"You know," Dian Jiuzhi said slowly, his tone casual, almost amused, yet laced with an undercurrent of cold arrogance, "with my status and power, all the beauties in the world would grovel at my feet… begging, weeping, just for the chance to be taken in as one of my women."
His fingers tightened ever so slightly around the blade of Divine Oracle, still suspended between them.
"Yet you… you refused. Refused in a way that even surprised me, honestly."
"You have a bloodline that feels… familiar," Dian Juizhi murmured, his gaze narrowing as he studied her, golden light flickering within his pupils like a coiling flame. "Similar to mine… similar to those of the Boundless Divine Kingdom."
He took a step closer, his voice calm, but laced with a deeper curiosity—one not born of suspicion, but of intrigue.
"And yet…" he continued, "your aura, your power—it carries the scent of darkness. The kind that clings to those from the Owl Butterfly Divine Kingdom."
His eyes slowly scanned her from head to toe.
"But you're not one of us… and you're not one of them either."
The pressure in his voice deepened, not in volume, but in weight. There was no anger, no accusation—only sharpened focus, the way a god might look at a rare puzzle delivered by fate itself.
"I'm truly interested…" he said, stepping close enough that the space between them felt like a thread drawn taut.
"In knowing who you really are."
As he spoke, a faint sound began to echo—
"Crack… crack…"
Qianye Ying'er's pupils shrank as horror surge in her heart.
"BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!"
The golden blade, once the feared Divine Oracle, shattered in his grasp like brittle glass. Shards of golden light burst in every direction as her weapon — her final defense — was destroyed before her eyes.
Her heart seized as horror spread across her face.
But Dian Jiuzhi's gaze only grew colder.
"Your yin energy… it isn't pure either," he continued, his voice dropping lower, filled with venomous condescension. "That can only mean… you've been tainted by another man before."
He leaned closer, his pupils narrowing into thin slits, like a serpent about to strike.
"But can he compare to me—
—a god?"
Then, without another word, he curled his fingers and flicked.
"BOOOOOMMMM!!!"
The force behind that flick was like a mountain crumbling.
Qianye Ying'er was hurled through the air, her body twisting as blood burst from her lips. She flew like a broken arrow across the hall, crashing violently against the edge of the golden formation that sealed the space.
The impact cracked the divine barrier, and her body slumped to the ground in a crumpled heap, trembling, blood trailing down the corner of her mouth, the world spinning in her vision.
And above her… the god still stood. Unmoving. Unshaken. Untouched.
This wasn't how she planned it.
Everything—every word, every glance, every smile—had been calculated.
When it came to men who fell for her, they would always end up doing anything she wanted. Her beauty, her presence, her aura—it was a weapon more lethal than any blade, one that had never failed her.
And yet...
In less than a month since she had been brought into the Boundless Divine Kingdom, the man she meant to manipulate had already revealed his true face.
Dian Jiuzhi.
The Boundless Rage Divine Regent.
A god.
She had misjudged him—not because she lacked cunning, not because she lacked experience, but because the man before her was no longer the same man that the world had once feared for his madness and worshipped for his charm.
The gentleman mask he once wore had long been broken—shattered, not by her, but by others who had come before her.
Hua Caili—the Abyss Goddess who humiliated his pursuit and wounded his pride.
Shen Wuyi—the woman who he once within his reach, the woman who supposed to mend his wound only to left it colder than before.
Those two women had carved scars into his soul that no time or beauty could erase.
And now? Dian Jiuzhi still loved beauty. But beauty… was no longer something he cherished.
It was no longer something he admired or adored. It was just an ornament. A decoration. A trophy. It held no power over him anymore.
He was a god who needed no reason. No approval. No restraint. Because gods… did not need anyone to tell them what to do. And that— That was Qianye Ying'er's mistake.
With a trembling body, Qianye Ying'er slowly pushed herself up from the cold floor, her hands slick with blood as she wiped the trail from her lips. Her limbs ached, her bones throbbed, and her insides churned with pain, but she was still alive. If Dian Jiuzhi had truly intended to kill her, she wouldn't even be breathing right now—let alone standing.
"Cough… cough… puke!"
A wet spray of blood burst from her mouth, staining the pristine floor beneath her, yet her golden eyes, though dimmed with agony, still glared with cold hatred at the man—no, the god—before her.
Dian Jiuzhi stood there, calm as ever, his golden robes flowing like divine flame, untouched by the violence he had just unleashed.
"So," he said, voice laced with amusement and cruelty, "since you refused to become mine nicely… then let's play the game a little longer. I'll give you time to run."
With a flick of his finger, the golden formations sealing the chamber shattered one after another, vanishing like dust in the wind. In an instant, the path to the outside world opened once more.
Without hesitation, Qianye Ying'er's figure shot out from the broken palace like a bolt of golden lightning, her departure tearing through the air and drawing the startled gazes of every being nearby. Alarm spread through the capital in an instant.
Behind her, Dian Jiuzhi's serpent-like eyes narrowed, a faint smirk curling at the corner of his lips as he watched her figure flee into the horizon.
"When this little game of ours is over… let's see who you really are"
The wounded form of Qianye Ying'er flew through the skies at full speed, her profound energy surging, her body screaming in pain. She called upon every scrap of knowledge she had gathered, every hidden path, every blind spot within the Boundless Divine Kingdom, using everything she knew to put as much distance between them as possible.
There were no pursuers.
No shadows behind her.
And yet—no matter how far she flew, no matter how fast her speed—
That dreadful feeling in her chest told her one thing with chilling certainty:
It still wasn't enough.
As she reached the border of the Divine Kingdom, her injured body shot forward like a streak of golden light. The powerful divine barrier that protected the kingdom from the corrosive Abyssal Dust parted before her presence without resistance—clearly, Dian Jiuzhi had allowed it. Without pause, she pushed through, and in an instant, the air changed.
The moment she exited the sanctuary of the Divine Kingdom, the weight of the Abyssal Dust returned. Heavier. More oppressive. It clung to her skin and soul like chains forged from decay itself.
She didn't stop.
She couldn't.
She flew faster, further—mile after mile vanished beneath her as her speed tore through the desolate sky. Not until she had crossed what she estimated to be a several million miles did the unbearable pressure behind her finally lift.
Only then did she allow herself a breath.
Only then did she suppress her aura, vanishing into the mist of the Abyssal world, sinking herself into the haze to mask her presence. Her body trembled as she knelt down upon a dead ridge of gray stone, quickly gathering her profound energy, forcing it into her shattered meridians, desperately working to stabilize her wounds.
But just as her breathing calmed—
"Oh? So you want to stop here?"
Dian Jiuzhi's voice slithered into her ears like a devil's whisper.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Her eyes widened, her soul shuddered.
"You should know..." his voice echoed again, casual and amused, "that escaping from a God is pointless."
And then—he was there.
His form materialized before her like it had always belonged, golden robes flowing gently despite the heavy air, his expression calm, his gaze sharp with amusement and cruelty.
"But still… you tried."
With a flicker of golden light, he was already in front of her.
His finger stretched forward, slow and deliberate, but as it about to reach her,
Suddenly, with a burst of red light, Qianye Ying'er's figure vanished without a trace!
!!!!!!!!
The instant that crimson flash erupted, Dian Jiuzhi's expression changed drastically—his pupils contracted as fear surged through his heart like a blade. That light… that presence… it reminded him of an incident not too long ago, one that had left a deep imprint in his divine soul. Without hesitation, he stepped back, instinctively bracing himself, as though something catastrophic was about to happen.
But then—nothing.
No attack. No ambush. No explosion.
Only silence.
The moment he realized nothing happen, his fear turned into violent fury.
His divine sense exploded outward like a storm, sweeping across vast distances as he tried to lock onto her presence, but it was useless. There was no trace left behind—not even the faintest flicker of her aura.
At that very instant she was teleported away, Qianye Ying'er had pushed her technique, the Brahma God Realm's ultimate concealment art—Great Splendorous Shadow—to its absolute limits, forcibly collapsing her form and aura into complete obscurity. Everything about her—her presence, her breath, even her spiritual fluctuations—vanished into void.
And the place she had reappeared—
Was none other than the Throne Room, the very hall where she and Dian Jiuzhi had once stood side by side.
She appeared without sound, her body emerging from the red shimmer like a shadow materializing from mist. Standing there, among the grandeur and silence of the empty hall, she glanced around swiftly to confirm she had not been detected.
Her expression was calm, but within her golden eyes flickered a cold light.
"I owe you one, Devil Queen," she whispered quietly as she grabbed onto a small traceless object hiding in the space, the Eye of Teleportation of the World Piercing Needle , gifted to her by the Devil Queen before she coming down to the Abyss. With its power to hide even from the senses of a True God, she had hidden one of the teleportation nodes within this very room in advance—under his nose, without the Boundless Divine Regent ever noticing.
And now, it had saved her.
During her time in the Boundless Divine Kingdom, Qianye Ying'er had been meticulous. She had asked many questions, and Dian Jiuzhi, perhaps too confident in his control over her, had answered most of them with careless indulgence. Some secrets, she hadn't even needed to ask—he had offered them freely, intoxicated by her beauty and the illusion of dominance he believed he held.
Slipping passes the throne toward the room behind it, her figure moved like a whisper, her presence hidden beneath layers of concealment. Soon, she arrived at a chamber shrouded in ancient formations—ones that required a specific bloodline to pass through.
This was what she had been aiming for all along.
With a deep breath, she extended her hand, and at her fingertip, a single drop of blood shimmered into existence—not her own, but the blood she had taken from Dian Xiang. When he was injured that day, the day that she was brought back here by Dian Jiuzhi.
The drop of blood fell upon the formation, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened. But then, with a faint hum and a flicker of light, the formations responded. They shimmered, twisted, and parted like mist under the morning sun as the sealed door slowly creaked open.
And before her—
Treasures.
Rows of glittering items, glowing artifacts, and profound materials lay in wait, their auras rich and ancient.
Yet...
"...Why is it so little?"
That was the first thought that crossed her mind. She had expected the Divine Kingdom's treasury to be overflowing, endless… but instead, the vault felt lacking, as though it had already been heavily emptied.
Still, she wasted no time. Pushing those doubts aside, she swept through the room, grabbing everything she could, her hands swift and decisive. Each item vanished into her spatial storage, her movements sharp and fluid.
"If I don't have resources, I'll just take it from you!" She smiles as soon, she disappear in red flash once more.
Half an hour later, a terrifying divine pressure descended upon the Boundless Divine Kingdom like the wrath of heaven itself, a god's fury roaring across the skies as the divine realm trembled under its weight.
Unfortunately for the god who had returned in rage—
Qianye Ying'er was already long gone.
----------
Owl Butterfly Divine Kingdom
"Clang... clang..."
The soft, rhythmic rattle of chains echoed through the dim, hollow chamber, accompanied only by the shallow sound of breathing and the heavy silence that filled every corner of the room. A man moved slowly from one corner to the next—his steps heavy, dragging, burdened not by the physical weight of the chains, but by the weight of his shattered spirit.
Though there was now a visitor in the room, the prisoner did not approach. Instead, he instinctively moved further away, as if distance alone could shield him from the confrontation he no longer had the strength to face.
That prisoner—once a god, once a man of unmatched dignity and sovereign command—was now a hollow shell of his former self. The once-mighty Divine Regent of the Owl Butterfly Divine Kingdom, Qi Heng, now looked like an aged mortal stripped of pride and power. His hair, once silver and flowing with divine luster, had dulled into lifeless gray. His eyes, once sharp enough to pierce through falsehoods, now held no light, no resolve—only endless fatigue.
And what was perhaps most pitiful of all… the chains that bound him were not placed there by another.
He had forged them himself.
He had used his profound power to create them.
And with those very hands that once ruled a kingdom, he had locked himself away within this secluded hall of despair.
"I didn't even chain you up, you know."
The voice was calm—neither mocking nor sympathetic—but filled with a truth that cut deeper than any blade.
Standing before him was none other than Pan Buwang, his son, the current Eclipse Sovereign Divine Regent. He looked down at his father, not with hatred, nor with scorn, but with a kind of emptiness—an emotional exhaustion born from years of silence, anger, and loss.
Qi Heng said nothing. He didn't even raise his head. Slowly, he sat back down against the cold stone, his eyes fixed on nothing, like a man who had long lost the right to dream.
Pan Buwang stood still for a long moment, watching the once-mighty figure now reduced to ruin. Finally, his voice broke the silence once more.
"Back then… I was in the same position as you are now."
His tone was low, heavy with something that bordered between sorrow and restrained bitterness.
"Have you finally… understood my pain?"
His gaze didn't waver as he looked at the man who had once cast him aside—once stood tall, unbending, while he was brought to his knees.
And in that moment…
Qi Heng's eyes trembled.
His body shook ever so slightly.
"I lost my mother… my love… and the father—" Pan Buwang's voice cracked slightly, not from weakness, but from the weight of emotions long buried beneath years of silence, anger, and resignation. "—the only person I had left in this world… abandoned me."
With those words, he slowly sat down on the cold floor, lowering himself to the same level as the broken man before him. He no longer looked like a Sovereign Divine Regent, no longer carried the weight of a True God, but simply a son—one who had once looked up with hope, only to be met with cold dismissal.
There were no iron bars here. No guards. No locks. No prisons.
The chains were self-made. The walls were illusions.
Everything about this place was a manifestation of Qi Heng's own guilt, his self-imposed exile, the mirror of a shattered mind that refused to face the world beyond.
Pan Buwang didn't say much. He didn't need to. He merely looked at the man who had once stood untouchable before him, and quietly spoke the truth that had always festered in his heart.
"I lost everything…" he whispered, "so I thought I'd do the same to you."
He didn't say it out of spite. There was no venom in his voice. It was simply the truth. A son's retribution, not born of hatred, but of the ache for something that had never been returned.
Across from him, Qi Heng's body trembled even more, visibly shaking as the silence that followed pressed in like a vice. His eyes, once dimmed and lifeless, now reddened—not from rage, but from the raw, overwhelming guilt he had tried so hard to suppress.
In the short time since he had relinquished his power to Pan Buwang… since the day he had felt the full weight of powerlessness and saw the son he had cast aside rise above him… he had begun to see.
And now, sitting here, staring at the very embodiment of his failure—not as a god, but as a father—he could no longer hold it in.
He realized now, with full clarity, what kind of man he had been.
What kind of father he had failed to become.
And even though his profound strength remained untouched—his cultivation unbroken—
His heart. His spirit. His will.
Were no different than that of a crippled man.
Looking at his father for one last time, Pan Buwang slowly rose to his feet. He didn't say another word, but his gaze lingered for a brief moment longer, heavy with a thousand things left unsaid—anger, grief, sorrow, but also… release.
With a flick of his finger, the void within the chamber trembled, ripples spreading through space itself as if reality bent under his will. Then, one after another, figures began to fall to the floor, each of them wounded to varying degrees—some barely conscious, others clutching their sides, faces pale and drained, but all unmistakably alive.
Familiar faces. Familiar souls.
Pan Buwang's voice broke through the silence one final time.
"But at the end of the day…" he said quietly, without looking back, "I am not you."
With those words, he turned and walked away, his footsteps light, but leaving behind a presence that echoed throughout the chamber. The heavy doors closed slowly behind him, sealing the space in utter silence once more.
Qi Heng sat frozen, eyes wide, unable to process what had just unfolded.
Then—when Pan Buwang's presence had finally disappeared, when the stillness settled once more—
He moved.
With trembling legs, he scrambled to his feet, staggering forward as if the very ground beneath him were fragile glass. He rushed to the nearest body, falling to his knees, hands shaking as he reached out.
A pulse.
Warmth.
Alive.
His breath caught.
Tears—hot, uncontrollable—burst from his eyes as he fell forward, his forehead pressing to the ground as sobs wracked his broken form.
--------
Eternal Night Divine Kingdom
"Puke!!!"
A violent cough tore through the dark stillness of the chamber as Shenwu Yanye doubled over, a torrent of thick, blackened blood splashing onto the cold, obsidian floor beneath her. Her slender frame trembled, the veins across her body throbbing with the last remnants of a deadly toxin that had nearly consumed even her divine body.
But slowly… her skin, once pale and tainted with a sickly hue, began to regain its natural glow, the divine power within her pulsing back to life. The searing heat of her profound flame ignited within her body, racing through her veins as she sat cross-legged, summoning all the strength of her origin flame for one final act of purification.
The black darkness energy was forced out from every pore of her being, evaporating in the air with a hiss, until nothing impure remained.
And then—silence.
She opened her eyes.
They were still blind, yet they glowed with a godly, terrifying brilliance.
For Shenwu Yanye, even without sight, the world was laid bare before her divine sense. The vast darkness of her kingdom, the winds that whispered through the abyss, the trembling aura of her kneeling subjects far beyond the palace walls—she could feel it all.
"Pan Buwang…" she growled, her voice low and heavy, like a storm on the verge of breaking. Her aura began to surge, divine flames licking the air around her as the chamber began to crack.
Then—
"THIS HATRED… I WILL NEVER LET IT GO!!!"
Her voice exploded like a thunderclap across the kingdom.
The ground quaked.
The skies roared.
Shenwu Yanye—the fearsome and unrelenting ruler of the Eternal Night Divine Kingdom—had fully recovered!