“Here already?” Zhou Chuqian asked, hearing a sound.
“Yes.” Zhou Yao was unusually respectful today, dressed neatly in martial arts attire.
“Sit here.” Zhou Chuqian beckoned, asking Zhou Yao to sit in front of him. “Yao’er, our Zhou family has few members, only you as the heir. I have always regarded you as my only relative, my only son.”
“Uncle.” Zhou Yao’s nose felt sore.
“Now is a crucial moment for our Zhou family, and also for the Ten Sword Stream. Originally, I planned to leave with the Star Circus to avoid this disaster.
Who would have thought you’d be swayed by that enchantress, insisting on challenging others.”
“It was my mistake, I was too impulsive.”
Zhou Chuqian wearily waved his hand, “But you must also consider, what the enchantress wants is for Yang Hao to lose everything, yet your life is not in her consideration. Even if she leaves traps, Yang Hao might kill you first. Then, the enchantress might benefit, but our Zhou family would be extinct, wouldn’t it?”
Zhou Yao was startled, realizing indeed it was the case. With his own strength, not to mention fighting Yang Hao, even if Qing Lingshan came, he would still face death. In the end, even if Yang Hao was constrained by the enchantress’s strategy, he might still kill him out of resentment, leaving Zhou Yao with nothing.
“What should I do?” Zhou Yao panicked, even standing up and knocking over several candles.
Zhou Chuqian sighed. This nephew was truly not up to the task, always impulsive. But the Zhou clan had practically no one left; if not relying on him, who else could he rely on?
Zhou Chuqian looked up at the sky again, at his own constellation, Xuanyuan Star, which was emitting strange light.
“Now, we can only elevate your strength to the maximum, even surpassing Yang Hao, to possibly survive and even win.”
“Surpass Yang Hao?” Zhou Yao was stunned. Yang Hao’s current strength was unfathomable, said to be even a match for the elders. Zhou Yao’s own martial arts skills were mediocre to begin with.
After being severely injured by Yang Hao, he had regressed even further, unable to recover to his former level.
“Here?” Zhou Chuanqian asked upon hearing movement.
“Yes.” Zhou Yao was unusually respectful today, dressed neatly in his martial arts attire.
“Sit.” Zhou Chuanqian beckoned, signaling Zhou Yao to sit before him. “Yao, our Zhou family is dwindling, and you are the only heir. I’ve always regarded you as my sole kin, my only son.”
“Uncle…” Zhou Yao’s nose stung with emotion.
“Now is the critical moment for our Zhou family—and for the Ten Sword Sects. I had planned to take the Starlight Circus far away to avoid this calamity. But who would’ve thought you’d be swayed by that enchantress and insist on provoking a fight?”
“It was my fault, Uncle. I was too impulsive.”
“Even so,” Zhou Chuanqian waved his hand wearily, “you must realize that what the enchantress wants is for Yang Hao to lose everything. Your life means nothing to her. Even if she set a trap, Yang Hao could still kill you first. If that happens, she might benefit, but wouldn’t our Zhou family be left without an heir?”
Zhou Yao was startled. He hadn’t considered this. With his own strength, he stood no chance against Yang Hao—even if Kan Ling intervened, it would still be a death sentence. Even if Yang Hao fell into the enchantress’s scheme, his rage might still lead him to kill. Zhou Yao could end up losing both his life and his cause.
“What should I do?” Panicked, Zhou Yao stood abruptly, knocking over several candles.
Zhou Chuanqian sighed. His nephew was far from reliable, too quick to lose composure. But the Zhou family had no one else left. If not him, then who?
Zhou Chuanqian looked up at the sky, where his guiding star, Gu Xuan, emitted an eerie glow.
“Now, the only way is to elevate your strength to its peak—even surpassing Yang Hao. Only then can you survive, let alone win.”
“Surpass Yang Hao?” Zhou Yao was dumbfounded. Yang Hao’s current power was unfathomable, rumored to even surpass the elders of the council. Zhou Yao’s own skills were mediocre at best, and after being severely injured by Yang Hao, he had regressed further, never recovering his former strength.
“Our Zhou family possesses a secret art—one even the council doesn’t know. It was privately passed down by the Supreme One to honor our ancestors.” Zhou Chuanqian revealed the Starlight Circus’s final secret. “With this art, even the weakest swordsman can instantly become a top-tier master.”
“Really?!” Zhou Yao’s joy was indescribable. Yet he couldn’t understand why his uncle had waited until now to share such a boon.
Zhou Chuanqian smiled bitterly. “This art is called ‘Shifting Stars into the Palace.’ It merges the power of two stars—and two people—into one.”
“That means…” Zhou Yao suddenly felt uneasy.
“For example, I can transfer my Gu Xuan power into your Ziwei Palace. Once complete, you’ll instantly possess the strength of a Saint Realm peak master.”
“And what about you, Uncle?” Zhou Yao asked.
“‘Shifting Stars into the Palace’ is a forbidden art—a heinous one. Once activated, the caster dies instantly, with no chance of reincarnation.” Zhou Chuanqian sighed deeply.
Zhou Yao froze. He stood silently for a long moment, then looked up at the sky. He could recognize his own Ziwei star, now teetering on the brink, while the foreign star representing Yang Hao threatened to breach the palace at any moment. Thinking of the impending duel and his position in the empire, Zhou Yao suddenly knelt before Zhou Chuanqian. “Uncle, please grant me this.”
Zhou Chuanqian remained silent, his smile bitter.
“Please, Uncle!” Zhou Yao gritted his teeth. “If I succeed, I’ll honor you as my father. I’ll elevate the Zhou family’s glory, ensuring we never lose to Yang Hao.”
“You’re the last of our bloodline. Of course, I’ll grant you this.” Zhou Chuanqian’s face was expressionless. “Once you inherit my power, you’ll reach Saint Realm peak. If you conceal this strength and feign weakness, Yang Hao won’t suspect a thing. Then, with a single strike, you can kill him—no matter how skilled he is.”
“Yes!” Zhou Yao’s eyes gleamed as he stared at his elderly uncle, like a wolf eyeing its prey.
That night, the circus tent glowed brilliantly—a radiance both life-like and deathly, carrying boundless sorrow and ambition, flowing slowly like the tears on the faces of the circus members outside.
That night, for the first time in imperial history, Saint Realm power was transferred. A new Saint Realm master was born in the shadows.
Princess Xianlan appeared on the Elder Mountain late at night. As a key member of the royal family, her ability to freely enter the mountain at such a critical time was telling.
But Xianlan wasn’t there to see the elders. Instead, she entered a secluded room to visit her “dear sister.”
“Ziyan!” Xianlan called warmly as she entered.
Sure enough, Ling Ziyan sat inside, having wept by the window until Xianlan arrived.
Ling Ziyan wore a pink maternity dress, her belly swollen from long pregnancy. It was ironic—this spy meticulously trained by the council now carried Yang Hao’s child and wept for him daily.
Even without makeup, Ling Ziyan possessed an innate charm, a natural grace that outshone even Xianlan’s beauty.
“Xianlan!” Ling Ziyan brightened upon seeing the princess, eagerly grasping her hands.
“Sit, sit.” Xianlan chided gently. “If you disturb the baby, I’ll be held responsible.”
“This little thing… I wish I could just get rid of him.” Ling Ziyan raised a hand as if to strike her belly, but it landed softly in a caress.
“Master Rongli truly favors you. Despite pressure from the other elders, he’s ensured you and the baby remain unharmed.” Xianlan sounded envious.
“Ah…” Ling Ziyan sighed, sorrow creeping back into her brows.
“I’ve seen Yang Hao,” Xianlan suddenly whispered conspiratorially.
“Really?!” Ling Ziyan exclaimed, then lowered her voice. “How is he? I’ve had no news here. Did you tell him about me? Did he say he’d come?”
Her rapid-fire questions left Xianlan at a loss. With a sigh, she shook her head sadly.
“What?” Ling Ziyan pressed. “You didn’t tell him?”
“I did.” Xianlan’s eyes flickered with an unreadable resentment. “But Yang Hao ignored it. He’s now the Western Overlord, commanding over a dozen sword regiments. In his heart, there’s no room for you.”
Ling Ziyan trembled, her expression crumbling. Her hands, resting on her belly, shook slightly. No longer the老板娘 of Lingfei Starsea, she was now Yang Hao’s woman, carrying his child. Confined by the elders, cut off from the outside world, her only visitor was Xianlan. Her greatest hope was for Yang Hao to come and take her away.
From Xianlan, she’d heard of Yang Hao’s arrival in the capital, his rise in rank, the growing influence of the Dan Ding Sect. She’d believed his arrival was imminent—just around the corner.
Xianlan seemed to think her words weren’t cruel enough and added, “From the looks of it, Yang Hao and Kan Ling are living happily. He’s probably forgotten you. Even if someone mentioned you, he wouldn’t care.”
Tears streamed down Ling Ziyan’s face like rain on pear blossoms.
Xianlan panicked, fetching a handkerchief to wipe them. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Xianlan…” Ling Ziyan sobbed. “What should I do? I want to see him—I really do.”
A smile tugged at Xianlan’s lips. “You just want to see him? I can arrange it. In a few days, Yang Hao and the Ten Sword Sects will have a gathering. I’ll take you to see him from afar.”
“Really?!” Ling Ziyan’s tears turned to joy, but then worry returned. “The elders… they won’t let me go.”
“I’ll speak to them.” Xianlan played the good Samaritan. “But you must promise to listen to me. Just watch him from a distance—don’t provoke him.”
“I will, I will!” Ling Ziyan clasped her hands to her chest, hopeful. “I’ll obey you. Just seeing him—even a glimpse—is enough.”
Xianlan gently embraced her “dear sister.” Though their hearts pressed together, each beat to a different rhythm.
Days passed in surface calm and underlying turmoil.
The day of the duel arrived.
The sky was clear, the scorching sun baking the ground until it shimmered. The glare from the surrounding rocks made it hard to keep one’s eyes open.
The duel’s location, chosen by Princess Xianlan, was the former territory of the Beastheart Sword Regiment’s arena. After Yang Hao annihilated the regiment, the place had fallen into ruin. Now, cleaned up, it made a perfect natural arena.
Encircled by mountains, even birds struggled to enter, while natural shelters at the base allowed spectators to watch safely.
Media ships darted across the sky. Today’s duel would be broadcast live to billions of planets across the universe, and the victor would undoubtedly become its biggest star.
At the valley’s center stood a massive silver-white dueling platform, forged entirely of alloy, now searing hot under the sun—enough to blister bare feet.
Four swords, each radiating divine light, were planted on one side of the platform. These were the last remaining divine swords of the Ten Sword Sects:
– The Star Sword
– The Healing Sword
– The Illusion Sword
– The Heart Sword
Bestowed by the Supreme One, these were the sects’ treasures. Now, after Yang Hao’s relentless seizures, only four remained. Today’s duel would decide their fate—and, in truth, the fate of the Ten Sword Sects.
If they couldn’t defend even one sword, the sects would vanish from the empire. Even the council wouldn’t let them survive.
So today wasn’t just Zhou Yao versus Yang Hao—it was the Ten Sword Sects’ fight for survival.
The sects arrived first. With their fate at stake, all remaining factions (except the reclusive Dusk Sect) gathered, surrounding Zhou Yao, who wore an arrogant, domineering expression.
The observing nobles weren’t impressed. Those in the know understood Zhou Yao’s reputation: skilled with women but mostly a showy fighter, competent only among nobles and clueless on the battlefield.
Across the galaxy, betting pools overwhelmingly favored Yang Hao, with many wagering he’d win within five moves. The odds were so skewed that bookmakers closed bets on Yang Hao days ago, leaving only wagers on Zhou Yao—a fool’s bet.
“The Snow Lion Regiment is here!” Gasps rose among the nobles.
Indeed, a squadron of snow lions descended from the sky, their riders clad in white armor, men gallant and women elegant, each resembling a copy of Kan Ling. They took position beside the platform, awaiting Kan Ling’s arrival.
She came soon, accompanying Yang Hao.
The Dan Ding Sect’s delegation was small—just key members, the Hao Sword Regiment, and the Dragonhead Regiment. Outnumbered by the Ten Sword Sects, Yang Hao’s presence was undiminished. Cheers erupted as soon as he appeared.
“Undying War God! Undying War God! Undying War God!”
Yang Hao smiled, raising a hand in acknowledgment. Kan Ling leaned against him, radiating happiness—she’d always done as she pleased, heedless of others.
The nobles, ever opportunistic, now swayed with the prevailing wind. “I always knew they were meant to be,” one mused. “Look at them—perfectly matched.”
“Indeed. When Yang Hao first came to Earth, I sensed it.”
“What is Zhou Yao, anyway? Challenging the Undying War God? He’s just courting death.”
“Worse—he’s dragging the Ten Sword Sects down with him. Rumor has it Zhou Chuanqian died days ago, driven to despair by his nephew. Such a wastrel is a disgrace to the empire.”
Zhou Yao’s face darkened with each word. He hadn’t come to endure gossip, especially not with Kan Ling present. Hearing this would only humiliate him further.
In a fit of rage, Zhou Yao forgot his uncle’s counsel to endure and conceal his strength. With a roar, he leaped onto the platform, unleashing his full power.
“Really!” Zhou Yao’s joy was indescribable. Yet he couldn’t understand why his uncle had only revealed this now.
Zhou Chuqian smiled bitterly, “This great technique is called ‘Shifting Stars into the Palace,’ merging the power of two stars into one, and transforming the strength of two people into one.”
“That’s…,” Zhou Yao suddenly felt uneasy.
“For example, I can transfer my Xuanyuan power into your Ziwēi Palace. Upon success, you will immediately possess the strength of a peak Saint Domain.”
“What about you, Uncle?” Zhou Yao asked.
“Shifting Stars into the Palace is a forbidden art, a great forbidden art. Once used, I will die immediately and be eternally denied reincarnation,” Zhou Chuqian sighed deeply.
Zhou Yao was stunned. He stood motionless for a while, then looked up at the sky. He naturally recognized his own Ziwēi Star, now in grave danger, with Yang Hao’s foreign star ready to breach his palace at any moment. Thinking of the impending duel and his position in the empire, Zhou Yao suddenly knelt before Zhou Chuqian: “Please, Uncle, grant me this.”
Zhou Chuqian remained silent, a bitter smile on his face.
“Please, Uncle, grant me this!” Zhou Yao gritted his teeth. “After this, I will honor you as my father. I will make the Zhou family flourish and never lose to Yang Hao.”
“You are the only blood of the Zhou family; of course, I will grant you this,” Zhou Chuqian had already become expressionless. “After obtaining my power, you will also become a peak Saint Domain. As long as you deliberately hold back and do not reveal this strength, Yang Hao will not be wary of you. Then, with one decisive strike, even if Yang Hao has many skills, he will only die by your hand.”
“Yes!” Zhou Yao’s eyes gleamed as he stared at his aging uncle, like a wolf eyeing its prey.
On this destined restless night, the light in the circus tent shone all night long, like the brilliance of life and death, slowly flowing with countless sorrows and aspirations.
Just like the tears on the faces of the circus members outside the tent, slowly flowing as well.
On this night, for the first time in the empire’s history, a Saint Domain power transfer occurred, and a new Saint Domain expert was silently born in the darkness.
Princess Xianlan appeared on Elder Mountain in the dead of night. As an important member of the royal family, her ability to freely enter and exit Elder Mountain during such a critical moment was quite intriguing.
However, Princess Xianlan’s visit to Elder Mountain was not to see the elders, but to enter a secluded room to visit her “good sister.”
“Ziyan!” Xianlan affectionately called out as she entered.
Indeed, Ling Ziyan was sitting in the room, weeping by the window before the princess’s arrival.
Ling Ziyan wore a pink maternity dress, her belly significantly swollen, indicating her advanced pregnancy. This spy, carefully cultivated by the Senate, was carrying Yang Hao’s child and shedding tears for him daily—an ironic twist indeed.
Without any makeup, Ling Ziyan might not be as dazzling as Xianlan, but her eyes still carried a unique charm, an innate grace.
“Xianlan!” At the sight of the princess, Ling Ziyan was overjoyed, quickly rising to grasp the other’s hand.
“Hurry and sit down,” Xianlan chided gently, “If you upset the baby’s peace, I won’t be able to shoulder the responsibility.”
“This little one, I wish I could just get rid of him,” Ling Ziyan pretended to hit her belly but ended up gently caressing it instead.
“Master Rongli has been very considerate of you, protecting you and the baby despite pressure from the other elders,” Xianlan said enviously.
“Ahh…” Ling Ziyan sighed, her sadness returning.
“I’ve actually seen Yang Hao,” Xianlan suddenly leaned in conspiratorially.
“Really!” Ling Ziyan exclaimed in delight, then deliberately lowered her voice. “How has he been lately? I haven’t received a single piece of news from him here. Did you tell him about me? Has he said anything about coming to see me?”
This barrage of questions left Xianlan unsure whether to answer or not. She sighed softly, shaking her head in sorrow.
“Why?” Ling Ziyan asked. “Didn’t you tell him?”
“I did,” Xianlan’s gaze flickered with a trace of unfathomable hatred. “But Yang Hao completely ignored it. He’s doing great now, the Western Governor, holding more than a dozen sword groups captive. In his heart, he probably doesn’t even think of you anymore.”
Ling Ziyan trembled, her expression collapsing. Her hands, which had been gently stroking her belly, began to slightly shake. The current Ling Ziyan was no longer the boss of the Flying Star Sea; she was Yang Hao’s woman, carrying his child. She had been kept in isolation by the elders, unable to receive any news from outside, and the only person she could see was Princess Xianlan. Ling Ziyan’s greatest hope was that Yang Hao would come and take her away.
From Xianlan, Ling Ziyan had heard of Yang Hao’s arrival in the capital and his gradual rise in rank, with the Dan Ding Sect growing ever larger. Ling Ziyan believed that the day Yang Hao would come to take her away was near, just around the corner.
Xianlan seemed to feel her words weren’t cruel enough, so she added another sentence:
“From Yang Hao’s demeanor, he and Qing Lingshan seem very happy together. He probably forgot about you long ago. Even if someone mentions you, he won’t care.”
Ling Ziyan’s tears immediately fell, like a pear blossom in the rain.
Xianlan panicked, pulling out her handkerchief to wipe the tears: “Don’t cry, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I shouldn’t have told you in the first place.”
“Xianlan…” Ling Ziyan, with tears in her voice, asked, “What should I do? What should I do? I want to see him, I really want to see him.”
A smile appeared on Princess Xianlan’s lips: “You just want to see him, right? I have a way. In a few days, there’s a gathering between Yang Hao and the Ten Sword Stream. I’ll take you out to see him from afar.”
“Really!” Ling Ziyan stopped crying and smiled, but she was worried, “The elders probably won’t let me out.”
“I’ll talk to the elders,” Xianlan put on a benevolent expression. “But you have to promise me to listen to everything I say. Just take a distant look at him, don’t provoke his anger.”
“I know, I know!” Ling Ziyan covered her chest with both hands, full of anticipation. “I’ll definitely listen to you. As long as I can see him, just a glimpse will be enough.” Xianlan gently embraced her good sister. The two women’s hearts were close, but clearly, they each had different rhythms.
In the apparent calm on the surface and the undercurrents below, several days passed.
Finally, the day of the duel arrived.
The sky was clear, and the scorching sun had already made the ground slightly hot to the touch. The surrounding mountain rocks reflected the sunlight, making it difficult for people to open their eyes.
This duel location was chosen by Princess Xianlan. Originally the territory of the Beast Heart Sword Arena, it had become desolate since the Beast Heart Sword Group was wiped out by Yang Hao in one fell swoop. Now, after some tidying up, it had become a natural venue for duels.
Surrounded by towering mountains, almost no birds could enter freely, while at the foot of the mountains, there were some natural shelters where onlookers could watch the duel.
In the sky, media spacecraft were shuttling back and forth. Today’s duel would be broadcast live to billions of planets across the universe. The winner of today’s match would undoubtedly become the biggest star in the universe.
In the exact center of the valley stood a massive dueling platform, silver-white in color, entirely made of alloy. It had already been scorched by the sun; stepping on it barefoot would surely burn off skin.
Four swords, glowing with the light of artifacts, were embedded on one side of the dueling platform. These were the last four divine swords remaining in the hands of the Ten Sword Stream.
The Star Sword!
The Healing Sword!
The Illusion-Destroying Sword!
The Multitude’s Heart Sword!
“Here?” Zhou Chuanqian asked upon hearing movement.
“Yes.” Zhou Yao was unusually respectful today, dressed neatly in his martial arts attire.
“Sit.” Zhou Chuanqian beckoned for Zhou Yao to sit before him. “Yao’er, our Zhou family has few descendants—you are the only one. I’ve always regarded you as my sole kin, my only son.”
“Uncle…” Zhou Yao’s nose stung with emotion.
“Now is the critical moment for our Zhou family—and for the Ten Sword Sects. I had planned to take the Starlight Circus far away to avoid this calamity. But who would’ve thought you’d be swayed by that enchantress and insist on provoking a fight?”
“It was my fault. I was too impulsive.”
“What’s done is done.” Zhou Chuanqian waved his hand wearily. “But think about it—what that enchantress wants is for Yang Hao to lose everything. Your life isn’t part of her calculations. Even if she’s set a trap, Yang Hao could still kill you first. If that happens, she might benefit, but wouldn’t our Zhou family be left without an heir?”
Zhou Yao was startled. He hadn’t considered that. With his own strength, he stood no chance against Yang Hao—even if Kan Ling showed up, it’d still be a death sentence. Even if Yang Hao fell into the enchantress’s scheme, his fury might still drive him to kill, leaving Zhou Yao with nothing.
“What should I do?” Panicked, Zhou Yao stood up, knocking over several candles.
Zhou Chuanqian sighed. His nephew was too rash, too unreliable. But the Zhou family had no one else left. If not him, who else could he rely on?
Zhou Chuanqian looked up at the sky, where his celestial star, Gu Xuan, glowed ominously.
“Now, the only way is to elevate your strength to its peak—even surpass Yang Hao. Only then can you survive, or even win.”
“Surpass Yang Hao?” Zhou Yao was dumbfounded. Yang Hao’s current power was unfathomable—even the elders of the Senate were no match for him. Zhou Yao’s own skills were mediocre at best, and after being severely injured by Yang Hao, he had regressed further, never recovering his former strength.
“Our Zhou family possesses a secret art—one even the Senate doesn’t have. It was privately passed down by the Supreme Sovereign to honor our ancestors.” Zhou Chuanqian revealed the Starlight Circus’s final secret. “With this art, even the weakest swordsman can instantly become a top-tier master.”
“Really?!” Zhou Yao’s joy was indescribable. But he couldn’t understand why his uncle had waited until now to share this.
Zhou Chuanqian smiled bitterly. “This art is called ‘Shifting Stars into the Palace.’ It merges the power of two celestial stars—and the strength of two people—into one.”
“That means…” Zhou Yao suddenly felt uneasy.
“For example, I can transfer my Gu Xuan power into your Ziwei Palace. Once successful, you’ll immediately possess the strength of a Saint Realm peak master.”
“What about you, Uncle?” Zhou Yao asked.
“‘Shifting Stars into the Palace’ is a forbidden art—an abomination. Once activated, the caster dies instantly, with no chance of reincarnation.” Zhou Chuanqian sighed deeply.
Zhou Yao froze. He stood silently for a long moment, then looked up at the sky. He could recognize his own Ziwei Star, now teetering on the brink of collapse, while the foreign star representing Yang Hao threatened to invade at any moment. Thinking of the impending duel and his position in the empire, Zhou Yao suddenly knelt before Zhou Chuanqian.
“Please, Uncle, grant me this.”
Zhou Chuanqian remained silent, his smile bitter.
“Please!” Zhou Yao gritted his teeth. “If I succeed, I’ll honor you as my father. I’ll restore the Zhou family’s glory—I won’t lose to Yang Hao.”
“You’re the last of our bloodline. Of course, I’ll grant your wish.” Zhou Chuanqian’s face was expressionless. “Once you inherit my power, you’ll reach Saint Realm peak. If you restrain yourself and hide your strength, Yang Hao won’t suspect a thing. Then, with a single strike, you can kill him—no matter how skilled he is.”
“Yes!” Zhou Yao’s eyes gleamed as he stared at his aging uncle like a wolf eyeing its prey.
That night, the Starlight Circus’s tent shimmered with an eerie glow—a radiance that blurred the line between life and death, carrying both sorrow and ambition as it flowed silently.
Outside the tent, tears streamed down the faces of the circus members.
That night, for the first time in the empire’s history, Saint Realm power was transferred. A new Saint Realm master was born in the darkness.
Princess Xianlan appeared on the Senate’s mountain late that night. As a key member of the royal family, her ability to come and go freely during such a critical moment was telling.
But Xianlan wasn’t there to see the elders. Instead, she entered a secluded room to visit her “dear sister.”
“Ziyan!” Xianlan called warmly as she entered.
Sure enough, Ling Ziyan was sitting inside, having wept by the window until Xianlan arrived.
Ling Ziyan wore a pink maternity dress, her belly swollen from long months of pregnancy. It was ironic—this spy, meticulously trained by the Senate, now carried Yang Hao’s child and wept for him daily.
Even without makeup, Ling Ziyan possessed a natural allure that Xianlan lacked—an innate charm in her eyes.
“Xianlan!” Ling Ziyan brightened at the sight of the princess, eagerly grabbing her hands.
“Sit down!” Xianlan scolded playfully. “If you disturb the baby, I’ll be held responsible.”
“This little thing… I wish I could just get rid of it.” Ling Ziyan raised a hand as if to strike her belly, but her touch softened into a gentle caress.
“Master Rongdi has been kind to you, shielding you and the baby from the other elders’ pressure.” Xianlan sounded envious.
“Ah…” Ling Ziyan sighed, sorrow creeping back into her brows.
“I’ve seen Yang Hao,” Xianlan suddenly whispered conspiratorially.
“Really?!” Ling Ziyan gasped, then lowered her voice. “How is he? I haven’t heard anything here. Did you tell him about me? Did he say he’d come?”
Her rapid-fire questions left Xianlan at a loss. With a sigh, she shook her head regretfully.
“What?” Ling Ziyan pressed. “You didn’t tell him?”
“I did.” Xianlan’s eyes flickered with an unreadable resentment. “But Yang Hao ignored it. He’s now the Western Overlord, commanding over a dozen sword regiments. In his heart, there’s no room for you.”
Ling Ziyan trembled, her expression crumbling. Her hands, resting on her belly, shook slightly. This wasn’t the Ling Ziyan of the past—the proprietress of the Flying Star Tavern. She was now Yang Hao’s woman, carrying his child. Confined by the elders, cut off from the outside world, her only visitor was Xianlan. Her greatest hope was that Yang Hao would come for her.
From Xianlan, she’d heard of Yang Hao’s arrival in the capital, his rise in rank, the growing influence of the Alchemy Sect. She’d believed the day he’d come for her was near—just around the corner.
Xianlan, as if her words weren’t cruel enough, added:
“From the looks of it, Yang Hao and Kan Ling are living happily. He’s probably forgotten you. Even if someone mentioned you, he wouldn’t care.”
Tears streamed down Ling Ziyan’s face like rain on pear blossoms.
Xianlan flustered, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe them. “Don’t cry! Why cry? I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Xianlan…” Ling Ziyan sobbed. “What should I do? I want to see him… I really do.”
A smile tugged at Xianlan’s lips. “You just want to see him? I have a way. In a few days, Yang Hao and the Ten Sword Sects will meet. I’ll take you to see him—from afar.”
“Really?” Ling Ziyan’s tears turned to joy, but worry lingered. “The elders won’t let me go.”
“I’ll talk to them.” Xianlan played the good sister. “But you must promise to listen to me. Just watch him from a distance—don’t provoke him.”
“I will! I will!” Ling Ziyan clasped her hands to her chest, hopeful. “I’ll obey. Just seeing him once is enough.”
Xianlan gently embraced her “dear sister.” Their hearts pressed together, yet each beat to a different rhythm.
Days passed in surface calm and hidden undercurrents.
Then, the day of the duel arrived.
The sky was clear, the scorching sun baking the ground. The glare from the surrounding rocks made it hard to keep one’s eyes open.
The duel’s location, chosen by Princess Xianlan, was the former Beastheart Sword Sect’s arena. After Yang Hao annihilated the sect, the place had fallen into ruin. Now, cleaned up, it made a perfect natural battleground.
Encircled by mountains, even birds struggled to enter. At the foot of the hills were natural shelters for spectators.
Media ships darted overhead. The duel would be broadcast live to billions of planets across the universe. The victor would undoubtedly become the galaxy’s biggest star.
At the valley’s center stood a massive silver-white dueling platform, forged from alloy and now searing hot under the sun—hot enough to blister bare feet.
On one side of the platform stood four swords, each radiating divine light—the last remaining sacred blades of the Ten Sword Sects:
The Star Sword.
The Healing Sword.
The Illusion Sword.
The Heart Sword.
Bestowed by the Supreme Sovereign, these were the sects’ treasures. Now, after Yang Hao’s relentless plundering, only four remained. Today’s duel would decide their fate—and, in truth, the fate of the Ten Sword Sects.
If they couldn’t defend even one sword, the sects would vanish from the empire. Even the Senate wouldn’t let them survive.
So today wasn’t just Zhou Yao versus Yang Hao—it was the Ten Sword Sects’ fight for survival.
The sects arrived first. With their future at stake, all remaining factions (except the reclusive Dusk Sect) gathered, surrounding Zhou Yao, who stood arrogantly in their midst.
The watching nobles weren’t impressed. Those in the know understood Zhou Yao’s reputation: skilled with women but weak in combat—a showy fighter who’d crumble in real battle.
Across the galaxy, betting odds overwhelmingly favored Yang Hao, with many predicting he’d win within five moves. The imbalance was so severe that bookmakers had closed bets on Yang Hao days ago. Now, the only wager left was on Zhou Yao—a fool’s bet.
“The Snow Lion Regiment is here!” Gasps rose from the crowd.
A squadron of snow lions descended from the sky, their riders clad in white armor—men heroic, women elegant, each resembling a copy of Kan Ling. They took position beside the platform, awaiting her arrival.
Kan Ling soon appeared, accompanying Yang Hao.
The Alchemy Sect’s delegation was small—just key members, the Hao Sword Regiment, and the Dragonhead Regiment. They were outnumbered by the Ten Sword Sects, but Yang Hao’s presence was undiminished. Cheers erupted as he took his place.
“Undying War God! Undying War God! Undying War God!”
Yang Hao smiled, raising a hand in acknowledgment. Kan Ling leaned against him, radiating happiness—she’d always done as she pleased, heedless of others.
The nobles, ever fickle, now fawned over Yang Hao’s rising star:
“I always knew they were meant to be. Look how perfect they are together.”
“Exactly! I had the same feeling when Yang Hao first came to Earth.”
“What is Zhou Yao, daring to challenge the Undying War God? He’s just asking to die.”
“Not just himself—he’s dragging the Ten Sword Sects down with him. Rumor has it Zhou Chuanqian died from anger over his nephew’s actions. Such a disgrace to the empire.”
Zhou Yao’s face darkened with each insult. He hadn’t come to endure mockery—especially not with Kan Ling present, hearing every word.
In a fit of rage, he forgot his uncle’s advice to endure and conceal his strength. With a roar, he leaped onto the platform, unleashing his full power.
If the Ten Sword Stream could not even protect a single divine sword, their faction would be erased from the empire. Even the Senate would not allow them to continue existing.
Therefore, today’s duel between Zhou Yao and Yang Hao was not only a battle between them but also a life-and-death struggle for the Ten Sword Stream.
The members of the Ten Sword Stream arrived at the battlefield first. Since today would determine the fate of the Ten Sword Stream, all the remaining sword factions, except for the usually reclusive Mingse, were present. Zhou Yao was surrounded by the crowd, his expression proud and arrogant.
The noble spectators were not particularly impressed by Zhou Yao. Those who knew the details understood that although Zhou Yao was good at courting women, most of his martial arts skills were superficial. Even if he had some skills, they were only enough to show off among nobles. In a real battle, he probably wouldn’t even know how he died.
Therefore, in a series of gambling pools across the Milky Way, bets were overwhelmingly placed on Yang Hao’s victory, with many betting that Yang Hao would finish the fight within five moves. This gambling pool was too one-sided, making it difficult to balance even with adjustments. Thus, major casinos had closed the betting pools for Yang Hao’s win several days ago, and now the only available bet was for Zhou Yao’s win.
But only a fool would do that.
“The Snow Night Star Lions have arrived!” A few exclamations came from the noble crowd.
Indeed, a squad of Snow Night Star Lions gracefully descended from the sky, their warriors clad in white armor, the men dashing and the women elegant, each resembling a copy of Qing Lingshan. Upon arrival, this group did not approach the Ten Sword Stream but stood on one side of the dueling platform, waiting for Qing Lingshan’s arrival.
Qing Lingshan soon arrived, naturally accompanied by Yang Hao.
The Dan Ding Sect did not bring many people today, aside from several core generals, they only brought the Hao Sword Group and the Dragon Head Group. In terms of numbers, they were far fewer than the Ten Sword Stream, but Yang Hao’s presence was not weak. As soon as he stood firm, cheers erupted from all around.
“Immortal War God! Immortal War God! Immortal War God!!”
Yang Hao smiled, raising his hand to greet the crowd in all directions. Qing Lingshan leaned affectionately beside him, her expression filled with happiness. This woman always did as she pleased, regardless of others’ opinions.
However, the nobles were indeed somewhat fawning. Now that Yang Hao’s power had grown, they all nodded knowingly, assuming the air of prophets: “I always knew they were a match made in heaven. Look at how well-matched they are in looks and talent, how fitting they are.”
“That’s right, that’s right. When Yang Hao first came to Earth, I had this premonition.”
“What is Zhou Yao anyway, daring to challenge the Immortal War God? He’s practically asking for death.”
“Not only is he seeking his own death, but he’s also dragging the Ten Sword Stream down with him. I heard that a few days ago, Zhou Chuqian was killed by his nephew’s temper. Such a playboy is truly a disgrace to the empire.”
Hearing the surrounding gossip, Zhou Yao’s face became increasingly grim. He had not come here to listen to idle chatter. Moreover, now that Qing Lingshan had arrived, letting her hear these words would only make him lose more face.
In a fit of rage, Zhou Yao forgot his uncle’s previous instructions about enduring humiliation and concealing his abilities. He roared and flew onto the dueling platform first, unleashing all his strength.
The radiance of the Sacred Domain first shimmered upon Zhou Yao’s body. It was stained with Zhou Chuanqian’s blood, a light brimming with the hopes of the entire Zhou family and the Celestial Circus. Guxuan and Ziwei merged in the sky, their combined power indeed formidable.
“Hah!” Zhou Yao roared, his star-force surging outward like waves, forcing the gathered noble spectators back a few steps. The Sacred Domain’s brilliance caused the four swords on the stage to tremble violently. Zhou Yao extended his hand, and the Star Sword flew swiftly into his palm from its sheath. “Yang Hao! Come and meet your end!” he bellowed furiously.
This scene caught everyone off guard, especially the noble onlookers. Even though they were arrogant, they were descendants of renowned generals and ministers, and they could all recognize the power of the Sacred Domain’s radiance.
It was the might of a peak-level Sacred Domain expert. And now it had appeared on Zhou Yao.
Could it mean… Zhou Yao had also reached the peak of the Sacred Domain?
The noble spectators were stunned. The image of Zhou Yao that had lingered in their minds was completely shattered. Just that elegant move alone was something they could never hope to match, no matter how hard they trained.
On the dueling platform, Zhou Yao’s Sacred Domain radiance continued to emanate endlessly. Under this brilliance, Yang Hao’s white cape and his dim figure seemed weak.
Finally, one noble suddenly snapped out of his trance and shouted, “Quick, place your bets!”
Others quickly realized the opportunity. With the duel not yet officially started, it was the perfect time to place their bets. The odds for betting on Yang Hao winning were not closed off. Those present seized the information asymmetry to increase their wagers on Zhou Yao, aiming to completely wipe out the bookmakers.
In an instant, thousands of nobles opened their mobile terminals and placed frantic bets. Gambling circuits across half the universe were shaken. Zhou Yao’s odds rapidly surged from 1 to 1000 to 1 to 1, eventually leveling with and even surpassing Yang Hao’s.
This situation stemmed entirely from the nobles’ general perception of Yang Hao.
Although Yang Hao had been hailed as the Immortal War God, it was more of an image thing. The nobles had no unified assessment of his actual strength. His most powerful battles had been concealed. For example, the Dragon-Imprisoning Formation and the Battle of Hidden Dragon Pavilion were both results of the emperor and the Senate’s conflict, details of which were naturally not disclosed to others.
Therefore, most people were unaware of Yang Hao’s true strength, assuming his highest level was merely breaking through the Sacred Domain, making him an ordinary sword saint. Seeing that Zhou Yao had reached the peak of the Sacred Domain, the nobles naturally bet on Zhou Yao.
The belief among the nobles was simple: the higher the power, the stronger the individual.
As Zhou Yao shouted and cursed on the dueling platform, the Ten Sword Style was also in action. Under the leadership of the Qilian cultivators, the Ten Sword Style surrounded the dueling platform, pushing the noble spectators to the outer circle. Clearly, they had ulterior motives, attempting to trap Yang Hao within their encirclement.
When Kan Ling arrived, the Snow Night Star Lion Group quickly approached. The leading members did not greet Kan Ling but coldly walked up to Yang Hao and said, “You’ve seen it yourself; Zhou Yao is now at the peak of the Sacred Domain.”
“Mm,” Yang Hao nodded.
“You’d better win,” said a member of the Snow Night Star Lion Group. “Our leader can only marry the strongest.”
Yang Hao smiled, exuding confidence and brilliance. He was now concealing his power, not revealing even a trace of his Sacred Domain strength, yet his confidence was enough to reassure everyone.
Kan Ling glared at her subordinates and helped Yang Hao adjust his collar, saying, “If possible, don’t kill him. Zhou Yao grew up with me.”
“We’ll see,” Yang Hao didn’t commit, lightly patting Kan Ling’s face.
In the next moment, Yang Hao had already appeared on the dueling platform. Facing the frenzied Zhou Yao, Yang Hao was surprised but not worried.
Because Yang Hao had already discerned that the peak-level Sacred Domain power within Zhou Yao’s body did not belong to him. It was dark, the opposite of light—the Guxuan force. Although it could be integrated into the Ziwei Palace through secret techniques, it remained a different power. Even if it could momentarily erupt, it would inevitably lead to backlash with the right trigger.
But Zhou Yao was unaware of how close he was to death, still roaring, “Yang Hao! Today is the day the Immortal War God meets his end. You will die today.”
Yang Hao sighed faintly, “Kan Ling pleaded for you. Leave your sword, leave the Milky Way, and I’ll spare your life.”
Zhou Yao swung his long sword, and the Sacred Domain’s radiance poured out without restraint, enveloping Yang Hao’s dim figure. Yet Yang Hao stood firm, like a giant rock against the current, unmoved.
Zhou Yao laughed bitterly, “Leave your sword, leave the women, and leave your life. I want it all, everything!!”
Yang Hao remained expressionless, but Shadow Moon already emanated a bloodthirsty glow.
Below the dueling platform, Kan Ling silently watched and sighed. She knew Zhou Yao had abandoned his last thread of hope, and a tragic fate awaited him. Although everyone viewed this duel as a reversal, Kan Ling still knew Yang Hao would not fail.
Because he was unbeatable.
Zhou Yao fully unleashed the Sacred Domain’s radiance and finally changed his approach. He used the Brilliant as Stars Sword technique again.
Undeniably, driven by the Star Sword, the Brilliant as Stars Sword was indeed formidable, proving that Zhou Yao’s previous failures were due to insufficient power.
Under the power of the Sacred Domain’s peak, the latent abilities of the Brilliant as Stars Sword were fully unleashed.
The sky turned pitch black, the sun disappeared from people’s sight, and a scene of countless stars filled the heavens, naturally arranged by the Star Force.
Zhou Yao also transformed. The man radiated a dark aura, and the Star Sword in his hand became the only shining object in the night sky.
Brilliant as Stars, magnificent and mysterious.
“Spring God! Shoulder! Injury Officer! Yin Devil! Heaven’s Wound!” Each time Zhou Yao called a name, a star on the celestial dome brightened and injected divine power into the sword.
When the five beams of light converged, Zhou Yao’s sword emitted an unprecedented brilliance, unleashing the ancient Star Force’s sword technique without reservation toward Yang Hao.
This move was indeed spectacular, dazzling to the extreme. If there were a contest for the world’s most beautiful and stunning sword technique, the Brilliant as Stars Sword would undoubtedly rank among the best.
So when Zhou Yao executed this sword technique so brilliantly, the surrounding crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Everyone believed Zhou Yao’s beautiful sword strike was enough to kill the Immortal War God, Yang Hao.
But they all forgot that this was not a beauty contest but a duel.
A duel meant life or death, not who had the prettier sword moves.
Therefore, Yang Hao did not move, not even flinching when Zhou Yao’s Brilliant as Stars Sword came hurtling toward him. He merely glanced at the sky.
This single glance already revealed the enormous, insurmountable gap between the two.
Suddenly, a flame appeared in the sky. Yang Hao didn’t even need to draw his sword, nor did he need to use any strength; the fire simply appeared out of nowhere.
This was the Fire Principle, one of the two profound techniques Yang Hao had mastered.
No one knew exactly how many profound techniques existed in the world, but undoubtedly, these techniques were the operational laws of certain forces left by the Creator. These were the laws the Creator used and followed to manipulate power. Those who mastered the Fire Principle could be considered gods controlling all fire.
The brilliant flames tore through Zhou Yao’s beautiful starry sky like burning an old newspaper. The bright sun emerged from behind the dark curtain, further enhancing Yang Hao’s strength.
After the stars were destroyed, the Brilliant as Stars Sword instantly lost its energy, becoming hollow and weak.
“Now,” Yang Hao gracefully spread his arms, “let me show you the true power of a real master.”
Before his voice faded, Shadow Moon had already shot out like a fire dragon, colliding with the Star Sword. Zhou Yao barely resisted and was knocked flying.
Then, a string of five fireballs accurately struck Zhou Yao’s body, causing the man to let out a piercing and humiliating scream.
Yang Hao had become increasingly adept at using the fireballs, summoning and dismissing them at will—a convenience even the ancient cultivator, Hun Yuanzi, couldn’t match in his prime.
The real tragedy was Zhou Yao. When he was still weak, he had once been severely injured by Yang Hao’s fireballs. Now, having reached the peak of the Sacred Domain, he believed himself invincible. He thought he could handle even the elders, let alone Yang Hao.
But when Yang Hao’s fireballs fell, those five massive fireballs struck his body. Zhou Yao couldn’t block or dodge, only watching helplessly as the fireballs exploded on his body.
The greatest harm to a person is not physical but the humiliation to the soul.
When Zhou Yao realized that before Yang Hao, he had always been like an unarmed ordinary person, the sense of shame was indescribable.
The explosion also sent the surrounding crowd reeling. The noble onlookers were nearly driven mad.
In their minds, Zhou Yao, already shining with the Sacred Domain’s radiance, was clearly unbeatable. If not the strongest in the universe, at least he would easily defeat anyone outside the Senate. Especially since Yang Hao didn’t seem that impressive.
But as soon as they clashed, the outcome was decided. Zhou Yao screamed in pain under the fireballs, unable to resist. His body was like a piece of iron, continuously scorched by flames.
“It’s really the War God!” one noble trembled and cried, “Yang Hao, he is invincible.”
Silent with fear, the others dared not even breathe, watching helplessly as everything unfolded on the dueling platform.
Zhou Yao did not die. The power of Zhou Chuanqian was not for nothing. A peak-level Sacred Domain expert would not be easily killed. When the fireballs ceased, Zhou Yao, smoking and charred, stood up again.
His once-lavish clothes were now tattered, and he no longer radiated any light, yet he stood unsteadily. However, a smile uglier than crying appeared on Zhou Yao’s face. He didn’t look like a loser but rather somewhat delighted, approaching Yang Hao with a bloodthirsty demeanor.
Yang Hao remained motionless. Now, he only needed to kill this arrogant fool in front of countless people.
But Zhou Yao whispered in a voice so weak only the two of them could hear, “From now on, you can only take hits, not strike back. You can only lose, never win.”
“Did you hit your head too hard?” Yang Hao coldly replied.
“Look to your left, look carefully,” Zhou Yao’s eyes gleamed with a sinister light. “Look, who is it?”
Yang Hao hesitated but still glanced to his left.
Just one glance, and he couldn’t look away.
Among the crowd stood a woman in a long crimson dress, deliberately dressed up, her figure so familiar. Yang Hao’s gaze fell on the woman’s bulging belly. Suddenly, a scream echoed in his heart, a violent scream, like a beast caught in a trap!
Ling Ziyun.
Yang Hao never expected to see Ling Ziyun here. He had never received any news about her. He only knew that after Rong Li captured Ling Ziyun, she was locked away and no one was allowed to see her.
Yang Hao assumed the Senate had already terminated his child and would never let Ling Ziyun appear before him again.
But the woman before him was indeed the former demoness, the same woman who had fought for the Judgment Sword for him and was willing to die.
The same woman who was carrying Yang Hao’s child, waiting desperately for him all this time.
Yang Hao was stunned, not because of Ling Ziyun’s sudden appearance, nor because of her bulging belly, nor because of her enduring beauty, but because of the woman’s deeply sorrowful eyes.
Such profound grief.
Ling Ziyun was indeed grieving. She gazed at Yang Hao on the dueling platform. This man was the father of her unborn child, the only man she had ever loved in her life.
In Ling Ziyun’s eyes, Yang Hao was completely different from before. He was more heroic, more domineering, almost like a god. In fact, Ling Ziyun was one of the people who had known Yang Hao the longest. She had almost watched him step by step become the Immortal War God today, and step by step fall in love with this man from an opposing faction.
To this day, she was almost unable to extricate herself.
Today, Xian Lan had tricked Ling Ziyun into meeting Yang Hao. Originally overjoyed, thinking she would finally see her beloved. But upon arriving, she discovered that Yang Hao was actually dueling for another woman.
It was a great sorrow, watching the one she loved duel for another woman, making Ling Ziyun almost break down in grief.
But on the dueling platform, Zhou Yao did not miss this opportunity.
He noticed Yang Hao’s distraction and immediately launched the Brilliant as Stars Sword. Although without the celestial dome’s support, it still erupted with irresistible power under the Sacred Domain’s force.
Chi chi chi chi!
Distracted, Yang Hao was pierced by the sword, seven wounds bursting open on his body, forming the pattern of the Big Dipper constellation.
Gasps of astonishment erupted from the audience and the Dan Ding Sect’s section.
Yang Hao, brought back to his senses by the intense pain, glared at Zhou Yao with eyes full of fury.
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