
"She can't destroy him… his resilience is monstrous!"
Even as Fang Han marveled at her mastery, Yan Shuiyi was equally shaken. This art annihilated almost any opponent of her realm—shattering treasures, crushing flesh, scattering primordial spirits.
Yet Fang Han remained alive and roaring.
Not a drop of blood.
Not a crack in his Golden Core.
Only slowed movement.
A monster.
She gathered more power—
—and suddenly sensed danger.
Space caved inward.
The sesame-sized Golden Core exploded outward.
Boom!
It expanded a thousandfold in an instant, blazing like a newborn sun. Layer after layer of space rippled violently. For a moment, even the Astral Wind above the Nine Layers froze.
A house-sized Golden Core floated in the sky, divine arts lashing out in all directions. The Heaven-Calamity Primordial Spirit shattered instantly, thrown hundreds of miles away before it could reform.
"Fire, wind, water—they are nothing. Three disasters, nine calamities—you think that's enough? I am indestructible across ten thousand tribulations!"
Fang Han burst free, Golden Core spinning like a blazing star. He didn't slow—he advanced. The Yellow Springs Diagram trembled, and the Bridge of Forgetfulness thrust across the space between him and Yan Shuiyi.
He punched.
A world-devouring punch—dragging wind, qi, force, and heaven's currents toward him.
Yan Shuiyi flashed a hundred miles back—but when she turned, the bridge hung behind her. Fang Han stepped off it like a descending war-god.
"That bridge… it locks onto my essence! Distance means nothing!"
Her eyes hardened.
The Canghai Divine Pearl flew from her brow, shifting through countless mudras before becoming a regal seal—the same imprint Taihuang Tian once used to battle an ancient Demon Lord beneath the stars.
A strike that had once shaken the universe.
Fang Han's fist met the divine seal.
Hum.
His mind rang as though struck by a million hammers. His Golden Core dimmed. The Canghai Divine Pearl was blasted back into Yan Shuiyi's body. She, too, tumbled through the air, face paling slightly.
Neither gained advantage.
Fang Han's mana scattered, Golden Core light flickering—
—and that was the moment the sky changed.
High above, from a concealed tear in space, a sword burst forth.
A killing stroke.
Silent.
Perfect.
Lethal.
Its sharpness rivaled Hua Tiandu's Panwu Divine Sword.
An assassin's strike.
Behind the swordlight, Fang Han caught the faint silhouette of a woman in green—mysterious, graceful, deadly.
At that instant he understood everything.
"Longevity Candidate List—Rank One.
Brahma Qingying.
The First Thief of the Forty Great Thieves."
And she had come to assassinate him.