Chapter 67: Nine Spirits Mountain

At night, while Yinyin slept, Gu Zhuo ventured into the space after many days. In truth, little had changed within—the three chickens still lingered in their cage, surviving only because Gu Zhuo occasionally tossed in some grain husks, keeping them from starving. Now, with the addition of two sheep, she found herself needing to provide more. Planting pasture grass temporarily was possible, but it would take time, so she decided she could only seize the opportunity to cut some hay outside to feed the sheep.

Meanwhile, at the military encampment—

At that moment, Zhang Ping glanced at his watch, his eyes gleaming as he gazed into the pitch-black night. The darkness hardly impeded the vision of those who had become cultivators among the human race; from afar, one could see the ruins of shattered buildings and a landscape littered with chilling, bone-white remains.

The Ghost King in Azure Robes had expected Wang Xiao to deny it, but Wang Xiao admitted it outright, which only deepened the Ghost King's suspicion and heightened his guard against Wang Xiao.

The twenty-fifth Sea-Calming Divine Pearl, as expected, had been refined and integrated into his inner world.

Not to mention Su Cheng, the elder brother bound to him by blood—even he himself had, over the past four years, lost count of how many times he had wanted to crush Su Xiaoxi.

The steward, well acquainted with this man’s temperament, saw the growing crowd outside and abandoned any thought of further persuasion.

An endless stream of golden sword energy seemed to spill from the stars, gathering together like a hanging Milky Way, coalescing into a colossal sword that blotted out the sky. Radiant gold shimmered along its edge, cleaving the heavens as though it would tear the very sky asunder.

When not in the capital, Prince Qi felt he could avoid returning entirely—even if the emperor passed away, a distant tribute would suffice.

The lamplight late at night stretched the shadows long, the amber glow softening the features of every face it touched.

“My name is Shangguan Yuner, from the Shangguan family. Thank you for saving me. If you ever find yourself in trouble, you can come to me.” Shangguan Yuner produced a name card and held it out to Zhang Dian, who did not even spare it a glance.

When the two entered the elevator, the doors closed slowly, and the light above the buttons began to flicker.

“Yes. I did send out intelligence agents to Earth to gather information. Now, Earth is far stronger than before. Had we attacked earlier, it wouldn’t have been so difficult.” So spoke General Wang.

Although Alice was thin, she was not skin and bones—her balanced figure, paired with her unnaturally fair complexion, made her look like a large, delicate doll. Unfortunately, this doll was not the sort one could cradle and manipulate at will.

Lu Renjia gave the three Mountain King Group members no chance to rise, swinging his baseball bat fiercely at their knees.

Indeed, if anyone could still find him in this world, it would be Lianyun, who had joined the cult of the Holy Spirit and risen to its leadership as the sect master.

Huang Chengyan said nothing, hurriedly pulling a blueprint from his sleeve and studying it intently.

With a downward thrust, the Lingyun Sword pierced straight from above, entering the man’s forehead and plunging into his chest. Wu Zheng braced himself against the collapsing corpse, springing up again, deftly stepping atop the helmets of soldiers in the street, moving swiftly and calmly toward the east.

The four subordinates of Noii had no time to grasp what was happening before their boss was sent flying four or five meters by a single punch. Before they could react, all four were felled by Lu Renjia’s unpretentious fists.

When Tu Yuan first formed his core, he named a certain divine talisman the “Ten Thousand Laws Yin-Yang Talisman”—or the Yin-Yang Ten Thousand Laws Talisman. At the time, it was a feeling, so he chose that name, and now that he had reached the Nascent Soul stage, he felt it had never been more appropriate.

The number sounded small; it took nearly ten years to produce a single “Void Aberration”—hardly a model of efficiency.