Hunyuanzi continued, “Forget about one cartload; in your lifetime, you probably won’t even come close. Even my master, who has lived for a thousand years, is seeing this for the very first time today.”
“So precious?” Yang Hao was genuinely startled. He turned again to look at the flame, and indeed sensed something extraordinary about it. No matter how violently the surrounding flames surged and flared, the Primordial Flame remained calm and unmoved at its spot, like a lotus blooming untainted from the mud—serene, elegant, and quietly dignified.
Such a treasure rendered even the arrogant nuclear flames mere background, as if the entire sky’s battle had existed solely to herald its appearance.
“The Primordial Flame has always been a legend—an ultimate goal pursued by forgers and alchemists alike,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Though there are many types of fire in this world, they all share the same nature. Even with varying strengths, they’re merely categorized as true fire or triple-samadhi fire and such. But the Primordial Flame is different—it is the ancestor of all flame, the origin of every fire. It contains the essence and power of all flames.”
“So powerful!” Yang Hao’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Does our Dan Ding Sect have any pills that utilize the Primordial Flame?”
“No,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Because our founding ancestor never believed anyone could actually find it. Beings like this flame’s progenitor are practically extinct in this world—only they might find you, but you could never find them.”
“Then how can we let this slip away?” Although Yang Hao wasn’t exactly sure how it could be used, something this rare was definitely not to be abandoned. However, the situation was growing increasingly dire. Nuclear flames were closing in from all sides, and the Titan ship itself had begun its self-destruct sequence, likely due to accumulated energy reaching critical levels. If Yang Hao and the others didn’t escape soon, they wouldn’t last much longer.
“The Primordial Flame is an essential ingredient for forging top-tier weapons,” Amanda surprisingly knew its use, proving her family’s reputation as engineering elites wasn’t just for show. “But how do we take it with us?”
Though disregarding the surrounding danger, she had a valid point. The Primordial Flame gleamed within the nuclear fire, suggesting its temperature was in the thousands of degrees. It wouldn’t be easy to carry it off—just touching it might burn right through a person’s hand. This title of “ancestor of all flames” was no idle boast.
“I have a way,” Hunyuanzi, ever the one to provide solutions at critical moments, said. “Take out your force barrier belt and form a gravitational barrier—like a gravitational bubble—and inject some of your true energy into it. Then we should be able to contain the Primordial Flame inside.”
With the master’s assurance, the apprentice naturally followed suit. Yang Hao seized a moment when the flames parted and darted down, opening the force barrier belt and placing it in his palm, then injecting a large amount of true energy into it. Instantly, the belt formed a spherical force barrier field. Yang Hao seized his chance, swiftly enclosing the Primordial Flame within, successfully capturing it.
“Great! With this, I can forge a weapon for you,” Amanda beamed with excitement upon seeing Yang Hao successfully trap the Primordial Flame.
Seeing Amanda still willing to help him despite the perilous situation, Yang Hao was deeply moved. It reminded him of how, back at school, only Amanda had ever stood by him like this.
Just then, a sudden thought struck him.
“Wait a minute—if we used the belt to contain the Primordial Flame, then we no longer have a gravitational barrier, right?” Yang Hao’s concern was valid. The speed at which he could fly on his sword even exceeded light speed. The heat generated during that flight would be unbearable, not to mention the explosive forces upon breaking the sound and light barriers. Without the protection of a gravitational shield, he and Amanda wouldn’t survive even a short journey through space.
“Well…” his master admitted, “I didn’t think that far ahead. My old age is really acting up again—especially after sacrificing myself to save you. I’ve got early-onset dementia and Parkinson’s to boot. It’s been absolutely pitiful…”
Though the explanation was pitiable, Yang Hao couldn’t bring himself to blame him. However, the surrounding situation was worsening. They were essentially standing on a massive powder keg, and who knew when the ship—already ignited—would unleash its final explosion? In such an explosion, even the entire hull might be obliterated, let alone a few people like them.
Yet escaping without a gravitational barrier was practically impossible.
In other words, between the Primordial Flame and their own lives, they had to make a choice.
Yang Hao gazed longingly at the cold, diamond-like brilliance in his hand. At this point, survival had to come first. But Amanda tightly gripped Yang Hao’s hand, refusing to let him discard the Primordial Flame—as if she were ready to risk her life for this treasure.
Just as Yang Hao was about to make his decision, another force barrier belt suddenly appeared above them. This belt was standard issue from the Empire, bearing the distinctive insignia of a purple sword embroidered on it. It descended from a rupture overhead, clearly being pulled by someone trying to rescue Yang Hao.
The nuclear flames below roared upward, ready to engulf them. With no time to think, Yang Hao grabbed the belt and shot up through the rupture.
There stood someone—
But the moment Yang Hao saw who it was, he felt a headache coming on. If it weren’t for Amanda being beside him, he might have preferred to jump back down and face the nuclear fire than be rescued by this person.
Unbothered by the danger, a smiling face greeted Yang Hao—it was none other than Ling Ziyang, the squad leader of Mingse and owner of Lingfei Star Sea.
Ling Ziyang had clearly escaped with several Mingse experts, flying away from the fleet, yet somehow she had returned and now saved Yang Hao and the others.
Ling Ziyang paid no heed to Yang Hao’s grim expression. She casually moved closer, fastening the belt around herself and Yang Hao. A pale blue force barrier quickly enveloped all three of them.
“Still not leaving?” Ling Ziyang shouted. “Do you really want to die here?”
There was no time for Yang Hao to refuse now—the explosion had already erupted beneath his feet, like a primordial beast trembling within the wreckage of the Titan ship. The massive shockwave was already making it impossible for Yang Hao to stand steady.
The sword flared with dazzling brilliance once more, and the three of them shot out like a meteor from the Titan ship, now fully engulfed in flames and explosions.
By the time the vast cosmos was truly illuminated by the eerie orange-yellow glow of the apocalyptic fire, Yang Hao and the others were already far away in the distant stars.
Behind them, the most spectacular war scene of this era was drawing to a close. The Imperial fleet, symbolizing the Empire’s might, was now succumbing to its final doom amidst a series of endless explosions. The night sky of the universe was lit up so brightly it seemed like a lightning bolt piercing through the ages.
And that lightning bolt was about to strike the weak and decaying body of the Galactic Empire.
The battle of the Three Crystal Seas, known as the “Dual Suns” conflict, ended with the complete defeat of the Imperial forces and a decisive victory for the Anti-Empire Alliance. Though, in the context of the Empire’s military history, this was a relatively minor setback—merely the loss of a fleet, not a crippling blow.
Yet the shockwaves from this battle far exceeded expectations. The Dual Suns campaign was like a hurricane shaking the Empire’s decaying foundations. Even the most ordinary Imperial citizens could now see that the Empire’s fortune was on the wane.
Another consequence of the battle was that Yang Hao finally stepped onto the political stage of the Galactic Empire. If previously he had been just a minor figure gaining attention, now even the Senate’s spies, the Privy Council, the Emperor himself, and even influential merchant factions were closely watching his every move.
The name “Dual Suns” came from Yang Hao’s dreadnought, the Doomsday, and the annihilated Sunset Fleet. It was said that the Emperor himself had chosen the name. The veteran Emperor, who had rarely tasted defeat in his military career, reportedly read the Privy Council’s battle report and simply chuckled three times without anger.
That laughter echoed through the vast palace halls, sending chills down the spines of the courtiers present. Yet no one could fathom what the Emperor, who ruled over a vast empire, was truly thinking.
Meanwhile, the Senate had already deployed its spies to monitor Yang Hao—perhaps even earlier than the Emperor had learned of the battle. Before the shockwaves of the Three Crystal Seas system had settled and the smoke had yet to clear, the Senate’s Executive Elders had already convened a meeting with the other eight executives to discuss the matter.
The Galactic Senate was a topic shrouded in secrecy even within the Empire. Few outside the highest echelons of its various departments truly understood it. Yet every citizen knew it was akin to a sacred temple, where the Elders were like immortals—appearing and disappearing at will, capable of killing silently with a mere gesture. The Emperor had granted the Senate dominion over all the oceans of Earth, allowing these Elders to appear on any island at any time.
Those with insider knowledge feared the Senate even more. They knew the Elders possessed overwhelming power—any low-ranking Elder could casually kill thousands with a flick of the wrist. The Ten Sword Schools, renowned as elite martial sects, were merely the disciples and descendants of a few Elders. Moreover, the Elders controlled secret intelligence networks, and even the Emperor himself was a disciple of the Senate’s Chief Elder.
Such a mysterious and powerful institution rarely convened all nine Executive Elders for any matter. Yet for a mere young man, Yang Hao, this was already their second meeting.
“That kid sure has good luck,” Elder Heifeng gently stroked his hand. Though aged, his palms remained dry and warm—still capable of wielding a sword. Yet his famed “Gravity Sword,” well known to the world, was now in Yang Hao’s possession. “His skills improve every month. Before long, he might come knocking on our door.”
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