Yes—in the planned strategy, getting the Abyss Saint Lord to enter the Douluo Plane was the top priority.
So it was necessary to let him see the Douluo Plane's strength and feel confident enough to come.
Zhang Huanyun quickly understood.
The Abyss Plane and the Douluo Plane weren't neighboring planes—they were far apart. If the passage were severed, they might never find each other again.
If the Abyss Saint Lord, knowing there were reincarnated deities on the Douluo Plane, prudently chose a strategic retreat, everything they'd done would be wasted.
How to put his mind at ease?
Clearly, a formal, full-force clash could partially allay the Saint Lord's suspicions.
But what Zhang Huanyun didn't understand was—with the Saint Lord's discerning eye, he should be able to tell whether the Spirit-Ice Douluo had used his full strength. How had the Spirit-Ice Douluo fooled him?
After a moment's thought, Zhang Huanyun shook his head and gave up.
Forget it. He didn't understand divine matters.
Since the Spirit-Ice Douluo dared to do this, he must have his reasons.
He'd just enjoy this moment of victory.
With that thought, Zhang Huanyun looked at the Legion soldiers' joyful expressions, a smile tugging at his lips. He then sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and sensed the opportunity Huo Yuhao had infused into the world energy.
The nourishing force flowed through his limbs, like spring rain moistening the earth. His heart stirred—if he could seize this chance, he might finally break through the threshold that had eluded him for years and step into the Limit Douluo realm.
But as he focused his mind, he vaguely felt he was overlooking something.
At the same time, in the mirror space.
Empty on all sides, white to the point of brilliance.
Tang Wulin stood alone at the center, looking up at the "sky" where there was nothing, speechless.
Hey, everyone, did you forget something?
Who's going to let me out?!
While the Blood God Legion celebrated their victory, the Abyss Plane's atmosphere was suffocatingly heavy.
A somber gloom pervaded the gray-white world, pressing down even on the Abyss Emperors.
The layers that had lost their Plane Seeds were in chaos. Though the Abyss creatures there still lived—since Huo Yuhao hadn't destroyed the Plane Seeds—they knew their time was short, that they could vanish at any moment with the Seeds' destruction.
To survive, some tried to migrate to other layers; others even contemplated seizing other Emperors' Plane Seeds.
But the latter was just wishful thinking. All Abyss creatures knew it was impossible.
The Abyss Emperor competition system had strict rules—only creatures belonging to a given layer could compete for that layer's Plane Seed. Otherwise, the Abyss would have been in chaos long ago. The Spirit Emperor's Spirit Dragons, for instance, were at least Level 98—if competition were unrestricted, lower-ranked Emperors would have been replaced long ago.
So the idea that "kings and nobles are born, not made" didn't work here.
Thus, the Emperors weren't worried about these leaderless Abyss creatures causing real trouble. They only felt sympathy for their fallen peers, fearing they might share the same fate.
But that wasn't the most terrifying thing.
What chilled them most was the silence from the throne—lasting for what felt like hours.
Since withdrawing his hand and closing the passage, the Saint Lord hadn't made a sound.
No roar, no rebuke, not even a cold snort. This dead silence was more suffocating than any rage.
He sat on his high throne, his world-crushing aura flickering, the entire Abyss trembling under his pressure.
Now, the surviving Abyss Emperors all knelt before the hall, not daring to breathe.
Of the original 107 figures besides the Saint Lord, only over 80 remained. The Saint Lord's final intervention—to temporarily open the passage—had cost ten Abyss Emperors their lives, sacrificed as fuel for that brief opening.
Adding the Blazing Emperor, Six-Claw Demon Emperor, and five others killed by Huo Yuhao, plus the Three-Headed Demon Serpent and Bone Mountain Demon Lord who'd escaped, the Abyss had lost nineteen Abyss Emperors in this battle!
Though more than half of their Plane Seeds remained in the Abyss and could revive, the loss was still immense.
Even the war six thousand years ago hadn't been this costly.
Yet despite such sacrifices—even with the Saint Lord personally intervening—they'd gained nothing against the humans. They'd been driven back, unable to kill the reincarnated deity, let alone harm the human with the divine artifact.
Worse, the Saint Lord himself had been injured by forcefully breaking through another plane's suppression.
Many Emperors found this hard to believe—the Saint Lord's first personal intervention in ages had ended in failure.
But facts were facts. They had to accept it. Some even began to fear the Huo Yuhao who had repelled the Saint Lord.
And they knew that under these circumstances, the Saint Lord's mood couldn't be good.
Naturally, no one dared to provoke him.
Time trickled by; the oppressive pressure only grew.
Finally, a low voice rose from the throne—but instead of the expected fury, it was surprisingly... calm?
"From now on, cease sending Abyss creatures to attack the Douluo Plane," the Saint Lord said in a low tone. "Consolidate your forces and prepare for the final assault."
The hall fell silent.
Some Emperors were stunned.
Hearing the first half, they'd thought the Saint Lord intended to abandon the attack on the Douluo Plane.
They'd actually been prepared for that.
Because no matter how hard to accept, they had to face the truth: the human world, once regarded as a fat prize and a stepping stone to their Divine Realm, had now grown strong enough to counter them directly.
Even the possibility of the humans destroying the Abyss existed—the 97th layer was proof.
Abandoning this tough nut and seeking other suitable planes was an option.
But the Saint Lord's second half clearly meant something else.
Yet—with deities on the other side, could they truly invade successfully?
Though doubtful, the Emperors still obeyed: "We shall follow the Saint Lord's command!"
Their unified voices echoed through the hall as over eighty Emperors bowed, none daring to object.
The Saint Lord nodded indifferently, his gaze sweeping below, his tone unreadable: "Speak if you have questions."
The Emperors' hearts tightened—the Saint Lord had seen their hesitation.
They exchanged glances, none daring to speak first.
Finally, the Spirit Emperor spoke respectfully: "Saint Lord, how far has that reincarnated deity's power recovered? Will he be an obstacle to our conquest of the Douluo Plane?"
Others dared not mention Huo Yuhao, fearing it would shame the Saint Lord.
But as the Saint Lord's most trusted subordinate, the Spirit Emperor had noticed that after returning, the Saint Lord showed no anger—rather, some... joy.
In other words, the intelligence gained from this clash was good news for him.
And that news clearly involved Huo Yuhao.
The hall fell deathly silent again.
The Emperors held their breath, waiting for the Saint Lord's response. Some stole glances at the throne, seeing the shadowy figure motionless save for fingers lightly tapping the armrest—one, two, as if measuring something.
"An obstacle?"
The Saint Lord chuckled, relieving the Emperors' tension. "Spirit Emperor, who do you think I was fighting in that battle?"
The Spirit Emperor was taken aback, then lowered his head: "The Saint Lord was fighting the Douluo Plane."
He knew well that without the Douluo Plane's instinctive resistance, the Saint Lord would have already descended and devoured its origin.
What truly limited the Saint Lord was the Douluo Plane itself—not the experts on it.
"Correct."
The Saint Lord rose slowly, shadows falling from his pale face.
He stood with hands behind his back, gazing at the gray-white sky beyond the hall, his tone flat as if stating a trivial fact: "Huo Yuhao merely borrowed timing, location, and unity to barely contend with me."
"He was once strong, but now he's merely a reincarnated deity—no longer a first-class deity. His divine consciousness is only comparable to yours, Spirit Emperor. He hasn't even truly broken through to the divine level—only temporarily reaching it through profound foundation. At full strength, he's probably no match for the Killing God!"
In truth, being blocked by Huo Yuhao had brought him not frustration, but immense joy.
Because he could see that in that battle, Huo Yuhao had used his full power.
And in his eyes, that full power was truly feeble!
"A man who hasn't even become a deity—possibly not even a match for the Killing God—do you think he can be an obstacle to the Abyss conquering the Douluo Plane?"
Hearing this, the Spirit Emperor finally understood his joy. He bowed his head and replied respectfully, "No. Your subordinate was overthinking."
The Saint Lord smiled. "Not entirely overthinking—to you, he is indeed a great threat. But no matter. I will descend to the Douluo Plane and personally deal with him."
"The Saint Lord is wise!"
The Abyss Emperors and Kings all knelt, bowing respectfully.
The oppressive atmosphere lifted. After the Spirit Emperor spoke and the Saint Lord assessed Huo Yuhao's strength, they had their answer.
Perhaps he posed a deadly threat to them, but to the Saint Lord, that reincarnated deity was nothing more.
The Saint Lord nodded with satisfaction, then added: "All of you, go prepare. Spirit Emperor, stay."
"Yes!"
The Emperors answered in unison, filing out of the hall. Footsteps faded down the gray-white corridor, and the doors closed behind the last Emperor with a dull echo.
The vast hall held only the Saint Lord on his throne and the Spirit Emperor kneeling below.
The Saint Lord looked down at him, his eyes glinting. "Spirit Emperor, do you wish to go further?"
The Spirit Emperor's eyes widened in disbelief. But he quickly composed himself and said solemnly, "Saint Lord, the current Abyss Plane doesn't support anyone besides you becoming a deity."
"I didn't say I'd make you a deity. I said I'd help you advance your spiritual power further."
The Saint Lord's tone was indifferent. "You've long been ready to elevate your divine consciousness to the next level, haven't you?"
The Spirit Emperor nodded. "Yes, but a forced breakthrough wouldn't be stable."
As the Abyss's second-in-command, his strength could genuinely rival the divine level—far surpassing the Blazing Emperor.
The cost was simply absorbing enough Abyss energy to push his spiritual power to the next level.
But such a forced breakthrough wouldn't be stable, so he'd held back.
"The third layer's Plane Seed was taken by Huo Yuhao. He'll eventually do something with it. I have no intention of wasting origin energy to create another Plane Seed for the third layer, nor do I want to waste the massive Abyss energy from its collapse. So I'll grant you part of that energy to break through your spiritual bottleneck. I'll personally help you stabilize your divine consciousness afterward."
The Saint Lord revealed his plan.
Having another divine-level subordinate might buy him time in the final battle—or serve some other purpose.
Better than the Blazing Emperor, who had been killed in a few moves.
A windfall falling from the sky—the Spirit Emperor felt as if in a dream. He prostrated himself again: "Thank you for your generous gift, Saint Lord!"
He had thought only when the Abyss Plane truly evolved into a Divine Realm would he have a chance to advance further. Now the Saint Lord had placed that opportunity before him.
He was about to become the Abyss Plane's second true divine-level powerhouse!
He had the Blazing Emperor's sacrifice to thank for this.
The Spirit Emperor sighed inwardly.
Blazing Emperor, it's not that I covet what you left behind—it's just that the Abyss energy is too tempting.
And this is the Saint Lord's command. As his subordinate, I can't disobey, can I?
Rest assured, I'll ask the Saint Lord to preserve your lineage.
Just as the Spirit Emperor was thinking this, the Saint Lord continued: "As for the remaining energy, part of it will be used to revive the Blazing Emperor."
He meant using the imprint the Blazing Emperor had left in the Abyss to revive him. Whether the revived Blazing Emperor was truly himself was open to interpretation.
His reasons?
First, he planned to utilize the energy from the collapsing layers—reviving the Blazing Emperor was a good use. Even if the revived version wasn't the original, he'd still be a quasi-divine—decent combat power.
Second, he'd promised to act if the Blazing Emperor fell.
Never mind whether the revived Blazing Emperor was the real one—what mattered was that he'd revived him and kept his word.
The Spirit Emperor's expression stiffened.
Without hesitation, the Saint Lord raised his hand, converting part of the third layer's Abyss creatures into energy to revive the Blazing Emperor according to his imprint.
The Spirit Emperor watched the gradually forming figure—lacking the original's agility and wisdom, his aura greatly diminished, no longer carrying divine power—and fell silent.
Was the revived Blazing Emperor really still the Blazing Emperor?
At least in the Spirit Emperor's eyes, this wasn't the one he knew.
Some people were revived, but they had already died.
***
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