Shi Hao swept his gaze over each of these individuals, confirming that none were ordinary. Their blood energy surged like rivers and seas, concealed within their bodies, making it difficult to gauge their true depths at a glance.
Clearly, there were no weaklings here—each was a supreme powerhouse in their own right.
At the very least, they were the strongest in their respective regions, with boundless future achievements. Most would likely become terrifying overlords, ruling over vast territories in the future.
“Had enough of staring? If you don’t want to die, leave now. If you’re eager to lose your life, take another step forward,” a man enveloped in violet mist, cradling a sacred sword, spoke indifferently as he leaned against the Silver Grind Mountain.
Shi Hao ignored him, carefully sensing his surroundings. He confirmed that only eight powerhouses were present, with no other experts lying in ambush.
“Since he refuses to leave, let’s send him on his way!” a golden-horned expert said coldly.
“Wait.” A white lion suddenly spoke up, its eyes gleaming as it looked at Shi Hao. “Brother Daoist, would you consider joining our Divine Temple? Your aura is extraordinary—undoubtedly a peerless genius of this generation. Why not form an alliance with us?”
The lion was majestic, still in its beast form, its platinum fur glowing, especially its mane, which bristled with power, making it look like a mythic king of all beings.
The others frowned, displeased that it was trying to recruit Shi Hao right in front of them.
“Is your Divine Temple that impressive? What benefits would joining bring me?” Shi Hao asked.
The onlookers exchanged glances. Had he never even heard of the Divine Temple? It was an ancient sect on par with the Immortal Palace, a force so mighty it inspired awe.
The sect wasn’t massive, but neither was it small. It lacked grand training grounds, possessing only an ancient temple that had stood since time immemorial, housing three divine statues.
Legends claimed these were three indestructible effigies, representing the pinnacle of strength. Some said they were immortals from the Immortal Ancient Era, others believed they were destined-to-be-eternal divine ancestors from the Age of Divinity, and still others claimed they were future Heavenly Emperors, invincible across all realms.
Those who emerged from this sect were overwhelmingly powerful, wielding the “Nine Heavens Ten Earths Scripture,” hailed as one of the supreme inheritances—a peerless divine art!
“As for the Divine Temple’s reputation, you can ask anyone here. As for joining us, consider it an alliance. You won’t be restricted, and if you face danger, we will aid you. In other words, we watch each other’s backs,” the white lion explained.
“Hmm. Just one question—are you willing to help me seize the Eight Treasures Qilin?” Shi Hao asked.
“The Ancient Holy Son urgently needs the Eight Treasures Qilin. Brother Daoist, would you be willing to trade it? We’ll do our best to meet your demands,” the white lion said, its eyes flickering.
“Still talking about joining your Divine Temple? You’re already eyeing my Eight Treasures Qilin. If I really joined, would I have to hand over everything?” Shi Hao mocked.
“The Ancient Holy Son truly needs that treasure. If you’re willing to part with it, everything can be negotiated,” the white lion insisted.
At the mention of the Ancient Holy Son, the others tensed. That was a figure so powerful it sent shivers down their spines—a being who had entered the Immortal Ancient multiple times, emerging invincible each time.
The Ancient Holy Son wasn’t just surnamed “Ancient”—he was a freak from antiquity, born of the Divine Temple. He had comprehended the Nine Heavens Ten Earths Scripture to its limits, making him peerlessly strong.
In this era, the Divine Temple not only had an exceptional inheritor but also the Ancient Holy Son himself, both entering the Immortal Ancient together. Their combined strength was enough to inspire despair.
“I need it myself. I won’t give it away, nor will I trade it,” Shi Hao said flatly.
“That’s truly regrettable,” the white lion replied, its eyes no longer calm but blazing with light.
“Why waste words? Let’s each rely on our own skills to seize the Eight Treasures Qilin. For now, let’s send him on his way!” someone declared.
“Luo Dao and Lan Yichen’s elder brother? Your two brothers were pathetic, fleeing for their lives instead of fighting. Utterly boring,” a man with five-colored sparrow wings on his back sneered. He was a powerful Dragon-Sparrow.
“You!” Luo Dao snarled. “You ganged up on us, yet you dare speak?”
The golden-horned expert laughed coldly. “A defeated foe. Even in a one-on-one, you’re no match. I chased you until you pissed yourself, hiding like a turtle. Otherwise, I’d have wiped you all out long ago!”
Luo Dao glared, about to strike, but Shi Hao stopped him, stepping forward to handle it himself.
“I’ll take him!” The Dragon-Sparrow flapped its wings, soaring into the air. This was a formidable race, with several branches in the Upper Realm, each terrifyingly powerful. Though their ancient bloodline had thinned, their name alone spoke volumes.
“No, I’ll go first. Don’t fight me for this,” the golden-horned expert said, leaping down from a boulder with a thunderous impact that cracked the earth. His aura was wild and oppressive, like a golden mountain looming over them, suffocating in its intensity.
Behind them, Louis paled, stumbling back in fear.
“Tch, this kind of trash dares to come here?” the golden figure mocked before turning to Shi Hao. “Come, let me see how strong the owner of the Eight Treasures Qilin really is.”
“Fighting over who gets to kill me?” Shi Hao smirked faintly.
“Exactly. If you’re weak, not only will you lose the Eight Treasures Qilin, but your life as well!”
With a roar, the golden figure charged, his fist blazing with divine might, like a raging ocean crashing forward.
At that moment, everyone’s expressions changed—even Luo Dao gasped, shouting, “This is bad!”
Because this was no ordinary foe—this was the Golden Ox, a mutated powerhouse from the Primordial Savage Ox Clan, who had already reached the late-stage Divine Flame Realm. As a Primordial Descendant with such a high cultivation, he was absolutely terrifying.
Luo Dao had suffered at his hands before, and back then, the Golden Ox’s cultivation had been lower. Yet in just a few months, he had grown this strong.
Even Shi Hao was surprised. In just a year and a half, someone had already reached the late-stage Divine Flame Realm. The speed was alarming, serving as a warning to him.
“This guy has been cultivating for decades, suppressing his breakthroughs while studying the insights of past sages. Combined with the Immortal Ancient’s sacred medicines, he’s risen rapidly,” Luo Dao explained.
**Boom!**
The heavens seemed to collapse as the Golden Ox unleashed his full might, his fist striking down as if to shatter the sky itself.
Shi Hao met him head-on, his own fist surging like a mighty river, equally awe-inspiring.
The collision shook the void, the sheer force of their divine power causing golden light to flood the area like a forbidden divine sea.
Everyone was stunned. How many could rival such physical might?
When the golden light faded, Shi Hao stood unmoved, while the Golden Ox—renowned for his godlike strength—had been forced back over a dozen steps, his arm trembling, his palm split and bleeding.
“What?! The Golden Ox, a late-stage Divine Flame expert famed for his divine strength, lost in a physical clash?” The crowd was shocked.
The Golden Ox’s eyes blazed like torches as he stared at Shi Hao in disbelief. He had kicked an iron plate this time.
In truth, Shi Hao was also surprised. At his level, even a casual strike could slay Divine Flame experts, regardless of their higher cultivation. Yet this ox’s physique was so formidable that it had withstood his blow—where others would have had their arms obliterated.
“Not bad. You took my punch and only split your palm. Rare,” Shi Hao mused.
Hearing this, the Golden Ox nearly vomited blood. He prided himself on his physical prowess, yet one punch had nearly shattered his hand—and now he was being “praised” for it.
“You… die!” the Golden Ox roared, summoning a gleaming saber and slashing at Shi Hao.
“You’ve got skill. Whose follower are you? Why not join me instead?” Shi Hao said.
“He’s the second divine general of the Sword Valley alliance,” Luo Dao transmitted.
“Sword Valley… Gu Jianyun.” Shi Hao frowned, recalling the ancient freak he’d glimpsed in Sin Province.
“Die!” The Golden Ox swung his saber down with a furious cry.
Shi Hao responded in kind, his fingers curling into a dragon claw, radiating dazzling light—a technique he’d acquired in the Yuan Heaven Secret Realm.
**Clang!**
The claw strike carried not only Shi Hao’s physical power but also a formidable divine ability, erupting with radiant bone texts and a dragon’s phantom.
The impact was deafening, the light blinding.
“Die!” The Golden Ox was now berserk, battling Shi Hao fiercely.
“Good, he’s finally using his true strength,” the woman in crimson armor remarked. From the start, she had advocated killing Shi Hao.
Yet after dozens of exchanges, golden light flashed—**crack!** The saber shattered, and the Golden Ox was sent flying, coughing blood.
A ghastly dragon claw mark marred his chest, blood gushing, barely missing his heart.
“The Golden Ox lost. Even if some of us are stronger than him, none are several times stronger. Let’s join forces and finish this quickly,” the white lion said, its tone shifting from neutral to aggressive.
“I’ve had enough of this guy. Let’s kill him together and make the Eight Treasures Qilin truly ownerless,” the crimson-armored woman said, her beautiful face cold and mocking.
“Capture her for your bed,” the Divine Striking Stone suddenly blurted out, recalling Shi Hao’s past “ambitions.”
“She’s strong, but not an ancient freak. Not worth capturing—just kill her,” Shi Hao said.
“You…!” The woman’s eyes turned icy at being discussed so casually.
“Enough holding back. All eight of us attacking at once—this is a first,” the silver-haired man said.
The eight powerhouses moved as one, each a supreme expert from a major force.
“No matter who comes, they’ll die here. No miracles today,” someone muttered.
In a sense, this was true. No one could withstand eight supreme experts at once—at least, no one who had emerged so far.
Among them were four Primordial Descendants, and the other four could rival them. All were supreme powerhouses in their own right!
Luo Dao stepped forward to aid Shi Hao.
“One of us will handle him. The other seven will kill this beast,” the violet-mist-wreathed swordsman said.
“Luo Dao, step back. I’ll handle them alone,” Shi Hao said calmly.
“Who do you think you are, facing eight Primordial Descendant-level experts alone?” the Dragon-Sparrow sneered, its wings unleashing a storm of feathers like divine arrows.
**Boom!**
Shi Hao’s own wings erupted with violent energy, deflecting the feathers—some even impaling the Dragon-Sparrow itself.
“Die!”
Shi Hao’s roar shook Silver Grind Mountain as his blood energy surged. He was ready to battle eight supreme experts alone.
The crimson-armored woman struck, forming a flaming fan with her hands and sweeping it toward Shi Hao.
**Boom!**
Shi Hao’s fist shattered the fan, sending her flying with blood at her lips.
Now, Shi Hao’s hair whipped wildly, his eyes blazing like golden lamps. Holding nothing back, he fought like a demon king, testing the limits of his cultivation.
“Who are you?” the white lion demanded.
“Shi Hao!” he replied, striking again. His legs lashed out like dragon tails, sending the lion’s treasure weapon flying and nearly decapitating it, the gale-force wind shearing its mane and drawing blood.
“Kill him!”
The eight experts no longer held back, unleashing their full power.
“Shi Hao… that name sounds familiar,” one muttered mid-strike.
“Today, I reclaim my name!” Shi Hao roared, his blood energy erupting like a volcano, illuminating the entire mountain like a demon king unleashed.
In the Upper Realm, many knew of “Huang’s” might, but few knew he was Shi Hao. Today, he would make it known!
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