Chapter 272: The Second God

Let these mundane mortals witness what a god is, and what divine power truly means.

How could these ordinary humans know that the one who wielded the divine axe those two times was not Xin Kui herself, but Samael, the Dark Angel King, the divine ruler who forever soars through the highest heavens?

A faint smile appeared on Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charging toward her once again. She no longer had the strength or the power to resist.

But this did not mean the gods had abandoned her. As long as she still held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the divine race would forever protect her.

The twelve elders attacked simultaneously, ruthlessly and without hesitation. They had already witnessed the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating this woman. They struck together, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in one fell swoop.

After all, divine artifacts could never be destroyed; only the person wielding them could perish.

Xin Kui saw the blinding white light before her, knowing the end was near. Yet she wore a look of sorrow and suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before; it had never existed in the mortal world, nor even in this realm. It was newly born.

This melody, like celestial music, drifted forth from Xin Kui’s voice, carrying an ethereal and sacred quality that transformed her into an angelic beauty.

It was the Song of the Divine Soul, a melody that Xin Kui could only release gradually by pouring out her very life force.

As the song rang out, the silver axe in her hand suddenly came to life.

From a lifeless object, the axe suddenly pulsed with vitality. People could clearly sense that within the axe, five souls were stirring restlessly.

Murder and Heifeng, the two stewards, suddenly became alert. They recalled the Flame Bow, the legendary divine artifact that contained a divine soul sealed within it, granting it immense power.

If this silver axe contained five souls……

The moment they thought of it, Heifeng and Murong sprang into action, rushing toward the axe, hoping to seize it before its power erupted.

But they were already too late. The souls within the axe roared furiously, and around the axe, countless spatial vortices tore open. At least six elders were unable to evade in time, getting sucked into the vortex, instantly shredded into flesh and blood, reduced to nothing more than pulp.

“Damn it!!” Elder Heifeng roared in fury.

Their group had included two steward elders and twenty saint elders—an overwhelming force, nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council. Yet against a few mortals, things had gone so terribly wrong.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had perished without even leaving a complete corpse. Such a devastating loss would be hard to explain even if they managed to retrieve the silver axe.

Elder Heifeng was truly enraged. A murderous aura surged from him as he and Murong launched their attacks together. The remaining six elders dared not hesitate, pouring out their full strength to barely contain the axe.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, and what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xinkui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soars in the highest skies.

A smile curled at the corners of Xinkui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge at her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously, ruthless and without mercy. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xinkui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

Xinkui saw the blinding white light before her and knew her end was near. Yet, her face was filled with sorrow as she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world, nor even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was like divine music, flowing through Xinkui’s voice—ethereal, sacred, transforming her into something as beautiful as an angel.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a hymn Xinkui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

As the song echoed, her silver axe suddenly came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon pulsed with vitality. Those nearby could distinctly sense five restless souls stirring within the axe.

The two overseers, Rongzhe and Heifeng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flamebow of Yanrong*—the so-called greatest divine artifact in existence, which sealed a single divine soul within it, granting it unparalleled power.

But if this silver axe contained five souls…

The moment this thought struck them, Heifeng and Rongzhe lunged forward, attempting to seize the axe before its power could fully awaken.

But they were too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to evade in time and were sucked into the rifts, their bodies instantly shredded into bloody mist.

“Bastards!!” Elder Heifeng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two overseers and twenty sacred elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet, against mere mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had perished without leaving intact corpses. Even if they retrieved the silver axe now, such a devastating toll would be impossible to justify.

Heifeng was truly enraged. His killing intent surged like a tidal wave as he and Rongzhe struck together. The remaining six elders, not daring to hold back, unleashed their full power, barely managing to suppress the silver axe.

And this was only because the axe lacked a stronger wielder. A greedy thought flashed through Heifeng’s mind—if he could claim this weapon, infuse it with his peak sacred realm power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment while others were distracted, Heifeng thrust a finger toward Xinkui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xinkui was already at her limit. As Heifeng’s elongated, pale finger shot toward her, its curled nail gleamed with lethal sharpness.

But Xinkui did not dodge—or perhaps she simply lacked the strength to.

“XINKUI!!!” Kanling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Heifeng. But the elders seized the opportunity, slamming two palm strikes into Kanling’s back, forcing her to vomit blood as her organs ruptured.

Heifeng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kanling’s spear. Yet his killing strike remained unwavering, aimed straight at Xinkui’s heart.

It seemed nothing could save her now.

But Xinkui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as if awaiting the descent of a savior.

“No one can save you,” Heifeng sneered.

Then—

The air abruptly scorched.

The once-clear sky turned crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged—mountains still mountains, stones still stones—everyone sensed an undeniable shift.

The planet itself had not altered, yet its environment transformed in an instant, as if multiple stars had been dragged before this nameless world in the blink of an eye.

And then—

Fire.

All-consuming, all-devouring flames erupted.

“Ha!” Xinkui laughed, her eyes finally brimming with satisfaction as she stared at the heavens.

With her laughter, everything around them ignited. The impossible inferno seemed woven into the very air—wherever the scorching wind touched flesh, flames sprouted and crackled to life.

The entire planet turned red.

Only Xinkui, Kanling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else burned.

The first to fall into the inferno were the hundreds of thousands of holy devotees. Weak in power, they were the first to face the endless flames. In moments, they writhed and screamed, clawing at their own skin in futile attempts to extinguish the fire. But soon, they ceased moving—flames had already erupted from within their bodies, consuming their organs. Before long, they would be reduced to piles of black ash.

The remaining elders near Xinkui fared no better. They seemed to receive special attention—massive fireballs plummeted from the sky, forcing them to release Xinkui and focus on defense.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping frantically through the flames to avoid being scorched.

Elder Heifeng’s eyes widened in terror as he pointed at Xinkui and shrieked, “It’s not you! It’s not you—it’s… it’s…!”

Of course, it wasn’t Xinkui. Even at her full power, this goddess could never wield such divine might.

Following Xinkui’s unwavering gaze toward the sky, a man wreathed in crimson clouds descended—his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Heifeng felt as if he were losing his mind. Of all people, why did it have to be this calamity?

Heifeng and Rongzhe inwardly groaned. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void. According to the Supreme One, even if Yang Hao survived, he should have been crippled, never to regain his former strength. Thus, Heifeng and his ilk believed no one in the universe could rival them.

Yet now, the man before them—dressed in plain clothes like an ordinary mortal—was anything but.

Because divine radiance shimmered around his body.

And in his eyes, flames blazed. Wherever his gaze fell, new infernos ignited in the air.

Heifeng recognized this divine radiance all too well—it was something only the Supreme One had possessed before. The mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

This meant Yang Hao was no longer an ordinary man, nor even a peak sacred realm expert.

He had become a god—just like the Supreme One.

A faint divine pressure emanated from Yang Hao. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine might, and they suddenly found themselves immobilized, their power utterly drained. Under his pressure, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm—utterly helpless.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced the six elders to scattered ashes in the wind.

Heifeng and Rongzhe trembled in horror. They could never have imagined Yang Hao would grow so strong—so overwhelmingly powerful, rivaling even the Supreme One’s former might. This was a level they could only revere, only worship.

“Why?! Why?!” Heifeng howled madly as he leaped through the flames.

“Were you the one trying to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Heifeng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t have grown this strong!!” Heifeng’s hair was disheveled, his robes half-burned, his entire body resembling a charred corpse.

The shock was too much for Heifeng. As an overseer elder, he had cultivated for centuries to reach the peak of the sacred realm. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in mere moments.

“Heifeng, you’re already within my divine domain. How can you still deny the impossible?” Yang Hao said coldly. With a flick of his finger, he tore open space itself, summoning a flaming vortex before Heifeng.

Heifeng screamed, barely escaping with his life after expending all his strength.

“Divine domain… Divine domain!!” Rongzhe muttered in stunned terror.

“Indeed. This is my divine domain. I’ve turned this planet into my realm—just so you can taste the might of my Flaming Domain,” Yang Hao said calmly.

After comprehending the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a divine domain truly was: a space where a god rewrote the rules in their favor. Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now did the same.

This nameless planet had become his domain, with the essence of fire as its supreme law. The devotees could not escape the flames. Even the elders could not defy the spatial rules Yang Hao had established.

Heifeng and Rongzhe, despite being overseers, were no exception. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s rules, none could survive.

Then, Heifeng thought he found a way—or so he believed.

The silver axe in Xinkui’s hand.

This divine artifact’s power was clearly no weaker than the Flamebow. In Xinkui’s grasp, it had already fought off over a dozen sacred realm experts. If Heifeng—a peak sacred realm master—wielded it, he might just defeat Yang Hao.

The moment this thought struck him, Heifeng dove toward Xinkui, ignoring the flames licking at his body, desperate to seize the axe.

But Xinkui anticipated him. Having regained some strength, she smirked and hurled the axe into the air—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” Xinkui shouted. “The Axe of the Prime Gods!”

Yang Hao reached out, and the silver axe flew into his palm as if recognizing its true master.

The moment Yang Hao grasped the axe, a tremendous transformation overtook him. His hair lengthened, spreading like needles, while his power surged violently. The entire divine domain grew hotter, the flames more ferocious.

Silver light gleamed in Yang Hao’s eyes, and behind him, six pairs of ethereal wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xinkui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao looked exactly like the Dark Angel King Sa’an.

But in this world, Sa’an no longer existed.

Unaware of the artifact’s true nature, Yang Hao gripped the axe with both hands and roared, “Haa!!”

The blade cleaved through the air, unleashing a brilliance so dazzling it seemed to carry away an entire era’s radiance.

In the distance, Heifeng—under this peerless might—was cleanly sliced into seven pieces.

The wind stilled.

The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity.

On this planet, mere minutes ago, hundreds of thousands of enemies had clamored for blood. Twenty elders and two overseers had sought to tear Xinkui and her companions apart.

Yet in the few minutes since Yang Hao’s arrival, everything had changed.

Kanling and Shi Mingyuan stared at him in stunned silence, thinking, *What kind of man is this?*

But Yang Hao didn’t consider his actions extraordinary. The secrets he now knew surpassed the bounds of this universe.

Landing with the axe slung over his shoulder, he strode toward Rongzhe.

The once-arrogant overseer elder now stood in disheveled defeat, lacking even the courage to resist.

To him, Yang Hao was now a god—just like the Supreme One.

And who dared defy a god?

In Rongzhe’s heart, a lament arose: *The Supreme One’s era of sole divinity, established over centuries, ends today.*

For in this universe, there was no longer only one god.

Yang Hao had become a new god.

*After my godhood, another shall rise.*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had become reality.

From this day forth, the universe’s glory and worship would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He now possessed the power to do so.

This was the age of twin gods.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, and what divine power truly means.

The ignorant mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xinkui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soars in the highest skies.

A faint smile curled on Xinkui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge at her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously, ruthless and without mercy. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xinkui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xinkui faced the blinding white light, she knew her end was near. Yet, sorrow filled her face as she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world, nor even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was divine, as if channeled through Xinkui’s voice—ethereal, sacred, transforming her into something angelic in its beauty.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a hymn Xinkui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

And as the song resonated, her silver axe awakened.

The lifeless weapon suddenly pulsed with vitality. Those nearby could distinctly sense five restless souls writhing within its silver depths.

The two overseers, Rongzhe and Heifeng, jolted in realization. They recalled the *Flame Bow of Yanrong*—the legendary divine bow that imprisoned a single divine soul, granting it unparalleled power.

But if this silver axe contained *five* souls…

The thought struck terror into them. Heifeng and Rongzhe lunged forward, desperate to seize the axe before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and in an instant, countless spatial vortices tore open around it. Six elders, caught off guard, were sucked into the rifts—their bodies shredded into bloody mist in the blink of an eye.

“Bastard!!” Heifeng bellowed in fury.

Their force had consisted of two overseers and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet against a mere handful of mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

Eight elders annihilated in moments. Even if they reclaimed the silver axe, such devastation would be unforgivable.

Heifeng’s rage burned white-hot. He and Rongzhe attacked in unison, while the remaining six elders poured every ounce of their strength into suppressing the axe’s power.

And yet, the weapon remained untamed.

A greedy thought flickered in Heifeng’s mind—if *he* could wield this axe, with his peak Saint-level power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment, Heifeng thrust a finger toward Xinkui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine weapon for himself.

Xinkui, already at death’s door, didn’t—or couldn’t—dodge.

“XINKUI!!!” Kanling roared, abandoning her own fight to intercept Heifeng. But the two elders beside her seized the opportunity, striking her back with devastating force. Blood sprayed from her mouth as her organs ruptured.

Heifeng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kanling’s spear. His killing strike never wavered.

All seemed lost.

Yet Xinkui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky—as if awaiting a savior to descend.

“No one can save you now,” Heifeng snarled.

Then—

The air ignited.

The once-clear sky turned crimson. The world *felt* different, though nothing visibly changed.

Yet everything *had* changed.

The planet remained, but its environment shifted in an instant—as if someone had dragged entire stars into its orbit.

And then—

Fire.

All-consuming, all-devouring fire.

“Ha!” Xinkui laughed, her eyes alight with triumph.

As her laughter echoed, the world around them erupted in flames. The inferno seemed to exist within the very air—scorching winds igniting flesh upon contact.

The entire planet burned red.

Only Xinkui, Kanling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched.

The first to fall were the hundreds of thousands of zealots—their feeble bodies incinerated in an instant. From above, they writhed like torched insects before collapsing into ash.

The surviving elders fared no better. Massive fireballs rained from the sky, forcing them to abandon Xinkui and focus on survival.

Even the two overseers retreated, leaping frantically to avoid the flames.

Heifeng trembled, pointing at Xinkui in horror. “Not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!”

Of course it wasn’t Xinkui. Even at her peak, she could never wield such power.

Following her gaze, a figure descended from the heavens—wreathed in crimson clouds, his face cold, his aura suffused with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Heifeng’s voice cracked.

The harbinger of doom had returned.

Heifeng and Rongzhe’s hearts sank. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had banished Yang Hao into the void. By all accounts, he should have been crippled—if not dead.

Yet here he stood—dressed in plain clothes, yet radiating the unmistakable glow of a *Divine Realm*.

And in his eyes—fire.

Wherever he looked, new flames ignited.

Heifeng recognized that aura. Only the Supreme One had ever possessed it—the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

Yang Hao was no longer human.

No longer a mere Saint-level warrior.

He had become a god.

A faint divine pressure emanated from him. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao’s will crushed them. Their strength evaporated. Under his gaze, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm—utterly powerless.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Heifeng and Rongzhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets.

How?

How had Yang Hao grown so strong?

This power rivaled the Supreme One’s—a force they could only worship from afar.

“Why?!” Heifeng howled, leaping through the flames.

“Was it you who tried to kill them?” Yang Hao’s burning gaze locked onto Heifeng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t be this strong!!” Heifeng’s hair whipped wildly, his robes half-charred, his body trembling like a madman.

The disparity was too much. Heifeng had spent centuries reaching Saint-level peak. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in mere months.

“Heifeng, you stand within *my* Divine Realm,” Yang Hao said coldly. “And still you deny what’s before you?”

He flicked a finger—and a flaming spatial vortex tore open before Heifeng.

The elder screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine Realm… Divine Realm!!” Rongzhe muttered in terror.

“Indeed,” Yang Hao said. “I’ve turned this planet into my domain. A *Flame Domain*—just for you.”

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a Divine Realm truly was—a god reshaping reality to their will.

Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his slaughterhouse, Yang Hao had forged this nameless world into his own.

Here, fire reigned supreme.

None could escape.

Not the zealots.

Not the elders.

Not even the overseers.

Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s rules, death was inevitable.

Then Heifeng saw his chance—or so he thought.

Xinkui’s silver axe.

A divine artifact rivaling the *Flame Bow*. In the hands of a Saint-level peak warrior like himself, perhaps it could defeat Yang Hao.

Ignoring the flames licking at his flesh, Heifeng lunged for the axe.

But Xinkui was one step ahead.

With a cold smile, she hurled the weapon skyward—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” she cried. “*The Axe of the Divine Lords!*”

Yang Hao caught it effortlessly.

The moment his fingers closed around the haft, his entire being transformed.

His hair lengthened, spiking outward like needles. His power surged, intensifying the domain’s heat, amplifying the inferno.

Silver light shimmered in his eyes.

And behind him—six pairs of spectral wings flickered into existence.

Xinkui stared in awe.

He looked just like the Dark Angel King Sa’an.

But Sa’an was gone.

Unaware of the axe’s true nature, Yang Hao gripped it with both hands and swung.

The blade carved through reality—a slash so radiant it seemed to sever an entire era.

Heifeng, standing in its path, was cleaved into seven pieces.

Silence.

The winds stilled.

The flames died.

Yang Hao descended like a deity.

In mere minutes, he had annihilated hundreds of thousands—including twenty elders and two overseers.

Kanling and Shi Mingyuan could only gape.

*What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao felt no pride.

The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing before Rongzhe, he rested the axe on his shoulder.

The once-arrogant overseer knelt in the ashes, devoid of defiance.

Yang Hao was a god now—just like the Supreme One.

And who dared oppose a god?

In his heart, Rongzhe mourned.

The age of the Supreme One’s sole divinity had ended.

From this day forth, the universe would bow to another.

Yang Hao had become a god.

And as the Supreme One himself had once prophesied—

*After my godhood, another shall rise.*

The era of dual gods had begun.

With this thought, Heifeng, unnoticed by others, thrust his finger toward Xin Kui’s heart. He would erase her soul instantly and claim the artifact for himself.

Xin Kui was already at her last breath. As Heifeng’s long, pale finger, its curved nail gleaming sharply, pierced toward her, she made no attempt to dodge—or perhaps she simply had no strength left.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling shouted furiously, disregarding the two elders beside her and turning to strike at Heifeng. But those two elders would not let such an opportunity slip. They struck her back with full force, sending her spewing blood, her internal organs gravely damaged.

Heifeng scoffed, merely flicking his sleeve, causing Kan Ling’s spear to veer off course. Yet his killing blow continued its relentless advance toward Xin Kui.

It seemed as though everything was beyond salvation.

But Xin Kui’s gaze never wavered from the sky, as if a savior would descend from above.

“No one can save you,” Heifeng sneered.

Suddenly, the air grew scorching hot, and the clear sky turned blood-red. People sensed a change in their surroundings, though the mountains remained mountains, and the stones still stones—visually, nothing had changed.

But something had changed, something palpable.

The planet itself hadn’t transformed much, but its environment had shifted dramatically, as if in an instant, someone had dragged several stars to orbit this nameless world.

Then the flames erupted, engulfing everything.

“Haha!” Xin Kui laughed aloud, her eyes finally filled with satisfaction as she gazed skyward.

As the goddess laughed, everything around them burst into flames. This unimaginable inferno seemed to exist in the very air itself. When the hot wind touched their skin, fire seeds ignited with a hiss.

The entire planet turned crimson. Except for Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan, everything else was consumed by fire. First to fall into hell were the hundreds of thousands of holy disciples. Already weak in power, they were the first to face the endless flames. In an instant, hundreds of thousands were engulfed, the fire spreading wildly over their bodies.

If viewed from high above the planet, one would see hundreds of thousands writhing, clawing at their faces, desperately trying to extinguish the flames. But soon, they ceased moving altogether, as the fire erupted from within their bodies, igniting their internal organs. Before long, these holy disciples would become hundreds of thousands of piles of black ash.

Near Xin Kui, the remaining elders fared no better. They seemed to receive special attention as massive fireballs rained down from the sky. Instantly, the elders abandoned Xin Kui and focused on defending themselves against the fireballs.

Even the two stewards were forced to retreat from her side, leaping rapidly through the flames to avoid being burned.

Elder Heifeng stared in terror, pointing at Xin Kui and shouting, “It’s not you! It’s not you! It’s… it’s…”

Of course, it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even if this goddess weren’t sealed by divine restrictions, she likely wouldn’t possess such divine power.

Following Xin Kui’s unwavering gaze skyward, a man began descending slowly. His entire body was wreathed in red clouds, his face cold and filled with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Elder Heifeng felt himself going mad at the sight of this ominous star.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, what divine power truly means.

How could these ordinary mortals know that it wasn’t Xinkui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the god-king who forever soars in the highest skies.

A faint smile curled on Xinkui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge at her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously, ruthless and without mercy. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked together, determined to obliterate Xinkui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xinkui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end was near. Yet, her face was filled with sorrow as she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world, nor even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was like divine music, flowing through Xinkui’s voice—ethereal, sacred, transforming her into something as beautiful as an angel.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a melody Xinkui could only release by burning her own life force, note by note.

As the song echoed, the silver axe in Xinkui’s hand suddenly came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon now pulsed with vitality. People could clearly sense that within the axe, five restless souls were stirring violently.

The two elders, Rongzhe and Heifeng, suddenly realized the truth. They thought of the *Flame Bow*, the so-called greatest divine artifact in existence, which sealed a single divine soul within it, granting it immense power.

But if this silver axe contained five souls…

The moment this thought struck them, Heifeng and Rongzhe lunged forward, attempting to seize the axe before its power could fully awaken.

But they were already too late.

The souls within the silver axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to dodge in time and were instantly shredded into bloody mist.

“Bastard!!” Elder Heifeng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two elder overseers and twenty sacred elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s strength. Yet, against mere mortals, they had suffered such devastating losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had been obliterated without even leaving intact corpses. Even if they retrieved the silver axe now, such a catastrophic defeat would be impossible to justify.

Heifeng was truly enraged. His killing intent surged as he and Rongzhe attacked together. The remaining six elders, not daring to hold back, unleashed their full power, barely managing to suppress the silver axe.

But the axe had yet to be wielded by someone stronger. A greedy thought flashed through Heifeng’s mind—if he could claim this weapon, infuse it with his peak sacred realm power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment while others were distracted, Heifeng thrust his finger toward Xinkui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xinkui was already at her limit. As Heifeng’s long, pale finger struck, its curled nail gleamed with deadly sharpness.

But Xinkui did not dodge—perhaps she no longer had the strength to.

“XINKUI!!!” Kanling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Heifeng. But the elders seized the opportunity, slamming two palm strikes into Kanling’s back, causing her to vomit blood as her internal organs ruptured.

Heifeng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kanling’s spear. His killing strike remained unswerving, aimed straight at Xinkui’s heart.

It seemed nothing could stop it now.

Yet Xinkui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as if waiting for a savior to descend.

“No one can save you now,” Heifeng sneered.

Suddenly, the air grew scorching hot. The once-clear sky turned crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged—mountains still mountains, rocks still rocks—everyone could feel it.

The planet itself had not altered, but its environment had transformed in an instant, as if someone had dragged multiple stars before this nameless world in the blink of an eye.

Then, flames erupted—raging, all-consuming.

“Ha!” Xinkui laughed, her eyes finally filled with satisfaction as she gazed at the sky.

With the goddess’s laughter, everything around them burst into flames. The impossible inferno seemed to exist within the very air—when the scorching wind touched flesh, fire ignited instantly.

The entire planet turned red. Except for Xinkui, Kanling, and Shi Mingyuan, everything burned. The first to fall into this hell were the hundreds of thousands of holy devotees. Weak in power, they were the first to face the endless flames. In moments, they were engulfed, their bodies writhing as fire consumed them from within.

From high above the planet, one could see hundreds of thousands of figures twisting, clawing at their own skin, desperate to extinguish the flames. But soon, they stopped moving—fire had already erupted from within, devouring their organs. Before long, they would be reduced to piles of ash.

The remaining elders near Xinkui fared no better. They seemed to receive special attention—massive fireballs rained from the sky, forcing them to abandon Xinkui and focus on defense.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping frantically through the flames to avoid being burned.

Elder Heifeng’s eyes widened in terror as he pointed at Xinkui. “It’s not you… It’s not you! It’s… it’s…!”

Of course, it wasn’t Xinkui. Even if she hadn’t been sealed by divine restrictions, she wouldn’t possess such power.

Following Xinkui’s unwavering gaze toward the sky, a man wreathed in crimson clouds descended—his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Heifeng felt like he was losing his mind. Of all people, why did it have to be this demon?

Heifeng and Rongzhe cursed inwardly. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void. According to the Supreme One, even if Yang Hao survived, he should have been crippled, never regaining his former strength.

Yet now, standing before them in plain clothes like an ordinary man, Yang Hao was anything but ordinary. His body radiated the glow of a divine realm.

And in his eyes, flames burned. Wherever his gaze fell, new fires ignited in the air.

Heifeng recognized this divine radiance all too well—it was something only the Supreme One had possessed before. The mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

This meant Yang Hao was no longer just a man, no longer just a peak sacred realm warrior. Like the Supreme One, he had become a god.

Divine majesty pulsed faintly around Yang Hao. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine pressure, and they found themselves paralyzed—their power utterly drained. Under his overwhelming presence, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm, incapable of resistance.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced the six elders to dust.

Heifeng and Rongzhe stared in horror. They never imagined Yang Hao could become this strong—so powerful that he rivaled the Supreme One’s might from the past. This was a level they could only worship from afar.

“Why?! Why?!” Heifeng howled as he leaped through the flames.

“Were you the one trying to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Heifeng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t have grown this strong!!” Heifeng’s hair was disheveled, his robes half-burned, making him look like a deranged ghost.

The shock was too much for Heifeng. As an elder overseer, he had trained for centuries to reach the peak of the sacred realm. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in mere moments.

“Heifeng, you’re already within my divine domain. How can you still deny the truth?” Yang Hao said coldly. With a flick of his finger, he tore open space itself, summoning a flaming vortex before Heifeng.

Heifeng screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine domain… Divine domain!!” Rongzhe trembled, stunned.

“Indeed. This planet is now my divine domain. Enjoy the power of my *Flame Domain*,” Yang Hao said calmly.

After comprehending the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a divine domain truly was—a realm where a god reshaped the rules of reality to their will. Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now did the same.

He had made this nameless planet his domain, with the essence of fire as its supreme law. The devotees could not escape the flames. Even the elders could not defy the rules Yang Hao had imposed.

Heifeng and Rongzhe, despite being elder overseers, were no exception. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s laws, they could not escape.

Then Heifeng thought he saw a way out—or so he believed.

The silver axe in Xinkui’s hand. That divine artifact, its power no less than the *Flame Bow*, had allowed Xinkui to fight over a dozen sacred realm experts alone. If Heifeng, at the peak of the sacred realm, wielded it, he might stand a chance against Yang Hao.

The moment this thought struck him, Heifeng lunged, ignoring the flames licking at his body, desperate to seize the axe from Xinkui.

But Xinkui had anticipated this. With renewed strength, she smirked and hurled the axe into the sky—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” Xinkui shouted. “The *Axe of the Prime Gods*!”

Yang Hao reached out, and the silver axe flew into his grasp as if recognizing its true master.

The moment Yang Hao gripped the axe, a tremendous transformation overtook him. His hair lengthened, spreading like needles, and his power surged violently. The entire divine domain grew hotter, the flames more ferocious.

Silver light gleamed in Yang Hao’s eyes, and behind him, six pairs of ethereal wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xinkui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao looked exactly like the Dark Angel King, Sa’an.

But in this world, Sa’an no longer existed.

Unaware of the artifact’s true nature, Yang Hao gripped the axe with both hands and roared.

The blade unleashed a brilliance so dazzling it seemed to carve away an entire era.

In the distance, Heifeng—under this godly might—was cleanly split into seven pieces.

The wind stilled. The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity. In mere minutes, the planet that had been swarming with hundreds of thousands of enemies, twenty elders, and two overseers bent on destroying Xinkui and her companions had been cleansed.

Kanling and Shi Mingyuan stared at Yang Hao in disbelief. *What kind of man is this?*

But Yang Hao didn’t think he had done anything extraordinary. The secrets he now knew surpassed this universe itself.

Landing arrogantly with the axe slung over his shoulder, he stood before Rongzhe.

The once-arrogant elder overseer now stood in disheveled defeat, unable to muster even the courage to resist. Yang Hao, like the Supreme One, had become a god of this universe.

In Rongzhe’s heart, he lamented. The Supreme One’s era of sole divinity, established over centuries, had ended today.

For in this universe, there was no longer just one god.

Yang Hao had become a new god.

*”After me, another shall rise.”*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had become reality.

From this day forth, the glory and worship of the cosmos would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He now possessed the power to do so.

This was the age of twin gods.

But now, seeing Yang Hao, clad simply like an ordinary man, was no longer the same.

Instead, on this man’s body, divine aura radiated—his eyes burned with flames, and wherever he looked, new fires ignited in the air.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, and what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xin Kui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soars in the highest skies.

A faint smile curled on Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge toward her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously—ruthlessly, mercilessly. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xin Kui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end was near. Yet, instead of fear, sorrow filled her face, and she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not belong to the mortal world—not even to this universe. It was something new, something divine.

The melody, like sacred music, flowed through Xin Kui’s voice, ethereal and holy, transforming her into something angelic in its beauty.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*—a hymn Xin Kui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

And as the song echoed, her silver axe awakened.

The lifeless weapon suddenly pulsed with vitality. Those nearby could sense it—five restless souls stirring within the axe, writhing in agitation.

The two overseers, Rong Zhe and Hei Feng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flamefused Bow*, the so-called greatest divine artifact in existence, which sealed a single divine soul within it, granting it unparalleled power.

But if this silver axe contained five souls…

The mere thought sent Hei Feng and Rong Zhe into action. They lunged toward the axe, desperate to suppress it before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The souls within the axe roared, and in an instant, countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders, unable to react in time, were sucked into the rifts—their bodies shredded into bloody mist before they could even scream.

“Bastard!!” Hei Feng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two overseers and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet against mere mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had been obliterated without even leaving corpses behind. Even if they reclaimed the silver axe now, such a devastating toll would be impossible to justify.

Hei Feng’s killing intent surged. Alongside Rong Zhe, he unleashed his full power, while the remaining six elders did the same, barely managing to restrain the silver axe.

And yet, the axe had yet to be wielded by someone stronger. A greedy thought flickered in Hei Feng’s mind—if he could claim this weapon, infuse it with his peak Saint-level power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps not even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment, Hei Feng struck—his elongated, pale finger piercing toward Xin Kui’s heart. He would erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xin Kui, already at her limit, didn’t—or couldn’t—dodge.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Hei Feng. But the elders seized the opportunity, slamming their palms into her back. Blood sprayed from her mouth as her organs ruptured.

Hei Feng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kan Ling’s spear. His killing strike remained unhindered, aimed straight at Xin Kui’s heart.

It seemed nothing could stop it.

Yet Xin Kui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky—as if waiting for a savior to descend.

“No one can save you now,” Hei Feng sneered.

Then—

The air turned scorching.

The once-clear sky burned crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged, something fundamental had shifted.

The planet itself hadn’t altered, yet its environment transformed in an instant—as if someone had dragged multiple stars before this nameless world.

And then—

Fire.

All-consuming, all-devouring flames erupted.

“Ha!” Xin Kui laughed, her eyes alight with triumph.

As the goddess’ laughter rang out, everything around them ignited. The impossible inferno seemed to exist within the very air—wherever the scorching wind touched flesh, flames burst to life.

The entire planet turned red.

Only Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else burned.

The first to fall were the hundreds of thousands of zealots—weak and unprepared, they were engulfed instantly, their bodies writhing as the fire consumed them from within.

From above, it looked like a sea of twisting figures, clawing at their own skin in vain before collapsing—reduced to piles of ash.

The remaining elders fared no better. They seemed singled out—massive fireballs rained from the sky, forcing them to abandon Xin Kui and defend themselves.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping frantically through the flames to avoid being scorched.

Hei Feng’s eyes widened in terror as he pointed at Xin Kui. “It’s not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!!!”

Of course it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even at her full power, she could never wield such might.

Following Xin Kui’s gaze, a figure descended—cloaked in crimson clouds, his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Hei Feng felt his sanity fraying. Of all people, why did it have to be *him*?

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe cursed inwardly. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void. By the Supreme One’s own words, even if Yang Hao survived, he should have been crippled—never to regain his former strength.

Yet here he stood—dressed in plain clothes like an ordinary man, yet radiating the unmistakable glow of a Divine Realm.

And in his eyes, fire burned.

Wherever he looked, new flames ignited in the air.

Hei Feng recognized this aura all too well—it was the same as the Supreme One’s. The mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

Yang Hao was no longer human. No longer just a peak Saint.

He had become a god.

Divine pressure radiated from him. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao’s mere will immobilized them—their power drained, their bodies crushed beneath an invisible force.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe trembled in horror. They couldn’t comprehend how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so overwhelmingly powerful, rivaling even the Supreme One’s might.

“Why?!” Hei Feng howled, leaping through the flames. “Why?!”

“Were you the one trying to kill them?” Yang Hao’s burning gaze locked onto Hei Feng. “Old man… we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t be this strong!!” Hei Feng’s robes were half-burned, his hair wild, his face twisted like a demon’s.

The disparity was too much. Hei Feng, an overseer who had trained for centuries, had barely reached the peak of Saint-level. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in what felt like moments.

“Hei Feng,” Yang Hao said coldly, “you stand within my Divine Domain. How can you still deny what’s before you?”

With a flick of his finger, Yang Hao tore open space itself—a vortex of flames erupting before Hei Feng.

The elder screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine Domain… Divine Domain!!!” Rong Zhe muttered in shock.

“Indeed,” Yang Hao said calmly. “I’ve turned this planet into my Divine Domain. Now, experience the might of my *Flame Dominion*.”

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a Divine Domain truly was—a realm where a god reshaped reality to their will. Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now did the same.

This nameless planet obeyed his rules. Fire reigned supreme.

The zealots couldn’t escape. The elders couldn’t defy his laws.

Even Hei Feng and Rong Zhe, as overseers, were powerless unless they shattered Yang Hao’s dominion.

Then Hei Feng saw his chance—or so he thought.

The silver axe in Xin Kui’s hand. A divine artifact rivaling the *Flamefused Bow*. If Xin Kui could wield it against multiple Saint-level experts, what could *he* do with it?

Hei Feng lunged, ignoring the flames searing his flesh, desperate to seize the axe.

But Xin Kui anticipated him. With a cold smile, she hurled the axe into the air—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Primordial Gods!” she cried. “*The Axe of the Primordials!*”

Yang Hao reached out, and the axe flew into his grasp as if recognizing its true master.

The moment he gripped it, his form transformed—his hair lengthened, spiking outward like needles, his power surging violently. The Divine Domain grew hotter, the flames fiercer.

Silver light gleamed in Yang Hao’s eyes. Behind him, six pairs of spectral wings flickered into existence.

Xin Kui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao resembled none other than the Dark Angel King Sa’an himself.

But Sa’an was gone.

Unaware of the axe’s true nature, Yang Hao raised it high.

“HAH!!!”

The blade cleaved through the air, unleashing a brilliance so radiant it seemed to carry away an entire era.

Hei Feng, caught in the path of this divine strike, was cleanly split into seven pieces.

The wind stilled. The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity. In mere minutes, he had annihilated hundreds of thousands of enemies, twenty elders, and two overseers who had sought to tear Xin Kui apart.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan could only stare, awestruck. *What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao felt no pride. The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing before Rong Zhe, he rested the axe on his shoulder, exuding dominance.

The once-arrogant overseer could only cower, devoid of any will to resist.

In Rong Zhe’s heart, a lament echoed—the Supreme One’s era of sole divinity, spanning centuries, had ended today.

For the universe no longer had just one god.

Yang Hao had ascended.

*”After my godhood, another shall rise.”*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had come to pass.

From this day forth, the universe’s glory and worship would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He had the power.

This was the age of twin gods.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, and what divine power truly means.

The ignorant mortals could never know that the one who wielded those two divine axe strikes was not Xin Kui, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soars in the highest heavens.

A smile curled at the corner of Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge toward her once more. She no longer had the strength or the ability to resist.

But that did not mean the divine race had none. As long as she held that silver axe in her palm, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously—ruthlessly, without mercy. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. Thus, they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed. Only the wielder could perish.

As Xin Kui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end was near. Yet, sorrow filled her expression as she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world—nor even in this universe. It was newly born.

The melody was like divine music, flowing through Xin Kui’s voice. Its ethereal, sacred beauty transformed her into something angelic.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a hymn Xin Kui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

As the song resounded, her silver axe suddenly came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon pulsed with vitality. Everyone could sense it—within the axe, five restless souls writhed in agitation.

The two overseers, Rong Zhe and Hei Feng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flamefury Bow*—the legendary divine artifact said to be the mightiest in existence, sealed with a single divine soul.

But if this silver axe contained *five* souls…

The moment the thought struck them, Hei Feng and Rong Zhe lunged forward, attempting to seize the axe before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The souls within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders, unable to evade in time, were sucked into the rifts—their bodies shredded into bloody mist in an instant.

“Bastard!!” Hei Feng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two overseers and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet, against mere mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had perished without leaving even a corpse intact. Even if they reclaimed the silver axe now, such devastation would be impossible to justify.

Hei Feng’s killing intent surged uncontrollably. He and Rong Zhe attacked in unison, while the remaining six elders poured every ounce of their strength into restraining the silver axe.

And this was without the axe being wielded by a stronger hand. Greed flickered in Hei Feng’s heart—if *he* possessed this weapon, with his peak Saint-level power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment, Hei Feng thrust a finger toward Xin Kui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xin Kui, already at her limit, did not—or could not—dodge.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Hei Feng. But the elders seized the opportunity, striking Kan Ling’s back with devastating force. Blood sprayed from her lips as her organs ruptured.

Hei Feng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kan Ling’s spear. His killing strike never wavered from Xin Kui.

All seemed lost.

Yet Xin Kui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky—as if awaiting a savior to descend.

“No one can save you now,” Hei Feng sneered.

Then—

The air turned scorching. The once-clear sky blazed crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged, something fundamental had shifted.

The planet itself had not altered, yet its environment transformed in an instant—as if someone had dragged multiple stars before this nameless world.

Flames erupted, consuming everything.

“Ha!” Xin Kui laughed, her eyes alight with triumph.

As the goddess’s laughter echoed, the world around them ignited. The inferno was incomprehensible—existing within the very air, igniting flesh the moment the scorching wind touched skin.

The entire planet turned red. Only Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else burned.

The first to fall were the hundreds of thousands of zealots—their feeble bodies consumed instantly by the endless flames. From above, they writhed like torched insects, their screams silenced as fire devoured them from within. Soon, only ashes remained.

The surviving elders fared no better. Targeted by colossal fireballs raining from the sky, they abandoned Xin Kui to defend themselves. Even the two overseers were forced to retreat, leaping frantically to avoid immolation.

Hei Feng trembled, pointing at Xin Kui in horror. “Not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!”

Of course, it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even at her full power, she could never wield such might.

Following Xin Kui’s gaze, a man wreathed in crimson mist descended—his face cold, his aura thick with slaughter.

“Yang Hao!!!” Hei Feng felt his sanity fray. Of all people, why *him*?

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe cursed inwardly. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void, declaring that even if he survived, he would never regain his former strength. They had believed no one in the universe could rival them.

Yet now, Yang Hao stood before them—dressed in plain clothes, yet radiating the unmistakable glow of a *Divine Realm*.

His eyes burned with fire, igniting the air wherever his gaze fell.

Hei Feng recognized that glow—it was the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood. Only the Supreme One had possessed it before.

Yang Hao was no longer human. No longer a mere Saint.

He had become a god.

And as his divine might unfurled, the six elders who had resisted the fireballs found themselves paralyzed—their power utterly nullified under Yang Hao’s pressure.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. They could not fathom how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so *unfathomably* strong—rivaling even the Supreme One’s former might.

“Why?! *Why?!*” Hei Feng howled, leaping through flames like a madman.

“*You* tried to kill them?” Yang Hao’s wrathful gaze locked onto Hei Feng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t be this powerful!!” Hei Feng’s hair was wild, his robes half-scorched, his body resembling a charred corpse.

The disparity was too much. Hei Feng, an overseer who had cultivated for centuries, had only reached the peak of Sainthood. Yet Yang Hao had ascended to godhood in mere months.

“Hei Feng, you stand within *my* Divine Realm. How can you deny what is before you?” Yang Hao’s voice was ice. With a flick of his finger, he tore open space—unleashing a vortex of flames before Hei Feng.

Hei Feng screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine Realm… Divine Realm!!” Rong Zhe stood frozen in terror.

“Indeed. This planet is now *my* domain. Enjoy the flames.” Yang Hao’s tone was indifferent.

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a Divine Realm truly was—a god’s dominion, where they rewrote the rules of reality to favor themselves. Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his slaughterhouse, Yang Hao had now forged this nameless world into his own.

Here, fire reigned supreme.

The zealots could not escape. The elders could not resist. Even Hei Feng and Rong Zhe, as overseers, were bound by Yang Hao’s will.

Unless they shattered his rules, none would survive.

Desperate, Hei Feng saw one chance—the silver axe in Xin Kui’s grasp. A divine artifact rivaling the *Flamefury Bow*. If *he* wielded it, with his peak Saint-level power…

He lunged, ignoring the flames searing his flesh, reaching for the axe.

But Xin Kui anticipated him. With a cold smile, she hurled the weapon skyward—toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” she cried. “*The Axe of the Divine!*”

Yang Hao caught it effortlessly, as if the axe recognized its true master.

The moment his fingers closed around the haft, his form transformed. His hair lengthened, spiking like needles. His power surged violently, intensifying the Divine Realm’s inferno.

Silver light gleamed in his eyes. Behind him, six pairs of spectral wings flickered into existence.

Xin Kui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao resembled none other than the Dark Angel King Sa’an himself.

But Sa’an was gone.

Unaware of the axe’s true nature, Yang Hao raised it high.

“*HAH!!!*”

The blade descended, cleaving through reality with a brilliance that seemed to erase an entire era.

Hei Feng, caught in the strike, was split into seven clean pieces.

Silence fell. The winds stilled. The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity. In mere minutes, he had annihilated hundreds of thousands of enemies—including twenty elders and two overseers.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan could only stare, awestruck. *What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao felt no pride. The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing before Rong Zhe, he rested the axe on his shoulder, exuding dominance.

The once-arrogant overseer stood broken, devoid of defiance. Before him stood a god—equal to the Supreme One.

In Rong Zhe’s heart, a lament echoed: *The age of the Supreme One’s sole divinity ends today.*

For now, another god walked the cosmos.

Yang Hao.

*”After my godhood, another shall rise.”*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had come to pass.

From this day forth, the universe’s worship would no longer belong to one alone.

Yang Hao would reshape this era.

He had the power.

This was the age of *Twin Gods*.

Yang Hao merely lifted his chin slightly, and those six elders were instantly torn apart, reduced to dust in midair.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, and what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xin Kui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King, Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soared in the highest heavens.

A faint smile curled on Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge toward her once more. She had no strength left to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had none. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously, ruthless and merciless. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked together, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xin Kui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end was near. Yet, sorrow filled her face, and she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world, nor even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was divine, as if channeled through Xin Kui’s voice—ethereal, sacred, transforming her into something angelic in beauty.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a hymn Xin Kui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

As the song resonated, her silver axe suddenly came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon now pulsed with vitality. People could clearly sense five restless souls stirring within it.

The two overseers, Rong Zhe and Hei Feng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flame Bow*, the so-called greatest divine artifact in existence, which sealed a single divine soul within it, granting it immense power.

But if this silver axe contained five souls…

The moment this thought struck them, Hei Feng and Rong Zhe lunged forward, attempting to seize the axe before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to evade in time and were sucked into the rifts, their bodies instantly shredded into bloody mist.

“Bastard!!” Elder Hei Feng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two overseers and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet, against a handful of mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had perished without leaving intact corpses. Even if they reclaimed the silver axe, such a devastating toll would be impossible to justify.

Hei Feng’s killing intent surged. He and Rong Zhe attacked in unison, while the remaining six elders poured their full strength into suppressing the axe.

And this was without the axe being wielded by a stronger hand.

A greedy thought flashed in Hei Feng’s mind—if he could claim this axe, with his peak Saint-level power fueling it, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps not even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment, Hei Feng thrust a finger toward Xin Kui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xin Kui, already at her limit, didn’t—or couldn’t—dodge as Hei Feng’s elongated, pale finger, its curled nail gleaming sharply, struck toward her.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Hei Feng. But the elders seized the opportunity, slamming their palms into her back, forcing blood to gush from her mouth as her organs ruptured.

Hei Feng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kan Ling’s spear, but his killing strike never wavered from Xin Kui.

It seemed nothing could stop the inevitable.

Yet Xin Kui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as if awaiting a savior to descend.

“No one can save you now,” Hei Feng snarled.

Then—

The air suddenly scorched.

The once-clear sky turned crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged—mountains stood, rocks lay unmoved—something had undeniably shifted.

The planet itself hadn’t altered, but its environment transformed in an instant, as if multiple stars had been dragged before this nameless world in the blink of an eye.

And then—

Flames.

All-consuming, all-devouring flames erupted.

“Ha!” Xin Kui laughed, her eyes alight with satisfaction as she gazed skyward.

With her laughter, everything around them ignited. The impossible inferno seemed woven into the very air—wherever the scorching wind touched flesh, fire sprouted and crackled to life.

The entire planet turned red.

Only Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else burned.

The first to fall into the inferno were the hundreds of thousands of zealots. Weak in power, they were the first to face the endless flames. In moments, they writhed, clawing at their own skin, desperate to extinguish the fire consuming them.

But soon, they stopped moving.

The flames had already erupted from within, searing their organs. Soon, they would be nothing but piles of ash.

The remaining elders near Xin Kui fared no better. They seemed singled out—massive fireballs plummeted from the sky, forcing them to release Xin Kui and focus on defending themselves.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping frantically through the flames to avoid being burned.

Hei Feng’s eyes widened in terror as he pointed at Xin Kui.

“It’s not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!!!”

Of course, it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even at her full power, she could never wield such divine might.

Following Xin Kui’s unwavering gaze toward the sky, a man wreathed in crimson mist descended—his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Hei Feng felt as if he were losing his mind. Of all people, why did it have to be *him*?

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe inwardly groaned. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had blasted Yang Hao off the planet. According to the Supreme One, even if Yang Hao survived, he should have been crippled, never regaining his former strength.

Yet here he stood—dressed in plain clothes like an ordinary man, but radiating the unmistakable glow of a Divine Realm.

And in his eyes, fire blazed.

Wherever his gaze fell, new flames ignited in the air.

Hei Feng recognized this divine aura all too well—only the Supreme One had ever possessed it. It was the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

Yang Hao was no longer human.

No longer just a peak Saint.

He had become like the Supreme One—a god.

An oppressive divine might emanated from Yang Hao. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine pressure, freezing them in place, their power utterly drained.

Under his divine suppression, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm—utterly helpless.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. They couldn’t fathom how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so overwhelmingly powerful, rivaling even the Supreme One’s former might.

This was a level they could only worship from afar.

“Why?! Why?!” Hei Feng howled as he leaped through the flames.

“Was it you who tried to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Hei Feng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t have grown this strong!!” Hei Feng’s hair was disheveled, his robes half-burned, his entire body resembling a charred corpse.

The shock was too much. Hei Feng, an overseer who had trained for centuries, had only reached the peak of the Saint Realm. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in what felt like moments.

“Hei Feng, you’re already within my Divine Realm. How can you still deny what’s before you?” Yang Hao said coldly. With a flick of his finger, he tore open space itself, unleashing a flaming vortex before Hei Feng.

Hei Feng screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine Realm… Divine Realm!!!” Rong Zhe trembled, paralyzed by fear.

“Indeed. My Divine Realm. I’ve turned this planet into my domain. Now, you’ll experience the might of my Flaming Domain.” Yang Hao’s voice was calm.

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao now understood what a Divine Realm truly was—a god’s ability to rewrite the rules of their surroundings to favor themselves.

Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now did the same.

This nameless planet was now his.

Fire was its supreme law.

The zealots couldn’t escape the flames.

Even the elders couldn’t defy the spatial rules Yang Hao had imposed.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe, despite being overseers, were no exception. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s decree, there was no escape.

Then Hei Feng had an idea—or so he thought.

The silver axe in Xin Kui’s hand.

A divine artifact, its power seemingly no weaker than the Flame Bow. If Xin Kui could wield it against a dozen Saint-level experts, what could *he* do with it at his peak?

Perhaps even defeat Yang Hao.

Without hesitation, Hei Feng dove through the flames, ignoring the burns as he lunged for the axe.

But Xin Kui anticipated him.

With a cold smile, she hurled the axe into the sky—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” she shouted. “The *Axe of the Prime Gods*!”

Yang Hao reached out.

The axe flew into his grasp as if recognizing its true master.

The moment his fingers closed around it, a transformation swept through him.

His hair lengthened, spreading like needles. His power surged violently, intensifying the heat of the Divine Realm, the flames growing even more ferocious.

His eyes gleamed silver.

Behind him, six pairs of ethereal wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xin Kui stared in awe.

In this moment, Yang Hao looked exactly like the Dark Angel King, Sa’an.

But Sa’an was no more.

Unaware of the axe’s true nature, Yang Hao gripped it with both hands and—

“HAH!!!”

The axe’s edge split the air with a radiance so magnificent, it seemed to carry away the brilliance of an entire era.

Hei Feng, standing in the distance, was cleanly severed into seven pieces.

The wind stilled.

The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity.

On this planet, mere minutes ago, hundreds of thousands of enemies had clamored for blood. Twenty elders and two overseers had sought to tear Xin Kui and her companions apart.

But in the span of Yang Hao’s arrival, everything had changed.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan could only stare, their minds reeling.

*What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao didn’t see his actions as extraordinary. The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing with the axe slung over his shoulder, he strode toward Rong Zhe.

The once-arrogant overseer now stood in disheveled defeat, devoid of even the courage to resist.

Yang Hao was a god now—just like the Supreme One.

And who dared defy a god?

In Rong Zhe’s heart, a lament echoed.

The Supreme One’s era of sole divinity, spanning centuries, had ended today.

The universe no longer had just one god.

For Yang Hao had ascended.

*After my godhood, another shall rise.*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had become reality.

From this day forth, the universe’s glory and worship would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would reshape this era.

He had the power to do so.

This was the age of twin gods.

“Why? Why?” Elder Heifeng screamed wildly while leaping through the flames.

“You were the one who wanted to kill them?” Yang Hao turned his furious gaze toward Heifeng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!! Impossible! You can’t have become this strong!!!” Heifeng’s hair was disheveled, his clothes half-burnt, his entire figure resembling a madman.

Heifeng was utterly devastated. The gap between Yang Hao’s growth and his own was too vast. As a steward elder who had trained for centuries, he had barely reached the Saint Domain peak. Yet Yang Hao had ascended to such a level in such a short time.

“Heifeng! You are already within my Divine Domain. How can you still say it’s impossible?” Yang Hao said coldly, lightly flicking his finger as if tearing open space itself, causing a fiery spatial vortex to appear before Heifeng.

Heifeng screamed in agony, barely managing to escape with all his might.

“Divine Domain!! Divine Domain!!!” Elder Murong was trembling in shock.

“That’s right, my Divine Domain. I have transformed this nameless planet into my Divine Domain. Now, let me show you the power of my Flame Domain!” Yang Hao said calmly.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xinkui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soars in the highest heavens.

A smile curled at the corners of Xinkui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge toward her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously—ruthlessly, mercilessly. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xinkui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xinkui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end had come. Yet sorrow filled her face, and she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world—nor even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was divine, as though channeled through Xinkui’s voice. Its ethereal, sacred resonance made her glow with an angelic beauty.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a hymn Xinkui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

As the song echoed, her silver axe suddenly came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon pulsed with vitality. Those nearby could distinctly sense five restless souls writhing within its silver depths.

The two overseers, Rongzhe and Heifeng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flamefused Bow*—the legendary divine artifact said to be the mightiest in existence, sealed with the soul of a god.

But if this silver axe contained *five* souls…

The moment the thought struck them, Heifeng and Rongzhe lunged forward, desperate to seize the weapon before its power erupted.

Yet they were already too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders, unable to evade in time, were sucked into the rifts—their bodies shredded into bloody mist in an instant.

“Bastard!!” Elder Heifeng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two overseers and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet against a handful of mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had been annihilated without even leaving corpses behind. Even if they reclaimed the silver axe now, such devastation would be impossible to justify.

Heifeng’s killing intent surged like a tidal wave. He and Rongzhe attacked in unison, while the remaining six elders, not daring to hold back, unleashed their full power to barely restrain the silver axe.

And this was *without* the axe being wielded by someone stronger. A greedy thought flickered in Heifeng’s mind—if *he* possessed this weapon, infused with his peak Saint-level strength, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps not even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment when no one was watching, Heifeng thrust a finger toward Xinkui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xinkui was already at her limit. As Heifeng’s elongated, pale finger shot toward her, its curled nail gleamed with lethal sharpness.

Yet she did not dodge—perhaps she no longer had the strength to.

“XINKUI!!!” Kanling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Heifeng. But the elders wouldn’t miss this chance—two heavy palm strikes landed on Kanling’s back, forcing blood from her lips as her organs ruptured.

Heifeng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kanling’s spear. His killing strike remained unswerving, aimed straight at Xinkui’s heart.

It seemed nothing could stop the inevitable.

Yet Xinkui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as though awaiting a savior to descend.

“No one can save you now,” Heifeng snarled.

Then—

The air turned scorching.

The once-clear sky flushed crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged—mountains still mountains, stones still stones—everyone could *feel* the shift.

The planet itself hadn’t transformed, yet its environment had warped in an instant, as though someone had dragged multiple suns before this nameless world.

Flames erupted, engulfing everything.

“Ha!” Xinkui laughed, her eyes alight with triumph.

As the goddess’s laughter rang out, the world around them ignited. The impossible inferno seemed woven into the very air—when the scorching wind touched flesh, fire sprouted like seeds, crackling to life.

The entire planet burned red.

Only Xinkui, Kanling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else—everyone else—was consumed. The first to fall were the hundreds of thousands of zealots, their feeble bodies instantly swallowed by the endless flames.

From high above, one could see them writhing, clawing at their own skin, desperate to extinguish the fire. But soon, they stopped moving—flames had already erupted from within, devouring their organs. In moments, they would be nothing but ash.

The remaining elders near Xinkui fared no better. They seemed singled out—massive fireballs rained from the sky, forcing them to release Xinkui and focus on defense.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping frantically through the flames to avoid being scorched.

Elder Heifeng trembled in terror, pointing at Xinkui. “It’s not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!!!”

Of course it wasn’t Xinkui. Even at her full power, she could never wield such divine might.

Following her unwavering gaze toward the heavens, a man wreathed in crimson clouds descended—his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Heifeng felt his sanity fraying. Of all people, why did it have to be *him*?

Heifeng and Rongzhe exchanged despairing glances. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void, declaring that even if he survived, he would never regain his former strength.

Yet now, clad in simple robes like an ordinary man, Yang Hao was anything *but* ordinary.

Divine radiance shimmered around him.

His eyes burned with fire—wherever his gaze fell, new flames ignited in the air.

Heifeng recognized this divine aura all too well. Before, only the Supreme One had possessed it—the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

Yang Hao was no longer human, no longer a peak Saint.

He had become a god—just like the Supreme One.

An oppressive divine might emanated from him. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao’s aura crushed them—paralyzing them, draining their strength.

Under his divine pressure, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm, utterly powerless.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Heifeng and Rongzhe gaped in horror. They could never have imagined Yang Hao would grow *this* strong—so powerful, he rivaled the Supreme One’s former might.

This was a level they could only worship from afar.

“Why?! WHY?!” Heifeng howled, leaping through the flames like a madman.

“*You* tried to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Heifeng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible—you can’t be this strong!!!” Heifeng’s hair was wild, his robes half-burned, his entire body resembling a charred corpse.

The shock was too much. Heifeng had spent centuries cultivating to reach Saint-level peak, yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in mere moments.

“Heifeng, you’re already within my Divine Domain. How can you still deny the truth?” Yang Hao’s voice was ice. With a flick of his finger, he tore open space—a vortex of flames erupted before Heifeng.

Heifeng screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine Domain… Divine Domain!!!” Rongzhe stood frozen in terror.

“Indeed. This planet *is* my Divine Domain. Enjoy the taste of my *Flame Domain’s* power.” Yang Hao’s tone was calm.

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao now understood what a Divine Domain truly was—a realm where a god reshaped reality to their will. Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao had now done the same.

This nameless world obeyed *his* rules. Fire reigned supreme.

The zealots couldn’t escape the flames. Even the elders couldn’t defy the laws Yang Hao had imposed.

Heifeng and Rongzhe, despite being overseers, were no exception. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s dominion, they were doomed.

Suddenly, Heifeng saw a glimmer of hope—or so he thought.

Xinkui’s silver axe.

A divine artifact rivaling the *Flamefused Bow*. In Xinkui’s hands, it had held off over a dozen Saint-level experts. If *he* wielded it at his peak strength, perhaps he could defeat Yang Hao.

The moment the idea struck, Heifeng lunged—ignoring the flames searing his flesh—desperate to snatch the axe from Xinkui’s grasp.

But Xinkui anticipated him. With a cold smile, she hurled the axe skyward—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” she cried. “*The Prime Axe!*”

Yang Hao reached out. The axe flew into his palm as though recognizing its true master.

The moment he gripped it, a transformation swept through him.

His hair lengthened, spreading like needles. His power surged violently, intensifying the heat of the Divine Domain, amplifying the flames.

His eyes gleamed silver. Behind him, six pairs of spectral wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xinkui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao resembled none other than the Dark Angel King Sa’an himself.

But Sa’an was gone.

Unaware of the artifact’s true nature, Yang Hao raised the axe with both hands.

“HA!!!”

The blade split the air with a brilliance akin to an era’s radiance fading in a single stroke.

Heifeng, caught in the path of this godly might, was cleanly severed into seven pieces.

The wind stilled. The flames died.

Yang Hao descended like a deity.

Minutes ago, this planet had teemed with hundreds of thousands of enemies, twenty elders, and two overseers bent on tearing Xinkui apart.

Now, all that remained was ash.

Kanling and Shi Mingyuan could only gape at Yang Hao, their thoughts echoing:

*What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao felt no pride. The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing with the axe slung over his shoulder, he strode toward Rongzhe.

The once-arrogant overseer stood broken, devoid of even the will to resist.

Before him stood a god—just like the Supreme One.

And in Rongzhe’s heart, a grim realization settled:

The age of the Supreme One’s sole divinity had ended.

From this day forth, the universe would bow to *two* gods.

Yang Hao would reshape this era.

He had the power.

This was the dawn of the Twin Gods.

Now, history was repeating itself. Yang Hao had transformed this nameless planet into his Divine Domain, making the essence of fire the supreme law of this realm. The holy disciples could not escape the flames, and even the elders could not survive within Yang Hao’s spatial rules.

Though Heifeng and Murong were steward elders, they could not escape either. Unless they could break Yang Hao’s laws, no one could survive.

Elder Heifeng suddenly thought he had found a way—at least he believed he had.

It was the silver axe in Xin Kui’s hand. This divine artifact was clearly no less powerful than the Flame Bow. If Xin Kui alone could resist over a dozen Saint Domain experts, then if Heifeng, at the Saint Domain peak, wielded it, he might defeat Yang Hao.

With this thought, Heifeng immediately dove down, ignoring the flames burning his body, determined to seize the axe from Xin Kui.

But could he think of it without Xin Kui anticipating it? The woman had regained much of her strength. Seeing Heifeng charging toward her, she sneered coldly, swung the axe, and hurled it into the air toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Great Lords!” Xin Kui shouted. “The Axe of the Lords!”

Yang Hao reached out, and as if recognizing its master, the silver axe flew into his palm.

The moment Yang Hao grasped the axe, his entire being transformed. His hair grew longer, shooting out like needles in all directions. His power surged violently, making the Divine Domain even hotter, the flames even more intense.

His eyes gleamed with a silvery light, and behind him, six pairs of light-formed wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xin Kui stared at Yang Hao in awe. He looked exactly like Samael, the Dark Angel King.

But in this world, there would never again be a Samael.

Yang Hao himself had not yet realized what kind of divine artifact he now held. Gripping the axe with both hands, he roared, “Haaa!!!”

The blade cleaved through dazzling brilliance, as if the glory of an entire era vanished with that single strike.

Far away, Elder Heifeng was sliced into seven pieces by that peerless power, dying cleanly and decisively.

The wind stilled, and the flames extinguished.

Yang Hao descended from the sky like a celestial god. Moments ago, this planet had been filled with hundreds of thousands of roaring enemies, twenty elders, and two stewards, all determined to tear Xin Kui and her companions apart.

But within minutes of Yang Hao’s arrival, everything had changed.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan stared at Yang Hao in stunned silence, thinking, “What kind of man is this?”

But Yang Hao did not consider what he had done to be particularly extraordinary. The secrets he had uncovered long surpassed this universe.

After descending, he arrogantly carried the axe and stood before Elder Murong.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xinkui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the god-king who forever soars in the highest skies.

A smile curled at the corners of Xinkui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge at her once more. She no longer had the strength or the energy to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had none. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously, ruthlessly and without mercy. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked together, determined to obliterate Xinkui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

Xinkui saw the blinding white light before her and knew her end had come. Yet her face was filled with sorrow as she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world, nor even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was like divine music, flowing from Xinkui’s lips. Its ethereal, sacred quality made her appear as beautiful as an angel.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a melody Xinkui could only release by burning her own life force, note by note.

As the song echoed, her silver axe suddenly came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon now pulsed with vitality. People could clearly sense five restless souls stirring within it.

The two overseers, Rongzhe and Heifeng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flamefury Bow*—the so-called greatest divine artifact in existence, which sealed a single divine soul within it, granting it immense power.

But if this silver axe contained five souls…

The moment this thought struck them, Heifeng and Rongzhe lunged forward, attempting to seize the axe before its power could erupt.

But they were too late.

The souls within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to dodge in time and were sucked into the rifts, their bodies instantly shredded into bloody mist.

“Bastard!!” Elder Heifeng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two overseers and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s strength. Yet in dealing with mere mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had been annihilated without leaving even a corpse behind. Even if they retrieved the silver axe now, such a devastating toll would be impossible to justify.

Heifeng was truly enraged. His killing intent surged as he and Rongzhe attacked together. The remaining six elders, not daring to hold back, unleashed their full power, barely managing to suppress the silver axe.

And this was only because the axe wasn’t wielded by someone stronger. A greedy thought flashed through Heifeng’s mind—if he could claim this weapon, infuse it with his peak Saint-level power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps not even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment while others were distracted, Heifeng thrust a finger toward Xinkui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xinkui was already at her limit. As Heifeng’s elongated, pale finger shot toward her, its curled nail gleamed with deadly sharpness.

But Xinkui did not dodge—or perhaps she no longer had the strength to.

“XINKUI!!!” Kanling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Heifeng. But the elders seized the opportunity, striking Kanling’s back with two heavy palm strikes, forcing her to cough up blood as her internal organs were injured.

Heifeng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kanling’s spear. Yet his killing strike remained unswerving, aimed straight at Xinkui.

It seemed nothing could save her now.

But Xinkui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as if waiting for a savior to descend.

“No one can save you,” Heifeng sneered.

Then—

The air abruptly turned scorching.

The once-clear sky darkened into a deep crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged—mountains still mountains, stones still stones—everyone could feel it.

Something had shifted.

The planet itself hadn’t transformed, but its environment had undergone a thousand changes in an instant, as if someone had dragged several stars before this nameless world in the blink of an eye.

And then—

Fire.

All-consuming, all-encompassing flames erupted.

“Ha!” Xinkui laughed, her eyes finally brimming with satisfaction as she stared at the heavens.

With the goddess’s laughter, everything around them ignited. The flames were incomprehensible, as if they existed within the very air. The scorching wind brushed against flesh, and fire instantly sprouted, crackling to life.

The entire planet turned red.

Except for Xinkui, Kanling, and Shi Mingyuan, everything burned. The first to fall into the inferno were the hundreds of thousands of Holy Disciples. Weak in power, they were the first to face the endless flames. In moments, they were engulfed, their bodies writhing as fire consumed them.

From high above the planet, one could see hundreds of thousands of figures twisting, clawing at their faces, desperately trying to extinguish the flames. But soon, they stopped moving—because the fire had already erupted from within, incinerating their organs. Before long, they would be reduced to piles of ash.

The remaining elders near Xinkui fared no better. They seemed to receive special attention as massive fireballs rained from the sky. The elders immediately released Xinkui, focusing all their strength on defending against the flames.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping frantically through the fire to avoid being burned.

Elder Heifeng’s eyes widened in terror as he pointed at Xinkui and screamed, “It’s not you! It’s not you—it’s… it’s…!”

Of course, it wasn’t Xinkui. Even if she hadn’t been sealed by divine restrictions, she wouldn’t possess such power.

Following Xinkui’s unwavering gaze toward the sky, a man wreathed in crimson clouds descended—his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Heifeng felt as if he were losing his mind. Of all people, why did they have to encounter this calamity?

Heifeng and Rongzhe inwardly groaned. After the battle at the Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao out of the planet. According to the Supreme One, even if Yang Hao survived, he would have lost half his life and could never regain his former strength.

Thus, Heifeng and the others had believed no one in the universe could surpass them.

But now—

Yang Hao, dressed in plain clothes like an ordinary man, was no longer ordinary.

Because divine radiance shimmered around his body.

And in his eyes, flames blazed. Wherever his gaze fell, new fires ignited in the air.

Heifeng recognized this divine radiance all too well—it was something only the Supreme One had possessed before. It was the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

This meant Yang Hao was no longer just a man, no longer just a peak Saint.

He had become like the Supreme One—a god.

A faint divine pressure emanated from Yang Hao. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine might, and the six suddenly found themselves immobilized, their power completely drained. Under Yang Hao’s pressure, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm—utterly powerless.

Yang Hao merely tilted his chin slightly, and the six elders disintegrated, turning to dust in the air.

Heifeng and Rongzhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. They couldn’t fathom how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so overwhelmingly powerful, rivaling even the Supreme One’s might from the past.

This was a level of strength they could only revere, only worship.

“Why?! Why?!” Heifeng howled madly as he leaped through the flames.

“Were you the one trying to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Heifeng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t have become this strong!!” Heifeng’s hair was disheveled, his robes half-burned, making him look like a deranged ghost.

Heifeng was utterly shaken. The gap between his own progress and Yang Hao’s was too vast. As an overseer elder, Heifeng had trained for centuries to reach peak Saint-level. Yet Yang Hao had achieved godhood in mere moments.

“Heifeng, you’re already within my Divine Domain. How can you still deny what’s before you?” Yang Hao said coldly. With a flick of his finger, he tore open space, and a flaming vortex erupted before Heifeng.

Heifeng screamed, barely escaping with his life after expending all his strength.

“Divine Domain… Divine Domain!!!” Rongzhe trembled, stunned.

“Indeed. This is my Divine Domain. I’ve turned this planet into my domain—just so you can experience the might of my Flames of Judgment,” Yang Hao said calmly.

After comprehending the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a Divine Domain truly was. It was a god’s ability to alter the rules of their surroundings, bending reality to their will.

Just as the Supreme One had once turned the Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now replicated that feat.

He had transformed this nameless planet into his Divine Domain, with the essence of fire as its supreme law. The Holy Disciples couldn’t escape the flames. Even the elders couldn’t survive within the spatial rules Yang Hao had established.

Heifeng and Rongzhe, despite being overseers, were no exception. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s rules, no one could escape.

Then—

Heifeng suddenly thought of a way. Or at least, he believed he had.

The silver axe in Xinkui’s hand.

This divine artifact’s power was clearly no weaker than the *Flamefury Bow*. Even in Xinkui’s grasp, it had allowed her to fight over a dozen Saint-level experts. If Heifeng—a peak Saint—wielded it, he might just defeat Yang Hao.

The moment this thought struck him, Heifeng dove toward Xinkui, ignoring the flames licking at his body, intent on seizing the axe.

But if he could think of it, so could Xinkui.

The goddess had regained some strength. Seeing Heifeng charge, she smirked and hurled the silver axe into the air—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five High Gods!” Xinkui shouted. “The *Axe of the Divine Lords*!”

Yang Hao reached out, and the axe flew into his palm as if recognizing its true master.

The moment Yang Hao grasped the axe, a tremendous transformation overtook him.

His hair lengthened, spreading out like needles. His power surged violently, intensifying the heat of the Divine Domain, making the flames even more ferocious.

Silver light gleamed in Yang Hao’s eyes. Behind him, six pairs of ethereal wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xinkui stared in awe. At this moment, Yang Hao looked exactly like the Dark Angel King Sa’an.

But in this world, Sa’an no longer existed.

Unaware of the true nature of the artifact in his hands, Yang Hao gripped the axe with both hands and—

“HA!!!”

The blade cleaved through the air, releasing a brilliance so magnificent it seemed to carry away the splendor of an entire era.

In the distance, Heifeng—under this peerless force—was cleanly split into seven pieces.

The wind stilled.

The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity.

On this planet, mere minutes ago, hundreds of thousands of enemies had clamored for blood. Twenty elders and two overseers had sought to tear Xinkui and her companions apart.

But in the few minutes since Yang Hao’s arrival, everything had changed.

Kanling and Shi Mingyuan stared at Yang Hao in stunned silence, thinking, *What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao didn’t feel he had done anything extraordinary. The secrets he now knew surpassed the bounds of this universe.

Landing with the axe slung over his shoulder, he stood before Overseer Rongzhe.

The once-arrogant elder now stood humbled, not even daring to muster the courage to resist.

To him, Yang Hao was now a god—just like the Supreme One.

And who would dare defy a god?

In Rongzhe’s heart, a lament arose.

The era of the Supreme One’s sole divinity, established for centuries, had finally come to an end today.

In this universe, there was no longer only one god.

Because Yang Hao had become a new god.

*”After my godhood, another shall rise.”*

These were the Supreme One’s own words, now fulfilled.

From this day forth, the glory of the universe, all worship, would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He now possessed the power to do so.

This was the age of twin gods.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xin Kui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soars in the highest skies.

A smile curled at Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge toward her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously—ruthlessly, mercilessly. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed. Only the wielder could perish.

As Xin Kui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end had come. Yet sorrow filled her face, and suddenly, she began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world—not even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was divine, as though Xin Kui’s voice were merely a vessel for its ethereal, sacred resonance. It made her glow with an angelic beauty.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a hymn Xin Kui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

And as the song echoed, her silver axe—once a lifeless weapon—suddenly stirred to life.

People could clearly sense it—within that silver axe, five restless souls writhed in agitation.

The two deacons, Rong Zhe and Hei Feng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flame Bow of Yan Rong*—the so-called greatest divine artifact in existence, which sealed a single divine soul within it, granting it unparalleled power.

But if this silver axe contained *five* souls…

The moment this thought struck them, Hei Feng and Rong Zhe lunged forward, attempting to seize the axe before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and in an instant, countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to dodge in time—their bodies were shredded into bloody mist before they could even scream.

“Bastard!!” Hei Feng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two deacons and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s elite force. Yet against mere mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had been annihilated without even leaving corpses behind. Even if they retrieved the silver axe now, such a devastating toll would be impossible to justify.

Hei Feng was beyond enraged. His killing intent surged like a tidal wave as he and Rong Zhe attacked together. The remaining six elders, not daring to hold back, unleashed their full power, barely managing to suppress the silver axe.

And this was only because the axe wasn’t in the hands of someone stronger. A greedy thought flashed through Hei Feng’s mind—if *he* could wield this weapon, with his peak Saint-level strength, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps not even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment while others were distracted, Hei Feng thrust his finger toward Xin Kui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xin Kui was already at her limit. As Hei Feng’s elongated, pale finger shot toward her, its curled nail gleamed with razor-sharp light.

But Xin Kui didn’t dodge—or perhaps she simply lacked the strength to.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Hei Feng. But the elders wouldn’t let this chance slip—two heavy palm strikes landed on Kan Ling’s back, forcing blood from her lips as her internal organs ruptured.

Hei Feng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kan Ling’s spear. But his killing strike never wavered—it continued straight toward Xin Kui’s heart.

It seemed nothing could stop it now.

Yet Xin Kui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as though waiting for a savior to descend.

“No one can save you,” Hei Feng snarled.

Then—

The air suddenly scorched.

The clear sky turned crimson.

Though the mountains and stones remained unchanged, the very essence of the world had shifted.

The planet itself hadn’t transformed, yet its environment had undergone a thousand metamorphoses in an instant—as though someone had dragged multiple stars before this nameless world in the blink of an eye.

And then—

Flames.

All-consuming, all-devouring flames erupted.

“Ha!” Xin Kui laughed, her eyes finally alight with satisfaction.

As the goddess laughed, everything around them ignited in impossible fury. The fire seemed to exist within the very air—when the scorching wind touched flesh, flames burst forth as though sown into existence.

The entire planet turned red.

Except for Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan—everything else burned.

The first to fall into this infernal purgatory were the hundreds of thousands of Holy Disciples. Weak and unprepared, they were the first to face the endless flames. In moments, their bodies were engulfed, their screams silenced as fire consumed them from within.

From high above the planet, one could see hundreds of thousands writhing, clawing at their own skin in a futile attempt to extinguish the flames. But soon, they stopped moving—because the fire had already devoured their organs, reducing them to piles of ash.

The remaining elders near Xin Kui fared no better. They seemed to receive special attention—massive fireballs rained from the sky, forcing them to abandon Xin Kui and focus on survival.

Even the two deacons had to retreat, leaping through the flames to avoid being burned.

Hei Feng’s eyes widened in terror as he pointed at Xin Kui and shrieked, “It’s not you! It’s not you—it’s… it’s…!”

Of course it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even at her full strength, this goddess wouldn’t possess such power.

Following Xin Kui’s unwavering gaze toward the heavens—

A man wreathed in crimson clouds descended, his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Hei Feng felt as though he were losing his mind. Of all people, why did *he* have to appear?

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe inwardly groaned. After the battle at the Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void. According to the Supreme One, even if Yang Hao survived, he would have lost half his strength—never to regain his former power.

Thus, Hei Feng and the others had believed no one in the universe could surpass them.

But now—

Yang Hao, dressed in plain clothes like an ordinary man, was anything but ordinary.

Because divine radiance shimmered around his body.

And in his eyes—flames roared. Wherever his gaze fell, new fires ignited in the air.

Hei Feng recognized this divine aura all too well. Before, only the Supreme One had possessed it.

This was the mark of ascension—proof that Yang Hao was no longer a mortal, no longer a peak Saint, but a true god, like the Supreme One.

An oppressive divine might emanated from Yang Hao. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine pressure—and the six found themselves paralyzed, their strength utterly drained.

Under Yang Hao’s divine suppression, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm, powerless to resist.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to scattered ashes in the wind.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. They couldn’t fathom how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so overwhelmingly powerful, rivaling even the Supreme One’s might from the past.

This was a level of strength they could only worship from afar.

“Why? *Why?!*” Hei Feng howled as he leaped through the flames.

“Were *you* the one trying to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Hei Feng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t have become this strong!!” Hei Feng’s hair was disheveled, his robes half-burned, his entire body resembling a charred corpse.

The shock was too much for Hei Feng. As a deacon elder, he had trained for centuries to reach peak Saint-level strength. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in what felt like moments.

“Hei Feng,” Yang Hao said coldly, “you are already within my Divine Domain. How can you still speak of impossibility?”

With a flick of his finger, Yang Hao tore open space itself—unleashing a flaming spatial vortex right before Hei Feng.

Hei Feng screamed, barely escaping with his life after expending every ounce of his strength.

“Divine Domain… Divine Domain!!!” Rong Zhe trembled, frozen in place.

“Indeed,” Yang Hao said calmly. “This is *my* Divine Domain. I have turned this planet into my domain—so you may experience the full might of my *Flame Domain*.”

After comprehending the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a Divine Domain truly was—a realm where a god reshaped the rules of reality to their advantage.

Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now did the same.

This nameless planet had become his domain, with the *Law of Flames* as its supreme rule. The Holy Disciples couldn’t escape the fire—not even the elders could defy the spatial laws Yang Hao had imposed.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe, despite being deacon elders, were no exception. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s rules, they had no chance of survival.

Then—Hei Feng thought he found a way.

The silver axe in Xin Kui’s hand—that divine artifact was clearly no weaker than the *Flame Bow of Yan Rong*. If Xin Kui could wield it against a dozen Saint-level experts, then in the hands of a peak Saint like Hei Feng…

Perhaps he could defeat Yang Hao.

The moment this thought struck him, Hei Feng lunged—ignoring the flames searing his flesh—straight for Xin Kui, intent on seizing the axe.

But Xin Kui had anticipated this. With renewed strength, she smirked and hurled the silver axe into the sky—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Great Gods!” Xin Kui shouted. “*The Axe of the Divine Kings!*”

Yang Hao reached out—and the axe flew into his grasp as though recognizing its true master.

The moment Yang Hao gripped the axe, a tremendous transformation overtook him.

His hair lengthened, spreading like needles. His power surged violently, intensifying the heat of the entire Divine Domain, making the flames even more ferocious.

His eyes gleamed with silver light.

And behind him—six pairs of ethereal wings flickered into existence.

Xin Kui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao looked exactly like the Dark Angel King, Sa’an.

But in this world, Sa’an no longer existed.

Unaware of the artifact’s true nature, Yang Hao raised the axe with both hands—

And swung.

The blade carved through the air, unleashing a brilliance so dazzling it seemed to carry away an entire era.

Hei Feng, standing in the distance, was cleanly sliced into seven pieces before he could even scream.

The wind stilled.

The flames vanished.

Like a true deity, Yang Hao descended from the sky.

On this planet, mere minutes ago, hundreds of thousands of enemies had clamored for Xin Kui’s death. Twenty elders and two deacons had sought to tear her apart.

But in the few minutes since Yang Hao’s arrival—everything had changed.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan stared at Yang Hao in stunned silence, thinking, *What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao didn’t feel he had done anything extraordinary. The secrets he now understood surpassed the very universe itself.

Landing with the silver axe resting on his shoulder, he strode toward Rong Zhe.

The once-arrogant deacon elder now stood in disheveled defeat, not even daring to meet Yang Hao’s gaze.

In Rong Zhe’s heart, a lament echoed—

The Supreme One’s era of sole divinity, which had lasted centuries, had finally ended today.

For in this universe, there was no longer only one god.

Because Yang Hao had ascended.

*After my godhood, another shall rise.*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had come to pass.

From this day forth, the universe’s glory and worship would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He now possessed the power to do so.

This was the age of dual gods.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that it wasn’t Xin Kui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King, Sa’an—the god-king who forever soars in the highest skies.

A faint smile curled on Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge at her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had none. As long as she held that silver axe in her palm, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously—ruthlessly, mercilessly. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xin Kui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end was near. Yet, sorrow filled her face as she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world, nor even in this universe. It was newly born.

The melody was like divine music, flowing through Xin Kui’s voice—ethereal, sacred, transforming her into something angelically beautiful.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*, a harmony Xin Kui could only release by burning her own life force, note by note.

And as the song echoed, her silver axe came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon suddenly pulsed with vitality. People could clearly sense five restless souls writhing within it.

The two elders, Rong Zhe and Hei Feng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Blazing Bow*—the legendary divine artifact said to be the mightiest in existence, sealed with the soul of a god.

If this silver axe contained five souls…

The moment the thought struck them, Hei Feng and Rong Zhe lunged forward, attempting to seize the axe before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to evade in time, their bodies shredded into bloody mist in an instant.

“Bastard!!” Hei Feng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two elder overseers and twenty saint-level elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet, against mere mortals, they had suffered such catastrophic losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had perished without leaving intact corpses. Even if they reclaimed the silver axe, such devastation would be impossible to justify.

Hei Feng’s killing intent surged uncontrollably. He and Rong Zhe attacked together, while the remaining six elders poured out their full strength, barely managing to suppress the silver axe.

But the axe had yet to be wielded by someone stronger. Greed flickered in Hei Feng’s heart—if he could claim this weapon, with his saint-level peak power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment, Hei Feng thrust a finger toward Xin Kui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xin Kui, already at her limit, didn’t—or couldn’t—dodge.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Hei Feng. But the elders seized the opportunity, striking Kan Ling’s back with devastating force, causing her to vomit blood as her organs ruptured.

Hei Feng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kan Ling’s spear. His killing strike remained unswerving.

It seemed nothing could save Xin Kui now.

Yet, her gaze remained fixed on the sky—as if awaiting a savior to descend.

“No one can save you,” Hei Feng sneered.

Then, the air turned scorching.

The once-clear sky darkened into crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged, an undeniable shift permeated the world.

The planet itself hadn’t altered, yet its environment transformed in an instant—as if someone had dragged stars before this nameless world.

And then, flames erupted, engulfing everything.

“Ha!” Xin Kui laughed, her eyes alight with satisfaction.

As the goddess laughed, the world around her ignited. The impossible inferno seemed to exist within the very air—wherever the scorching wind touched flesh, fire bloomed.

The entire planet turned red.

Only Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else burned.

The first to fall into the inferno were the hundreds of thousands of holy devotees—weak in power, yet the first to face the endless flames. In moments, they writhed, clawing at their bodies, desperate to extinguish the fire consuming them.

But soon, they moved no more. The flames had already devoured them from within, reducing them to piles of ash.

The remaining elders fared no better. They seemed singled out—massive fireballs rained from the sky, forcing them to abandon Xin Kui and defend with all their might.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping through the flames to avoid being scorched.

Hei Feng trembled in terror, pointing at Xin Kui. “It’s not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!!!”

Of course, it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even at her full power, she could never wield such divine might.

Following Xin Kui’s gaze, a man descended—cloaked in crimson clouds, his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Hei Feng felt as if he were losing his mind. Of all people, why did it have to be this demon?

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe cursed inwardly. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void. By the Supreme One’s words, even if Yang Hao survived, he should have been crippled, never to regain his former strength.

Yet here he stood—dressed in plain clothes like an ordinary man, yet radiating the unmistakable glow of a divine domain.

And in his eyes burned flames—wherever his gaze fell, new fires ignited in the air.

Hei Feng recognized this divine aura all too well. Before, only the Supreme One had possessed it—the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

Yang Hao was no longer human, no longer a mere saint-level peak.

He had become like the Supreme One—a god.

Divine majesty pulsed from Yang Hao’s body. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine pressure, rendering them immobile, their power utterly drained.

Under his might, the elders were like ants beneath a giant’s palm—utterly helpless.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. They couldn’t fathom how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so overwhelmingly powerful, rivaling even the Supreme One’s former might.

This was a level they could only worship.

“Why?! Why?!” Hei Feng howled as he leaped through the flames.

“Were you the one trying to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Hei Feng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t be this strong!!” Hei Feng’s hair was disheveled, his robes half-burned, his entire body resembling a charred corpse.

The shock was too much. Hei Feng, an elder overseer who had trained for centuries to reach saint-level peak, now faced a man who had surpassed him in mere moments.

“Hei Feng, you stand within my divine domain. How can you still deny what’s before you?” Yang Hao said coldly. With a flick of his finger, he tore open space, summoning a flaming vortex before Hei Feng.

Hei Feng screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine domain… Divine domain!!” Rong Zhe trembled, frozen in terror.

“Indeed. This planet is now my divine domain. A perfect place for you to experience the might of my Flaming Domain,” Yang Hao said calmly.

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a divine domain truly was—a realm where a god reshaped reality to their will.

Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now wielded the same power.

He had made this nameless planet his domain, with the essence of fire as its supreme law.

The devotees couldn’t escape the flames. Even the elders couldn’t defy the rules Yang Hao had set.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe, despite being overseers, were no exception.

Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s laws, none could survive.

Then, Hei Feng thought he found a way—or so he believed.

The silver axe in Xin Kui’s hand.

That divine artifact, no weaker than the *Blazing Bow*, had allowed Xin Kui to fight a dozen saint-level elders. If Hei Feng, a saint-level peak, wielded it…

Perhaps he could defeat Yang Hao.

Without hesitation, Hei Feng lunged, ignoring the flames searing his flesh, desperate to seize the axe from Xin Kui.

But Xin Kui anticipated him. With renewed strength, she smirked and hurled the axe into the sky—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” she shouted. “The *Axe of the Divine Lords*!”

Yang Hao reached out, and the axe flew into his grasp as if recognizing its true master.

The moment he gripped the weapon, a transformation overtook him.

His hair lengthened, spreading like needles. His power surged violently, intensifying the heat of the divine domain, amplifying the inferno.

His eyes gleamed with silver light, and behind him, six pairs of spectral wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xin Kui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao resembled none other than the Dark Angel King, Sa’an.

But in this world, Sa’an was no more.

Unaware of the artifact’s true nature, Yang Hao raised the axe with both hands.

“HAH!!!”

The blade cleaved through the air, unleashing a brilliance so radiant it seemed to carry away an entire era.

Hei Feng, standing in the distance, was split into seven clean pieces by the overwhelming force.

The wind stilled. The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity.

On this planet, mere minutes ago, hundreds of thousands of enemies had clamored for blood. Twenty elders and two overseers had sought to tear Xin Kui and her companions apart.

But in the span of Yang Hao’s arrival, everything had changed.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan stared at him, awestruck.

*What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao didn’t consider his deeds extraordinary. The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing with the arrogance of a conqueror, he stood before Rong Zhe, the once-mighty overseer now reduced to a cowering wreck.

The man who had once been untouchable now lacked even the courage to resist.

To Rong Zhe, Yang Hao was no different from the Supreme One—a god.

And in his heart, Rong Zhe lamented.

The age of the Supreme One’s sole divinity, spanning centuries, had ended today.

For in this universe, there was no longer only one god.

Yang Hao had become a new god.

*”After my godhood, there shall be another.”*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had become reality.

From this day forth, the universe’s glory and worship would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He now possessed the power to do so.

This was the age of twin gods.

Yang Hao had become a new god.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, what divine power truly means.

How could these ordinary mortals know that it wasn’t Xin Kui who wielded those two divine axe strikes, but the Dark Angel King Sa’an—the eternal god-king who soars in the highest heavens.

A faint smile curled at Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge toward her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that didn’t mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously—ruthlessly, mercilessly. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. So they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xin Kui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end was near. Yet sorrow filled her face, and suddenly, she began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not exist in the mortal world—not even in this universe. It was something entirely new.

The melody was divine, as if celestial music flowed through Xin Kui’s voice. Its ethereal, sacred quality made her glow with an angelic beauty.

This was the *Soulsong of the Gods*—a hymn Xin Kui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

And as the song echoed, her silver axe awakened.

The lifeless weapon suddenly pulsed with vitality. Everyone could sense it—within that silver axe, five restless souls writhed in agitation.

The two elders, Rong Zhe and Hei Feng, jolted in realization. They thought of the *Flamefury Bow*—the legendary divine artifact said to be the mightiest in existence, sealed with the soul of a god.

But if this silver axe contained *five* souls…

The moment the thought struck them, Hei Feng and Rong Zhe lunged forward, desperate to seize the axe before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to evade in time—their bodies were shredded into bloody mist in an instant.

“Bastard!!” Hei Feng bellowed in fury.

Their force had consisted of two elder overseers and twenty saint-level elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet against a handful of mortals, they had suffered such devastating losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had been annihilated without even leaving corpses intact. Even if they reclaimed the silver axe now, such a catastrophic defeat would be impossible to justify.

Hei Feng’s killing intent surged. He and Rong Zhe attacked in unison, while the remaining six elders poured their full strength into suppressing the silver axe.

And yet, the axe remained unclaimed by a stronger wielder. Greed flickered in Hei Feng’s heart—if *he* possessed this weapon, with his saint-level pinnacle power, who in this world could oppose him?

Perhaps even the Supreme One…

Seizing the moment, Hei Feng thrust a finger toward Xin Kui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xin Kui was already at her limit. She didn’t—or couldn’t—dodge as Hei Feng’s claw-like finger, glowing with sharp energy, pierced toward her.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling roared, ignoring the two elders beside her as she lunged at Hei Feng. But the elders seized the opportunity, striking Kan Ling’s back with devastating force. Blood sprayed from her mouth as her organs ruptured.

Hei Feng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kan Ling’s spear. His killing strike never wavered—it was aimed straight at Xin Kui’s heart.

All seemed lost.

Yet Xin Kui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as if waiting for a savior to descend.

“No one can save you now,” Hei Feng sneered.

Then—

The air turned scorching. The once-clear sky burned crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged, everyone sensed it—*something* had shifted.

The planet itself hadn’t transformed, but its environment had. In an instant, it was as if multiple stars had been dragged into orbit around this nameless world.

And then—fire.

All-consuming, all-devouring flames erupted.

“Ha!” Xin Kui laughed, her eyes alight with triumph.

As the goddess’s laughter rang out, everything around them ignited. The inferno seemed to exist within the very air—wherever the scorching wind touched flesh, fire bloomed.

The entire planet turned red.

Only Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else burned.

The first to fall were the hundreds of thousands of devout followers—their feeble strength no match for the endless flames. In moments, they were reduced to ash, their bodies writhing in agony before collapsing into charred husks.

From high above, the planet’s surface resembled a sea of fire, dotted with countless blackened corpses.

The remaining elders fared no better. They seemed singled out—massive fireballs rained from the sky, forcing them to abandon Xin Kui and focus on survival.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping through the flames to avoid immolation.

Hei Feng’s eyes widened in terror as he pointed at Xin Kui. “It’s not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!”

Of course it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even at her full power, she could never wield such divine might.

Following Xin Kui’s gaze, a figure descended from the heavens—wreathed in crimson clouds, his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Hei Feng felt his sanity fraying. Of all people, why did it have to be *him*?

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe exchanged despairing glances. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void. By the Supreme One’s own words, even if Yang Hao survived, he should have been crippled—never to regain his former strength.

Yet here he stood—dressed in plain robes like an ordinary man, yet radiating the unmistakable glow of a divine domain.

And in his eyes, fire blazed. Wherever his gaze fell, new flames ignited in the air.

Hei Feng recognized that divine aura all too well. Before today, only the Supreme One had possessed it—the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood.

Yang Hao was no longer human. No longer just a saint-level pinnacle.

He had become a god—just like the Supreme One.

A faint divine pressure emanated from Yang Hao. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine might—and they found themselves paralyzed, their power utterly drained.

Under Yang Hao’s pressure, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm—utterly helpless.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. They couldn’t fathom how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so *terrifyingly* strong. His power rivaled the Supreme One’s at his peak—a level they could only worship from afar.

“Why? *Why?!*” Hei Feng howled as he leaped through the flames.

“*You* tried to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Hei Feng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t be this strong!!” Hei Feng’s hair whipped wildly, his robes half-burned, his body resembling a charred demon.

The shock was too much. Hei Feng had spent centuries cultivating to reach saint-level pinnacle. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in what felt like moments.

“Hei Feng,” Yang Hao said coldly, “you stand within *my* divine domain. How can you still speak of impossibility?”

With a flick of his finger, Yang Hao tore open space itself—unleashing a vortex of flames before Hei Feng.

Hei Feng screamed, barely escaping with his life.

“Divine domain… Divine domain!!” Rong Zhe trembled, frozen in terror.

“Correct. This planet is now my domain. A perfect place for you to experience the might of my *Flame Domain*,” Yang Hao said calmly.

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao understood divine domains. They were realms where a god reshaped reality to their will—just as the Supreme One had done at Elder Mountain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands.

Now, history repeated itself. Yang Hao had turned this nameless planet into his domain, with fire as its supreme law. The devout followers couldn’t escape the flames—nor could the elders defy the rules of Yang Hao’s creation.

Even Hei Feng and Rong Zhe, as overseers, were trapped. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s laws, there was no escape.

Then Hei Feng saw his chance—or so he thought.

Xin Kui’s silver axe. A divine artifact rivaling the *Flamefury Bow*. If *he* wielded it, with his saint-level pinnacle strength, perhaps he could defeat Yang Hao.

Ignoring the flames licking at his body, Hei Feng lunged for the axe.

But Xin Kui anticipated him. With renewed strength, she smirked and hurled the axe into the sky—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Prime Gods!” Xin Kui shouted. “*The Axe of the Prime Gods!*”

Yang Hao reached out, and the axe flew into his grasp as if recognizing its true master.

The moment his fingers closed around the weapon, a transformation swept through him. His hair lengthened, spreading like needles. His power surged violently, intensifying the heat of his divine domain, amplifying the inferno.

Silver light gleamed in Yang Hao’s eyes. Behind him, six pairs of ethereal wings flickered in and out of existence.

Xin Kui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao resembled none other than the Dark Angel King Sa’an himself.

But Sa’an was gone.

Unaware of the axe’s true nature, Yang Hao gripped it with both hands and swung.

The blade unleashed a radiance so magnificent, it seemed to carry away an entire era in its wake.

Hei Feng, caught in the path of this godly strike, was cleanly severed into seven pieces.

The wind stilled. The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity. In mere minutes, he had annihilated hundreds of thousands of enemies, twenty elders, and two overseers who had sought to tear Xin Kui apart.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan could only stare, their thoughts echoing: *What kind of man is this?*

Yet Yang Hao felt no pride. The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing before Rong Zhe, he rested the axe on his shoulder with effortless arrogance.

The once-feared overseer stood broken, his defiance extinguished. Before him was no longer a man, but a god—equal to the Supreme One.

In Rong Zhe’s heart, a lament arose: *The Supreme One’s era of sole divinity, spanning centuries, ends today.*

For now, the universe had more than one god.

Yang Hao had ascended.

*”After my godhood, another shall rise.”*

The Supreme One’s prophecy had come true.

From this day forth, the universe’s glory and worship would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He had the power.

This was the age of twin gods.

Let these mediocre mortals witness what a god is, what divine power truly means.

The mediocre mortals could never know that the two divine axe strikes did not come from Xin Kui, but from the Dark Angel King Sa’an, the eternal god soaring in the highest skies.

A faint smile curled on Xin Kui’s lips as she watched the remaining twelve elders charge at her once more. She no longer had the strength or the will to resist.

But that did not mean the divine race had abandoned her. As long as she held that silver axe in her hand, the radiance of the gods would forever envelop her.

The twelve elders struck simultaneously—ruthless, merciless. They had seen the fate of their comrades and knew the consequences of underestimating the woman before them. Thus, they attacked in unison, determined to obliterate Xin Kui in a single strike.

After all, divine artifacts could not be destroyed—only the wielder could perish.

As Xin Kui faced the blinding white light before her, she knew her end was near. Yet, sorrow filled her face as she suddenly began to sing a melody.

No one had ever heard this song before. It did not belong to the mortal world, nor even to this universe—it was something entirely new.

The melody was divine, as if channeled through Xin Kui’s voice. Its ethereal, sacred tones made her appear as radiant as an angel.

This was the “Soul of the Gods Hymn,” a song Xin Kui could only unleash by burning her own life force, note by note.

As the song echoed, her silver axe suddenly came to life.

The once-lifeless weapon pulsed with vitality. People could clearly sense five restless souls stirring within it.

The two overseers, Rong Zhe and Hei Feng, jolted in realization. They thought of the Flaming Bow—the so-called greatest divine artifact in existence, which sealed a single divine soul within it, granting it immense power.

But if this silver axe contained five souls…

The mere thought sent Hei Feng and Rong Zhe lunging forward, desperate to seize the axe before its power erupted.

But they were too late.

The spirits within the axe roared, and countless spatial vortices tore open around it. At least six elders failed to evade in time, their bodies shredded into bloody mist in an instant.

“Bastards!!” Hei Feng bellowed in fury.

Their squad had consisted of two overseers and twenty elders—nearly a fifth of the entire Elder Council’s might. Yet, against mere mortals, they had suffered such devastating losses.

In the blink of an eye, eight elders had been annihilated without a trace. Even if they retrieved the silver axe now, such a catastrophic defeat would be impossible to justify.

Hei Feng’s rage burned uncontrollably. His killing intent surged as he and Rong Zhe attacked together, while the remaining six elders poured every ounce of their strength into suppressing the silver axe.

And this was without the axe being wielded by a stronger master.

Greed flickered in Hei Feng’s eyes. If he could claim this weapon, infuse it with his peak Saint-level power, who in this world could oppose him—save for the Supreme One?

Perhaps even the Supreme One himself…

Seizing the moment, Hei Feng thrust a finger toward Xin Kui’s heart, aiming to erase her soul and claim the divine artifact for himself.

Xin Kui, already at her limit, did not—or could not—dodge as Hei Feng’s elongated, pale finger, its curled nail gleaming sharply, pierced toward her.

“Xin Kui!!!” Kan Ling roared, disregarding the two elders beside her as she lunged at Hei Feng. But the elders seized the opportunity, striking Kan Ling’s back with devastating force, causing her to vomit blood as her organs ruptured.

Hei Feng sneered, flicking his sleeve to deflect Kan Ling’s spear. His killing strike remained unswerving, aimed straight at Xin Kui.

It seemed nothing could save her now.

Yet Xin Kui’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, as if awaiting a savior to descend.

“No one can save you,” Hei Feng sneered.

Then—

The air abruptly scorched. The once-clear sky turned crimson. Though the landscape remained unchanged, an undeniable shift had occurred.

The planet itself had not altered, yet its environment transformed in an instant—as if multiple stars had been dragged before this nameless world in the blink of an eye.

Flames erupted, consuming everything.

“Ha!” Xin Kui laughed, her eyes alight with satisfaction as she gazed skyward.

With her laughter, the world around them ignited. The impossible inferno seemed to exist within the very air—when the scorching wind touched flesh, flames burst forth.

The entire planet turned red.

Only Xin Kui, Kan Ling, and Shi Mingyuan remained untouched. Everything else burned.

The first to fall into the inferno were the hundreds of thousands of zealots. Weak and unprepared, they were engulfed instantly, their bodies writhing as flames devoured them from within.

From above, they resembled countless blackened husks, their ashes scattering in the wind.

The remaining elders fared no better. They were singled out—massive fireballs descended from the sky, forcing them to release Xin Kui and focus on defense.

Even the two overseers had to retreat, leaping through the flames to avoid being scorched.

Hei Feng trembled in terror, pointing at Xin Kui. “It’s not you… It’s not you! It’s—it’s—!!!”

Of course, it wasn’t Xin Kui. Even at her full power, she could never wield such divine might.

Following Xin Kui’s unwavering gaze, a man wreathed in crimson clouds descended—his face cold, his aura thick with killing intent.

“Yang Hao!!!” Hei Feng felt his sanity slipping. Of all people, why did it have to be this demon?

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe cursed inwardly. After the battle at Elder Mountain, the Supreme One had struck Yang Hao into the void. By the Supreme One’s own words, even if Yang Hao survived, he should have been crippled, stripped of his former strength.

Yet here he stood—dressed in plain clothes like an ordinary man, yet radiating the unmistakable glow of a Divine Realm.

And in his eyes, flames burned. Wherever he looked, new fires ignited in the air.

Hei Feng recognized this divine aura all too well—it was the mark of a mortal ascending to godhood. Only the Supreme One had possessed it before.

Yang Hao was no longer human, no longer a mere Saint-level expert.

He had become a god—just like the Supreme One.

A faint divine pressure emanated from Yang Hao. When the six elders tried to resist the fireballs, Yang Hao unleashed his divine might, rendering them immobile, their power utterly drained.

Under his pressure, they were like ants beneath a giant’s palm—utterly helpless.

With a mere tilt of his chin, Yang Hao reduced them to dust.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. They could not fathom how Yang Hao had grown so strong—so terrifyingly powerful, rivaling even the Supreme One in his prime.

This was a level they could only worship from afar.

“Why?! Why?!” Hei Feng howled as he leaped through the flames.

“Were you the one trying to kill them?” Yang Hao’s furious gaze locked onto Hei Feng. “Old man, we meet again.”

“Yang Hao!!! Impossible! You can’t have grown this strong!!” Hei Feng’s hair was disheveled, his robes half-burned, his entire body resembling a charred corpse.

The shock was too much. Hei Feng, an overseer who had trained for centuries, had only reached the peak of Saint-level. Yet Yang Hao had surpassed him in mere moments.

“Hei Feng, you stand within my Divine Realm. How can you still deny what’s before you?” Yang Hao said coldly, flicking a finger as if tearing space itself.

A flaming vortex erupted before Hei Feng.

With a shriek, Hei Feng barely escaped using every ounce of his strength.

“Divine Realm… Divine Realm!!!” Rong Zhe muttered in awe.

“Indeed. This planet is now my Divine Realm. Enjoy the flames of my domain,” Yang Hao said calmly.

Having grasped the laws of space, Yang Hao understood what a Divine Realm truly was—a god’s ability to rewrite the rules of their surroundings, bending reality to their will.

Just as the Supreme One had once turned Elder Mountain into his domain, effortlessly slaughtering thousands, Yang Hao now did the same.

He had made this nameless world his own, decreeing fire as its supreme law.

The zealots could not escape the flames. Even the elders could not defy the rules Yang Hao had set.

Hei Feng and Rong Zhe, despite being overseers, were no exception. Unless they shattered Yang Hao’s laws, they were doomed.

Suddenly, Hei Feng saw a glimmer of hope—or so he thought.

Xin Kui’s silver axe.

That divine artifact, no less formidable than the Flaming Bow, had allowed Xin Kui to hold off over a dozen Saint-level experts. If Hei Feng, a peak Saint, wielded it, he might stand a chance against Yang Hao.

Without hesitation, Hei Feng lunged, ignoring the flames licking at his body as he reached for the axe.

But Xin Kui anticipated his move. With a cold laugh, she hurled the silver axe into the air—straight toward Yang Hao.

“A gift from the Five Great Gods!” Xin Kui shouted. “The Axe of the Divine Lords!”

Yang Hao reached out, and the axe flew into his grasp as if recognizing its true master.

The moment he gripped the weapon, a transformation overtook him. His hair lengthened, spreading like needles, while his power surged exponentially.

The Divine Realm grew hotter, the flames wilder.

Yang Hao’s eyes gleamed silver, and behind him, six pairs of spectral wings flickered into existence.

Xin Kui stared in awe. In this moment, Yang Hao resembled none other than the Dark Angel King Sa’an himself.

But Sa’an was no more.

Unaware of the axe’s true nature, Yang Hao raised it high.

“HAH!!!”

The blade split the air with a brilliance that seemed to carry away an entire era in its wake.

Hei Feng, standing in the distance, was cleanly severed into seven pieces.

The wind stilled. The flames vanished.

Yang Hao descended like a deity.

In mere minutes, everything had changed. The tens of thousands of enemies, the twenty elders, the two overseers—all who had sought to tear Xin Kui apart—were gone.

Kan Ling and Shi Mingyuan could only stare, their thoughts echoing:

“What kind of man is this?”

Yet Yang Hao did not see his actions as extraordinary. The secrets he now knew transcended this universe.

Landing before Rong Zhe, he rested the axe on his shoulder with an air of dominance.

The once-arrogant overseer now stood humbled, devoid of even the courage to resist.

In Rong Zhe’s heart, a lament arose:

The Supreme One’s era of sole divinity, spanning centuries, had ended today.

The universe no longer bowed to a single god.

For Yang Hao had ascended.

“After my godhood, another shall rise.”

The Supreme One’s prophecy had become reality.

From this day forth, the universe’s glory and worship would no longer belong to the Supreme One alone.

Yang Hao would reshape this era.

He now possessed the power to do so.

This was the age of twin gods.

Yang Hao would change this era.

He already possessed the power to do so.

This was the age of two gods…