The fierce battle between the three great holy lands and Fang Ting's trio had dragged on for nearly half an hour without a clear victor. Fang Ting couldn't help but reflect: though his physique was incredibly strong, it didn't provide enough raw combat power on its own. Only with the aid of two sacred weapons could he barely hold his ground against the Zhenyi Holy Lord, who was one realm higher. He didn't even have a true celestial body. If it had been one of the top-tier saint physiques that boosted combat strength, he could've easily slaughtered the Zhenyi Holy Lord multiple times over by now. Just like his three sons: Fang Yundao with the Innate Dao Physique, Fang Kong with the Void Treasure Body, Fang Hao with the Archaic Saint Physique, and Qū Wúbìng with the Battle Immortal Bloodline. With physiques that formidable, they could challenge across realms even at the Emperor level—though not indefinitely. If the Zhenyi Holy Lord could hear Fang Ting's thoughts, he'd be absolutely furious: "I'm the damn Holy Lord of the Zhenyi Holy Land, a top-tier expert of Cangzhou in this generation! And you're disappointed that you can't overpower me across realms? Be a human, will you?!" Despite wanting to keep using the Zhenyi Holy Lord as a training dummy, Fang Ting's instincts told him that continuing this fight would be disastrous. Most importantly, their true objective here was the Myriad Mountain Emperor's legacy. Burning all their resources just for one sacred herb would be a colossal waste. So, Fang Ting sent a voice transmission: "I've got a bad feeling about this. Let's go. We can't keep fighting." "I'm uneasy too," Yin Xianhong agreed. Just as Shen Hongyi was about to propose retreat, five figures cloaked in black mist suddenly descended—completely out of nowhere. These five quickly formed a pincer formation with the three holy land experts, surrounding Fang Ting's group. They were the five Saint King experts from the Southern Region's Five Great Demon Sects—old enemies of the Fang Clan. The Netherworldt Sect's leader sneered in a voice transmission: "Tsk, tsk... and here I thought you were up against a real threat. Turns out they're not even as strong as you, and you still couldn't finish the job?" The sarcasm was palpable. The Taichu Holy Lord snapped back: "You think they're easy to deal with? Two of them are Shenque Prefects—Yin Xianhong and Shen Hongyi! Let's see how fast you can take them down!" Hearing this, the demon sect experts paused in surprise. "What a coincidence. Two Shenque Prefects? Then we have to get involved." "I've had enough of them for ages!" "I've been drooling over Yin Xianhong for a while now. Can't we leave her alive so I can have some fun?" "Focus. Time to act!" Their discussion lasted barely a moment—then they attacked immediately. As demon cultivators, their assaults unleashed overwhelming demonic energy that engulfed the land for miles. Wails of ghosts and howls of demons echoed across the battlefield. Fortunately, Fang Ting's trio had been prepared. The moment the five arrived, they retreated without hesitation. "Think you can run?!" Normally, if it were someone else, they might have just driven them off without chasing. After all, the opponents were also Saint Kings—hard to kill. But these weren't just anyone—they were long-standing targets of elimination. The holy lands and demon sects couldn't let such a golden opportunity slip away. The Taichu Holy Lord quickly snatched the sacred herb, and the eight of them gave chase. Seeing this, Fang Ting had no choice but to start using some of his trump cards. As various escape-type treasures were thrown out, the gap between the two sides widened until they completely lost track of Fang Ting's group. Their strengths were comparable—without a restraining formation or treasure, it was near-impossible to keep them from escaping. It was only thanks to their prior planning that Fang Ting's group had reacted fast enough. Once the trio's auras disappeared from divine sense range, the eight pursuers were left bitter and frustrated. "Damn it! They got away!" "Seems like they were prepared for this." Curses and complaints flew. It was a missed opportunity—and finishing them off in the future would be a far harder task. The Grand Elder of the Tianhuang Holy Land complained: "You lot could've at least prepared something to trap them! Just waltzing out like that—of course they ran!" "Yeah! You could've hidden and ambushed them!" The demon sect leaders burst into ironic laughter. They'd come all this way to help, and now they were being blamed? The Netherworld Sect leader snapped: "How were we supposed to know what was happening? We rushed here the moment we got the signal—worried we'd be too late. And this is the thanks we get?" "Right! If we'd known, we wouldn't have come. For all we know, you'd have lost without us!" The Zhenyi Holy Lord shot back: "Then pretend you were never here. Leave, now." The Heavenly Demon Sect leader growled: "What's that supposed to mean? Use us and toss us away with nothing in return?!" As tensions escalated and a new fight threatened to erupt, the Taichu Holy Lord quickly stepped in to mediate. He offered compensation, and only then did the Five Demon Sects leave—grumbling and dissatisfied. The Taichu Holy Lord was left seething. This first cooperation had ended in failure, and he doubted there'd ever be a second. Meanwhile, Fang Ting and his companions had already retreated far into the distance. Though they had lost a sacred herb that was practically within their grasp, they had survived a coordinated ambush by eight Saint Kings without injury. That alone was a victory. Shen Hongyi muttered, "Those five newcomers were all demonic cultivators—definitely the Five Great Demon Sects of the Southern Region." "Without a doubt," Yin Xianhong added. "Other nearby regions have demonic sects too, but none on their level." "Can't believe they've joined forces …" Fang Ting's eyes darkened. In all of Cangzhou, only these eight hegemonic powers were still actively opposing the Fang Clan. The Three Holy Lands and the Southern Region remained the only places where Wanbao Pavilion and Drunken Immortal Pavillion had yet to establish a foothold. But sooner or later, old scores and new ones alike… would all be settled. Shen Hongyi and Yin Xianhong exhaled deeply. The tension lingered. If they hadn't been prepared, escaping unharmed would've come at a serious price. "Let's find a place to rest for now." Google seaʀᴄh Nov3lFɪre.ɴet They had fought with the holy land elites for a long time, then exhausted themselves further fleeing from eight top-tier enemies. The toll was immense—and they needed to recover.