As Vermillion Bird spread her wings across the heavens, the entire Spirit Tribe’s secret realm collapsed with a deafening roar. The very fabric of space disintegrated, leaving nothing behind. Amidst the billowing dust, the ancient god’s body stood tall, planted upon the earth of Miaojiang. Far away, within the Abyss of the Frost Chi, a malevolent remnant soul burst forth with manic laughter and descended upon Miaojiang in an instant, merging with the waiting body. Buried across two eras, the Spirit Tribe’s small world was a fully functioning world complete with its own sun, moon, and stars, and even its own “Heavenly Dao.” Yet this fully functioning world had always been incomplete. Long ago, when Zhao Changhe’s cultivation was still far from what it was today, he had seen through the illusion, understanding that the secret realm was fake, and it was through this that he realized many connections between heaven and earth. It was that insight that had propelled him toward the threshold of the Profound Control Realm. The reason this world was incomplete was that it was one with a body, yet not a soul. This was not the original plan of the Heavenly Dao. As Zhao Changhe had once surmised, the intent had simply been to plant a forged vessel within the Heavenly Tome. The world that naturally sprouted from that shell would disrupt and dilute the realms generated by the Heavenly Tome itself, weakening the Ye sisters’ control over it. But after Ye Wuming’s scheme left both sides severely wounded and the Heavenly Dao reduced to a suppressed remnant soul, this vessel became the fallback plan for resurrection. Everyone had mistaken this aberrant world as an “external enemy” sealed away by the Heavenly Dao, and many had poured heart and soul into reviving it, believing it a sword to strike back against the heavens. Yet in doing so, they were merely laying the groundwork for the Heavenly Dao’s return. Lie and Ye Jiuyou had both done much in secret, unwittingly serving the Heavenly Dao’s cause. The missing key had long been included in the so-called “prophecy.” Even White Tiger and Vermillion Bird themselves could not resist the allure of seeing what would happen when they were gathered together. Zhao Changhe was no exception. But once they stepped in, it was already too late. Everything they had done had led to this moment, reduced to a cruel punchline: heaven’s will is unfathomable. Now, the soul had found its vessel. Death had been the offering. In the very instant that White Tiger and Vermillion Bird perished, the resurrection became inevitable. That icy, bitter hatred, newly unsealed, instantly made the hearts of all beings quiver. On this mid-autumn night, winter descended and snow blanketed the earth. However, just as the remnant soul howled and surged into the body, a blazing Vermillion Bird descended from the sky, its wings crashing downward to intercept it. The fiercest flame beneath heaven reversed even the deepest cold. The fresh-fallen snow vanished in an instant, consumed across the entire divine land. Within the inferno, the remnant soul twisted into the visage of a demonic face. The face grinned with malice, its features warped in agony as it burned. If the Abyss of the Frost Chi had once sealed this hatred, then the fire of the Vermillion Bird was its ultimate nemesis. The demonic face loomed over the heavens, its voice echoing through the hearts of all, “Vermillion Bird... You’re courting death!” The Four Idols Formation’s power gathered, and this power then surged upward. The stars of the Four Idols reappeared, gleaming across the skies. This was a clash of the primordial essences of two worlds. The three realms trembled. The divine land quaked. The Eastern Sea howled. It was as if the end of the world had returned once more. Was a third era to come? But at such a critical moment, what was Zhao Changhe doing? And where was Ye Wuming? At the moment of Huangfu Qing’s rebirth, Zhao Changhe sat cross-legged in the void. Before him lay the eviscerated body of Han Wubing. In Zhao Changhe’s hands was the severed arm Han Wubing had once lost. Curiously, Han Wubing’s corpse was desiccated and lifeless, yet the severed arm appeared full of vitality, like the limb of the living. Where the arm had been cut, a soft glow pulsed. Slowly, it drifted toward Han Wubing’s shoulder, reattaching itself. That arm, which was brimming with life, began to reverse the state of the body. Blood surged from the arm back into the heart and then spread to the rest of the body. Before long, even the gaping wound in Han Wubing’s torso visibly closed. His flesh reknit, his organs realigned, and his body was once again whole. Han Wubing’s eyes opened, and they looked very different from before. Gone was the crimson haze that had completely covered his eyes not long ago. He stared at Zhao Changhe in silence for a few moments, then asked, puzzled, “That saber strike just now... What was it called? Why does it feel like the chains on my soul have been shattered, as if I’ve stepped beyond fate itself...? It’s strange, but so incredibly real...” Zhao Changhe gave a faint smile. “The strike is called Severing Karma.” Han Wubing’s expression shifted subtly. Zhao Changhe continued, “Do you feel like your cultivation has regressed? Like it has returned to the Profound Mysteries Realm.” Han Wubing flexed his restored arm and nodded. “Yes. Why is that?” “Because I severed your connection to White Tiger. From now on, you are only Han Wubing.” Han Wubing’s gaze turned strange. The power behind Zhao Changhe’s saber was something beyond his comprehension, beyond even the reach of the ancient White Tiger. “...And the ancient White Tiger?” “The essence of the ancient White Tiger is now fused into the Four Idols Formation, battling the remnant of the Heavenly Dao above. He knows what’s at stake, and I believe that he’s preparing to die. Do you want to save him?” Han Wubing remained silent for a long while before finally shaking his head. “For White Tiger, death is a release. His rightful end is to return to dust, just like the Four Idols of the ancient era.” “I thought you’d want to merge with him again. That way, you might forge a present-day White Tiger strong enough to break through the third layer of the Profound Control Realm.” “There’s no need. Yue Hongling will carry on his will. As for me...” Han Wubing paused, then shook his head slightly. “Old Zhao... if I were to ask you for a favor now, would it be... a bit shameless? After everything I’ve done that hardly counts as friendly, you still labored to sever my karma.” Zhao Changhe chuckled. “Those were burdens from the ancient era. As Han Wubing, you’ve never wronged me. On the contrary. Speak, what does my brother need?” Han Wubing enunciated each word slowly, “Please shatter this cage.” Zhao Changhe looked up at the sky. The Vermillion Bird spread its wings, and the Four Idols unfolded across the firmament, binding the hate-filled remnant soul of the Heavenly Dao within the void. He rose slowly, drew his blade, and looked toward the sky. “This cage imposed upon you, I will cut it down... But the barriers of your own making, Han Wubing, are yours to break.” As his words fell, his expression suddenly shifted. He clutched his chest and bent over in pain. Han Wubing rushed to support him. “What’s wrong?” Zhao Changhe’s face was pale. He drew a deep breath and whispered, “The Spirit Tribe’s gu... something’s wrong.” Vermillion Bird and White Tiger had both only feigned death before rebirth. So then what of the so-called revival of the Spirit Tribe’s land? Was it just watered-down wine, a false ritual? The earth had indeed risen, yet all that stood was a soulless, mindless stone giant, rampaging across the land. This reborn body was severely flawed. It had no soul, and neither did it have flesh or blood. This body was made only of stone. And yet, its destructive power remained immense. It bore the might of a miniature world, and a single stomp could flatten a thousand mountains. Ye Jiuyou soared into the air, locking it down with all her strength. The stone giant roared to the heavens, and yet it could not shake off the slender figure clinging to it like a shadow. That mighty stomp hung frozen in midair, unable to descend. Ye Jiuyou, too, wielded the power of a world. And in the absence of a guiding will from the Spirit Tribe’s realm, it still could not overcome her. But then, Ye Jiuyou noticed something strange. The stone began to transform into flesh. Her brow furrowed. The sacrifices of Vermillion Bird and White Tiger had been impure. Where, then, had this new catalyst for fleshly rebirth come from? In the distance, Piaomiao’s expression shifted. She could clearly feel that the Spirit Tribe’s sacred beasts, such as the Blood Ao, were keening skyward and dying one by one, their flesh and blood offered up in sacrifice, merging into the stone giant. The ancestral prayers and offerings of the Spirit Tribe, spanning entire eras, had all been aiding the Heavenly Dao in regenerating its flesh. Thus, their cultivation had always been of the flesh, and the gu insects were but parasites born of this very husk. The Heavenly Dao had sown its seeds across two eras, embedding agents deep within the Spirit Tribe. Cries of agony echoed across the land. The gu that had long dwelled within their hosts now tore their way out, taking soul and flesh alike into the colossus. Piaomiao closed her eyes and raised her arms. The vast power of the mountains and rivers shielded the Spirit Tribe’s bloodline, forcefully halting the flesh and blood witchcraft. “No wonder Changhe didn’t want me on the battlefield... This isn’t just a duel between demon gods. The very lifespans of all living things are being fed to him. Is this what Jiuyou meant by the Furnace of Heaven and Earth? How cruel... Does He not see the lives within the magical treasure to be actual lives?” Sisi coughed up blood, clutching her heart as she stared at the howling giant, her eyes brimming with hatred. What ancestral god? What Spirit-Controlling Techniques? The ones controlled had always been the people themselves. Flesh and blood witchcraft had always demanded sacrifice, and it had always been themselves. She should have realized it back when Zhao Changhe broke the “forbidden land”... To think that she once fed him the Heart-Bonding Gu. Had she doomed him instead? The pain in her chest was nothing compared to the torment of guilt, of realizing that she had harmed the one she loved. Who could have guessed that the gu arts honed over two whole eras had always been a curse upon their own people? Then, a voice sounded from her heart. It was Zhao Changhe. “Sisi, don’t be afraid. I was prepared for this.” Sisi surged with joy. “You’re okay?” Zhao Changhe said, “Any spell or technique has its side effects. Using gu to seize the heart is still just a technique. If we can break it, the backlash will be His to bear. But right now, we can only rely on ourselves. Do you have the courage?” Beyond the three realms, floating in the void, Ye Wuming hung in the gloom, eyes closed, gazing down at the world laid out below like an open book, like a god overlooking their creation. Before her, the stars converged, forming a humanoid shape bit by bit. This was the body of the original Heavenly Dao, destroyed in the last era when she self-detonated to take it down, now slowly reassembling. Visually, it was surreal. Though the form seemed no larger than Ye Wuming herself, it somehow held the entire world of the Heavenly Tome in the palm of its hand. It was a distortion of scale that defied comprehension. This was the original Heavenly Dao. The body of the world of the Heavenly Tome was merely a shell. His true self had always lingered outside. “I originally thought... the revival of the Spirit Tribe’s homeland would consume all your and Ye Jiuyou’s attention,” said the shadowy figure as it coalesced. “But I never expected... It turns out you weren’t needed at all. Humanity has already managed to assemble a force powerful enough to grasp the reins of this era. All those meticulous arrangements of yours, and in the end, you’ve just handed everything over to Zhao Changhe like a disengaged overseer?” Ye Wuming replied evenly, “Others may not know, but I have already merged with the Heavenly Tome and partially assimilated into the Heavenly Dao. I understand clearly that what the world calls destiny, fate, the unseen will of heaven... none of it refers to me. The page of troubled times that manifests chaos even without my hand, as well as those prophecies that write themselves, are all still part of the Heavenly Dao. You never truly vanished. You were always going to return. And that lingering hatred? It was bait, planted to mislead me into believing it was all that remained of you.” “As expected of you.” The Heavenly Dao sighed. “Then the chaos now unfolding is something you allowed? Or maybe I should say, something you created yourself?” “I’ve been waiting for you,” Ye Wuming said coolly. “The will of heaven is intangible and elusive. I cannot trace where you are, but I knew that if you still intended to eliminate me and Ye Jiuyou, you’d have to descend eventually. The revival of the body of the Spirit Tribe’s ancient god, the resulting global upheaval, and the gathering of the world’s strongest—all of it provides the perfect opportunity for your return amid the chaos. And I’ve waited a long time for this moment.” “Ye Wuming will always be Ye Wuming...” The Heavenly Dao chuckled. “But you should also understand that no matter what you do, even if you already dragged me down with you, sealed yourself willingly inside the Heavenly Tome, and chose never to reincarnate... the cycle still repeats. Even if a new era begins, nothing will change. You could not kill me. Do you really think that Zhao Changhe can? Well, in all fairness, perhaps he can. But not today. You’re rushing things. He’s made astounding progress in just three years, but all of that? That was me feeding him illusions.” Ye Wuming fell silent. Zhao Changhe, more perceptive than anyone, had already begun to sense that something was off with his rapid progress. It was a kind of predestination, a manipulated fate. A small part of it came from Ye Wuming herself, but the greater force stemmed from that shadowy “will of heaven.” Just when he believed that reaching the third layer of the Profound Control Realm placed him among the apex of this world’s powers, the truth that his cultivated power was nothing but an illusion granted by the Heavenly Dao may just well prove fatal. And yet, knowing this changed nothing. Ye Wuming could not resolve it either. All she could do was take the fight to the Heavenly Dao herself. She had never pinned her hopes on Zhao Changhe. He only needed to deal with worldly matters. As for this, she had already made her plans. “You truly think that if you can stop me, the rest of them can handle the situation within?” The Heavenly Dao sneered. “You trust them, but they don’t trust you. They could have prevented the revival of the ancient god’s body entirely, yet they chose to let it linger, half-dead and half-alive. Why? Because they were fishing too, waiting to see what you would do when the body awakened. You should’ve seen the look on Ye Jiuyou’s face when you didn’t appear. It was like she’d swallowed a rotten duck egg. So even she can make a face like that... Ha... Hahaha...” Ye Wuming gave no reply. To her, it seemed more likely that Zhao Changhe had orchestrated this to assist her in ambushing the Heavenly Dao. True, he could have stopped everything from happening, but if he did, where would the elusive Heavenly Dao hide its seeds next? Rather than remain paranoid and on edge, it was better to use this as bait and lure it out. Besides, this gave Vermillion Bird the chance to shatter her own chains and brought Han Wubing’s karma to a close. That was only her guess. Zhao Changhe now often communicated through transmissions alone, and his thoughts remained hidden even from her. She could no longer see through all he had planned. If her guess proved true, then Zhao Changhe’s grasp of time and karma had already surpassed expectations. He was no longer a piece on the board; he was playing the game from the clouds above. But has he truly become that strong? The Heavenly Dao laughed. “It’s just like the previous era. If you people could trust one another, it would make my work far more difficult. But sadly, you’re just as pathetic now. Because of me, you dare not trust anyone. And with that attitude, no one will ever trust you in return. You’ll never fight side by side. That, too, is your fate, your inescapable destiny. Ye Wuming, you will never escape this cage.” At last, Ye Wuming replied, “They don’t trust me, and that’s fine. Their business is their own. Mine has never been their concern.” The Heavenly Dao laughed again. “Then let’s see whether Zhao Changhe is truly the man you believe he is. Let’s see what becomes of that Heart-Seizing Gu[1] of his... Is their mutual trust not laughable? I can’t even decide whether it’s touching or pathetic.” Ye Wuming lifted her hand. Power surged within her palm as if it held the very weight of the heavens. With a light press, her jade hand met the Heavenly Dao’s oncoming strike. Their clash was devoid of spectacle. There was no snow falling in midsummer, no fire engulfing the sky. Just a single palm against a single fist. Even the sound of their impact was faint. Had Zhao Changhe seen it, he would have found it eerily similar to that final strike Ye Jiuyou once launched against him. This was a return to essence—an attack like the event horizon of a black hole. The two forces locked together, seemingly deadlocked. In truth, everything—the so-called interference of the Heavenly Dao, the so-called unfathomable Heaven’s Will—was sealed within that palm. Nothing within the Heavenly Tome would be touched by them now. So, the struggle against the Heart-Seizing Gu was left entirely to them alone. If he and Sisi could reverse the spell and cause a backlash, then that moment would be the one Ye Wuming had been waiting for all along. 1. The author specifically changed the terminology here, but the “Heart-Seizing Gu” and the “Heart-Bonding Gu” should be one and the same. ☜