Qin Wu clenched his fists, a strand of hair drifting down as blood trickled from his face. The sword qi had sliced his cheek, revealing crimson divine blood—glistening and radiant, like flowing scarlet mist.
“You… Fine, fine, fine!” He gritted his teeth, his body erupting in dazzling silver light, his hair standing on end. This was truly an unbearable humiliation.
“Is this what a god is?” Shi Hao strode through the void, chasing after him with a divine sword in hand.
Hearing these words, Qin Wu’s blood surged violently, rushing straight to the crown of his head, nearly bursting from his flesh. His face flushed crimson with shame and fury—how dare a mere mortal humiliate him like this?
Especially when a piece of his earlobe had been severed, nearly sliced clean off. Such disgrace was beyond words. Now, blood dripped from his ear, shimmering with silver amidst the crimson, falling drop by drop—an eerie, mesmerizing beauty.
Fury burned in Qin Wu’s heart, his face darkening. A mere mortal had dared to raise a sword against a god, wounding his pride and cutting him down, all while speaking with such arrogance. It was intolerable.
“Run,” Shi Hao called out as he pursued, his voice ethereal yet domineering. His sleeves fluttered, his battle intent soaring to the heavens, his entire being resembling an ancient primordial deity.
Qin Wu’s face alternated between green and pale. A mortal had just told him to flee—such disrespect, such contempt, such blasphemy against divinity!
Yet, he truly dared not stay. That tiny, inch-high pagoda was too terrifying, its origins too profound, enough to shake even the celestial sovereigns of the upper realm.
If he turned to fight now, death would be certain.
In truth, he wasn’t even qualified to battle that pristine little pagoda. They existed on entirely different levels—one was a true colossus of the heavens, capable of overturning the cosmos itself.
Qin Wu fled toward the Five Elements Mountain, his heart filled with resentment. The mortal had told him to run, and here he was, doing exactly that. He felt utterly humiliated, stripped of all dignity.
He had always considered himself a god, looking down upon the mortal world. For countless years, he had stood above all, revered and worshipped. Yet today, he had been reduced to such wretchedness.
“Gods are nothing special—all they know is how to flee. What’s so noble about that?” Shi Hao’s voice was cold, dripping with disdain.
Qin Wu’s eyes flickered with silver light, his essence, energy, and spirit surging violently. His hair whipped wildly as if about to combust. To be insulted like this in the lower realm—he couldn’t swallow this disgrace.
“You will pay for your arrogance!” he hissed.
“Shh—!”
Shi Hao raised his hand, the divine sword gleaming with thunderous light as he slashed forward.
This national treasure, forged from the bones of a heavenly beast, transformed into a golden lion-dragon—majestic and unyielding. It roared to the heavens, devouring the essence of sun and moon, unleashing endless bolts of lightning.
BOOM!
Rolling lightning erupted, a dazzling storm of arcs, each thicker than the last, enveloping Qin Wu.
This was divine-level power, the might of a sacred artifact—enough to evaporate rivers and lakes, flatten towering mountains. Were it not for the divine arrays of Mount Immortal, this sacred land would have been reduced to ashes.
“Smack!”
Qin Wu turned and struck back with a palm, resisting the thunderous onslaught.
Silver runes manifested between his fingers—his divine law—blocking the lightning, shattering the bolts.
“Hummm—!”
The void trembled. A great collapse ensued, silver light surging like a river through the sky, clashing violently with the lightning in a deafening explosion.
As a god, Qin Wu should have crushed a mortal in one strike. Yet here he was, forced into a struggle, unable to harm his opponent—all because of that accursed pagoda, which kept Shi Hao untouched.
Instead, golden lightning broke through, striking Qin Wu’s body. His shoulder was scorched black, his radiant hair standing on end as his body convulsed violently.
Fury consumed Qin Wu. Again and again, he suffered at the hands of a mortal, his divine dignity trampled upon. It was as if a furnace of rage had exploded within him.
“You dare blaspheme against a god? You will perish, your Dao extinguished, forever lost in the land of death!” he snarled, a strange silver halo spreading from him in ripples.
“A mere false god dares to swear by divinity? How laughable.” The little pagoda, hanging from Shi Hao’s hair, swayed slightly, releasing a wisp of aura that evaporated the silver ripples.
Those ripples had been a form of curse, a sinister force meant to cling to its victim, lying dormant until it could drag their soul into damnation.
Qin Wu’s scalp prickled. Scolded by the pagoda, he didn’t dare utter a word in retort. Though he stood proudly above mortals, even looking down on venerable beings, he feared that snow-white jade pagoda from the depths of his soul.
Qin Wu retreated, his face ashen, his heart filled with dread. For the first time, he felt true terror—fear that he might perish here.
“Where is my grandfather?” Shi Hao demanded, raising his sword to point at Qin Wu’s head.
Qin Wu’s expression twisted. He wanted to rage, but the sight of that little pagoda in Shi Hao’s hair filled him with terror. His emotions were a tangled mess—how could he, a god, submit to a mortal’s interrogation?
“This is Mount Immortal! The celestial sovereigns of the upper realm watch over this place, and the Five Elements Peaks of the lower realm suppress all. Think carefully before you act!” His voice was icy, his teeth clenched.
“Shh—!”
Shi Hao swung his sword, the blade’s radiance like a rainbow. Having come this far, what was there to fear? Even if the celestial sovereigns descended, he would have no regrets.
Today, he would tear through Mount Immortal, find his kin, and turn the world upside down!
Qin Wu’s gaze turned frigid. As a god, his pride burned. To be scorned again and again by a mortal—even if he feared the pagoda, he refused to endure this pursuit and oppression.
Silver radiance erupted from his body, his divine power surging like a river through the void, a vast expanse of white light.
But the little pagoda merely trembled, shattering the silver light. Only Shi Hao’s sword remained eternal, sweeping forward with devastating beauty.
“Thud!”
Blood flashed. Qin Wu’s arm was severed, eliciting a howl of pain. His face contorted in agony, twisting into something monstrous.
A god, suffering such torment—losing an arm! It was unthinkable. After centuries of cultivation, this was his most grievous wound yet.
Though fleeing, he exerted all his power, silver light bursting from his body as he tried to reclaim his severed limb and reattach it.
But the sword’s light severed that connection, sealing his fate—he would lose this arm forever.
Qin Wu roared, his entire body blazing. In desperation, he chose to destroy his own divine arm rather than let it fall into enemy hands—a mark of shame.
BOOM!
The arm exploded, transforming into a torrent of silver radiance that filled the heavens, like sacred flames from the celestial realm.
“Five Elements, omnipresent, unbreakable, undying—BURN!”
Qin Wu chanted a curse, a terrifying divine art laced with malice, hurling it backward. He sacrificed his own arm, hoping to cripple Shi Hao.
Yet again, it failed. The little pagoda didn’t even intervene. Instead, Shi Hao’s chest emitted a mysterious halo, its fluctuations shaking the heavens.
Within Shi Hao’s body, a surge of vitality stirred—joyous, eager, craving the silver light that had erupted.
The void rippled like a scroll under divine power. Shi Hao’s sternum glowed, chanting resonating from within. A tiny figure, no taller than a fist, sat upon a bone, drawing in boundless essence from the outside world.
The shattered arm, the burning divine blood—all transformed into streams of light, converging into a silver river that poured into Shi Hao’s chest.
Qin Wu paled. The life essence within his arm was being drained, repurposed by another.
Like a gentle stream, like sweet dew, it all gathered at Shi Hao’s chest, nourishing his supreme bone.
Qin Wu howled in fury. Though his arm had been severed and destroyed, he refused to let Shi Hao refine it.
This was humiliation. As a god, even his bones and hair were divine. How could he tolerate a mortal using him as mere nourishment?
If this were known, he would never live it down.
He activated his curse, hoping to taint Shi Hao as he refined the divine blood, dragging him into eternal damnation.
But the curse couldn’t even approach. The incantation disintegrated, the laws unable to take form. Only faint, weak halos flickered.
Shi Hao, meanwhile, felt invigorated—his spirit complete, his body brimming with power, as if floating. His bone had absorbed a substantial amount of essence.
This wasn’t devouring, but purification and refinement. The bone glowed, radiant, the tiny figure atop it shining like a miniature sun.
It inhaled essence, exhaling auspicious mist that enveloped the bone. A mysterious undulation pulsed through the void, refining the light and divine blood from the exploded arm—taking neither flesh nor bone, only the purest origin essence.
It absorbed only the arm’s innate divine power, transforming it into silver light that merged with Shi Hao’s chest, becoming dense divine energy.
In moments, the bone had absorbed every last drop of silver essence.
“Pathetic god, you’re too weak. Your divine power is pitifully thin,” Shi Hao remarked.
Qin Wu seethed. To be mocked like this by a mortal—one he had once looked down upon—was unbearable. His chest burned with rage.
Though most of the arm’s divine power had dissipated, some had been absorbed by Shi Hao. That was the most unacceptable outcome, made worse by the taunting.
“BOOM!”
Still fleeing, Qin Wu unleashed a divine law backward. Then, with a surge of divine might, he attempted to reach the Five Elements Mountain, seeking refuge.
But horror gripped him. No matter how long he flew, the mountain never seemed to draw closer. It was as if an invisible barrier kept him from reaching it.
He erupted, burning divine power, silver radiance blazing as he tried to break through. The heavens themselves seemed on the verge of collapse.
Yet, the Five Elements Mountain remained out of reach.
In the distance, two venerable beings trembled, prostrating in terror. Their clan’s god had been defeated—how could they resist? They were paralyzed with fear.
Further away, Qin Hao stood silent, clad in divine battle armor, hiding at the fringes.
Finally, Qin Wu realized—a wall of runes blocked his path, shimmering with spatial law. He couldn’t pass.
“Where is my grandfather?” Shi Hao demanded.
“He is unharmed! Alive!” Qin Wu ground out, his face dark with humiliation. Though not a direct answer, it was a reluctant concession.
“Shh—!”
At his reply, Shi Hao’s sword rose again. With a flash, blood sprayed—Qin Wu’s other arm fell.
Simultaneously, the chanting resumed. The tiny figure within Shi Hao’s chest glowed, releasing mysterious fluctuations.
The arm shattered, its purest essence absorbed by the supreme bone, filling it with vibrant vitality.
Qin Wu’s face was deathly pale. A god, reduced to nourishment for a mortal’s bone—what greater shame could there be? It was a humiliation beyond words.
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