The Demon Monkey King stared blankly at the carnage before him.

  Blood soaked the oasis soil—his kin’s blood, splattered everywhere.

  The humans they had saved now wore twisted, frenzied faces as they butchered his people.

  For the first time, the Monkey King’s heart shattered.

  For the first time, he tasted the terror of human nature.

  He saw Yali—once kind-eyed, chatting amiably with him—now a monster.

  Yali slit a monkey’s throat, pried open its skull, and stuffed the bloodied four-sided crystal into his pack.

  Rage and hatred exploded within the Demon Monkey King.

  A piercing howl tore from his throat.

  Ignoring his wounds, he burst from the trees.

  Mounted on the Wolf King, wooden spear in hand, he charged the crowd.

  Thick demonic qi poured from his body.

  The battle drenched the ground in blood. Yali’s soldiers fell in droves. These monkeys looked frail, but each packed Qi Core power.

  Had they known how to wield it, Yali’s army would have been annihilated.

  Still, Yali’s haul was immense.

  Dozens of demon crystals—energy he could absorb, granting godlike strength.

  His eyes locked on the Monkey King’s crystal.

  Its demonic qi was overwhelming; the crystal had to be extraordinary.

  With it, Yali could crush that ancient eastern kingdom!

  So he led his forces straight for the king.

  Kill the leader, and the troop becomes livestock for slaughter.

  “Why?!”

  The Monkey King roared, carving through foes despite his injuries.

  He bared sharp fangs at Yali. “I saved you! Gave you water, food—why betray us?!”

  Yali said nothing.

  Profit moves hearts.

  In these monkeys, he saw wealth. Power.

  To rise, one steps over corpses—human or monkey, it matters not.

  Yali raised a hand. Archers behind him drew longbows, arrows trained on the king.

  “Fire!”

  The Marton Kingdom was built on plunder. He’d conquered nations, become king of kings. This monkey realm would fall too.

  Monkeys dropped, screeching.

  The king finally understood.

  Tigers weren’t the oasis’s deadliest beasts. Wolves weren’t.

  The humans they rescued were.

  Boom!

  The king’s eyes blazed red. His mind-crystal shuddered, unleashing torrents of demonic qi.

  His scrawny frame swelled to three meters, muscles rippling like iron.

  Demonization!

  He bellowed like a primordial beast.

  One stomp cracked the earth.

  His spear whipped out, pinning an archer to the ground.

  Yali’s heart lurched.

  The colossal ape drained his will to fight.

  Demonic qi choked the air; his men couldn’t even draw blades.

  Only now did they grasp: this king rivaled the eastern gods who’d routed them.

  The Monkey King tore through ranks like paper.

  Marton phalanxes formed, advanced—and shattered like toys.

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  One punch per soldier, the ground exploding under his fists.

  He roared.

  Demonic qi blanketed the sky, shrouding the entire Demon Continent.

  “Humans deserve death!”

  Eight-sided crystals orbited his head, swirling with demonic fury.

  Yali stared, greed blazing.

  Four-sided crystals were treasures, but eight? No wonder the king was untouchable.

  Eight-sided equaled Golden Core.

  Even if he couldn’t yet wield its full might, slaughtering mortals was child’s play.

  The king thundered to the central pillar.

  Furious fists cracked its surface.

  Suddenly, the three-meter ape wrapped arms around it.

  Demonic qi surged.

  He uprooted the pillar.

  Rumble!

  The continent quaked.

  He swung it like a battering ram, crushing Marton lines.

  Countless soldiers vomited blood and died beneath it.

  Yali fled.

  Half his army lay dead.

  The oasis reeked of corpses—human and monkey.

  Wolves and beasts joined the fray under the king’s command.

  Another wave of Marton soldiers fell.

  Yali snapped out of his greed.

  He couldn’t touch the king—not yet.

  Thirty four-sided crystals were enough. Dying here made them worthless.

  “Retreat!”

  He vaulted onto his horse and bellowed.

  The routed army bolted into the desert.

  The king roared.

  Think you can leave?

  He hurled the pillar.

  It arced like a falling sky-tree, shadow swallowing the fleeing troops.

  Sand erupted; hundreds were pulverized.

  Yali clutched his crystals and vanished into the dunes.

  The king’s demonization faded.

  He collapsed, coughing blood.

  Crawling to a fallen monkey, he cradled the body, staring at the empty skull.

  Tears carved through the blood on his face.

  He threw back his head and howled.

  “From this day forward!”

  “Demons and humans—eternal enemies!”

  Humans were insatiable greed incarnate.

  Blood debt unpaid, war without end!

  His roar summoned demonic qi from the heavens, veiling the continent.

  Even desert winds carried its biting chill.

  ...

  Beiluo, Lake Center Island.

  Lu tapped the Phoenix Feather armguard.

  The moment Kong Nanfei formed his Golden Core, Lu felt it.

  Surprised, but not shocked. Golden Core suited Kong best.

  Righteous qi offered little body tempering; Heavenly Lock would have been brutal.

  “Golden Cores are emerging too slowly on Five Phoenix Continent.”

  Lu frowned.

  Compared to Tianyuan, it lagged. There, Golden Core was mere disciple level.

  “Time to rebuild secret realms. Give them opportunities. Accelerate cultivation.”

  Constructing realms to nurture geniuses was solid.

  Originally, with the world source born, Lu thought prodigies could breakthrough naturally.

  Too optimistic.

  From Nie Changqing’s Heavenly Lock to now, only Kong had reached Golden Core.

  Too slow.

  Mind sinking into the preaching platform, Lu began crafting a secret realm.

  ...

  Meanwhile, in the imperial capital, undercurrents swirled.

  After the Black Dragon Gang swallowed the North Tiger Gang, it became the underground emperor—now the Black Dragon Cult.

  Purple Gold Palace.

  Luo Mingsang read the secret report, brows knitting.

  “Black Dragon remnants of Great Zhou. Unified the underworld. Plotting restoration…”

  She exhaled, rose gracefully, maids trailing.

  Outside, an Xiang Family guard stood silently.

  “Has King Xiang returned?”

  She asked.

  He hesitated, then shook his head.

  Her eyes dimmed. She gazed at the moon and sighed.

  ...

  Three days—neither long nor short.

  They passed in a blink.

  Martial Emperor City hummed as usual. Disciples collected resources, cultivated.

  But many sensed the shift.

  Wind One Tower’s human list genius felt it.

  Infant Transformation guardians had vanished—quietly dispatched somewhere.

  Infant Transformation was the city’s true might, its deterrent.

  Now gone. And City Lord Du Longyang too.

  A storm brewed.

  Outside the city, on the ridge.

  Before the Bodhisattva Temple.

  Blizzard raged, three days of snow blanketing the earth.

  Yet a terrifying aura now permeated the air.

  Inside the temple, Mo Tianyu and Nie Changqing barely breathed.

  Nie’s Second Stage Heavenly Lock, nearly ten bones tempered, recognized the power outside.

  Du Longyang, Master Yuanshang, the Empress, Tianxu, Absolute Blade…

  World-class peak experts.

  Seeing them, Nie’s heart clenched. The plan was launching.

  That audacious plan.

  Immortal slaughter.

  Immortals existed—yet these madmen would kill them.

  Nie inhaled deeply.

  He and Mo Tianyu were out of their depth. Stay put.

  Ding Jiudeng, now Yuanshang’s disciple, was tucked inside too.

  Nie eyed the boy curiously—fellow countryman, a pleasant surprise.

  Ding greeted them excitedly at first, then froze, enthusiasm fading into blank stares.

  Outside.

  Five apex powers took positions.

  Down the ridge, Martial Emperor City’s Infant Transformations sat cross-legged, hands forming seals, array taking shape.

  “Ni Chunqiu, prepare!”

  Tianxu, Ye Shoudao, Du Longyang, and Yuanshang stood at cardinal points, ten li from the Empress.

  She sat before the temple doors.

  Crimson robes, golden ornaments, regal and radiant—like a blood-red rose blooming in snow.

  Their spiritual voice transmission fluttered her lashes. She opened her eyes.

  Pale neck arched, she gazed at the snowy sky.

  Silence, save falling flakes.

  Her red lips curved. It begins.

  Today, she’d see what awaited beyond tribulation and ascension.

  She rose.

  Waist-length hair danced in the wind.

  Eyes on the heavens, she whistled sharply.

  The temple shuddered.

  Peerless aura erupted skyward, a sword piercing clouds.

  Boom!

  The firmament cracked, ripples spreading.

  Her presence boiled over.

  Step by step, she ascended, robes billowing, hair flying—peerless beauty, unmatched grace.

  Today, the Empress faced thunder tribulation!

  Rumble!

  Black clouds rolled in, winds whipping her garments tight, tracing exquisite curves.

  It began!

  At the four directions, the guardians’ eyes sharpened.

  They sealed their auras completely, like corpses.

  While the Empress soared to meet the storm.

  Blinding lightning tore the dark, daylight flashing.

  The temple quaked, on the verge of collapse.

  Nie, Mo, and the others watched in awe.

  “A woman of such stunning splendor… makes me itch to divine her fate.”

  Mo Tianyu clutched three copper coins.

  Nie glanced at him. “Then divine.”

  “Divine their plan’s success.”

  “What plan?”

  Mo asked curiously.

  Nie hesitated, but it had begun. No point hiding.

  “Immortal Slaughter Plan.”

  “They aim to kill the immortals above the heavens.”

  Nie said, breathing deep.

  Even slow-witted Ding Jiudeng gasped.

  Mo nearly dropped his coins.

  “Insane… slaughter immortals?”

  “Immortals aren’t that easy to kill!”

  Mo exclaimed.

  Nie nodded.

  “Madness… the world’s gone mad.”

  Mo muttered.

  But excitement gleamed in his eyes.

  He gripped the coins. The vortex above spun wildly, funneling into them, glowing gold.

  He flung them into the tortoise shell; they clinked inside.

  His face paled instantly.

  “Old Nie! You tricked me! Young Master Lu’s in on the immortal slaughter?!”

  “My divination can’t touch Young Master Lu!”

  Mo cursed.

  Then—spurt!

  He vomited blood.

  The shell cracked and shattered.