This battle plunged both Cangqiong Tianyun and Xinghuo Xunyi into a grueling struggle, unlike any of their previous eight matches where they had never been pushed to such limits.
Cangqiong Tianyun possessed an exceptionally rare physique even among his peers, and his close-combat attacks were ferociously brutal. After receiving guidance from masters like Pavilion Master Jiangfu, his physical prowess and melee combat had reached a level comparable to the fifth floor of the Star Tower. Yet, he had a glaring weakness—his movement speed was severely lacking. In past battles, many genius cultivators had surpassed him in agility, and this flaw kept his overall strength capped at the peak of the fourth floor of the Star Tower.
Against other opponents, Cangqiong Tianyun had a simple strategy: long-range attacks.
A single punch, even from a distance, was often enough to defeat them.
But Xinghuo Xunyi was different.
Xinghuo Xunyi’s ancient cultivation illusionary realm was extraordinary. Though Cangqiong Tianyun could endure it, the illusions constantly distracted him, weakening his combat effectiveness. The most devastating technique was *Bubble Annihilation*—its destructive power was immense. Three consecutive bubbles overlapping could genuinely damage Cangqiong Tianyun’s vitality. One after another, the bubbles enveloped him. He furiously shattered them, but each time, their destruction also wounded him.
Worse, the bubbles also had a restraining effect.
His long-range attacks couldn’t break the bubbles, and he couldn’t close the distance to Xinghuo Xunyi. Thus, he was forced into a war of attrition.
“Break! Break!” Cangqiong Tianyun roared, madly smashing the endless stream of bubbles. The illusions were relentless, making him feel suffocated. Occasionally, he would lash out, his arm elongating to strike at Xinghuo Xunyi, only for new bubbles to descend upon him.
Xinghuo Xunyi was cautious.
In his berserk state, Cangqiong Tianyun’s attacks were too ferocious—one solid hit would force Xinghuo Xunyi to activate his protective treasures, resulting in defeat.
“His body is just too strong,” Xinghuo Xunyi thought, feeling the strain. *Bubble Annihilation* was his strongest technique, requiring his full effort to unleash three world bubbles simultaneously. Yet even that barely harmed his opponent. Such physical resilience was downright monstrous.
Throughout the battle, Xinghuo Xunyi remained vigilant, never allowing Cangqiong Tianyun to get close.
Cangqiong Tianyun, like a primordial beast, dared not enlarge his body further—doing so would weaken his defenses. Maintaining his normal size ensured peak resilience. He occasionally extended his arms in desperate attempts to strike.
After what felt like an eternity,
Cangqiong Tianyun, his vitality steadily draining, finally conceded defeat.
“I lost,” he muttered inwardly. “I must find a way to improve my movement speed.”
His focus had always been on *Twelve Calamities Cosmic Body*, an unparalleled warrior-system technique obtained through a fortuitous encounter. This art pursued an indestructible, supremely defensive physique, with extreme emphasis on defense. While it granted immense offensive power with every motion, it severely hampered agility—a flaw inherent to the technique.
“Pavilion Master Jiangfu, General Tianguang, Elder Dongbo—they all advised me to cultivate supplementary systems to compensate,” Cangqiong Tianyun reflected. Ten thousand years was too short; he needed more time. Once he overcame this weakness, he would undoubtedly reach the fifth-floor level of the Star Tower.
“Cangqiong Tianyun, I never imagined your body could be this formidable. I’m impressed,” Xinghuo Xunyi said sincerely. His father, *Xinghuo Divine Emperor*, was renowned not only for his mastery of flames but also for his physique, which ranked among the ninth floor of the Star Tower. Xinghuo Xunyi himself had trained in the bloodline system, making his body relatively strong.
But compared to Cangqiong Tianyun, he paled.
He knew Cangqiong Tianyun must possess an extraordinary technique, but what did that matter? As a core member of a sacred land, Xinghuo Xunyi had access to countless cosmic-level techniques. Yet, in the end, it was the cultivator’s own effort that determined success.
“I admire you more,” Cangqiong Tianyun replied. “To improve so much in just ten thousand years—I accept my defeat wholeheartedly.”
—
Though Xinghuo Xunyi and Cangqiong Tianyun, the two brightest stars of this Star Conference, conversed as they stepped down from the arena,
The Chaos Realm sovereigns on the high platform couldn’t help but glance at the white-robed youth seated at the edge of the five master instructors’ seats. They all knew that Dongbo Xueying’s name would soon spread among the Chaos Realm sovereigns—his performance had been nothing short of dazzling.
And there were still many mysteries surrounding him.
Xinghuo Xunyi, with his illustrious background—how had Dongbo Xueying propelled him from rank 3,600+ in the preliminary selection to the champion of the finals in just ten thousand years? It was unbelievable.
“Dongbo Xueying,” a cold voice called.
Dongbo Xueying turned.
The distant Five Marsh Serpent Ancestor remained expressionless, but his gaze held a subtle shift. “Congratulations. The disciple you chose, Xinghuo Xunyi, has taken first place.”
“It was his own comprehension that achieved this,” Dongbo Xueying replied with a smile. He knew that for the aloof Serpent Ancestor to offer congratulations was rare indeed.
The Serpent Ancestor turned back to observe the proceedings below.
The 200 geniuses were recuperating, with the severely injured receiving treatment from experts arranged by the Star Conference.
Soon,
They began ascending the Star Tower one by one to challenge its trials.
Their performance in the finals, their two attempts at the Star Tower, and their interactions with the master instructors over the next ten thousand years would all factor into the selection of five additional disciples by the five masters. These five, along with the top five from the finals, would form a group of ten, eligible to join any sacred land as core members and receive unparalleled guidance.
With only 200 participants, the Star Tower trials concluded swiftly.
This time, three reached the fourth floor: Xinghuo Xunyi, Cangqiong Tianyun, and Kang Yong.
169 reached the third floor, while the remaining 28 were at the second.
“Dongbo, prepare well. In ten thousand years, you’ll be giving a public lecture,” Xinghuo Divine Emperor said as they rose to depart, flying alongside Dongbo Xueying and Hall Master Wentian.
“Understood.”
Dongbo Xueying felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
The next ten thousand years would involve selecting just one more disciple—a crucial task, but not overly difficult. Then, alongside the other four masters, he would deliver a public lecture, a rare opportunity for countless weaker cultivators. After that, the conference would officially conclude.
“At the very least, I haven’t brought shame upon the Voidsky Palace,” Dongbo Xueying mused, a faint smile on his lips.
—
As the Star Conference entered its final stages, Dongbo Xueying’s name circulated among the Chaos Realm sovereigns. Meanwhile, in the Ancient Sacred World, an event unfolded that would send shockwaves through the five sacred realms of the Chaos Void.
Deep within the mountains of the Ancient Sacred World stood a humble courtyard.
*Hummm…*
A low, resonant pulse emanated from within, barely noticeable.
Yet, in an instant, the courtyard silently crumbled into ruins. The surrounding rocks and vegetation withered and collapsed—a minimal disturbance, a testament to the extreme precision of the unleashed power.
Standing amidst the ruins was Gu Qi, the silver-haired, golden-horned man. His body had fractured into hundreds of fragments, now barely held together in human form. Black light seeped from the cracks, spreading outward relentlessly. A gaping hole marred his chest.
Clutching the wound, Gu Qi glared at the figure before him.
The figure stood calmly, the very space around him bending in reverence. Though the Ancient Sacred World was crafted by the combined efforts of the Witch Ancestor and the Realm Ancestor, in his presence, the world itself submitted.
His skin was pale, his features gentle yet transcendent. Though not conventionally handsome, his visage seemed to embody fragments of the Chaos Void’s supreme laws. Gazing upon him was like beholding the highest truths—even Cosmic Gods felt an instinctive awe, as a child might before a parent.
His smile was warm, his eyes sincere—more genuine than even a devoted husband’s gaze upon his wife.
“Saintlord,” Gu Qi rasped, his voice hoarse, black light flickering in his throat. “To kill me, you’ve truly spared no effort.”
“I merely return you to the Chaos,” the Saintlord said gently. “Those who oppose me return to the void; those who submit shall serve me. When I rule the Chaos Void, I will summon you back, and you shall be utterly loyal. Then, all life shall live in harmony, like one family.”
He stepped forward, his pale, delicate hand caressing Gu Qi’s face. “I bear you no hatred, no malice. But you stood in my way, so I must send you back to the Chaos for now. Go, as if to sleep. When I call, you shall awaken.”
Gu Qi tried to retreat, but the black light had already engulfed him. His body stiffened, turning to stone. He could no longer move, not even his lips.
“Summon me? You think you can control the entire Chaos Void?” Gu Qi’s voice echoed through the void as his skin darkened into jade-like obsidian, his eyes locked onto the Saintlord.
“None can stop me. You will see that day, and you too shall be my child,” the Saintlord said, turning away.
Another figure had appeared in the distance.
The Witch Ancestor stood there, black chains coiling around him, his guard at its peak as he stared at the Saintlord.
“What I will, none may hinder. Not even you,” the Saintlord said, his gaze unwavering. “Those who oppose me, though it pains me, must return to the Chaos.”
With a final smile,
He vanished from the Ancient Sacred World as though he had never been.
The Witch Ancestor’s expression darkened. He turned to the obsidian statue that was once Gu Qi and sighed. “Gu Qi… I failed to protect you.”
The statue stood frozen, its soul solidified, its thoughts slowing to a halt.
“At least… I have a disciple now.”
“Though I never got to meet you, my apprentice.”
Gu Qi’s consciousness faded.
The black statue remained, lifeless and still, gazing into the distance.
—
Gu Qi had finally fallen to the Saintlord’s hand.
The Witch Ancestor was the first to deliver the news to Gu Qi’s master, Void Primogenitor. Stunned, the Primogenitor sat in silence for a long, long time, consumed by grief and guilt—grief for the disciple who had once roamed free, his finest pupil; guilt for his own inability to protect him.
Soon, the news spread among the supreme existences. Despite the Witch Ancestor’s intervention, the Saintlord had claimed another Cosmic God.
This time, the fallen was named Gu Qi.
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