"God-kings… actual God-kings? What are they doing here? Are the gods trying to infiltrate the Great Xuan Empire?"
Fang Han's heartbeat spiked. "The God Race is a treasure vault, sure—but God-kings are a different matter. They're incredibly hard to kill. And if a God-king is here, a God-emperor might be lurking nearby. God-lords match the Heaven-Human Realm. God-kings? They're above Golden Core. Ordinary Golden Core cultivators I could slaughter en masse… but these things are unfathomable."
The moment he sensed them, his blood boiled like scalding water.
In the God Race hierarchy:
A God-lord = Divine Ability 5th–6th layer.A God-king = Divine Ability 7th layer (Golden Core) up to 8th, 9th, even 10th layer.A God-emperor = Longevity Realm—a timeless sovereign.
These God-kings looked plain on the surface, indistinguishable from normal mid-tier loose cultivators like Xiaoyue Realperson or Xianji Realperson. Any ordinary divination technique would see them as third- or fifth-layer Divine Ability practitioners.
But the World Tree between Fang Han's brows vibrated madly.
They were all God-kings.
Two of them in particular radiated a cold, inhuman despair in their eyes—no telling how deep their cultivation went. Their god-force was nothing like mortal qi—it was denser, darker, infinitely more lethal.
Prince Yi greeted them with easy arrogance—he had no idea what they truly were. With Fang Han as backing, he barely respected anyone short of a Longevity titan.
"Fourth Brother, what brings you here?" Prince Yi asked.
"You're going to celebrate Linglong Immortal Venerable's birthday, aren't you? Naturally I'll come. Having company on the road is safer." The Fourth Prince—Prince Yi—smiled thinly. "And this cultivator you recruited… the Killing Scholar. I heard he wrested a treasure from Hua Tiandu on Panlong Star. With his help, your prospects will only rise."
His gaze slid over Fang Han, faint amusement hiding something darker.
A black-clad figure behind him stepped forward—eyes pale, expressionless, dissecting Fang Han like a corpse on a table.
"So you're the one who stole a treasure from Hua Tiandu?" The voice was colder than frost.
"And you are?" Fang Han flicked his fan lazily. "Another loose cultivator His Highness dug up somewhere?"
"This is Mr. Daxia of the Dishe Mountain Sect," Prince Zhan explained. "A well-known overseas cultivator."
"Dishe Mountain?" Fang Han smiled faintly. "Never heard of it."
"A small overseas sect—hardly worth mentioning," Daxia said slowly. His eyes locked onto Fang Han. "Killing Scholar… what a domineering name. Stealing lives from others. But if someone steals yours, wouldn't that be poetic?"
"Is that so?" Fang Han snapped his fan shut with a crisp clack. "I've taken countless lives. Never once has anyone taken mine. I'd love to see who has the ability."
"Well said." Another black-clad man stepped forward. "I'm Mr. Dahe of Dishe Mountain."
Fang Han sneered internally.
Daxia. Dahe.
These two were the strongest of the seven God-kings—their leaders. Their true power was unknowable without direct combat, and gods never traveled without terrifying treasures.
Even ordinary God-lords carried dozens of artifacts inside their bodies. What horrors did these God-kings have stored?
But Fang Han couldn't strike—not yet.
One by one, Prince Zhan introduced the remaining five.
Seven in total—seven God-kings.
The World Tree surged wildly, eager to erupt and devour them all. Fang Han forced it down. If he slipped for even a breath, a divine catastrophe would erupt on the spot.
The World Tree was the natural nemesis of the God Race. The ancient gods had severed it only because they feared it.
But until Fang Han understood their true intentions, he would not move recklessly.
These God-kings, however, already saw him as prey—cold, pitiless eyes weighing him like livestock ready for slaughter.
"So they're planning to kill me," Fang Han thought. "Probably to win the Fourth Prince's trust—kill me as a gift, then replace me."
He smiled inwardly.
Killing me? Let's see who kills whom.
He flicked his fan. "If everyone's ready, we should leave. Linglong Immortal Venerable's birthday is in less than ten days. Delay isn't an option."
"Agreed," the Fourth Prince said, eyes lingering on Fang Han. "Let's go."
They ascended, streaking across the sky—two factions merging into a single divine rainbow heading toward the distant ocean.
The sea sprawled endlessly below—blue sky, white clouds, giant whales breathing fountains into the air. Countless demons and ancient sects hid beneath the waves. Even the Thunder Emperor's Mansion created by Fang Qingxue lay somewhere beneath the horizon.
Fang Han wondered how her domain was faring.
Crossing the sea wasn't easy—ordinary Heaven-Human Realm cultivators couldn't fly across in one stretch. They needed islands to rest on. But these people were wealthy and powerful—burning spirit crystals like water.
Mid-flight, Mr. Daxia suddenly spoke, his voice dripping poison.
"Killing Scholar… your cultivation is hidden well. None of us can see through you. Are you Golden Core? Eighth layer? Ninth? Tenth? And that treasure masking your aura—interesting. What is it exactly?"
A shock jolted Fang Han's heart.
He hadn't expected Daxia to sense the reincarnation technique of the Yellow Springs Diagram.
"I have many treasures that conceal qi," Fang Han replied calmly. "Which one do you mean?"
"Heh…"
Daxia's laugh was eerie. His eyes flashed—
"DEMONS AHEAD! All of you, be careful!"
Prince Yi startled.
A heartbeat later, the sea ahead darkened.
A storm of wails rose. The ocean turned iron-gray.
Endless shadowy shapes twisted out of the sky—ten-thousand-strong swarms of Heaven-Devils marching in unity.
Every ten thousand devils was led by a Devil King—a second-layer Divine Ability powerhouse wielding a halberd and clad in black armor.
Hundreds of such kings.
Millions of devils.
Their qi merged into a colossal formation spanning a thousand miles.
A literal demonic army descending from the void.
Even Fang Han, who had crossed the Heavenly Devil Battlefield, who had seen ten-thousand-devil tides and Blood-Flesh Swamp storms—felt a shiver. This was beyond anything he'd witnessed.
"Why are there so many devils over the sea? Unless…"
His mind snapped to the seven God-kings.
"The God Race once created Heaven-Devils as war puppets. They rebelled, yes—but gods still know how to make and control them."
He swept his divine sense toward the seven.
Mr. Daxia's expression shifted—he retreated from Fang Han in a single movement.
"This is a devil army formation. Scatter! Break out separately—we'll regroup later!"
The seven God-kings, Fourth Prince, and Prince Zhan all shot off in different directions.
A heartbeat later, the demonic tsunami crashed onto Fang Han.
The first to charge was a Devil King with a halberd and a roar that shook the sea.
Insignificant. Fang Han could kill a hundred of him with a flick.
But there were hundreds of such kings. Each leading ten thousand devils, weaving their qi together—forming a titanic formation covering a thousand-mile radius.
Fang Han raised his guard, then flicked a finger.
A pinpoint of starlight shot forward—Star-Sand Thunder Art.
A single grain of star-sand contained a divine thunderbolt.
The Devil King sneered, lifting his halberd—
The star-sand shattered into millions of thunderous sparks.
Explosions tore through the devil horde—
But the formation surged, swallowing the thunder like a bottomless swamp.
"A proper devil formation." Fang Han's expression sharpened. Even a fraction of his power should have annihilated thousands, yet nothing died.
Above the formation, on a cloud platform, stood Mr. Daxia, Mr. Dahe, the five other God-kings, the Fourth Prince, and Prince Zhan—watching.
Prince Zhan whispered, uneasy:
"Mr. Daxia… you really believe this formation can trap the Killing Scholar?"