Above an endless expanse of deep yellow desert, an ancient bronze war chariot, pulled by two massive silver eagles, glided low in the sky, shimmering with a faint azure glow.
At the center of the chariot, Han Li sat cross-legged with his eyes slightly closed, his skin faintly shimmering with a golden radiance.
Suddenly, his expression shifted slightly, and he raised an arm, sweeping it through the air before him.
Instantly, the space beneath the chariot rippled, and a green sword aura, over a dozen zhang long, materialized from the void and slashed fiercely downward.
In a flash, the colossal sword aura vanished like a phantom into the yellow sand below.
A deafening roar erupted from beneath the desert, and nearby sand erupted like an inverted waterfall.
Amid the swirling yellow dust, an ancient beast resembling a colossal silkworm, over a hundred zhang in length, emerged. However, its massive body only managed to sway in the air a few times before abruptly splitting into several segments and crashing down, spewing copious amounts of green blood.
The chariot did not pause for even a moment in the sky. With a few flickers, it soared past and continued speeding into the distance.
Han Li, seated within the chariot, never opened his eyes throughout the entire encounter. After lowering his arm, he silently resumed his cultivation.
Deep within an unnamed ocean, inside a grand palace’s secret chamber, a massive blood cocoon, nearly seven to eight zhang in diameter, hovered mid-air.
Countless blood threads sprayed from the cocoon, densely covering every corner of the chamber, leaving no space untouched.
The cocoon itself was translucent, almost semi-transparent. Through the dense web of blood threads, a shadowy mass could faintly be seen pulsating within, expanding and contracting irregularly. If one listened closely, a dull thumping sound could be heard at intervals, like the slow, powerful beat of a heart.
Above an unnamed massive canyon in the Fengyuan Continent, an ethereal woman in white robes and a hideous-looking black-robed man stood quietly in the air, surrounded by tens of thousands of alien beings.
These aliens had green, bloated skin, unnaturally long necks, and two razor-sharp forelimbs resembling giant blades—almost like towering, bipedal mantises.
Below the canyon, the ground was already littered with the corpses of countless aliens, their green limbs scattered everywhere, creating a gruesome sight.
Though the black-robed man bore no bloodstains, his aura was thick with killing intent. His cheeks were covered in black scales the size of copper coins, and his exposed arms were pitch-black, his hands transformed into ten sharp, dagger-like blades, giving him a truly fearsome appearance.
The white-robed woman, in contrast, stood atop a giant pink flower, her demeanor calm and composed.
Despite being vastly outnumbered, the surrounding aliens hesitated, their expressions a mix of fury and terror.
“I’ll say this one last time—hand over the Sacred Crystal Flower of your Green-Limbed Tribe, and I’ll leave immediately. Otherwise, I’ll exterminate your entire race before taking it myself,” the white-robed woman said casually, as if discussing something trivial.
“The Sacred Flower is the treasure that ensures our survival! How could we surrender it to outsiders? Even if you possess immense power, this demand is absolutely unacceptable!” retorted a slightly darker-skinned alien at the forefront, glaring hatefully at the black-robed man who had just slaughtered their kin.
He was a mid-stage Body Integration cultivator, one of the strongest among the ten thousand aliens. Behind him stood three early-stage Body Integration beings, their eyes burning with rage.
During the earlier battle, they and their elder had been immobilized by the white-robed woman’s overwhelming aura, forced to watch helplessly as the black-robed man massacred their people.
Despite their desperate resistance, nearly a thousand of their kin had been slaughtered in mere moments. The sheer brutality and power of their foes left them both enraged and chilled to the bone.
They knew their tribe faced an unprecedented calamity—one misstep, and extinction loomed. Against a Great Ascension cultivator, resistance was futile.
“I don’t care. Either surrender the flower, or your tribe vanishes from the Spirit Realm today. There is no third option,” the woman replied coldly.
“To think a Great Ascension cultivator would bully a small, reclusive tribe like ours—stealing our treasures is beneath your dignity!” the elder spat bitterly.
“Save your words. Your Sacred Flower may be useful to me, and I *will* have it. Don’t delude yourself. I’ll count to ten. If the flower isn’t handed over, I’ll act personally,” the woman said with a faint smile, her words sending a chill through the aliens.
“One.”
“Two.”
Her voice was melodious, but to the aliens, each number was like a death knell.
“Enough! We surrender the Sacred Crystal Flower!” the elder finally relented, his face ashen.
“Wise choice. Once I have it, I’ll lose all interest in your tribe,” the woman replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a light laugh.
What followed was simple.
Under the elder’s orders, an alien hurried back to their forbidden valley.
Half an hour later, when the alien returned with a jade-green wooden box, his face twisted with grief, the woman didn’t even open it. A brief scan with her divine sense made her expression darken. The black-robed man’s ugly face twisted further, his aura turning vicious.
The aliens tensed, fearing betrayal—but the woman merely uttered a single word: “Go.”
Her pink flower flashed, and she vanished in a streak of red light. The black-robed man followed as a plume of black smoke.
Within moments, both were gone.
The aliens exhaled in relief. Though they’d lost their sacred treasure, at least they’d avoided annihilation.
Under the elder’s orders, they descended to collect their dead.
Meanwhile, the woman and the black-robed man were already tens of thousands of miles away.
“Great Ancestor, was that not the flower you sought?” the man finally asked.
“No. It merely resembles it. Though rare, it’s useless to me,” the woman replied calmly.
“So we wasted our time,” he muttered, disappointed.
“Patience. We’ve scoured several major tribes in this region. Next, we move to the adjacent territory. The Fengyuan Continent may not be larger than the Thunderstorm Continent, but its races are far more numerous. This will take time,” she said indifferently.
“As you command,” the man replied, suppressing a sigh.
Eighty years later, above a sapphire sea, a group of Winged Tribesmen flapped their wings desperately.
Young and mostly at the Core Formation stage, with a few at Nascent Soul, they flew for their lives, casting terrified glances backward.
On the horizon, a silver line had appeared, surging toward them with a thunderous roar.
Panicked, they spat blood essence, activated life-saving secrets, or unleashed treasures and talismans. Their speed surged—but the silver line kept pace.
After hours of flight, exhaustion slowed them. The silver line closed in, revealing itself as an endless hurricane, stretching beyond sight, filled with lightning and hail.
With the storm barely a hundred miles behind, despair gripped them. They’d encountered the infamous “Silver Tide”—a death sentence.
Yet they refused to surrender. At their leader’s shout, they halted, forming a strange formation and brandishing towering ritual banners.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage