Hoolay's movements froze in an instant, as though time itself slowed upon him.
Jingliu did not immediately pursue. She slowly raised the longsword in her hand, the tip pointing straight at the heavens.
The surging sword intent and frigid aura around her converged madly upon the blade's tip, like a hundred rivers returning to the sea.
"Then let this moonlight illuminate all rivers!"
Her voice remained cool and indifferent.
Daylight dimmed abruptly, as if all radiance were drawn into the sword tip.
The next moment, a beam of lunar sword qi—so brilliant and cold it defied description—fell from the sky.
As the sword qi descended, a massive, translucent domain of glacial ice formed, completely enshrouding Hoolay and the surrounding space.
Within the domain, time seemed frozen. Light warped. All things fell silent. Only endless cold spread outward, freezing all existence.
Hoolay felt an unprecedented threat of death—one that surpassed even the moment he was frozen centuries ago.
He burned his life origin frantically, even at the cost of overdrawing the foundational bloodline of the Borisin. The Blood-Moon Warblade keened under the strain. He tried to break free of the domain's absolute stasis.
"Jingliu, in the centuries since you defeated me, I have thought of nothing but how to break your power."
His heartbeat pounded like drums. Blood roared through his veins fast enough to explode. His skin temperature surged, hot enough to melt steel, a self-destructive internal combustion to resist the absolute zero that froze even thought.
"Let me show you a power fueled by my very life."
"I… will not… die!!"
He let out a twisted, maddened roar—and actually managed to move, ever so slightly, within the domain.
Yet Jingliu's gaze remained calm as still water, even carrying a trace of… detached pity?
"Futile."
She parted her red lips and uttered a single word.
Yes, Hoolay had found a method to counter the power of ice—an approach worthy of being called genius.
But between them lay a fundamental gap. Jingliu might not have been at her peak, but she was here in her true body.
Hoolay, however, was merely a memory-body sustained by the Grail. His strength not only fell short of his true self—it was far beneath the current Jingliu.
Moreover, Jingliu's greatest strength had never been ice, but the swordsmanship that could cleave the stars—her true core.
Under that terrifying sword intent, the heat Hoolay had kindled with his life burned like a guttering candle in the wind and was swiftly snuffed out.
The blood-glow upon his body dimmed and shattered. Regenerating flesh could not keep up with the ceaseless annihilation wrought by the sword qi.
His struggle, his unwillingness, his centuries of obsession—all of it, together with his consciousness, was frozen by that cold moonlight and reduced to nothing.
The domain dissipated.
Hoolay, still locked in his desperate pose, became a lifeless, crystalline ice sculpture, the madness and roar on his face eternally fixed.
Jingliu slowly descended from the air. The waxing-waning state ended; the eerie red light faded from her eyes. Her expression returned to normal, her breath steady and long, as if she had done nothing of consequence.
She did not spare the ice statue another glance. She turned away, eyes settling on another battlefield.
To her, destroying the memory remnant of a defeated underling warranted no attention.
On the other side, the battle between Sea God Tang San and the Silver Dragon King, Gu Yuena, had reached a fever pitch.
Tang San's divine-sense avatar forced himself to calm from the shock of the Silver Dragon King's sudden appearance, his face grave.
Sensing its master's battle intent, the Seagod Trident burst into towering gold-blue divine light. Godly power surged like a vast ocean, oppressing all around.
"Disorderly Storm!"
He struck first with a field-control divine art. The golden trident traced profound arcs in the air; massive golden halos, each several meters wide and inscribed with Seagod runes, manifested out of nothing. They did not travel in straight lines but instead sealed off every possible path of movement from every direction, layering upon each other to confine and suppress Gu Yuena.
A sliver of disdain crossed Gu Yuena's peerlessly beautiful face.
She did not move an inch. The silver glow about her flickered—the mark of absolute mastery over space.
All the incoming halos, upon entering within ten meters of her, seemed to fall into a labyrinth of layered space. Their speed dropped to a crawl and their paths twisted, as if struggling through viscous amber.
She merely lifted her slender hand, five fingers lightly curling.
Hum!
The space around rippled gently, like waves on a pond.
All the halos were deftly nudged aside by an unseen hand, missing her by a hair's breadth and crashing into the ruins behind her. They shattered into showers of golden motes, failing to so much as brush her hem.
"Seagod."
Gu Yuena's voice was ethereal and imperious, befitting the sovereign of soul beasts.
"With only a wisp of divine sense, you dare strut before me? Who gave you the courage?"
Before her words had fully fallen, she lifted a jade hand. Her long fingertip tapped lightly at the air ahead.
"Elemental Tide: Annihilation."
This was not a mere gathering of elements.
Earth, fire, water, wind, light, darkness, space—the laws of seven elements were invoked, harmonized, and amplified at once.
A roaring seven-colored torrent, over ten meters across, surged forth, its hues shifting within as if holding the birth and death of universes.
Where it passed, space was not torn but erased, like being rubbed out by an eraser, revealing the chaos below. All things—matter or energy—were decomposed, assimilated, and reduced to their most basic particles.
A tide violent enough to annihilate even divine power.
Tang San's face changed drastically. From that seven-colored torrent, he felt a mortal threat far beyond what this wisp of divine sense could endure.
He dared not hold anything back. He poured all Seagod power into the Golden Trident.
"Golden Thirteen Halberds: Millennia of Empty Quiet!"
With a roar he swung the trident. In an instant, tens of thousands of solid, golden halberd-shadows were born. They were not chaotic but arranged like the most disciplined army, layering into a vast, dazzling golden defensive array that spanned before the elemental tide.
Divine power resonated and circulated through the halberd-shadows, striving to dissolve the destructive impact with the Seagod's vastness and resilience.
Rumble—!!!
The seven-colored torrent slammed into the golden halberd array.
In that moment, it was as if two stars collided.
The blast's light made the sun pale. Space at the epicenter shattered like a mirror, forming a briefly existing black hole that devoured everything nearby.
A circular shockwave spread unbridled, leveling the distant ruins and even altering the very terrain.
After holding out for a few breaths, the golden array finally began to crumble and disperse.
Tang San grunted. His divine-sense body trembled violently, becoming several degrees more transparent—a clear sign of heavy shock.
Would Gu Yuena relent at such an advantage? Not a chance. She pressed the attack without giving him so much as a breath.
She did not reveal her true Silver Dragon King form, but a colossal phantom claw, covered in crystalline silver scales and with talon-tips gleaming with seven-hued law, coalesced out of the air.
At its appearance, it was as though the world's laws bowed in submission. With a primal, star-rending, law-shattering pressure, it ignored space itself and struck down toward Tang San.
Tang San felt an unprecedented mortal danger, enough to unsettle even this wisp of his divine sense.
With an unwilling roar, he burned his remaining divine sense recklessly.
The Golden Trident gave a final, sorrowful cry and transformed into a colossal gold-blue pillar of light, as if propping up heaven and earth, meeting the descending dragon claw.
It was the last and strongest strike he could wring from this fragment of himself.
The second, even more terrifying collision exploded.
The gold-blue beam smashed into the seven-colored dragon claw.
No sound could be heard—sound itself was swallowed by pure energy annihilation.
Only indescribable glare swept over everything, forming an ever-expanding sphere of energy.
At last, after a brief stalemate, the claw-phantom faded away.
And Tang San's ultimate strike, born of burned divine sense, also ran dry—the gold-blue beam shattered.
His divine-sense body turned almost fully transparent and dull, on the verge of dissipating. His aura withered to the extreme.
"Silver Dragon King… why… are you here…"
Tang San's voice was full of rage, confusion, and an inescapable weakness.
He could not fathom why the Silver Dragon King would appear here and now—and as his foe.
By his knowledge, she should have still been hidden away, sleeping off her wounds.
Gu Yuena couldn't be bothered to answer.
Cold divine light flared in her deep violet dragon eyes. Her hands closed slowly before her chest, condensing a seven-colored sphere of extreme compression in an instant—within it, countless miniature galaxies seemed to be born and die, brimming with ultimate destructive power.
Space around it twisted violently.
"It's over, Seagod."
Her red lips parted, declaring the final verdict.
The seven-colored orb vanished from her hands—and in the next instant, ignoring all distance, it appeared within Tang San's nearly transparent divine-sense body—space jump.
He had no time to react. Shock and unwillingness froze on his face.
"No—!!!"
Only a final, despairing roar sounded—and then the seven-colored orb detonated within him.
Blinding prismatic light devoured that wisp of Seagod's divine sense completely. Within it, countless elements seemed to explode and annihilate.
When the light faded, that fragment of Tang San, the Seagod, had vanished without a trace—not even the tiniest particle of energy remained—erased from existence by the Silver Dragon King's ultimate strike, condensed from multiple elemental essences.
As the brilliance died, Gu Yuena slowly lowered her hands. Her flawless face was cold and detached, as if she'd brushed away a speck of dust.
She tilted her head slightly and looked toward Jingliu, giving a slight nod.
Jingliu looked back just as calmly, her cool gaze unruffled, and nodded in return.
Two equally formidable women had dispatched their foes swiftly and decisively with overwhelming power.
Over the ruins, only Hoolay's ice sculpture stood in silence, while the lingering ripples of energy had yet to fully fade.
Above Mingdu, the tide of destruction had subsided for now, but sorrow and deathly stillness spread.
Tang Wutong stood dazed, the color drained from her breathtaking face, like a delicate glaze stripped of all luster.
Her empty gaze fixed on the spot where the Seagod Tang San's phantom had just vanished. Only a few drifting motes of golden light remained, like guttering candles in the wind, singing a last elegy.
"Dad…?"
She murmured, voice thin as a dream, trembling with disbelief. "No… impossible. Father is a God King—how could he?"
She tried to sense that familiar, warm Seagod power—but touched only icy nothingness.
The Seagod's power that had shielded her and given her courage and confidence was truly gone.
A fear she had never known and a marrow-deep chill seized her heart in an instant, stealing her breath.
She was the daughter of a God King, adored since childhood. Tang San, in her heart, was omnipotent—her eternal support.
But now, part of that support had been shattered before her eyes, destroyed to protect her.
The shock and ineffable grief drowned her. Strength and thought deserted her.
Her slender body swayed. The light in her eyes went out completely, leaving only confusion and pain, as if the world was collapsing before her.
Her will, in that moment, sank to the bottom.
And just then—while Tang Wutong's mind was unguarded and defenseless—
A golden figure appeared soundlessly behind her.
The newcomer held a Golden Dragon Spear. Her features were strikingly similar to Tang Wutong's, though wilder and colder—Wang Qiu'er.
Her gaze was infinitely complicated. Looking at the defenseless, shattered Tang Wutong, a flicker of struggle flashed deep within her eyes—but was consumed by a fiercer yearning.
A yearning for a complete soul. A pursuit of true independence.
Opportunity knocks but once.
The last trace of hesitation in Wang Qiu'er's eyes hardened into icy resolve.
The Golden Dragon Spear thrummed low. Without the slightest hesitation, it became a razor-edged golden streak, driving straight for Tang Wutong's unguarded back.
"Squelch—!"
The sound of blade through flesh was so clear—and so cruel.
"Uhh…"
Tang Wutong's body jerked rigidly. The sharp pain pulled a fleeting moment of focus into her scattered gaze.
She lowered her head with difficulty, disbelief in her eyes, staring at the blood-stained golden spear tip protruding from her chest.
She tried to turn, but had no strength left. Still, she knew who stood behind her.
Life fled her swiftly with her shattered heart.
The crushing grief of her father's fall had not yet faded before it was joined by the shock and pain of her own mortal wound.