Above Martial Emperor City.

  The atmosphere grew heavy. Nascent Soul elders tread the wind, hovering, robes whipping as they stared at the fiery red sword.

  Du Longyang and the ascetic arrived similarly.

  Mini-Lu, condensed from spirit fluid, sat cross-legged atop Phoenix Feather Sword—like a peerless sword immortal riding the blade.

  Du Longyang and Yuan Shang turned solemn. They'd never seen Lu's true face or clashed with his real body, but his strength was undeniable.

  "A top-grade artifact!"

  Du Longyang eyed Phoenix Feather Sword, inhaling deeply.

  Yuan Shang nodded.

  As apex experts, their discernment was keen. They'd witnessed Lu wield it before—but illusory. This real sword exceeded estimates.

  Lake Heart Island, White Jade Capital Pavilion.

  Lu leaned in his wheelchair, bronze cup in hand, lips curved. "You seized this young master's disciple to threaten me?"

  Simultaneously, mini-Lu atop the sword echoed the words.

  "Misunderstanding. This monk merely invited the benefactor to discuss contacting you."

  Yuan Shang hurried, preventing escalation.

  They needed Lu—couldn't afford rift over misunderstanding.

  Mini-Lu folded arms, brows arching.

  "Oh? Contact me? For what?"

  Du Longyang glanced at disciples below, smiling.

  "Inside."

  He drifted aside, clearing path to the inner hall.

  Yuan Shang pressed palm upright, gesturing invitation.

  Disciples and elders below gawked.

  This man ruined Du Longyang's tribulation—now a honored guest?

  Du Longyang offered no explanation—none needed.

  Mini-Lu entered the hall on the sword.

  Nie Changqing awaited, bowing oddly. "Young Master."

  Mini-Lu nodded calmly.

  "Good—progress in battle."

  Nie beamed faintly.

  "Thanks for the praise."

  Du Longyang and Yuan Shang sealed the hall with arrays.

  "You hail from beyond the void gate?"

  "How to address?"

  Du Longyang cupped fists—first true interaction.

  Past were grudges.

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  "Young Master Lu."

  No more.

  "Young Master Lu..."

  Du Longyang smiled. "Using spirit fluid as avatar—your spiritual control surpasses norms."

  Lu smirked.

  "I warned: Nascent Soul interference, I slaughter all in Martial Emperor City. Remember?"

  Du Longyang's face soured.

  City lord, Tianyuan's top spear—threatened.

  Yet powerless.

  Nascent Souls were a faction's core—deterrence.

  Targeted by a mysterious Infant Transformation? Unprotectable.

  Assassination? Unstoppable.

  He swallowed it.

  Yuan Shang smoothed: "Past. Young Master exposed the immortal's dog—we're grateful."

  Lu waved—coincidence.

  He'd ignore the blind elder otherwise.

  "Not just Martial Emperor City. Bitter Buddha Temple's great Buddha ascended, issuing Buddhist warning at the end. We've suspected the immortal realm, ascension—a lie."

  Yuan Shang cut to chase.

  Du Longyang: "You raided our pavilion—saw Heavenly Origin? First Martial Emperor's warning to the world, like the Buddha's."

  "Not just us. Great Qian's first Empress, Absolute Blade Gate's founder, many ancient ascendants left fragments."

  "Ascension—a massive lie."

  "We investigated secretly, found immortal dogs."

  "But how many? Unknown—marks etched in souls."

  Mini-Lu laughed.

  "So, enlist me for god-slaying?"

  They nodded.

  "Trust an outsider?"

  "Better than opaque immortal dogs."

  Du Longyang helpless.

  Nie silent—no qualification to interject.

  God-slaying? Dog-hunting?

  Boss level.

  Hall fell quiet, tense—like aura standoff.

  "Hm..."

  "God-slaying, fine."

  "I'll agree—but benefits?"

  Mini-Lu calm.

  They exchanged glances—main event.

  No free aid.

  "Unrestrict void gate? Your disciples roam Tianyuan freely?"

  Du Longyang probed.

  Mini-Lu eyed him like an idiot.

  "Think I'm foolish?"

  Pressure forged entry—removing it defeated purpose.

  "State demands."

  Yuan Shang palm upright.

  Lake Heart Island.

  Lu smiled.

  Sipped plum wine.

  Tapped armrest rhythmically.

  "What to demand?"

  "God-slaying... skimping insults the title."

  Chin in hand.

  Tianyuan: mature mid-martial—spirit tools, pills, arrays complete.

  Far beyond nascent Five Phoenixes—much to learn.

  Learning accelerates growth—for individuals, worlds.

  But hesitation—he'd emptied Martial Emperor pavilion.

  In city.

  Du Longyang, seeing delay, felt pressure.

  Inhaled: "Aid... one first-grade artifact?!"

  Mini-Lu: "First-grade?"

  Du Longyang pointed at sword. "Top like yours."

  Lu frowned.

  "Young Master, first-grade rarest—coveted, bloodbaths."

  Yuan Shang.

  "I don't fancy artifacts. This sword? Mere accessory."

  They: ...

  Lu sighed. "Fine, not difficult... one first-grade artifact, two equivalent pills... convenience for the kids—no hunt-on-sight..."

  Three demands.

  They exchanged troubled looks.

  "Last two yes... first impossible."

  "Even we lack a second."

  Du Longyang.

  "Truly none."

  Yuan Shang.

  "World's first-grades? Finger-count."

  Lu sighed regretfully.

  "One then."

  "Call when slaying."

  No lingering.

  Sword whistled, red streak shattering barrier—unimpeded, vanishing with mini-Lu.

  Decisive.

  Nie remained.

  Mouth agape—like abandoned at dragon gate.

  But awed.

  Worthy of Young Master—priceless aid!

  Yuan Shang to Du Longyang: "Reliable?"

  "Reliable or not... better than hidden dogs."

  Du Longyang inhaled, gazing skyward gravely.

  Monumental resolve.

  "Inform Empress, Absolute Blade, Tianxu?"

  Yuan Shang.

  "Empress notified. Others—no, precaution."

  Yuan Shang paled—suspect them?

  ...

  Buzhou Peak.

  Zhu Long's lashes trembled.

  Sensed Li Sansi near death.

  Matured mind, own judgments.

  Lu created her; Li Sansi taught the world.

  Complex feelings.

  Didn't want him dead.

  But aiding? Dad angry...

  Dilemma—pity if died.

  Lashes fluttered, eyed dragon gate, lips pursed.

  Left blue stone.

  Into gate.

  Emerged on Beiluo Lake.

  Lively—cultivators boating to Scripture Tower; one month only.

  From gate, closed eyes toward misty island.

  Pursed lips, stepped on water.

  Distant.

  Little Yinglong frolicking in tower stiffened, whipped around—sensed terror.

  Wind-like, burst out, wings flapping.

  Dove into lone, bewildered closed-eye girl on lake.

  "Plop" into arms.

  But Zhu Long pinched neck scruff, lifted.

  He puckered, ready to spray.

  Pinch tightened—ticklish; water gushed out.

  "Shh."

  Slender finger to lips.

  Pointed island, then gate.

  His eyes lit.

  Covered mouth.

  Big sis sneaking him out to play?

  Curved lips, placed on shoulder, tiptoed on water—into gate.

  Distant.

  Lü Dongxuan fishing, late notice.

  "Eh?"

  "Dragon bro quiet today?"

  Pondered.

  Wrinkles bunched, sly grin.

  "Good—no fish thief."

  "Heh heh..."

  Zhu Long with Little Yinglong through gate—to Buzhou Peak.

  He romped joyfully—first outside!

  But soon pinched, lifted.

  Deep breath.

  Tucked bamboo flute at waist.

  His eyes brightened, grabbed, played poorly—opened mouth to bite.

  Her closed face tilted; he froze, released, innocent smile.

  Resolve.

  Step out.

  Plummeted from peak.

  Snowy base.

  Boom!

  Shockwave.

  Streamers, shattering snow, blasting afar.