Yes, the battle was over.

Under the astonished gazes of the gathered cultivators, the Low Grade Spiritual Treasure, the Blood Cloud Mirror, rapidly shrank and plummeted from the sky.

Falling alongside it was Wen Yu.

“Who are you? Who are you?! Even if I become a ghost, I will never let you rest!”

Wen Yu’s body was already beginning to disintegrate, unraveling into ash under the residual power of the heavenly thunder. His glare fixed on Li Meng like a starving, cornered wolf.

His eyes held only resentment and confusion.

He had died? Just like that?

He was the Blood Son of the Blood Blade Sect. He had a bright future on the Grand Dao.

How could his story end here?

Li Meng glanced at the dying man with utter indifference.

He dove toward the earth, riding the wind like a falling arrow.

The Blood Blade Sect was a Demonic Path Sect. Perhaps they possessed secret arts to convert a soul to the Ghost Path after death. But under the purifying annihilation of heavenly thunder, Wen Yu wouldn’t even have the chance to become a ghost.

BOOM!

Li Meng crashed heavily onto the sand.

Without missing a beat, he flicked his sleeve.

The formation talisman and the unconscious Yellow Sand King were instantly swept up, vanishing into the Sword Nurturing Gourd at his waist.

The gourd, a rare treasure, could contain living beings.

Li Meng’s hand blurred as he formed a seal, crushing a golden, gleaming Talisman between his fingers.

Snap.

The next instant, Li Meng vanished into thin air.

“Dammit! I spaced out!”

Gong Qi slapped his forehead, his face twisted in annoyance.

Wen Yu’s death had shocked him to the core. A Foundation Establishment genius of the Blood Blade Sect had been obliterated in moments. Even a Spirit Treasure couldn’t save him.

In the brief moment Gong Qi had spent processing the shock, the old Daoist had slipped away.

“That was an Earth Shrinking Talisman,” Gong Qi muttered, scanning the empty desert. “And a high-quality one at that. He’s already miles away.”

Not far away, Deng Wu’s expression shifted.

He didn’t chase the Daoist. Instead, he rode the wind and shot straight toward the fallen Blood Cloud Mirror.

Deng Wu had sensed something wrong from the start.

The old man possessed a Heaven-Piercing Spiritual Treasure. Treasures of that caliber were not things mere Foundation Establishment cultivators could covet. The Golden Core monsters hiding in the shadows wouldn’t have remained indifferent.

Yet, even after the old Daoist used a talisman to flee, no Golden Core expert appeared. Not even his supposed guardian showed up.

It was too suspicious. Too quiet.

Deng Wu abandoned any thought of the Heaven-Piercing Treasure. It was a trap, or a risk he couldn’t afford.

“Haha! Fight me first, then we’ll decide who owns the Blood Cloud Mirror!”

Seeing Deng Wu dive for the loot, Gong Qi reacted instantly.

He laughed heartily, his voice booming like thunder across the desert.

His body erupted with explosive Astral Qi. He kicked off the air, leaving a sonic boom in his wake as he intercepted Deng Wu.

“Eat my fist!”

Gong Qi punched. The air distorted under the sheer pressure.

“You madman!”

Deng Wu’s hands flew through seal formations. His Lifebound Flying Sword hummed, glowing with cyan spiritual light.

Clang!

The sword split into two. Then four. Then eight.

They swarmed Gong Qi from every angle.

Gong Qi didn’t dodge. He punched the incoming steel.

Pop!

The flying sword vanished on impact.

An illusion! A sword shadow!

More swords rained down from all directions.

Gong Qi punched again and again. Each strike unleashed a shockwave of Astral Qi, shattering the phantom blades. But for every shadow he destroyed, two more materialized. It was a dazzling, disorienting storm of steel, making it impossible to distinguish the real blade from the fakes.

“Petty tricks! Eat this!”

Gong Qi’s aura surged violently.

He pulled back his fist and delivered a devastating blow directly ahead.

A cone of Astral Qi swept out like a hurricane, obliterating every sword shadow in its path.

Gong Qi charged through the clearing, closing in on Deng Wu.

“Get away from me!”

Deng Wu retreated rapidly, kiting the body cultivator across the sky.

For a time, the two danced in the air—one chasing, one fleeing. Sword light filled the heavens, and Astral Qi ravaged the earth.

Below them, the Blood Cloud Mirror lay in the sand.

A Low Grade Spiritual Treasure, ripe for the taking.

Yet no one dared to touch it. Any rogue cultivator who made a move would be instantly incinerated by the combined fury of the Qingyun Sect and Ziyun Sect disciples.

“Not good! The thundercloud is losing stability!”

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

The dark clouds Li Meng had summoned began to churn violently, expanding outward in a chaotic frenzy.

CRACK!

A web of lightning tore through the sky, no longer controlled, striking the earth at random.

Each bolt carried the power of a full-strength attack from a mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator.

The spectators screamed and scattered, fleeing the kill zone.

Gong Qi and Deng Wu exchanged a glance.

Without a word, they simultaneously stopped fighting and flew toward the horizon.

Fighting under a collapsing lightning storm would only result in mutual injury. If they both got hurt, they’d just be serving themselves up on a platter for someone else.

Meanwhile, high in the distant clouds.

“I will remember this,” Wu Han said, his face grim. “Farewell.”

The Blood Son was dead. The Heaven-Piercing Treasure was gone. Even the Blood Cloud Mirror was now in a contested zone that was too risky to enter.

There were other Golden Core cultivators hiding in this region. If he descended now, he risked starting a war that could lead to his own Perishing.

Wu Han had no desire to be buried alongside a junior.

After leaving his harsh parting words, Wu Han turned into a streak of light and vanished over the horizon.

Watching him flee, Wen Huanhuan curled her lip.

“Men are all the same,” she scoffed. “Talk big, run fast. His mouth is tough, but his body is frighteningly honest.”

She turned to Han Li, nestling deeper into his embrace. “Husband, do you think Senior Sister is nearby?”

Li Meng was Ruoshui’s only disciple. His guardian could only be her.

Han Li scanned the four directions with his Divine Sense.

“It’s possible.”

In the Masked Moon Peak lineage, the only Golden Core cultivator was Ruoshui. It was very likely she was hiding in the void, watching everything.

Han Li looked down at the woman in his arms.

“Junior Sister,” he said softly. “This is a good opportunity.”

Wen Huanhuan stiffened slightly. She knew exactly what he meant.

Kill Li Meng. Take the treasure.

A trace of guilt flickered in her eyes, quickly masked.

“For… forget it,” she stammered. “He possesses a Heaven-Piercing Spiritual Treasure. It’s a hot potato. If we kill him now, the Joyous Union Sect will have no place for us. We’d be hunted by the entire Righteous Path.”

Seeing the transparent guilt on her face, a flicker of amusement passed through Han Li’s eyes.

Good. It seems Junior Nephew Li is indeed quite likable.

In such a short time, the boy had managed to crack Wen Huanhuan’s twisted shell.

Han Li’s eyes grew complex.

He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

He and his Junior Sister had been companions for hundreds of years. Yet, centuries of time hadn’t brought their hearts any closer. Her attitude towards him had remained freezing cold beneath the surface.

Their public intimacy was a sham. A performance.

It was just another one of her twisted, malicious games—a symptom of a mind that had slowly warped over centuries of cultivation.

Western Region Desert. Qi Wu Mountain.

Deep within a cave halfway up the mountain.

In the darkness, a pulse of yellow spiritual light shot up from the rocky floor.

Li Meng appeared out of thin air.

The moment he materialized, his legs gave out. He slumped onto the cold stone, panting heavily.

He hurriedly retrieved a meditation cushion and crawled onto it, his hands trembling slightly. He popped the cork off a jade bottle and swallowed three Second Grade Flawless Soul Nourishing Pills in one go.

“That ‘hot potato’…” Li Meng winced, rubbing his temples. “Is indeed hot enough to burn my hands.”

He let out a bitter laugh and flicked his sleeve.

Five golden formation talismans flew out from the Sword Nurturing Gourd.

They shot to five corners of the cave, sticking to the ground.

A formation diagram, outlined in Five Elements Spiritual Power, illuminated the floor beneath Li Meng.

A thick, white mist surged from the void, instantly swallowing him.

Li Meng vanished once more.

This was the Five Phantasm Cloud Dream Formation.

It didn’t just trap intruders in a layer of illusions; it completely severed the connection to the outside world, blocking even the prying of Divine Sense.