Three figures descended, landing amidst the ruins — the two Xu Clan Elders, and behind them, a man in gray armor radiating quiet dominance.
"This is Senior Wang, from the princess's sect," one elder said hurriedly, bowing toward Wang Ming. "He came with us to aid the dynasty!"
"Senior?" Luo Jingtao froze for half a breath, glancing at Wang Ming. His eyes widened. That aura—!
"Soul Transformation Realm!"
The realization made his blood surge. Without another word, he cupped his hands. "Luo Jingtao greets Senior!"
Wang Ming gave a slight nod, expression cold. "No need for formalities. Let's resolve this first. I must report back to the Sect Master."
At the words "Sect Master," Luo Jingtao blinked, a strange glint in his eyes. Sect? Could it be… the Primordial Dao Holy Land?
But there was no time to ask.
Bai Feng, who had been hovering in the air, turned pale. His earlier arrogance vanished like smoke. "S-Soul Transformation Realm? Impossible!"
Grand Xu only had one such powerhouse — Luo Xuanqing. How could another exist, and why was he here?
His body trembled. Even the Plume Ascension Dynasty's own Imperial Preceptor, Yan Xuandao, was of that level. For this stranger to appear on Grand Xu's side…
He forced a shaky smile, bowing low. "I-I don't know which sect Senior hails from… surely we can talk—"
Wang Ming stepped forward once.
The pressure of the Soul Transformation Realm flooded the sky. The air twisted, space itself shivering beneath his feet.
The ground cracked like glass.
Wang Ming's hand lifted lazily — a simple grasp through the air.
Bai Feng's body jolted. An invisible force crushed his spiritual sea. His bones cracked in unison, blood spraying from his mouth. He crashed to the ruined palace floor like a sack of shattered stone.
"Hiss—" Luo Jingtao, both elders, even the royal guards nearby, all sucked in sharp breaths.
Luo Jingtao had witnessed his ancestor fight before, yet even that terrifying strength hadn't made the heavens tremble this way.
What kind of sect did Xueyao join?
Bai Feng coughed blood, face pale as paper. He struggled to raise his head, fear twisting his features. "S-senior… have mercy! I—I hold no grudge against you! Why side with the Grand Xu Dynasty?"
"Oh?" Wang Ming's eyes narrowed faintly. "No grudge?"
His tone was mild. His hand fell.
Bai Feng vomited another mouthful of blood and collapsed completely, unable to speak again.
"No grudge," Wang Ming said lightly, "but I dislike traitors."
The words had barely left his lips when the void above trembled.
Two figures appeared, tearing through space. One wore a golden dragon robe, his hair white, his body frail yet his eyes still sharp as lightning. The other, clad in silver and black, emanated a cold, ancient killing intent.
"Yan Xuandao!" the old man roared. "You dare invade my Grand Xu—are you so eager to die with us?"
"Luo Xuanqing," Yan Xuandao replied with a cruel smile, his voice echoing across the broken sky. "If you hadn't birthed that little genius of yours, I wouldn't have bothered. But you raised a threat. Better to strangle it while it's small."
The truth struck like a hammer. The so-called national war was only a pretext. Bai Feng was nothing but a pawn, a disposable distraction to occupy Luo Jingtao while Yan Xuandao faced Luo Xuanqing himself.
"Imperial Preceptor, save me!" Bai Feng cried hoarsely, half-dead but still groveling.
Yan Xuandao glanced down at him, his lip curling in disgust. "Trash."
He had spent a century grooming Bai Feng, pouring in rare resources to forge a loyal dog. And this dog, despite the setup, still failed to even kill a wounded king.
Pathetic.
He lifted his sleeve slightly. Bai Feng's body convulsed and burst silently into blood mist.
The air grew still.
"Yan Xuandao!" Luo Xuanqing's voice cracked with rage. "You go too far!"
Yan Xuandao laughed coldly. "Today, the Grand Xu bloodline ends!"
The next instant, his aura exploded — a tempest of spiritual pressure swept through the entire capital. Every cultivator below the Nascent Soul Realm fell to their knees, unable to breathe.
Only Wang Ming and Luo Xuanqing stood unmoved amidst the storm.
Luo Jingtao and the others gasped for air, their faces pale. If not for Wang Ming's quiet gesture — a flick of his sleeve that dispelled the oppressive force — they would have been crushed.
"Th-thank you, Senior!" The elders quickly bowed, sweat soaking their robes.
Wang Ming gave a faint nod, eyes still fixed on the two Soul Transformation experts in the sky.
Luo Xuanqing's expression was solemn. He could feel it clearly: Yan Xuandao's cultivation had reached the Ninth Stage of the Soul Transformation Realm, the peak of that boundary.
He himself was also Ninth Stage—but his blood and Qi were withering; his vitality could barely sustain his realm.
A flicker of bitterness crossed his face. If not for this body's decline, this old fox would never dare come so brazenly.
Yan Xuandao sneered and raised a hand. Spiritual power condensed into a massive palm that darkened the heavens. The air screamed as the hand descended.
"Die!"
The golden dragon-robed Luo Xuanqing stepped forward, veins bulging along his arm. "You think an old man fears you!"
He gathered his remaining strength; his own spiritual power surged, forming a titanic sword that slashed upward.
The two forces met.
Boom!
The sword shattered like glass beneath Yan Xuandao's palm. The impact sent Luo Xuanqing flying backward. His spiritual barrier collapsed, his robe tore, blood spraying as he crashed through the palace wall and into the rubble.
"Ancestor!" Luo Jingtao cried, rushing forward.
Yan Xuandao floated in the air, smiling faintly. "Weak."
His hand lifted again. Another spiritual palm began to form.
But before it could descend, the air trembled — and the palm disintegrated.
A shadow flickered before him. Wang Ming stood there, robes unmoving, his eyes indifferent.
"Huh?" Yan Xuandao frowned. "Another Soul Transformation Realm?"
He examined Wang Ming briefly. "Early stage," he said, sneering. "You think you can stop me?"
Wang Ming's expression didn't change. "If you were a Half-Step Immortal King, perhaps not. But as a Ninth Stage Soul Transformation cultivator... you're already within my reach."
His words were calm, but the moment they left his mouth, his aura detonated.
An overwhelming force surged from his body, the sky itself trembling. Before anyone could blink, his figure vanished — reappearing directly before Yan Xuandao.
"Sky-Severing Finger."
The world darkened. Spiritual power gathered at his fingertip, compressing until the air cracked.
Yan Xuandao's pupils shrank. "Impossible—"
The finger fell.
A streak of light pierced the heavens.
Boom.
Silence followed.
When the light faded, nothing remained where Yan Xuandao had stood — no corpse, no soul, not even dust. Only the faint echo of a shattered Dao.
"Hiss—!"
Luo Jingtao, the elders, even the wounded Luo Xuanqing stared in disbelief.
This… this was the Soul Transformation Realm?
With one finger?
Luo Xuanqing coughed blood, eyes trembling. "Invincible… in the same realm…"
Wang Ming exhaled faintly, his aura settling. "Enemy eliminated. The sect mission advances."
He turned toward Luo Jingtao and bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, protect your people. The Lingxiao Sect will handle what remains."
Luo Jingtao's lips moved, but words failed him.
Wang Ming looked once toward the darkened sky, then flicked his sleeve. His body blurred and vanished into thin air.
The flames across the capital still burned, but for the first time in days, the clouds above began to part.
Within the ruins of the imperial palace, Luo Jingtao stood beneath the open sky, trembling slightly. "That… was my daughter's sect…"
He laughed once, hoarse and weary. "Then the heavens may yet favor Grand Xu."
Far away, atop the Immortal Grave Mountain, Qin Wucheng sat cross-legged in his hall. His eyes opened as a faint chime echoed in his mind.
[ Ding! Sect Mission Progress: Stage One Complete. ]
[ Current Reward: Random Draw + Ten War Weapons Unlocked. ]
Qin Wucheng smiled faintly.
"Not bad, Wang Ming. You've earned your rice again."
He leaned back, looking out at the sea of clouds.
"Three days to destroy a dynasty, huh? Maybe the System really does want me to become a devil."
His laughter drifted softly through the mountain wind.