A Golden Core.
A Golden Core forged from ninety divine abilities—an inner sun exploding with the fury of the heavens.
Under Fang Han's unleashed mana—fused with the vast, burning essence of the Immortal Realm—he descended upon the world like a god holding the sun in his palm. In this state, he could obliterate nearly any demonic existence; anyone below the Longevity Realm would be annihilated instantly. Even experts like Fan Qingying or Yan Shuiyi, without a Dao artifact guarding them, would be forced to flee or risk serious injury.
And the mysterious seven God-Kings… had actually dared to ambush him.
They had delivered themselves—straight to their deaths. Killing them would earn him seven fruits of divine ability, along with their hoards of treasures. When he visited Linglong Blessed Land for the birthday celebration… he could arrive as a true magnate.
Another Abyss Gate erupted open, spewing torrents of demonic mist. Any fiend—whether common demon or a Demon King—touched by this abyssal miasma instantly lost all ability to move. Fang Han's Great Devouring Art swept them up and funneled them straight into the internal space of the Eightfold Pagoda.
The Pagoda had already developed its own internal realm—capable of housing enormous numbers of demons.
According to the Heavenly Dragon Codex, once the Eightfold Pagoda was complete, it was meant to house countless living beings. The chimes of morning bells and evening drums would tame them, binding their faith, generating endless devotion. Over generations, their wish-power would temper the Pagoda into an immortal weapon.
In its fully realized form, the Codex stated, the Pagoda should contain three thousand micro-worlds, each with 840 million living beings praying for ten thousand years. Their collected wish-power would fuse with its structure and elevate it into a true celestial artifact.
Such a feat was far beyond Fang Han.
But he could throw the army of demons and Demon Kings into it. Even that alone would raise the Pagoda's might dramatically.
For ordinary cultivators, subduing demons was a nightmare.
But Fang Han held Yellow Springs Holy Water, Abyss Gates, Great Salvation Light, and the sacred Morning Bell and Evening Drum. With these Buddhist and underworld forces combined, purifying fiends into loyal devotees was almost effortless.
In a flash, more than one million demons and two hundred Demon Kings were pulled into the Pagoda. The entire pagoda-shaped treasure burst from Fang Han's body, expanding a thousandfold, returning to the towering form of the original Blood Dragon Crystal mountain.
Atop the crimson mountain sat a massive Blood Buddha, hands joined in prayer atop a blood-red lotus. It chanted the Six-Syllable Mantra—the sound rolling like bellowing oxen, roaring tigers, whispering dragons—each vibration stirring the soul. The morning bells and evening drums thundered beneath it.
The demons dragged inside, soaked in abyssal qi, writhed in delirium. The chanting washed over them, cleansing mind and heart. Their violent instincts collapsed. One by one, they knelt before the Blood Buddha.
The Buddha bore Fang Han's features—merged with the visage of the Blood Night King, the spirit within the Pagoda.
Beneath him lay a restrained green sword, pinned under his weight. A slender maiden in green—its sword spirit—struggled and cursed, but it was useless.
It was the Emerald Blood Water Sword, both body and spirit bound.
If the Blood Night King truly subdued this Dao-grade sword and merged with it, his power—and the Pagoda's—would skyrocket. It would evolve into a mid-grade Dao artifact, surpassing even the ancient Buddha Lantern Parasol.
But subduing a Dao sword was no trivial matter. Even for Fang Han, refining it would take years. That was precisely why he tossed it into the Pagoda—letting the Blood Night King grind it down slowly.
The stronger the Blood Night King, the stronger the Pagoda.
A million demons and two hundred Demon Kings bowed in unison. Their collective belief surged forth like a tidal wave. Wish-power coiled around the Blood Night King, swelling his form. His crimson aura brightened, tinted with faint gold. A halo flickered behind his head. He squawked with ecstatic triumph.
The sword-spirit of the Emerald Blood Water Sword looked utterly broken.
Such powerful wish-force!
These demons… their devotion dwarfs the ones raised by the Buddha Lantern Parasol—tenfold! Why? Ah—it's the divine blood! They're mutated by god-blood essence. Their very lineage has been reforged. No wonder their faith burns so hot!
The stronger the being, the stronger the wish-power generated.
If one could somehow convert a Longevity Realm ancient giant into a devout believer, the wish-power would be unimaginable. But this was absurd—ancient giants possessed unshakable self-will. You could suppress them, but make them worship sincerely? Impossible.
Fang Han took this all in within a heartbeat.
He exhaled.
A breath of glittering gold—his newly cultivated Great Salvation Light—flowed into the Pagoda. The Five Elemental Spirit Glyphs flared. Bells and drums thundered like the heavens collapsing.
The remaining demons froze.
The Great Devouring Art surged with renewed power. In a single swelling contraction, it devoured another two million demons and one hundred Demon Kings, feeding them to the Pagoda.
Two or three breaths.
That was all it took.
In that brief instant, Fang Han shattered the formation, unleashed his Golden Core, swept the battlefield with the Devouring Art, swallowed 3.6 million demons and 360 Demon Kings, and converted them all.
His Golden Core—glowing like a mountain-sized meteor—descended upon the seven God-Kings.
After surviving his life-and-death battle with Fan Qingying and Yan Shuiyi, Fang Han had mastered the deeper meanings of Gold Core combat. His aura expanded into an enormous shell of pressure, enveloping the seven God-Kings—along with Prince Yi and the Thirteenth Prince.
None could escape.
"What—how!?"
Da He Master coughed divine blood. He'd fed his God-Blood Essence into the demons, strengthening the formation—but in an instant, the prey had become a dragon, exploding the trap, devouring their forces, and turning on them.
The ninety-ability Golden Core hovered over their heads. The crushing aura twisted, collapsed, expanded—warping space itself. They were being suffocated.
"Not good!"
Prince Yi reacted first, summoning the Invisible Sword Array. He grabbed the Thirteenth Prince and darted away as a streak of light.
But escape? Under Fang Han's Core?
Impossible.
A colossal dragon claw tore the air, gripping the fleeing distortion. An Abyss Gate opened wide and swallowed them whole.
Yan—the spirit of the Abyss—had taken action.
Fang Han couldn't kill imperial princes carelessly, but he could imprison them. He'd deal with the God-Kings first.
"This man… is too powerful!"
The seven God-Kings were shaken. Treasure-light erupted from their bodies—treasures of the divine clan, each one formidable.
Especially Da He and Da Xia—who raised their hands and summoned two spinning wheels.
One blazed like a sun—shedding cutting radiance that split the void.
One curved like a crescent moon—cold, silent, deadly.
Together, they sliced at Fang Han's Golden Core.
A sun-wheel.
A moon-wheel.
Two radiant blades, spinning with the fury of heavens, colliding with the Golden Core in a storm of sparks. The sky became a shower of blazing meteors, lighting the sea in violent bursts.
"Impressive… two Dao artifacts—and paired ones. Are these… the legendary Sun and Moon Spirit Wheels?"
Fang Han recognized them instantly.
Two mid-grade Dao artifacts, forged as a matched pair—Sun Spirit Wheel and Moon Spirit Wheel. Their combined force was said to be unstoppable.
Within each wheel, he glimpsed the artifact spirits—a radiant golden man clad in divine light… and a cold moonlit maiden with frost in her eyes.
Such weapons could suppress entire sects. Even a titan like the Constellation Gate possessed only one mid-grade Dao artifact, held by the Star-Extinction Heir—and that had been a Buddhist treasure he stumbled across by chance.
Yet these seven God-Kings casually wielded two.
The wealth of the divine clan was terrifying.
Fang Han had believed he could crush the seven God-Kings in one sweep.
But with the Sun and Moon Spirit Wheels in play…
The battle was no longer so certain.