After the Fairy Maidens Fell to Darkness, They Captured Me to Ruthlessly 'Repay' Their Gratitude-Chapter 234 - You’re Not Qualified to Worry About Your Master

The first thing to emerge from the abyssal portal was a jade foot, as exquisite as a mythical creation. Its delicate contours bore no flaws, adorned with a faint emerald phoenix scale pattern, exuding an aura of divine purity and sanctity, untouchable by mortal hands.

But as the jade foot floated to the ground, followed by a glimpse of the slender white leg stepping out of the portal, He Ange’s gaze fell upon something else—a chain.

This chain, forged from dark matter, burned with terrifying abyssal energy. Its design was rugged yet imposing, as if crafted to bind the most fearsome and malevolent beasts of hell.

And yet, this chain—meant for monsters—was shackled around a pair of delicate, soft phoenixscaled jade feet. The stark contrast between sacred innocence and sinister darkness only added to the mythical allure of its owner.

“Master...?”

Seeing the petite yet divine face of the woman before him, He Ange couldn’t help but call out in shock.

Her face was as cold and ethereal as ever, her jadegreen eyes shimmering with an otherworldly light. A lotusshaped mark adorned her forehead, enhancing her celestial beauty with an air of divine majesty.

Though she appeared no taller than 1.6 meters, her floating presence elevated her stature. He Ange had to look up to meet her gaze. Despite her petite frame, her demeanor radiated the grace of a regal empress, commanding respect and awe.

Under the halo of this true divine phoenix,

Even the White Dragon Saintess from the Nine Heavens would pale in comparison. Among the gods, perhaps only the True Dragon Empress could stand as her equal.

“Silly disciple.”

“It’s rare for your master to leave the abyss after a thousand years. Are you trying to crash into me?”

Feng Yuan’s ethereal voice carried a hint of teasing as she glanced at the disheveled whiterobed youth before her. Her jadegreen eyes betrayed no emotion, but her words carried a faint trace of amusement.

This was unusual. Feng Yuan rarely expressed emotions in front of others, her face perpetually cold and stoic. For her to joke with He Ange was a rare display of mood.

But as He Ange took in her full appearance, his concern deepened:

“Master, your hands and feet...”

Feng Yuan’s hands and feet were bound by abyssal chains. Even though her body had emerged from the portal, the chains extended back into the abyss, as if ensuring she could never escape their grasp.

He Ange could feel it—the chains suppressed Feng Yuan’s cultivation and divine essence, constantly exerting immense pressure on her body and soul.

The sight pained him deeply.

It was like seeing an elderly grandparent rise from their sickbed, oxygen tank in tow, just to protect their grandchild...

Noticing her disciple’s worried gaze,

Feng Yuan raised an eyebrow, a hint of displeasure crossing her face.

She floated down to stand before He Ange. Raising her shackled left hand, she pressed two fingers against his forehead and flicked lightly—

Boom!

In an instant,

A violent gust of wind roared past He Ange’s face, so powerful that it distorted his face.

When the wind subsided,

He Ange stood frozen in place. Looking at his master again, his eyes were filled with renewed reverence.

“You’re just a foolish disciple who can’t even protect his own wife. Worrying about me? You’re not qualified.”

Feng Yuan’s gaze remained cold as she glanced briefly at the trembling silverhaired maiden nearby. She narrowed her eyes slightly but said nothing more.

Turning her attention back to He Ange,

She looked at him kneeling obediently before her, a trace of indulgence and pride flickering in her eyes.

“Do you understand now, my foolish disciple?” She gently stroked his cheek, a faint smile playing on her lips as she teased him.

“Y-yes... I understand...”

He Ange lowered his head respectfully, not daring to meet Feng Yuan’s gaze directly.

Meanwhile,

Feng Yuan exhaled softly.

She turned to face the True Dragon Empress in the distance. The warmth in her phoenix eyes vanished instantly, replaced by an icy coldness.

At that moment,

Two true gods locked eyes—one radiating the domineering brilliance of a True Dragon; the other exuding the dark menace of an Abyssal Phoenix. Neither yielded an inch.

In an instant,

Abyssal runes began spreading across Feng Yuan’s body—from her legs to her phoenixscaled feet, from her sleeves to her flawless face.

The runes etched into her skin added an air of lethal elegance to her already divine appearance.

Meanwhile,

The True Dragon Empress narrowed her golden eyes slightly. Her imperial aura surged forth—nine golden dragons coiling around her form—each one radiating ancient and terrifying power.

“Feng Yuan,” Chen Long said coldly. “A thousand years have passed, and you still enjoy opposing me. Foolish as ever.”

Her tone was icy as she raised a hand. Instantly,

White dragon warriors surrounded the area—each one a Heavenly Godlevel expert clad in silver dragon armor.

Countless killing intents converged on Feng Yuan at the center of the dragon formation—a lone figure facing overwhelming odds.

Crack!

Chen Long clenched her raised hand tightly. The space around them distorted and fractured; even the abyssal portal behind Feng Yuan shattered into pieces.

Within the Nine Heavens Glazed Tower,

The True Dragon Empress amplified its suppressive power—elevating it from a Heavenly Godlevel artifact to a true divine imperial artifact.

Sealing off all surrounding space,

Chen Long spoke again—her voice devoid of emotion:

“Feng Yuan, you won’t take him today.”

“With the abyss suppressing you, you can’t even wield half your true power. Unless you wish to die by my hand...”

The Empress stood with arms crossed—her presence commanding and unyielding.

But He Ange could sense it—

When Chen Long saw Feng Yuan in person, her confidence wavered slightly. Her threats lacked the ease she had displayed earlier when addressing him directly.

After all,

Both were true god-level beings. If Chen Long could easily kill Feng Yuan, she would have done so long ago—eliminating her nemesis outright instead of sealing her in the abyss for a thousand years.

Logically,

Both were likely immortal—each possessing numerous trump cards. A direct confrontation would likely end in stalemate.

“Chen Long,” Feng Yuan replied with a faint smile. “A thousand years have passed, and you still love putting on airs...”

Unfazed,

She met Chen Long’s hateful and wary gaze with a calm expression—raising one hand lightly:

“Bound by this abyssal seal, I can’t play with you for long today.”

“But I’ve brought someone who’s been longing to see you...”

“Oh? You two should be old acquaintances.”