Rejected by Dongbo Xueying, Emperor Yan felt disappointment and fury, while Emperor Wufeng was overjoyed. He knew that with Dongbo Xueying on his side, victory was almost certain—unless Emperor Yan chose mutual destruction.
“Why help him and not me?” Emperor Yan’s silver eyes glared coldly at Dongbo Xueying, suppressing his rage. “Whatever you desire, I will do everything in my power to obtain it for you.”
“Emperor Yan, stop struggling,” Emperor Wufeng sneered from the side. “Since Brother Feixue won’t help you, don’t make things difficult for him.”
Dongbo Xueying stood nearby, his gaze calm.
Seeing this, Emperor Yan understood that persuasion was futile.
“Made your decision yet?” Emperor Wufeng felt exhilarated—not just from the excitement of obtaining treasures but also from the thrill of forcing Emperor Yan to submit. After countless defeats in their long-standing rivalry, he finally had the upper hand, compelling Emperor Yan to make a choice. The satisfaction was overwhelming.
“Decision?” Emperor Yan’s scaled wings folded around him as his silver eyes locked onto Emperor Wufeng.
“Want to fight? Fine!” Emperor Wufeng’s eyes flashed with madness, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. “Let’s see how many of your elders survive this battle. At the very least, those I’ve captured will perish. After this, your rank among the Thirteen Emperors will surely drop.”
After a moment of silence, Emperor Yan spoke. “How much do you want?”
Emperor Wufeng grinned brightly. “Not much. Since I’ve captured twenty-two elders, I’ll settle for twenty-two drops.”
“Are you insane?” Emperor Yan’s expression darkened. “Twenty-two drops? Do you know how long it takes for a single drop of ‘Radiant Spirit Milk’ to condense?”
“I’m perfectly sane,” Emperor Wufeng replied. “After all these years, surely you can spare twenty-two drops. Hand them over, and we’ll leave—your captured elders returned unharmed.”
“Nine drops at most!” Emperor Yan gritted his teeth. “If you refuse, we’ll fight. On the Floating Island, we Deathblight can teleport freely. You won’t catch us, and you’ll get not a single drop!”
Emperor Wufeng’s face turned cold. “Then most of your elders will die! As for the Radiant Spirit Milk—its pool and other treasures on this island—don’t blame me if I destroy them all!”
Emperor Yan seethed with anger.
“I’ll compromise—twenty drops! Not one less!” Emperor Wufeng pretended to concede, though the reduction was minimal.
Emperor Yan’s expression soured. Glancing at Dongbo Xueying, he knew that outright defiance would lead to unpredictable consequences. In a low voice, he asked, “Emperor Feixue, if I surrender twenty drops today, can you guarantee you won’t aid Emperor Wufeng in plundering my treasures again?”
“Rest assured, the Radiant Spirit Milk is the only thing on this island worth my interest. I promise not to return,” Emperor Wufeng interjected, privately communicating with Dongbo Xueying.
“I can guarantee it,” Dongbo Xueying nodded.
Emperor Yan gave a slight nod.
Both Emperor Feixue and Emperor Wufeng were figures of great renown—their words were not easily broken.
“Fine.” Emperor Yan shot Emperor Wufeng a glance. “You’re lucky, Wufeng, to have Emperor Feixue’s aid. Otherwise, you’d never obtain these twenty drops.”
In the past, even a single drop of Radiant Spirit Milk had cost Emperor Wufeng dearly in trades with Emperor Yan—so much so that it had nearly bankrupted him.
It was no wonder Emperor Yan had demanded such high prices. Among the peak powerhouses of the Broken Tooth Mountain Range, Radiant Spirit Milk had the most miraculous effects on Emperor Wufeng’s bloodline. For other emperors, its allure was far weaker, though it still greatly benefited ordinary monarchs. Even Emperor Yan’s elders had to perform great deeds to earn a single drop.
“Swish—” Emperor Yan flicked his claws, sending twenty small vials flying forth. “Each contains one drop of Radiant Spirit Milk.”
The five Forbidden Elders behind him watched with bitter resentment.
Among them, the most fortunate had only ever received two drops in their lifetimes!
Yet today, their leader—the foremost of the Thirteen Emperors—had been forced to yield twenty drops. It was an unparalleled humiliation.
“Finally, they’re mine.” Emperor Wufeng waved his hand, drawing the vials to him. He eagerly uncorked each one, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He had waited far too long for this moment.
“Hah! Emperor Yan, you’re most generous. I, too, am not petty.” With a laugh, Emperor Wufeng released the twenty-two captured elders.
“Now that you have the milk, leave,” Emperor Yan said coldly.
“Of course, of course. Emperor Yan is in no mood for guests. Let’s not linger.” Emperor Wufeng smiled. “Brother Feixue, shall we?”
Whoosh—
The group of seven transformed into a gust of wind and swiftly departed.
Emperor Yan watched silently as his five Forbidden Elders and the twenty-two newly freed elders stood in solemn silence.
This was an unprecedented disgrace.
Among the Deathblight race, Emperor Yan ranked only below the Three Supreme Rulers. Yet today, he had been forced to submit and surrender treasures.
“Ancestor Yan, you could have teleported away and ignored their threats. Yet you stayed for our sake…”
“Without you, we would have been slain by Emperor Wufeng.”
The elders voiced their gratitude, praising Emperor Yan.
Their loyalty stemmed from the fact that his blood held immense benefits for most of them, earning their unwavering devotion.
“Enough. Emperor Wufeng will surely spread word of this humiliation, and soon the entire Broken Tooth Mountain Range will know.” Emperor Yan’s voice was icy. “But I did not lose to him—I lost to Emperor Feixue.”
With that, Emperor Yan vanished in a teleportation flash.
The remaining elders exchanged glances, aware of their leader’s foul mood, and quietly dispersed.
None harbored thoughts of revenge. Emperor Feixue was far too terrifying. The weaker among them had been forced into slumber, while the stronger had been crippled, easily subdued or captured.
—
**Wufeng World**
Emperor Wufeng returned in high spirits, even presenting Dongbo Xueying with a trove of treasures as gratitude—and to maintain their alliance. A supreme soul master capable of debilitating their foes was a game-changer.
“This is the Seven-Bell Tower.”
Emperor Wufeng, Dongbo Xueying, and the eight Divine Generals stood before an unassuming pagoda adorned with seven hanging bells. At first glance, it appeared utterly ordinary.
“Once inside, Brother Feixue need only manipulate one bell. The seven will chime in sequence, guiding you into a unique meditative state,” Emperor Wufeng explained. “However, only one avatar may enter at a time.”
“I understand. Thank you, Emperor.” Dongbo Xueying’s heart swelled with anticipation.
“Hah, it is I who should thank you, Brother Feixue,” Emperor Wufeng laughed.
Whoosh.
Dongbo Xueying’s form split, sending an avatar toward the tower. This avatar’s soul strength surged to its peak perfection, while several others weakened in response—bound by unseen rules.
Currently, across the Heart Realm Continent, three of Dongbo Xueying’s avatars maintained perfect soul states: the one guarding Feixue City, the one beneath the Burning Heart Tree, and now this one entering the Seven-Bell Tower. The rest, engaged in battles elsewhere, operated at seventy percent capacity—still more than enough. Infused with the essence of the Ten-Thousand-Touch Mother Dragon’s heartblood, his soul was exceptionally potent. Even at reduced strength, his Illusory Realm techniques flowed effortlessly, leaving room for other maneuvers.
—
**Inside the Tower**
As Dongbo Xueying stepped in, he marveled at the pagoda’s intricate design—its complex edges and angles exuding an otherworldly aura. Seated, he felt an immediate relaxation, as though his body’s grip on his soul had loosened.
“The Seven-Bell Tower—renowned as the supreme treasure for tranquil cultivation. Let’s see how miraculous it truly is.” With a thought, he gently nudged one of the bells.
“Ding-dong~~~” A melodious chime rang out.
…
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