Where the Demon Gods had gathered in the starry skies, Fa Ji, the leader of the Demon Races within the bizarre mist, softly exhaled. The demonic will within his breath sizzled and danced like ghostly lightning. At that moment, the malicious thoughts he had refined into his demonic soul were surging toward his name on the demonic cloak. As his connection to the cloak had not yet been severed, Fa Ji had been able to watch as Pang Jian transformed the Thunder Pool into the Divine Court of Thunder and struck down Mou Qi. This sight had shaken him deeply. Fa Ji sensed that Pang Jian was even more formidable than he had been in the Nether Abyss. Pang Jian's combat prowess had barely waned, even without the will of the Nether Abyss aiding him. There could be only one explanation: Pang Jian's growth was simply terrifying beyond reason. "Luan Ji. Pang Jian, he..." Fa Ji started, but his voice faltered, the words caught in his throat. "Did he really kill Mou Qi using that Thunder Pool?" Tian Wei asked in disbelief. Though his name was not inscribed on the demonic cloak, he had learned from He Motian and Fa Ji about how earth-shattering the battle in the bizarre mist had been. "We probably can't even call that thing the Thunder Pool anymore," He Motian said grimly, each of his many faces shadowed with worry. "The Divine Court of Thunder that we once feared to the point of plotting its destruction has transformed under Pang Jian's care. "The Divine Court of Thunder has risen anew. The Duke of Thunder's Dao, so ruthlessly hostile to our Demon Races and the Ghost Race alike, may yet rise again, more exalted than ever in his hands." One of He Motian's faces hardened, eyes fixed on Luan Ji. "The Divine Court of Thunder has clearly evolved. Can you still not see it?" Luan Ji chuckled, still stubbornly sticking to his stance of seeing Pang Jian as one of their own. "Did the old Divine Court of Thunder ever have the ability to resurrect a fallen Thunder God?" The assembled Great Demon Gods fell silent at his words. After a brief moment of contemplation, He Motian slowly shook his head. "It's true that it never did. But still—" Luan Ji waved him off. With a tone of quiet confidence, he said, "The Duke of Thunder was the Duke of Thunder. Pang Jian is Pang Jian. The two are not the same. They cannot be spoken of in the same breath. Believe me, that Divine Court of Thunder we once feared has become something else entirely. "Pang Jian's rise—his brilliance across the bizarre mist and beyond—will, in the long run, serve our interests. "Perhaps..." Luan Ji paused in thought. "Perhaps, one day, the new will supplant the old, and the successor will stand in place of the origin." As soon as he voiced the possibility, dread struck him. Lest the Primordial Demon overheard, he hastily cast a technique. "Let it be forgotten," he whispered, wiping the words from the minds of all present. The other Great Demon Gods paled in unison. Understanding that such thoughts could not be retained, they let Luan Ji erase them from their minds. "Tch, this brat really knows how to stir up trouble. First, he ruins Sovereign Luo's plan, and now he's slain a top subordinate of the God of Wisdom," Luan Ji muttered, changing the topic with feigned nonchalance. "Still, everything we did was under the threat of Demonheaven's cloak. We had no choice. Surely, even Lady Fu Ya will understand that." In the bizarre mist, Pang Jian's Immortal Divine Soul and "Huo Ji" had split up to flee. As they fled, they each maintained a connection with their physical body, secretly attempting to open a spatial rift. However, the fabric of space had turned as unyielding as a steel plate. No matter what they tried, not even the smallest tear could be made. An ethereal voice echoed intermittently across the bizarre mist. It was the God of Wisdom. A towering silhouette shrouded the World God of the Fire Abyss first. The bluish-black figure stood imposingly in the gray bizarre mist like a primeval deity from time immemorial. The aura it exuded rolled forth like a boundless sea, overflowing with the light of wisdom, so profound it could enlighten even stone and grass into beings such as the Rock Devourer or the World Tree. Chunks of his flesh ignited like blazing charcoal, turning to ash. Pang Jian's seal on Huo Ji's soul essence had been forcibly released under the shadow of that colossal figure. Unfortunately, in his moment of liberation, he self-immolated and perished. This was not done of his own volition but that of a will far more terrifying than his own—one that exceeded even Pang Jian's understanding. Huo Ji's Divine Persona ignited as well. The divine sense that Pang Jian had embedded within it was cut off from his physical body as it burned alongside Huo Ji. The burning of his divine sense sent searing pain through both of Pang Jian's bodies. This pain was piercing, as though an inferno roared through his sea of consciousness, setting his divine soul and Divine Persona ablaze. It was agony beyond words. "Taking over another God's body is a method of soul usurpation that Sovereigns like myself created." The towering figure representing Fu Ya smiled faintly, her expression laced with knowing pride. "We perfected it and passed it on to others." With a casual wave, she erased what remained of Huo Ji and then, without sound or ripple, disappeared from that stretch of the bizarre mist. In another part of the bizarre mist, her towering, bluish-black figure appeared before Pang Jian's fleeing Immortal Divine Soul. Layers of illusion, woven from strands of soul essence and stray thoughts, peeled away like drifting petals to reveal a bluish-black spirit body beneath. This spirit body of Fu Ya had no flesh and blood, nor was it crystallized. It was a pure spirit body, untainted and whole. "How enviable," Fu Ya said, gazing at Pang Jian's Immortal Divine Soul. "A divine soul that manifests a tangible form. Only the Nether Gods of the Nether Abyss and your True Gods of the human race can ascend to godhood through Fortune. It's a path entirely distinct from ours. "I've long desired for the soul I split from myself to attain the same wonders as yours. But alas, not even I could achieve it." Fu Ya shook her head wistfully. Born of the starry skies and long proud of her unmatched mastery over the soul, she had been forced to face the unsettling truth that there were mysteries she could neither comprehend nor conquer in the domain she claimed as her own. This one in particular, lying squarely at the heart of her expertise, left her deeply unsatisfied. Knowing escape was near impossible, Pang Jian found himself sinking into calm acceptance. "I heard about your entanglements with my father and mother from Long Di while I was in the Nether Abyss. Did my mother die in the Nether Abyss because she engaged you in a battle between souls?" "There are always victors and losers in every battle," Fu Ya said with a quirk of her lips. "Had I been the one to fall, I too would have accepted my fate. But she, for the sake of a man, cast aside the bond we shared for years, insisting on fighting me to the death. "She had the support of the Nether Abyss and that vast Soulstream. Can you really accuse me of an unfair victory? "Pang Jian, your mother was one of the few I considered a true friend. I never wished to treat her that way. If you wish to blame someone, blame your father, Pang Qi."