The powerhouses of every sect scattered in all directions.
The ruined city once again sank into utter silence.
Beneath a brooding purple sky,
a waning moon hid half its body behind thick clouds,
its faint light barely illuminating the corpse of a long-dead city.
The long streets lay in ruin,
houses collapsed and decayed,
everything shrouded beneath a haze of shadow.
Yet within those streets—
it was not empty.
Stalls lined both sides of the road,
stretching into the endless darkness.
Inns and teahouses still stood,
silhouettes of fabric shops and rouge parlors faintly discernible.
Li Zhexian's eyes swept across them—and even saw a bun stall,
where a half-wrapped oil-paper parcel of buns still lay on a table.
That scene…
was like business had been going as usual—
until, in a single instant, the shopkeeper, the patrons, the entire city… simply vanished.
A gust of cold, ghostly wind rose.
From somewhere, the brown paper pasted over a window
was torn free by the wind.
Rustle, rustle—
the strips fluttered past his eyes.
Even for those at the level of Titled Douluo,
none dared be careless.
Their Spirit Power gathered tightly as they spoke in low voices:
"Were the treasures we saw before… real?"
Li Zhexian frowned in thought.
He felt—
those treasures were not mere illusion.
At least, not all of them.
Just like the Slaughter City—
bloody and perilous at every step—
yet at its core,
it was a god trial,
the secret realm forged by the Asura God to choose a successor.
Where there is peril,
there is fortune.
The Rakshasa God may be evil,
but since this secret realm was made for inheritance,
it must likewise hide opportunity within danger,
life and death hanging by a thread.
"Though Bibi Dong has passed several of the Rakshasa God's trials and commands a fragment of its power…"
"It's just like Tang Chen, the Slaughter King—who could call upon a trace of the Asura God Sword's might."
"But she hasn't truly become the Rakshasa God."
Li Zhexian's eyes gleamed faintly.
"The fact that I'm still safe…"
"proves that Bibi Dong hasn't fully mastered this Rakshasa Secret Realm."
He sent his thoughts through Spirit Power,
relaying them to Chen Xin, Feng Bailong, and the others.
They exchanged glances—and each gave a small nod.
Then Chen Xin's steps suddenly halted.
His gaze fixed to one side of the alley—
There, a candy-haw vendor's rack stood tilted,
its strings of crystal-red candied hawthorns gleaming faintly,
like cinnabar frozen in an eternal winter.
"So… where are the treasures actually hidden?" asked Gu Rong, breaking the silence.
For a while, none replied.
Then Ning Fengzhi slowly looked toward the thousands of tightly closed doors flanking the street, and said quietly:
"The greatest likelihood… is inside these houses."
Recalling the earlier sight—
the moment when every door in the city had rattled violently—
their faces all grew solemn.
Unless absolutely necessary,
none wished to test those doors again.
Just then—
Li Zhexian's expression suddenly changed.
"Seniors… have any of you seen those two black-robed men from the Sacred Dragon Sect?"
Chen Xin and Feng Bailong both frowned and shook their heads.
"No. Why?"
Li Zhexian stared hard at the closed doors.
"Before I killed Tang Lie…"
"I also slew the Sacred Dragon Sect's master, Tuoba Xi."
"But their command banner wasn't on him."
"Those two black-robed men are anything but ordinary—and they still haven't appeared."
He thought of a certain ability—
one granted by clearing a specific Rakshasa God Trial.
More precisely…
a strange, eerie power bestowed by the Rakshasa's path itself.
Just as he was about to speak further—
Whoosh—!
A cold wind rose again.
The dim purple sky darkened as the lone crescent moon disappeared entirely behind the clouds.
The faint moonlight vanished—
and the whole dead city fell into absolute darkness.
"Be careful!"
Li Zhexian and the others tightened their formation,
surrounding Ning Fengzhi at the center,
eyes scanning every direction.
Then—
Creak—scrape——
A shrill, grating sound echoed from the direction of the city gate—
like something massive being dragged across the ground…
It sounded like a rusted mechanism slowly grinding to life—
a deathly omen, the warning before the Reaper swung his scythe—
echoing through the whole city.
Li Zhexian's expression changed sharply.
He remembered the two scythe-bearing stone statues that guarded the city gate.
"Something terrible is about to happen."
The moment the words left his mouth, "Aaaahhh—!"
A tragic, shrill howl suddenly erupted from a deep alley in the southeast direction.
The sound was full of terror and pain, echoing in this dark, dead city, chilling one to the bone.
"What's happening?" Yu Yuanzhen's voice dropped into a growl.
"With their life keys in hand,
they should be able to leave at will—
so how could anyone die?"
"There's only one explanation…"
Li Zhexian's grip tightened around the Qinglian Sword.
"That thing's power is too great—
so great they couldn't even crush the key in time."
Moments later—
Across several long streets,
a towering black shadow, more than ten meters tall, came into view.
The figure was cloaked in tattered darkness.
A massive scythe dragged across the ground, screaming with the sound of metal scraping stone.
Its face was hidden.
Beneath the hood glowed two deep purple lights,
like search-beams sweeping across the entire city.
And the instant Li Zhexian's group saw it—
those cold purple eyes turned, locking directly onto them.
"Hmph!" Yu Yuanzhen snorted, lightning erupting from his body as he shot into the air.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Three clear sword cries split the darkness.
Chen Xin's Seven Kill Sword intent pierced the heavens.
Feng Bailong's body melted into the wind.
Seven Qinglian Swords danced in orbits around Li Zhe Xian.
Gu Rong summoned his Bone Dragon,
standing guard before Ning Fengzhi.
Behind the Sect Master,
the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda rose,
casting shifting hues of radiant light.
Streams of auxiliary Spirit Abilities
fell upon the five of them in turn.
In an instant—
Thunder roared like dragons!
Sword light streaked like falling stars!
The might of these four surged skyward,
undaunted, charging straight at the scythe-bearing giant!
Three Titled Douluo—
and one whose power rivaled them—
with the greatest auxiliary Spirit Master alive at their backs.
Unless they faced one who had touched the threshold of godhood,
none could stand against them.
BOOOOM——!!!
Under the pitch-dark sky,
four figures clashed with the scythe-wielding shadow.
Spirit Abilities exploded in waves,
sword light tore open the night,
lightning lit the city in blinding flashes.
Each impact shook the ruined streets,
Spirit Power shockwaves rippling outward,
shattering tiles and rattling doors.
Through the flicker of lightning,
the entire city was bathed in a ghastly white.
The thunderous din echoed for miles,
drawing every sect powerhouse's gaze toward the battle.
"That's Chen Xin and Li Zhexian!"
"They're facing that scythe-bearing giant head-on… truly fearless!"
"With three Titled Douluo and a powerhouse of equal strength,
it's no wonder they dare!"
"But that creature seems bound to the city itself… it won't fall easily!"
——
Zheng——!
While the scythe giant clashed with Chen Xin, Feng Bailong, and Yu Yuanzhen,
Li Zhe Xian's sword swept through the air—
striking cleanly across the giant's neck.
A line of dark purple split open,
thick blood spraying like a fountain.
The shadow's body was covered in wounds,
yet it swung its scythe ever faster,
its killing intent undiminished.
"Its strength… around level ninety-seven?"
"So this is all the Rakshasa Secret Realm has to offer?"
Thought flickered behind Li Zhe Xian's eyes.
He reversed his grip on the Qinglian Sword,
a platinum-gold Spirit Ring flaring beneath his feet.
"Fifth Spirit Ability—Yazi's Judgement!"
Selecting a wound inflicted by himself on the opponent, and exploding it tenfold.
Behind him, the spectral beast Yazi
threw back its head and roared.
A crimson swordlight spewed forth from its maw,
slashing directly into the wound on the giant's neck.
In the next instant—
the sword mark erupted.
A column of dark purple blood light shot into the sky.
The giant's hooded head
rolled to the ground with a thunderous crash.
——
Outside the secret realm.
Watching the scene unfold,
Bibi Dong's fingers brushed the faint scar
at her own pale neck.
Her lips curved into a cold, knowing smile.