"Shhh…"
Lu Ping's voice was soft.
"Not so loud."
His eyes flickered briefly like a crazy person toward the surrounding forest.
"Even the trees… might be listening."
Yang Wei's body stiffened and cold sweat formed on his back.
Up close, Lu Ping's presence felt suffocating. There was something fundamentally wrong about him—not just strength, but a kind of madness barely restrained beneath the surface.
Lu Ping straightened slightly, a faint smile curling on his lips.
"You do understand," he said casually, "that this little encounter isn't an isolated incident."
Yang Wei's pupils contracted.
"You don't mean—"
Lu Ping's smile widened.
"Let's just say…"
He glanced at the corpses scattered across the battlefield, then at Ma Hongjun's lifeless head in his hand.
"…the sun has already set for the Tang Sect"
Yang Wei's face was pale, he felt the madness inside this man like a fanatic.
-----
Crania Town
Not far from the battlefield where the Tang Sect forces had just been annihilated, a lone figure stood amidst the shadows of the forest.
He was tall, his frame still imposing despite the slightly withered look of his skin. His presence carried the weight of countless battles, an aura that would normally make others instinctively retreat.
He was Bone Douluo, Gu Rong—one of the pillars of the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Clan whose name resounded across the Douluo Continent as a strong person
And yet…At this moment, the famously arrogant Titled Douluo was drenched in cold sweat.
His breathing was uneven in fear, because standing before him was a blonde girl.
Her appearance was almost identical to the one he had encountered years ago in the Star Dou Forest. The same delicate features, the same golden hair that shimmered faintly even in the dim light.
Her facial features carried certain resemblance to that person in his memory.
The name associated with her had become something that people no longer dared to utter, even in whispers :Qian Renxue.
The girl tilted her head slightly, observing him with quiet curiosity.
"Are you afraid?"
Her voice was soft, almost gentle, however Gu Rong did not respond.
It wasn't that he refused to speak—his body simply wouldn't obey. An invisible pressure weighed down on him, suppressing even the slightest movement.
The silence stretched, yet she did not seem bothered. Instead, she continued, her tone calm.
"Does your clan leader truly believe himself to be shrewd… simply because he knows how to profit from trade?"
Her eyes rested on him, but it felt as though they were looking through him.
"Your spatial abilities," she went on, "are the reason why the Tang Sect, under Ma Hongjun, has repeatedly escaped."
"So I find myself wondering…" she said softly, taking a slow step forward, "what could possibly make Ning Fengzhi allow one of his most important pillars… to take on such a risky role?"
.
"It wouldn't be something trivial.....It is because of a divine inheritance, isn't it?"
Gu Rong's eyes widened instinctively.
Her tone carried a hint of amusement.
"It seems that with the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda evolving… and its descendants continuing to inherit it…"
"…Ning Fengzhi believes he can maneuver his way through anything."
"He believes," she continued, her gaze sharpening, "that he can slip past HER gaze."
Bone Douluo, Gu Rong forced himself to move.
The suffocating pressure around him made even breathing difficult, yet instinct screamed at him to escape—no matter the cost.
"Ninth Soul Skill: Ossified Dragon… Divine Bone Dragon!"
A terrifying cracking sound echoed as his bones expanded and transformed. Pale white light erupted from his body, forming the phantom of a colossal skeletal dragon that coiled around him protectively. The aura of a peak Titled Douluo surged outward, shaking the surrounding forest.
"Eighth Soul Skill: Spatial Wormhole!"
Space twisted violently in front of him. A dark vortex formed, spiraling rapidly as it tore open a path through the void.
But Gu Rong did not stop there and trace of ruthlessness flashed across his face.
He began to burn his origin. A faint, almost imperceptible cracking sound echoed deep within his body as his life force ignited. His aura spiked once more, forcefully stabilizing the collapsing wormhole.
Even if this left him crippled for life—He only needed one chance to escape
For a brief moment, hope appeared in his eyes.
However before he could move, a soft whisper reached his ears.
"Nine Sun Style: Sunset Farewell."
It was like watching the final rays of the sun sinking below the horizon. Warm, quiet, and beautiful… yet carrying an indescribable finality.
For a single instant, the entire world seemed to dim.
Then—Light flashed. When it faded, Julia's figure stood behind him.
Her steps were calm, unhurried, as though she had merely walked past an ordinary passerby. In her hand, the forged sword—closest to the level of artefact made by Lou Gao—began to fracture.
Crack… crack…
Gu Rong remained standing.
His hand still stretched toward the collapsing wormhole, as if he were only a step away from escape.
But that step would never come.
A thin line appeared from the center of his forehead, running straight down his body.
Then—his body split cleanly into two and blood splashed like a fountain.
Bone Douluo, one of the pillars of the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, was dead in an unremarkable remote town.
Behind him, Julia glanced briefly at the blade in her hand as it continued to crumble.
A faint whisper escaped her lips, almost absent-minded.
"It seems Lou Gao still needs to refine his craft…The weapon couldn't withstand even a single strike infused with divine energy."
The broken sword finally shattered completely.