Chapter 18

This is a spiritual treasure containing the laws of life and death. It uses the power of life and death to forge a world, then employs the power of that world to ensnare its enemies. Life and death cycle within, culminating in the world's detonation. To escape the shackles of such a world, one must possess the strength to shatter it, yet how many truly command such power?

Consequently, he did not hesitate to channel the poison into the Elf Matriarch. It was only later, when she healed his wounds and finally succumbed to the opportunity to strike while he was most vulnerable, that Yan Shu felt a sense of relief; in this way, he felt he had not wronged an innocent soul.

In the blink of an eye, the Red Spirit Snake’s eyes erupted into flames. Its gaze locked coldly onto Ye Yao’s life space, and as it opened its maw, it spewed forth a torrent of fire ten times more intense than before.

It must be said that the Blood Queen’s aesthetic was quite refined. Adorned with the golden silk cloud gauze, Feng Xueyan lost the icy, ethereal temperament she once possessed, replaced by a refined, royal nobility that was anything but conventional. It was, all things considered, a successful transformation.

The crowd felt helpless. Had it been anyone else, they might have resorted to threats to extract more divine tokens, but facing Yuan Shi, not a single one dared harbor such thoughts; to do so would only hasten their own demise.

After Jiang Shang awoke, he claimed only that his surname was Jiang and his given name was Ziya. With no family and no means, he had come to Zhaoge to beg for a living. Song Yiren sensed there was more to the story, but refrained from prying and allowed Jiang Ziya to stay.

Seeing Qiao Yiyi fall silent, Xu Fang could not help but stare at her, her eyes once again flashing with a frenzied light.

Chu Jian trembled slightly, looking at him in astonishment. Was he truly worried that she might be so frightened that she would not sleep soundly through the night?

Yet, the toxins within her body began to erode her consciousness once more. She felt only an overwhelming fatigue, a desperate desire to sleep. Her eyelids drooped, beyond her control.

"I can now wield this妖术 (demonic art) with ease." Manjusaka levitated a sword in the air. A blue vapor, as thick as a finger, connected the sword’s hilt to her palm. The blade danced back and forth, as if possessed of a will of its own.

The immense power of Sea God Island did not provoke resentment following Zhou Zhong’s thunderous destruction of the Dou family; rather, it only clarified in everyone’s minds just how formidable Sea God Island truly was. No one dared to oppose them again.

"Yes! Get out! Zhou’s Antique Shop get out of Antique Street!" Suddenly, nearly a hundred people began to shout, the momentum truly staggering.

Even without physical intimacy, how could a man remain unmoved with a beauty by his side? Moreover, her delicate frame and clear, natural fragrance were testing Ning Tao’s primal urges, challenging his very limits.

After the BB63 returned to port, the Provisional Executive Committee, seeking to make use of the two helicopters sent by the "Directorate," began recruiting pilots from among the transmigrators. The recruitment notice was clear: those with relevant experience must report to the Green Paint District Command Center.

The lieutenant immediately ordered ten corpses to be brought down. These were the bodies Zhou Zhong had made them carry on the return journey, specifically selecting the five masters at the fifth level of Qi Refining.

Coincidentally, the six broken lines on the Dui hexagram hinted at the concept of the "Six Realms of Sentient Beings." It was in the passage of the Gate of Death that his master was wounded; the ghost blocking the door that had harmed him was just like these sentient beings—its appearance ever-changing, manifesting in countless forms.

Even though Lan Xin had survived in the apocalypse for five days, seeing such a bloody scene made her unable to suppress her retching.

Her heart skipped a beat, and the frost-like gaze of Zi Yan suddenly lost its focus. The speed of her movements, once like a sharp arrow, became sluggish in that moment. Looking up at Zhao Ritian again, she suddenly perceived him as something akin to a deity, possessing a certain charm that left her spellbound.

However, Qi Lie was unaccustomed to spell-dueling and lacked combat experience. Amidst the dense barrage of lightning, he inevitably faltered, taking several strikes to his body.

Song Anran watched the carriage depart. She had spotted an inconspicuous emblem on the carriage; if she was not mistaken, it was a family crest. It was indeed a family with deep-rooted foundations.

"It’s fine, they’re our own!" After a brief, rhythmic knocking, Ji Mingwei breathed a sigh of relief. This was the signal he had prearranged with the two wind-attribute ability users sent out earlier.

At this moment, everyone tensed, focusing all their attention on the command to charge. Mo Junli’s expression had shifted from initial nonchalance to a cold, detached indifference.

"Your Majesty, the Sect Master misses you dearly. Just two days ago, she remarked that had she known it would be this dangerous, she never would have left. Compared to this life-or-death struggle, she would much rather be sequestered in the palace with you." Chianshan naturally understood Song Yunqian’s turmoil. Seeing the pain and conflict on his face, she could not help but offer her counsel.

Anran looked at Chen Yuanqing and could not help but shiver. His aura was somewhat similar to her father the Emperor, yet also different; clearly, the malevolence Chen Yuanqing carried was far heavier than that of Song Yungang.

Lin Han, standing opposite, suddenly felt a wave of scorching heat, as if the very air were boiling. He dodged with a turn, but this time, the flame-wreathed blade in Annabelle’s hand did not dissipate. Maintaining its form, she swung the blade of fire once more.

I was about to head to the bedroom to fetch my pajamas for a shower when I heard a knock at the door. I froze—who would be coming to see me at this hour?

Perhaps out of a guilty conscience, a hint of glee crept into Mu Yi’s voice, though he instinctively lowered it.

The blind Daoist wiped sweat from his brow in secret. In truth, the Bodhi tree and the stones on the ground had not moved at all; it was merely an illusion he had cast.