Yang Hao kept grinning mischievously, while Lan Hu felt a tangle of emotions. She didn’t quite understand her own feelings. Glancing at the sky, she saw it change again—this time from red to black. Lan Ling said unhappily, “Who has the time to help you? But judging by this situation, it won’t be the Imperial Guards who find us—it’ll be the Elder Council members.”
“It’s already become ‘us,'” Yang Hao mused. He had intended to tease Lan Ling a bit more, but Hun Yuan Zi rushed out anxiously and barked, “Stupid disciple, death is upon you, and you’re still thinking about flirting!”
“Death? It’s just the sky turning red. Think of it as a painting,” Yang Hao replied.
“Sense what’s behind the sky,” Hun Yuan Zi said, then retreated back into the dantian to attend to his own matters.
But Yang Hao could no longer laugh.
Although Yang Hao had completely lost his inner energy and was recovering slowly, he had now passed the Froststep Cultivation Stage. He was now attuned to the entire universe, and even his inner energy was being replenished by the power of stars. If the Milky Way hadn’t already been lifeless, he might have recovered completely in a single night.
When Yang Hao extended his consciousness into the sky, he finally sensed the impending danger. This was a crisis he couldn’t control—it was a matter of life and death.
The red sky wasn’t due to light refraction—it was spatial compression.
Spatial compression naturally resulted from drastic energy fluctuations. The reason for the terrifying surge in energy in this region was that nine small planets, several light-years away, were hurtling toward them.
To be precise, those nine small planets were being hurled by an immense force. Their target was the planet where Yang Hao resided. Those nine tiny planets were like super-fast, perfectly aimed pitches thrown by a baseball pitcher, moving with incredible speed and carrying unimaginable energy.
If these ten planets collided, it wouldn’t just be Yang Hao and his companions who perished. Even this entire cosmic region would collapse into a new black hole, devouring everything due to the massive energy release.
After realizing this, Yang Hao’s expression turned grim. He finally understood how powerless Lan Ling’s silver barrier had been.
When the nest collapses, how can there be intact eggs left? If the planet and space they stood on were destroyed, how could the two of them survive?
Lan Ling clenched her teeth, her face showing grave concern. “You understand now?”
“Who could be behind this? Who could possibly manipulate planets to kill me?” Yang Hao couldn’t believe it. “Such immense power, and they’re willing to disrupt the entire star system’s natural laws?”
“Who else but the Nine Elder Council members?” Lan Ling said bitterly. “When the Overlord is away, they are the masters of this universe. They set all the operational rules. Using the Star Transformation technique to kill you is actually showing you some respect.”
“Star Transformation?”
“Star Transformation is a powerful technique of the Elder Council. Since its founding, it’s been used less than ten times,” Lan Ling explained, her beautiful face filled with worry. “To perform the Star Transformation, all nine Elder Council members must work together at full strength. They can manipulate stars to deliver a devastating blow. Now those nine planets have probably already exceeded the speed of light, determined to collide with our planet and destroy everything.”
“They want to kill me, but why go to such extremes?” Yang Hao laughed bitterly. “Don’t they know a single finger could crush me?”
“Because of me,” Lan Ling said. She looked at the increasingly dark sky, which resembled a dried-up clot of black blood. “Every Imperial Guard member has a tracking chip implanted in their body, so the Imperial Guards will come to retrieve us soon. The Elder Council wants to kill you before the Imperial Guards arrive. Their only option is to use the Star Transformation to smash the planets together, leaving nothing behind.”
“Are they even willing to sacrifice you?”
“What am I?” Lan Ling’s eyes flashed with icy coldness. “The Elder Council would even sacrifice the Emperor. What am I compared to that?”
The two fell silent. The immense power of the Star Transformation was drawing closer and closer. Even the air carried an uneasy energy. The surrounding green grass began to wither, flowers had long vanished, and even the lake water started to surge violently.
The sky grew darker, to the point where one couldn’t even see the lines on their palm. Yang Hao used the dim red light to admire Lan Ling’s face.
This woman was truly extraordinary. Sometimes she seemed as innocent as a child, yet when danger approached, she remained as calm as still water. On her beautiful face, there was no sign of blaming Yang Hao for dragging her into this peril. Instead, everything seemed perfectly natural.
“Can we escape?” Yang Hao made up his mind.
Lan Ling had already considered this. She lazily twirled her silver spear. “You don’t have a shred of power left, and I’ve lost at least half of mine. At most, only one person could escape. But we don’t have gravity belts now. Even if the Star Transformation doesn’t kill us, we’d suffocate in space.”
She glanced at Yang Hao and smirked. “Forget it. I’ll stick around and die with you. You’re getting off easy.”
Yang Hao and Lan Ling gazed at each other. Under the dark red, blood-like sky, it felt as if the entire world had drifted away, leaving only the two of them bound together by an unspoken determination.
A day ago, they had been two powerful figures from opposing sides, destined to kill each other on sight. But now, facing ultimate destruction, they had become as one.
Yang Hao sighed and asked, “If we really had the chance, would you stay on this planet with me?”
Lan Ling hesitated and looked away. “I… I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Yang Hao said, slightly disappointed.
“Maybe,” Lan Ling lowered her head, her face turning red—redder even than the sky. “It’s… possible.”
Back on Earth, Lan Ling was known as the most beautiful woman in the Imperial Capital, her beauty renowned far and wide. Even Princess Xuan Lan and Ling Ziyun considered themselves inferior. Yet no noble had ever dared to propose marriage to her, for she was famously known as the Ice Beauty, an outstanding young martial artist. Anyone who dared to harbor improper thoughts about her would find a silver spear at their throat the next moment. Even a whisper of slander would result in the Snow Night Star Lion Squad razing their home within a day.
But today, Lan Ling didn’t want to reject Yang Hao. Perhaps it was because they were both about to die, or perhaps the image of Yang Hao catching fish by the lakeside, surrounded by green waters and endless skies, was something she truly longed for. She lifted her head, boldly meeting Yang Hao’s gaze, and said firmly:
“Yes. If there’s a chance, I will.”
Yang Hao was surprised. He looked at Lan Ling for a while, then absentmindedly raised his hand and gently touched her pointed chin. The contact between his fingers and her soft skin felt like a flame igniting between them.
Lan Ling’s face flushed red. She didn’t stop Yang Hao’s bold move, not even when his fingers traced over her lips, sending a sensation as soft as the wind through her, nearly making her tremble.
But Yang Hao’s fingers placed two pills into her mouth.
The two pills dissolved instantly. A sweet wine-like flavor flowed down Lan Ling’s throat, and suddenly, something strange happened. She felt a fresh breeze flowing inside her body, a breeze that even seemed to provide oxygen for her organs, so much so that she no longer needed to breathe.
Startled, Lan Ling was about to ask a question, but Yang Hao’s finger pressed against her lips.
“Shh,” Yang Hao smiled weakly. “These are called Lingxiao Pills. They’re the first pills I ever created. They can generate oxygen inside your body, so even in outer space, you won’t need to breathe. With your cultivation, you should be able to withstand cosmic radiation. Just fly out of this planet’s range, and the explosion from the Star Transformation won’t harm you.”
A hint of alarm appeared in Lan Ling’s eyes—not out of fear, but because she sensed the tone of resignation in Yang Hao’s voice.
Yang Hao didn’t give Lan Ling a chance to ask. He continued, “There are only two Lingxiao Pills. They’re just enough for you. I can’t go. Without inner energy, I can’t leave this planet. If you stay with me, you’ll only die too. I may not be good at much, but I never let a beautiful woman die with me. So…”
Lan Ling felt the warmth from Yang Hao’s fingertip. She was stunned.
Yang Hao was smiling. “So, go.”
Lan Ling didn’t speak, nor did she cry. She simply gazed at Yang Hao silently, her eyes filled with unspoken words.
Yang Hao tried not to look at her. “You think I really wanted to stay here with you? Do you think your looks make you special? I have a wife. She’s prettier and gentler than you. You’re fierce and fiery. No one would want you, not even for free.”
Such insulting words were something Lan Ling had never heard in her life. She had always been a gifted and beloved figure. But facing Yang Hao’s deliberate provocation, Lan Ling smiled. Her smile was enchanting, yet carried a natural sorrow in her eyes. Her red lips parted slightly, and Yang Hao’s finger, which had been covering her mouth, slid inside.
The soft, warm, and moist sensation instantly enveloped Yang Hao’s finger.
Helplessly, he looked at the woman before him. Truthfully, Yang Hao had been with many women, each possessing remarkable beauty. Yet this woman was the one who stirred his heart the most.
In just a short night together, without even deeper intimacy, Yang Hao already felt a deep familiarity with her, as if he could sense her thoughts.
“Take care, my friend,” Yang Hao finally said, voicing his last heartfelt words.
Lan Ling still didn’t speak. But her teeth clenched, and she bit down hard on Yang Hao’s finger.
Yang Hao closed his eyes, feeling the bone-deep pain. In his life, no woman had ever left such a deep mark on him. He even felt warm droplets flowing across his hand—tears, though he didn’t know whose.
When the pain gradually faded, Yang Hao opened his eyes again. Lan Ling was gone. In the distance, against the dark red sky, a silver light shot like a sword in another direction.
Yang Hao chuckled mischievously, while Lan Hu’s mood was complex. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. The sky had changed colors again, shifting from red to black. Lan Ling said irritably, “Who has time to help you? But judging by the situation, it’s not the Imperial Guards who will find us—it’ll be the Council Elders.”
“Already ‘us,’ huh?” Yang Hao thought to himself. He was about to tease Lan Ling some more when Hunyuanzi suddenly rushed out and scolded, “Stupid disciple! Death is at your doorstep, and you’re still thinking about flirting.”
“Death? It’s just a red sky—think of it as a painting.”
“Feel what’s behind the sky,” Hunyuanzi said before retreating back into his dantian to focus on his own matters.
Yang Hao’s smile vanished.
Though Yang Hao had lost all his qi and was recovering slowly, he had at least passed the Frostwalk Realm, connecting him to the universe. Even his internal qi was replenished by the power of the stars. If not for the lifeless state of the Milky Way, he might have recovered fully in a single night.
When Yang Hao cast his spiritual sense into the sky, he truly felt the impending crisis—one far beyond his current control. Death was indeed at his doorstep.
The red sky wasn’t due to refracted light but the compression of space.
Such compression could only be caused by an immense surge of energy. And the terrifying source of this energy lay light-years away—nine small planets hurtling toward them.
To be precise, those nine planets had been hurled with tremendous force, their target being the very planet Yang Hao stood on. Like a pitcher’s perfect fastball, they flew with unerring accuracy and unimaginable speed, carrying devastating energy.
If these ten planets collided, not only would Yang Hao and his companions perish, but the entire cosmic region would collapse into a new black hole, devouring everything in its wake.
Realizing this, Yang Hao’s expression darkened. He finally understood how feeble Lan Ling’s silver barrier had been.
*When the nest is overturned, no egg remains unbroken.* If even the planet beneath their feet was doomed, how could they survive?
Lan Ling clenched her silver teeth, her face grave. “You understand now?”
“Who’s behind this? Who can command planets to kill me?” Yang Hao couldn’t believe it. “Such power, and they’re willing to disrupt the laws of this galaxy?”
“Who else but the Nine Council Elders?” Lan Ling smiled bitterly. “With the Supreme One absent, they rule this universe. All cosmic laws are theirs to dictate. Using the *Stellar Cataclysm* to kill you is almost a courtesy.”
“*Stellar Cataclysm*?”
“It’s one of the Grand Council’s ultimate arts. Since the council’s founding, it’s been used fewer than ten times.” Lan Ling’s delicate face was clouded with worry. “To execute it, all nine elders must act in unison, hurling stars as weapons of annihilation. Those nine planets have likely surpassed light speed—they’ll collide with ours and destroy everything.”
“If they want me dead, why resort to such an extreme measure?” Yang Hao laughed bitterly. “Couldn’t they just crush me with a finger?”
“Because of me.” Lan Ling gazed at the darkening sky, now resembling a clot of dried blood. “Every Imperial Guard carries a tracking chip. The guards will retrieve us soon. The elders want you dead before that happens. The only way is to obliterate this planet entirely, leaving nothing behind.”
“They’d sacrifice you too?”
“What am I to them?” Lan Ling’s eyes turned icy. “The Council Elders would even sacrifice the emperor. Someone like me is nothing.”
Silence fell between them. The overwhelming power of the *Stellar Cataclysm* drew closer, filling the air with restless energy. The grass withered, flowers vanished, and the lake churned violently.
The sky darkened until even their own hands were barely visible. By the dim red glow, Yang Hao admired Lan Ling’s face.
This woman was extraordinary—sometimes childishly naive, yet calm as water in crisis. Her beautiful face showed no resentment for being dragged into danger. Instead, she seemed to accept it as natural.
“Can we escape?” Yang Hao made a decision.
Lan Ling had already considered it. She twirled her silver spear idly. “You have no strength left, and I’ve lost at least half of mine. At best, one of us could fly away. But without gravity belts, even if we escape the collision, the void would suffocate us.” She glanced at Yang Hao and smirked. “Lucky you—I won’t bother. I’ll just die with you.”
Their eyes met beneath the blood-red sky, as if the world had already faded away. A shared resolve bound them together.
A day ago, they had been enemies, destined to kill each other. Yet faced with annihilation, they stood as one.
Yang Hao sighed. “If there really were a chance… would you stay on this planet with me?”
Lan Ling hesitated, then averted her gaze. “I… don’t know.”
“Oh.” Yang Hao was disappointed.
“Maybe.” She lowered her head, her cheeks flushing redder than the sky. “It’s… possible.”
Back on Earth, Lan Ling had been known as the Imperial Capital’s most beautiful woman, outshining even Princess Xianlan and Ling Ziyan. Yet no noble dared court her—she was the untouchable Ice Beauty, a prodigy of her generation. A single improper thought would earn a silver spear at the throat. Even gossipers would find their homes razed by the Snowlion Knights within a day.
But today, Lan Ling didn’t refuse Yang Hao. Perhaps because death loomed, or perhaps because the idyllic scene of him fishing by the lake was something she secretly longed for. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze boldly.
“Fine. If there’s a chance… I will.”
Yang Hao was surprised. He studied her for a moment, then, almost unconsciously, reached out to touch her delicate chin. The contact sent a spark between them.
Lan Ling’s face burned, but she didn’t stop him. Even as his fingers brushed her lips—soft as a breeze—she trembled slightly.
Then Yang Hao slipped two pills into her mouth.
The moment the pills dissolved, a sweet, wine-like flavor trickled down her throat. A strange sensation followed—fresh air seemed to circulate within her body, sustaining her organs without the need to breathe.
Shocked, Lan Ling opened her mouth to speak, but Yang Hao’s finger pressed against her lips.
“Shh.” He smiled weakly. “These are *Skysoar Pills*—my first invention. They generate oxygen inside you, letting you survive in space. With your strength, cosmic rays won’t harm you. Just fly beyond this planet’s range, and the explosion won’t reach you.”
A flicker of panic crossed Lan Ling’s eyes—not fear, but recognition of Yang Hao’s resignation.
He didn’t let her speak. “There are only two pills—just enough for you. I can’t leave. Without qi, I can’t fly off this planet. Staying with me means certain death. I may not be much, but I won’t let a beauty die with me. So…”
Lan Ling stared, absorbing the warmth of his fingertips.
Yang Hao grinned. “So… go.”
She didn’t speak or cry. Her gaze, deep as water, conveyed volumes.
Yang Hao forced himself to look away. “Did you really think I’d stay with you? Just because you’re pretty? I have a wife—more beautiful and gentle than you. You’re just a shrew no one would want.”
Such insults were unheard of in Lan Ling’s life. Yet instead of anger, she laughed—a radiant, sorrowful laugh. Her lips parted slightly, and Yang Hao’s finger slipped inside.
The soft, warm wetness enveloped his fingertip.
Helpless, Yang Hao watched her. Truthfully, he’d known many women, each stunning in their own way. But none had stirred him like this.
In just one night, without even intimacy, they’d grown so attuned that he could sense her thoughts.
“Take care of my friends for me.” Yang Hao spoke his final wish.
Still silent, Lan Ling bit down hard on his finger.
Yang Hao closed his eyes, savoring the sharp pain—no woman had ever marked him so deeply. Warm droplets trickled over his hand—whether tears or blood, he couldn’t tell.
When the pain faded, he opened his eyes. Lan Ling was gone. On the crimson horizon, a streak of silver shot like a blade into the distance.
Watching the light vanish into the bloody sky, Yang Hao sighed and sat cross-legged. “Well, the heartless one’s gone. Just us now, master.”
“Hah!” Hunyuanzi scoffed. “If you’re going to play the hero, you should’ve at least bedded her first. Wasted a perfectly good beauty.”
“You know me—once I start, it’s hours before I finish. By then, the *Stellar Cataclysm* would’ve hit. No point wasting life.” Yang Hao shook his head theatrically. “Master, any plans?”
“Plans? Pah!” Hunyuanzi was in a foul mood. “You don’t even have a fart’s worth of energy left. What’s there to plan?”
“All that research, and you’ve got nothing?” Yang Hao lay back on the withered grass. “So close to the Supreme One’s body—almost killed him too.”
“Fate’s a bitch,” Hunyuanzi mused. “If we hadn’t met the Sword Spirit, we wouldn’t have gone to assassinate him. Two more realms, and you could’ve pierced his barrier. Pity.”
“No pity.”
“Why?” Hunyuanzi was puzzled.
“I’ve already sown the seeds of the Alchemy Sect.” Yang Hao relaxed, hands behind his head. “Unlike you, spending a thousand years on one disciple. I’ve got hundreds of thousands of students now—thousands of inner disciples, even the Blades of Hao. Taught them all alchemy. Given time, the Dual Path of Alchemy and Sword will rise again through them.”
“But we won’t see it.” Hunyuanzi sighed.
“Worth it.” Yang Hao’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Lan Ling will tell the Alchemy Sword Sect I went to kill the Supreme One. When those disciples grow, some will take up my mission. Everything we did on Earth was to plant these seeds.”
“Hahaha!” Hunyuanzi brightened. “That bastard thought wiping out the Alchemy Sect would secure his reign. Little did he know, after a thousand years, we’d rise from the ashes!”
“Hopefully it won’t take another thousand for the Alchemy Sect to reclaim the universe.”
Yang Hao’s expression turned solemn. This had been his ambition—the ultimate revenge. The Supreme One had worked so hard to let the Council rule the cosmos. If the Alchemy Sect ever dominated instead, it would pain him more than death.
“Disciple, do you trust me?” Hunyuanzi asked suddenly.
“Obviously.”
Hunyuanzi adopted his usual smug tone. “All that research wasn’t for nothing. I’ve finally mustered a tiny bit of my own power.”
“How tiny?” A spark of hope lit in Yang Hao. “Enough to stop the *Stellar Cataclysm*?”
“Almost.”
“How much is ‘almost’?”
“About a hundred thousand miles short.” Hunyuanzi shamelessly admitted.
“Damn it!” Yang Hao struggled to raise a middle finger.
“Hmph,” Hun Yuan Zi replied without mercy. “Even if you wanted to cherish her, you should at least have done something first. What a waste of a beautiful woman.”
“You know,” Yang Hao shook his head theatrically, “you know your disciple has extraordinary talent. It would take hours to finish the job. Before we even started, the Star Transformation would have crushed us. Why waste our lives?”
“Do you have any plans?” Yang Hao asked, lying down on the withered grass.
“Plans? What plans?” Hun Yuan Zi was in a terrible mood. “There’s not even a fart in your body. What plans could there be?”
“You’ve been researching all this time. Didn’t you discover anything?” Yang Hao asked.
“If it weren’t for fate, we wouldn’t have encountered the sword spirit and wouldn’t have gone to the cave palace to assassinate him. Originally, you rising two cultivation stages would have been enough to break his barrier. A pity.”
“Not a pity,” Yang Hao said, resting his hands behind his head, lying there relaxed. “Unlike you, I didn’t spend a thousand years just to find one disciple. I now have hundreds of thousands of nominal disciples, thousands of inner disciples, and the people of the Sword Ocean Squad. I’ve already taught them all how to refine pills. Given time, the Dual Cultivation Sect of Pills and Sword will surely be rebuilt through them.”
“But we won’t live to see it,” Hun Yuan Zi sighed.
“It’s worth it,” Yang Hao’s eyes shone with satisfaction. “After Lan Ling returns, she’ll definitely tell the Dual Cultivation Sect that I went to assassinate the Overlord. When those people grow stronger, naturally a few will inherit my mission. All we did on Earth was to plant these seeds.”
“Haha,” Hun Yuan Zi became cheerful again. “That damned fellow thought he could rest easy after wiping out the Dual Cultivation Sect, but he didn’t expect me to spend a thousand years and bring it back from the ashes.”
“I hope it doesn’t take another thousand years for the Dual Cultivation Sect to dominate the entire universe.”
Yang Hao’s expression turned solemn. This had always been his aspiration, his ideal way of seeking revenge. The Overlord had worked hard to allow the Elder Council to control the entire universe. If one day the Dual Cultivation Sect could dominate the universe, it would be far more painful to him than killing him directly.
“Disciple, do you believe in me?” Hun Yuan Zi suddenly asked.
“Of course.”
Hun Yuan Zi resumed his usual tone of self-satisfaction. “Your old master’s research wasn’t in vain. I’ve finally managed to release a tiny bit of my own power.”
“A tiny bit? How much is that?” Hope rose in Yang Hao. “Can it stop the Star Transformation spell?”
“Just a little short.”
“How short?”
“About ten thousand miles short,” Hun Yuan Zi shamelessly said.
“Damn it!” Yang Hao raised his middle finger with effort.
“If… you trust me, let me take control of your physical body,” Hun Yuan Zi said after a pause, his voice faint. “With the last bit of power I can muster, I will hurl your Yuan Ying into the universe. Perhaps… perhaps it will keep your Yuan Ying from dissipating. Just hold onto a single breath of Yuan Qi, and drift through the cosmos for a while. You might recover a portion of your strength.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Yang Hao interrupted abruptly. “You’re saying you’ll launch my Yuan Ying out into space? What about my body?”
“You should be happy to save your Yuan Ying at all. Don’t expect to keep your body. Of course, your physical form will belong to me, your master,” Hun Yuan Zi snapped dismissively.
Yang Hao hesitated, a slight sting in his nose. He understood what Hun Yuan Zi meant. The old man wanted to use his final breath of life-preserving Yuan Qi to save Yang Hao’s Yuan Ying, while Hun Yuan Zi himself would perish along with the body under the onslaught of the Celestial Transformation.
“Even without a body, your Yuan Ying can drift in the universe until you recover some of your strength,” Hun Yuan Zi chuckled. “Actually, you’re better off than me in my younger days. Give it a few months, and half your life will return.”
“What about you?”
“Me?” Hun Yuan Zi’s voice boomed. “Who am I? A peerless expert of the Dan Ding Sect, someone who has even reached the level of a scattered immortal. Life has been so lonely for me—do you really think anyone can kill me? Perhaps I can even survive the Celestial Transformation alone. What are those elders and stewards? Just a few insignificant grasshoppers.”
“Grasshoppers?” Yang Hao thought bitterly. In the divine realm, perhaps Hun Yuan Zi wouldn’t fear the elders and stewards, but now was a completely different story. He was sealed inside Yang Hao’s body, unable to unleash his formidable power even if he possessed it.
The sky had already darkened, and in the farthest reaches, nine glowing objects were rapidly approaching. Those nine planets had transformed into unstoppable fireballs, becoming meteors of immense mass, so massive that they dragged smaller satellites along with them.
The planet where Yang Hao stood had already become lifeless; the previous signs of life had vanished, and now even the air had thinned. Though Yang Hao was helpless, he faced death bravely, nonchalantly crossing his legs and defiantly retorting to his master, “I’ve made my decision.”
“Decided what?”
“I’ve decided not to trust you,” Yang Hao shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Just now, I thought it through carefully and realized you don’t seem like a good person at all. From the moment you crawled into my body, you never had good intentions. A thousand-year-old ghost like you crawling into the body of a peerless beauty like me—what could you possibly want? It must be for body theft and rebirth. You’ve schemed all along to take my body. Fortunately, I’ve kept a close eye on you, foiling your evil plans. And now, you finally found your chance, hehe.”
“Hehe nothing,” Hun Yuan Zi grumbled.
“You think I’ll just give up my body and let you have it easy, old ghost? Not a chance,” Yang Hao resolved, closing his eyes and preparing to sleep.
“I wouldn’t want your stinking body even if you gave it to me.”
“Not a chance I’d give it to you anyway. I’ll protect my virgin body to the death,” Yang Hao declared firmly, standing tall and resolute.
Hun Yuan Zi trembled slightly. He realized his apprentice had finally grown up. This time, he would have to die alongside him.
The nine stars in the sky drew closer, transforming from nine dazzling silver points into radiant fireballs. The distance they had already covered was immeasurable, and no one knew how much longer it would take before they struck.
Sometimes, death itself isn’t terrifying—it’s the waiting for death that truly unnerves.
As Yang Hao and Hun Yuan Zi resigned themselves to fate, a sudden figure emerged from a distant thatched hut. An old man, with white hair and beard, wearing white robes, his eyebrows so long they could pass for a mustache, stepped out with a casual gait, exuding an air of eccentric grace from the seemingly empty hut.
“Mon… monster,” Yang Hao gaped. That house was his cozy hideaway with Lan Ling for one unforgettable night, and he hadn’t noticed any old man living there.
“If… if you trust me, let me take control of your body.” Hunyuanzi was silent for a moment before speaking in a low voice, “I’ll use the last bit of power I can muster to hurl your Nascent Soul into the cosmos. Maybe… just maybe, I can keep your Nascent Soul from dissipating. As long as you retain a wisp of vitality, drifting through space for a while might allow you to recover some of your strength.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Yang Hao abruptly interrupted. “Hurl my Nascent Soul out? What about my body?”
“Be grateful if you can even keep your Nascent Soul alive. Don’t even think about your body. Of course, your body will be left to me, your master.” Hunyuanzi snapped impatiently.
Yang Hao froze for a moment, his nose tingling slightly. He understood what Hunyuanzi meant—this old man intended to use his last remaining life-saving energy to save Yang Hao’s Nascent Soul. As for Hunyuanzi himself, he would inevitably perish under the *Stellar Cataclysm* along with Yang Hao’s body.
“Even though you’ll lose your body, and your Nascent Soul will have to drift through space until you recover your strength, it’s still much better than what I went through back in the day.” Hunyuanzi chuckled darkly. “After a few months, you might regain half your life.”
“What about you?”
“Me?” Hunyuanzi puffed up proudly. “Who do you think I am? A peerless master of the Alchemy Sect, someone who once reached the level of a Loose Immortal. Life is so lonely—who could possibly kill me? Maybe I can withstand the *Stellar Cataclysm* all by myself. Those Elders are nothing, just a few insignificant bugs.”
“Bugs?” Yang Hao inwardly scoffed. Back in the Divine Realm, Hunyuanzi might not have feared the Elders’ methods, but now things were completely different. Sealed inside Yang Hao’s body, even his supreme power was useless.
The sky had already darkened, and in the far distance, nine shimmering objects were hurtling toward them at terrifying speed. Those nine celestial bodies had transformed into unstoppable fireballs, their mass so immense that they dragged smaller satellites along with them.
The planet Yang Hao stood on was now lifeless, its previous vitality long gone, the air thinning by the second. Though powerless, Yang Hao faced death with defiance. He crossed his legs casually and retorted, “I’ve made my decision.”
“What decision?”
“The decision not to trust you.” Yang Hao shook his head, clicking his tongue. “I just thought back carefully and realized you don’t seem like a good person at all. From the moment you wormed your way into my body, you’ve had ulterior motives. A thousand-year-old ghost, latching onto a peerlessly handsome man like me—what for? Obviously to possess me and be reborn. You’ve been scheming all along to steal my body. Luckily, I’ve kept an eye on you, foiling your plans. But today, you finally got your chance, huh?”
“Huh, my foot!” Hunyuanzi fumed.
“You want me to give up my body and let you, an old ghost, take it for free? Not a chance.” Having made up his mind, Yang Hao simply closed his eyes, ready to sleep.
“Your worthless flesh—I wouldn’t take it even if you offered.”
“Even if you wanted it, I wouldn’t give it. I’ll defend my virginity to the death!” Yang Hao declared with unshakable resolve, his expression unyielding.
Hunyuanzi trembled slightly. He knew—his disciple had finally grown up. This time, Yang Hao was determined to face death alongside him.
The nine celestial bodies in the sky drew closer, transforming from dazzling silver dots into radiant spheres. The distance they had already crossed was unimaginable, and it wouldn’t be long before they struck.
Sometimes, death itself wasn’t terrifying—what was terrifying was the waiting.
Just as Yang Hao and Hunyuanzi resigned themselves to fate, an old man suddenly emerged from a distant thatched hut. White-haired with a youthful face, dressed in flowing white robes, his eyebrows so long they could pass for a beard, he walked with deliberate steps, exuding an air of eccentric grandeur as he stepped out of the seemingly empty hut.
“A… a monster!” Yang Hao gaped. That hut was the cozy little nest he had shared with Lan Ling—there had been no sign of this old man before.
“A great monster?” Hunyuanzi was equally baffled. He hadn’t sensed this old man’s presence either. Stranger still, the old man seemed devoid of any power—completely empty, as if such a being shouldn’t exist in this world. “Where did this old demon come from? An ancient monster?”
The white-robed old man glared at Yang Hao, his gaze both stern and furious, but he said nothing. Instead, he stood solemnly beside Yang Hao and waved a hand toward the sky.
Yang Hao’s heart stirred as his spiritual sense extended into the cosmos. What he witnessed next was beyond comprehension.
The nine celestial bodies of the *Stellar Cataclysm* were charging forward with unstoppable momentum, pulverizing asteroids and dragging satellites along in their wake. But the moment the old man waved his hand, ten wormholes of varying sizes appeared in space. From them emerged at least ten battleships, forming a blockade before the nine celestial bodies.
What followed was a cataclysmic cosmic explosion, its brilliance indescribable. The radiant light from the blast would take years to reach Earth, where it would be seen as an unrepeatable marvel of the universe.
Yang Hao was dumbstruck. Ten battleships—in any galaxy, that would constitute a formidable fleet. He had felt proud just owning the *Doomsday*, a single battleship. With ten, conquering multiple star systems would be child’s play.
Yet here they were, reduced to mere cannon fodder against the *Stellar Cataclysm*.
And they still failed.
After the explosion, Yang Hao was stunned to see the nine celestial bodies still advancing relentlessly toward him, though their momentum had weakened significantly—their mass and speed halved.
Ten battleships had only managed to weaken the *Stellar Cataclysm* by half. The Elders’ attack was truly unfathomable, a testament to their determination to kill Yang Hao.
The white-robed old man seemed surprised as well. He raised his long eyebrows, shot Yang Hao an exasperated look, and waved his hand again.
This time, Yang Hao was prepared—something extraordinary was bound to happen.
Sure enough, two more wormholes appeared before the nine celestial bodies.
But what emerged from them left Yang Hao speechless, his jaw nearly hitting the ground.
Two *Death Star Fortresses*.
This was beyond absurd—Yang Hao wondered if he was dreaming. What were *Death Star Fortresses*? The Galactic Empire’s core weapons for cosmic defense, the most powerful artificial celestial bodies in existence, their entire structures forged from weaponized steel.
The Empire possessed no more than fifty *Death Star Fortresses*, all stationed at critical defensive points. Just three near the Tri-Crystal Sea were enough to deter the massive Tri-Crystal Fleet.
Their indestructibility was legendary. Yet here they were, being thrown into the fray as sacrificial pawns.
The nine celestial bodies of the *Stellar Cataclysm* remained undeterred, colliding with the *Death Stars* in a cataclysmic clash of steel against cosmic force—humanity’s pinnacle of technology versus nature’s raw power.
Even from a great distance, Yang Hao felt the air tremble with violent energy, the ground beneath him growing scorching hot. Beyond the atmosphere, the fundamental laws governing celestial motion were disrupted. Though the explosions raged on, the very fabric of the star system had been altered, hastening its collapse by billions of years.
Yang Hao’s mind reeled. He had finally witnessed true power. The swordsmanship and alchemy he once revered paled in comparison to this cosmic might—the power to reshape star systems, to accelerate the death of entire galaxies in an instant.
If one could wield such power, how different would they be from a creator god?
Yet even the *Death Star Fortresses* couldn’t stop the *Stellar Cataclysm*. The nine celestial bodies emerged victorious from the galaxy-altering explosion, though their momentum had waned to less than a tenth of their initial force. Still, if even *Death Stars* couldn’t halt them, what could?
The white-robed old man seemed troubled. He gritted his teeth, sighed deeply, and finally waved his hand one last time toward the sky.
The crimson hue of the heavens vanished abruptly, as if swept away by an unfelt gale, leaving behind only clear skies. The light from the explosions hadn’t yet reached them, so the world remained bathed in sunlight. But beyond it all, the truth—perhaps destined to remain unknown—was already rushing toward them.
The Elders’ *Stellar Cataclysm* had never failed. The combined might of their ultimate technique could rival even the Supreme One—let alone lesser beings.
Using it against Yang Hao had been overkill from the start.
But now, that overkill had met its match.
With the old man’s final wave—a gesture almost like a farewell—an enormous black hole appeared before the nine weakened celestial bodies. Spanning nearly half the star system, it swallowed dozens of derelict planets, including the nine from the *Stellar Cataclysm*. Light, explosions, all traces of the collision—everything was erased without a trace.
The black hole flickered briefly before vanishing into the cosmos.
The vast, silent universe returned to its usual tranquility. In this nameless star system, aside from the missing planets, no one would ever know what had transpired.
No one would know that two of the most terrifying forces in existence had clashed here in a battle that shook the heavens—a battle so immense, yet decided in an instant.
Yang Hao felt insignificant, dwarfed beyond measure. The last time he had felt this way was in the Divine Realm, witnessing the might of the gods.
But this wasn’t the Divine Realm. Yang Hao gazed at the white-robed old man with reverence. The old man no longer sighed, but his face still bore a look of miserliness, as if the recent battle had merely cost him some money.
“So… Immortal Elder?” Yang Hao put on his most ingratiating smile. “Are you taking disciples? Consider me.”
“Ugh!” Hunyuanzi raised a scornful middle finger.
“You’re Yang Hao?” The old immortal frowned, tugging at his eyebrows. “Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost me? Can you even repay it?”
“I’m rich!” Yang Hao thumped his chest. “I’m one of the Ten Great Directors of the Merchant Guild. Just name your price—I can arrange any amount!”
“Spending other people’s money, huh?” The old immortal smirked. “Don’t bother flattering me. I have no combat skills to teach you.”
“But what about just now?” Yang Hao gestured wildly at the sky, still struggling to process what he had witnessed.
“I don’t possess the kind of power you’re imagining. Solving crises doesn’t always require divine arts or martial skills. Summoning a few fleets, opening a few black holes—that’ll do the trick.” The old man sighed. “Luckily, you only offended the Elders. If the Supreme One had acted, even throwing the entire star system at him wouldn’t have saved you.”
“The Supreme One is that powerful?” Hunyuanzi couldn’t help but ask.
The old immortal lowered his gaze, smiling bitterly. “If the Supreme One were to appear now, his power would be beyond our comprehension.”
Yang Hao puffed his cheeks. Though the idea was terrifying, the Supreme One still felt distant to him. If he could learn the old man’s fleet-summoning technique, even if he couldn’t defeat the Elders, he could at least ensure his survival.
“Just who are you?” Yang Hao finally blurted out.
The old immortal grinned slyly. “Still asking? Weren’t you looking for me all along?”
“Looking for you?” Yang Hao blinked. He hadn’t been searching for anyone recently. After a long pause, he ventured cautiously, “Wait… are you Shi Mingjuan?”
“Who’s Shi Mingjuan?” The unexpected answer left even the old immortal dizzy.
“My wife!” Yang Hao grinned, reaching out to tug at the old man’s long eyebrows, testing if they were real.
The white-haired old man shot Yang Hao a glare, fierce and angry, but said nothing. Instead, he stood solemnly beside Yang Hao and waved his hand toward the sky.
Yang Hao’s heart stirred. He extended his spiritual sense into the cosmos, only to witness a scene so wondrous it defied description.
The nine small planets of the Celestial Transformation were charging forward irresistibly, reducing all asteroids and small satellites in their path to dust or dragging them along toward Yang Hao’s planet.
But the moment the old man waved his hand, ten wormholes of varying sizes appeared in the cosmos, and at least ten battleships emerged one after another, positioning themselves in front of the nine planets.
What followed naturally was a cataclysmic cosmic explosion, emitting indescribable brilliance. These dazzling lights might reach Earth years later, becoming a spectacle of the universe, unmatched and unforgettable.
Yang Hao was stunned. Ten battleships—enough to form a formidable attack fleet in any star system. Yang Hao himself felt proud owning just one, the Doomsday-class battleship End of Days. With ten, he could conquer several star systems.
Yet now, they were merely cannon fodder to block the Celestial Transformation.
And not even effective cannon fodder.
After the explosion, Yang Hao was shocked to find the nine planets hadn’t been annihilated. They continued flying toward him relentlessly, though their power had significantly diminished—both their mass and speed reduced by at least half.
Ten battleships could only halve their energy. The Celestial Transformation unleashed by the Nine Elders was truly unfathomable. It was evident they were determined to kill Yang Hao at all costs.
The white-haired old man also seemed surprised. He raised his long eyebrows, glared at Yang Hao again with bushy eyebrows twitching, and waved his hand toward the sky once more.
This time, Yang Hao was mentally prepared, knowing something strange would happen in the cosmos.
Sure enough, two wormholes appeared in front of the nine planets.
But what emerged from the wormholes left Yang Hao speechless, his jaw nearly dropping to the ground.
It was… two Death Star Fortresses.
This was simply too outrageous. Yang Hao began to doubt whether he was dreaming. What were Death Star Fortresses? They were the core weapons of the Galactic Empire’s cosmic defense lines. As the most powerful artificial planets in the universe, Death Star Fortresses were almost entirely constructed from steel and weaponry.
The Galactic Empire possessed no more than fifty Death Star Fortresses, all stationed along strategically important defense lines. For instance, merely placing three of them along the Three Crystal Sea could prevent the massive Three Crystal Sea Fleet from making any rash moves.
Their durability and indestructibility were legendary. Yet now, two of them appeared as mere cannon fodder.
The nine planets of the Celestial Transformation remained unmoved, charging forward with thunderous might to collide head-on. This was a clash between steel and cosmic nature, a confrontation between humanity’s millennia of technological achievement and the most powerful force of nature.
Even from a great distance, Yang Hao felt a tearing disturbance in the air, and the entire ground grew hot and scorching. Beyond the spatial layer, the rules governing asteroids and planetary movements had undergone violent changes. While the explosions continued to ripple outward, the star system itself had undergone fundamental alterations. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before this entire system collapsed, its demise accelerated by hundreds of millions of years.
Yang Hao felt his mind drifting into a daze. He had finally witnessed true power. All the sword techniques and alchemy he had once revered seemed insignificant in the face of such colossal explosions.
What now lay before him was the great power of the universe itself, the power of the stars. It could alter the entire star system’s operation in an instant, aging and destroying any corner of the cosmos in a flash.
If a person could wield such energy, how would they differ from a Creator?
Yet even the Death Star Fortresses couldn’t stop the Celestial Transformation. The nine planets emerged victorious from this star system-altering explosion. When they reappeared, blazing with fire from the cosmic mist, Yang Hao truly felt the end of the world had arrived—even though the nine planets were now mere shadows of their former selves, reduced to less than a tenth of their original speed and mass. But if even Death Star Fortresses couldn’t stop them, what else could?
The white-haired old man also looked troubled. He gritted his teeth, sighed for a moment, and finally waved his hand toward the sky once more.
The red in the sky suddenly vanished, as if a wind without sensation had blown all the redness and clouds away.
The light from the explosion hadn’t reached here yet, so it was still bright and sunny. But behind all of this, an unknown truth, perhaps forever shrouded in obscurity, was already rushing toward them.
The Celestial Transformation unleashed by the Nine Elders had never failed before. The ultimate technique executed by their combined efforts was so powerful that even a Supreme might struggle to rival it, let alone anyone else.
Using the Celestial Transformation to kill Yang Hao was like using a sledgehammer to kill a chicken.
But now, even this sledgehammer had met its match.
As the white-haired old man made his final gesture, waving as if bidding farewell, a massive black hole appeared before the nine already-weakened planets.
This black hole spanned nearly half the star system, swallowing dozens of planets that had already strayed from their orbits. Naturally, the nine planets manipulated by the Celestial Transformation were also drawn in. All light, all explosions, and every trace of the previous collisions were erased without a trace.
The black hole flickered a few times before vanishing from the cosmos.
The dark, desolate universe returned to its usual calm. Within this unnamed star system, aside from the missing dozens of planets, no one could tell what had just transpired.
No one would ever know that the two most terrifying forces in the universe had engaged in a heaven-shaking confrontation within this system, a battle so powerful that its outcome was decided in an instant.
Yang Hao felt small—so small he was practically insignificant. He had only felt this way once before, when he witnessed the might of the divine beings in the divine realm.
But this wasn’t the divine realm. Yang Hao gazed at the white-haired old man with reverence. The old man no longer sighed, but his face still bore a look of stinginess, as if the previous battles had merely cost him some money.
“This… venerable immortal?” Yang Hao flashed a sly smile. “Do you take apprentices? Consider me, will you?”
“Shut up!” Hun Yuan Zi gave him the finger in disdain.
“You’re Yang Hao?” The immortal frowned, tugging at his eyebrows. “Do you know how much money you’ve cost me? Can you even afford to compensate me?”
“I’ve got money!” Yang Hao quickly patted his chest. “I’m one of the top ten council members of the Merchant Guild. Just tell me how much you need, and I can get it.”
“You’re just spending other people’s money,” the immortal scoffed. “Don’t try to flatter me. I have no martial power to teach you.”
“Then what about what you just did?” Yang Hao stammered, recalling the scene earlier. He waved his hands in the air, unsure how to describe it.
“I don’t possess the martial power you’re thinking of,” the immortal sighed. “But to resolve a crisis like this, you don’t necessarily need divine arts or martial techniques. Just deploy a few fleets, open a couple of black holes, and it’s naturally manageable.”
“Thankfully, you only angered the Elders. If it had truly been a Supreme, even if I sacrificed the entire star system, I probably couldn’t have saved you.”
“Are Supremes really that powerful?” This was the question Hun Yuan Zi wanted to ask.
The immortal lowered his gaze, smiling bitterly. “If a Supreme appeared now, their power would already be beyond our comprehension.”
Yang Hao puffed his cheeks. Though the words sounded terrifying, to him, Supremes were still distant. If he could learn the immortal’s technique of summoning fleets, even if he couldn’t defeat the Elders, at least he could ensure his own survival.
“Who exactly are you?” Yang Hao finally couldn’t help but ask.
The immortal grinned mysteriously. “You’re asking who I am? Haven’t you been looking for me all along?”
“Looking for you?” Yang Hao blinked. He hadn’t been searching for anyone lately. After thinking for a while, he cautiously asked, “Wait, could it be… you’re Shi Mingyuan?”
“Who’s Shi Mingyuan?” The unexpected answer even left the immortal momentarily stunned.
“My wife!” Yang Hao grinned, reaching out to tug at the immortal’s long eyebrows to see if they were real.
The old immortal exerted immense self-restraint to avoid summoning a black hole to suck Yang Hao away. He couldn’t possibly keep up his lofty attitude any longer; otherwise, who knew what Yang Hao might say next. The furious immortal roared:
“I am the King of Intelligent Brains! Haven’t you always wanted to meet me? Yet all you think about is women—absolutely no ambition!”
“You’re the King of Intelligent Brains?” Yang Hao’s eyes widened like eggs.
“Naturally,” the Brain King replied smugly with a laugh. “If not me, then would it be you?”
“Monster!” Yang Hao shrieked. “Isn’t the King of Intelligent Brains supposed to be a collective of intelligent brains? How could it turn into a human? You’re a monster!”
“Monster, my foot!” The Brain King smacked Yang Hao hard on the head. “If a single intelligent brain can control a spaceship, then countless brains combined together can’t create an illusion?”
“An illusion…?” Yang Hao yanked his eyebrows again, causing the old man to stomp his feet in pain. “All of this is just an illusion?”
“You are currently standing inside the United Intelligent Brain Center,” explained the Brain King. “After passing through the wormhole, you arrived directly on me. The planet you’re standing on is merely an illusion created by the United Intelligent Brain Center, shaped into whatever scenery you wish to see.”
Yang Hao’s mouth hung open in astonishment for a while before he finally understood. The place he stood upon was actually the United Intelligent Brain Center—an enormous, planet-sized intelligent brain network. This entire star system was the Empire’s top-secret Intelligent Brain System. However, the United Intelligent Brain Center had the power to display whatever scenes people desired, which was why the landscape appeared so beautifully picturesque.
“So then, you really are the Brain King?” Yang Hao exhaled deeply, finally releasing his eyebrows, his expression turning solemn. Deep inside, Yang Hao had already accepted the truth of the situation. If this person wasn’t the Brain King, who else could have resisted the technique of Stellar Expansion?
Only the Brain King, who controlled all high technology in the universe, could freely open wormholes and instantly deploy battleships or even a Death Star fortress.
If there were only a handful of people in the universe powerful enough to oppose the Senate, then the Brain King before him was certainly among them.
“So… you saw everything between me and Lan, the beautiful big sister?” Yang Hao suddenly thought of a serious matter.
“Of course! Nothing can escape the eyes of the Brain King.” The old man with the white beard grinned lecherously.
“Thank goodness… thank goodness…”
“Thank goodness for what?” The Brain King leaned closer curiously.
“Thank goodness I didn’t do anything!” Yang Hao whispered into his ear. “Otherwise, if you, you old pervert, had filmed it as a pornographic video, I’d even lose out on the royalties!”
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