The moment Fang Han presented Song Weiyi's golden core to Linglong Immortal Venerable, Taiyi Sect's answer came like a thunderclap from beyond the heavens.
Mixed-Heaven Daoist, the sect master of Taiyi, unleashed his supreme power, broadcasting his voice across countless worlds, issuing a Heaven-Mandated Kill Order:
One mid-grade Dao-Artifact, the Heaven-Rending Sword.
One immortal-grade Hunyuan Elixir.
Ten billion spirit pills.
All to whoever kills Fang Han.
It was a declaration of war in all but name.
Linglong Immortal Venerable had no intention of letting him flaunt his authority in her domain.
Her hand rose.
Between her fingers, five crystalline rays shot out—each one a thousand meters long, each one sharp enough to shear space and bend time. Around those rays, chanting echoed; miniature worlds spun into being only to dissolve again. In the void, thousands of heavenly dragons manifested—humanoid in bearing, solemn and devout. Their faith poured into Linglong like a tidal wave of pure willpower, each voice adding to an impossibly ancient, resonant mantra.
It was as if she commanded an entire race of celestial dragons, all praying solely for her.
With a hum that shook the firmament, the rolling clouds of Mixed-Heaven Daoist's apocalyptic calamity tore apart as though made of smoke.
Linglong's crystalline rays unfurled, transforming into countless draconic forms that scattered through the sky. Their maws opened, releasing lightning so pure it was almost transparent. Each thunderclap made the world shudder on its foundations.
Even ancient giants and heaven-tier experts felt as though they were standing on the edge of cosmic annihilation.
Mixed-Heaven Daoist and Linglong Immortal Venerable were fighting.
"Ten Thousand Dragons Refine the World!"
Mixed-Heaven Daoist's voice came from the void, tinged with rare astonishment. Linglong had dissolved his doomsday calamity instantly—and with a technique of legend.
It was said that when ten thousand true dragons formed a great array, they could refine an entire world into nothingness. The ancient dragon clan had performed this feat more than once.
Yet Linglong was wielding this mythical art alone.
Her power… can't be measured by stars, or worlds. She's beyond the scale of ordinary cultivation.
A cold snort echoed.
"So you do recognize it—'Ten Thousand Dragons Refine the World.' In the age before ages, when the Gate of Eternity first opened in the Immortal Realm, three thousand primordial Daos flowed out, each birthing countless divine arts. Every thirty-three supreme arts can condense into a Great Dao. Our draconic refinement technique is one such Dao, formed from the dragons' thirty-three supreme arts.
"You haven't touched that realm. No wonder speaking to you feels like speaking to livestock. Go back—fetch Taihuang Tian, Taixu Tian, and Tailong Tian. Only then will I bother fighting seriously."
Her fingers flicked.
Space unfolded like a painted scroll. At its furthest edge, a miniature world appeared—spanning one hundred and eight thousand miles, complete with mountains, forests, cities, rivers, living beings. A fully functioning realm, no different from a small country.
At its center stood a titan-like figure: eyes blazing like lightning, breath stirring winds and storms. The master and creator of that world.
Mixed-Heaven Daoist's true domain.
"So you've reached the seventh stage of longevity and forged a Hunyuan World of your own. No wonder you dared show yourself today." Linglong's voice was calm. "Then I shall refine your world with Ten Thousand Dragons Refine the World."
The sky tore open as she reached out.
Thousands of crystalline dragons surged forth, latching onto Mixed-Heaven's world from every angle, lightning roaring from their jaws as dragonfire surged to burn the world down to its core.
Mixed-Heaven Daoist's voice was steady but strained.
"Linglong… you live up to your reputation. A peerless genius of Taiyi Sect. In two years, at the Immortal Dao Assembly, I'll return the courtesy. For now—I'll withdraw."
His Hunyuan World shuddered, then shrank a thousandfold, becoming a grain of dust. In the next instant, it shot into the endless void, slipping through layers of folded space. Without mastery of spatial law, no one could pursue him—not in a thousand years or ten thousand.
Linglong Immortal Venerable rose.
Space and time trembled in layers, ripples spreading through past and future alike. Countless temporal streams reversed direction at once.
Her voice rang out, vast and solemn:
"When I attain Eternal Life—
May all worlds, all living beings,
enter the Immortal Realm.
May time flow like water,
and nothing be lost."
A boom.
At the end of a distant timeline, something froze.
Mixed-Heaven Daoist's grain-sized world reappeared, struggling violently as if caught in a cosmic net.
"Doomsday descends—worlds collapse—let all realms return to the Primordial Chaos!"
Mixed-Heaven Daoist roared from within his world, unleashing force that shattered the temporal freeze.
But Linglong didn't relent.
"When I attain Eternal Life—
Let all beings across all heavens, across countless ages,
who even whisper my name
gain liberation and boundless freedom!"
A golden torrent of vow-power descended—vast as the sea of stars—pouring into the sky, crushing down upon Mixed-Heaven's world like ten thousand burning suns.
"The Primordial Vow… the Forty-Eight Great Wish Arts!"
Mixed-Heaven Daoist's voice trembled. Cracks webbed across his Hunyuan World. He had recognized the truth.
Linglong was wielding an art beyond supreme divine abilities—
a Great Dao born of forty-eight perfected arts united as one.
She ignored him entirely.
"When I attain Eternal Life—
all time, past and future,
all beings vast as particles of dust,
who think of me even once—
shall attain eternal life.
If not—
then I shall never attain it!"
Her vows resounded across creation.
Fang Han could no longer see anything—not the battle, not the dragons, not even the mountain beneath his feet. His mind was filled only with her voice—words so vast they shook his soul.
He wasn't the only one.
Countless giants—demonic, immortal, ancient—wavered where they stood, awe rising in their hearts. Even their souls seemed to bow.
Somewhere nearby, Water Mirror Master of Crystal Cave and Six-Path Wanderer of the Six-Path Alliance alone remained unmoved—barely. Their companions were already sweating, resisting the wave of divine devotion.
"Terrifying… the Forty-Eight Great Wish Arts. The Primordial Vow. The legendary art of Hongmeng Daoist, mentor to the ancient Three Sovereigns." Six-Path Wanderer whispered. "If she aimed this at us, even we would kneel."
Water Mirror Master nodded grimly. "Mixed-Heaven can barely withstand it. Linglong wants to break him entirely—to make Taiyi's sect master kneel as her believer. That's beyond audacity… it's madness."
"Taihuang Tian will intervene. He must." Six-Path said. "Both Mixed-Heaven and Linglong were once his cherished disciples."
As if in answer, a titanic hand tore through space, seizing the golden vow-light and Mixed-Heaven's world in one palm.
The world shrank—vanished.
The hand dissolved.
Two drops of blood fell from the collapsing void, landing in Linglong's palm.
Everything went silent.
Every ripple in space, time, and destiny simply… vanished.