She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 116

The lips lightly brushed against Yan Luoyue’s hairline.

The sight of this azure flame darting toward her like a baby swallow returning to its nest instantly made Yan Luoyue’s eyes sting.

If only the Wuti Flame hadn’t spoken its next words.

Because right after, it let out a loud sniffle—like a pitiful child trying to hold back tears—before whining in a coquettish tone, “You two heartless ghosts, damn you both! I’ve missed you so much!”

Just listen to the little flame’s tone and watch the way it keeps bouncing against the transparent barrier.

If it weren’t so weak, it might have even sprouted tiny fists to playfully pound Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s chests in protest.

Yan Luoyue: “…”

Wu Manshuang: “…”

Wait, isn’t this kind of phrasing a bit… inappropriate for the occasion and the number of people involved?

Yan Luoyue raised a hand to her face in defeat, peeking through her fingers at Wu Manshuang. She noticed the rare stiffness in the little snake’s expression.

At this moment, no words were needed—their thoughts were perfectly aligned.

They were certain that the Wuti Flame had received a terrible education over the past three thousand years.

…Just who had been teaching it such things?

Are you people from Hongtong Palace out of your minds? How could you let the Wuti Flame learn stuff like this? It’s still just a baby!

If the Wuti Flame’s greeting to its old friends was heartfelt, albeit grammatically questionable, its attitude toward the middle-aged man was a complete 180-degree shift—faster than a Sichuan opera face-change.

“Oh, you still here, staring? Stare at your daddy all you want, you dumb [beep—], rotten-headed, rotten-footed, rotten-brained [beep—] of a [beep—]! You castrated relic from three thousand years ago, with a wife who’s birthed eight hundred kids for you—every morning, eight hundred voices scream ‘Uncle Dog’ at you! Tell all these bastards of yours to scram! Your daddy disowns them, you hear? Your daddy disowns them all!”

Seeing the Wuti Flame so spirited and capable of such creative insults reassured Yan Luoyue.

She was absolutely certain that, by modern standards, the difference between a family-friendly movie and a PG-13 one was roughly equivalent to the presence of a Wuti Flame.

The middle-aged man completely ignored the little azure flame’s tirade.

He calmly smoothed his sleeves, his expression unreadable.

Either his self-control was impeccable, or after three thousand years of daily verbal abuse, he’d simply gone numb.

In contrast, the Wuti Flame seemed to harbor an undying hatred for this man.

If not for the transparent barrier trapping it, the flame would have lunged at him, claws out, ready to scratch and kick.

Even now, it hurled itself against the barrier with relentless force—so much so that Yan Luoyue was reminded of a woodpecker going full throttle.

At this moment, both Wu Manshuang and Yan Luoyue’s gazes were fixed on the man.

He had a stern, square-jawed face that exuded authority, clearly marking him as someone of high status. The dense aura around him further confirmed his formidable cultivation.

He wore the Hongtong Palace uniform, but his robes were far more ornate than those of the elders or guest advisors.

His wide sleeves were embroidered with celestial motifs—sun, moon, and stars—and the gold and silver threads shimmered with every movement.

When the three of them suddenly crossed paths in the underground palace, the man’s expression stiffened momentarily, though he quickly masked it.

Immediately, he withdrew his hand from the barrier he’d been trying to dismantle.

Yan Luoyue already had a guess about his identity, but before she could speak, the Wuti Flame’s furious voice cut in.

Like a child finally seeing backup arrive, the little flame dramatically ordered, “Quick! That’s the Master of Hongtong Palace! Poke his nose! Yank his hair! Kick his family jewels! Stomp on his toes!”

Yan Luoyue: “…”

Clearing her throat, Yan Luoyue asked, “Is this how Hongtong Palace has been teaching Wuti all along?”

At this rate, she might have to send the Wuti Flame to Shen Jingxuan for remedial lessons.

At least the little nun’s martial virtue surpassed her verbal restraint—her insults were far more polite than the flame’s.

The Master of Hongtong Palace fell silent at the question.

After all, when the Wuti Flame was first sealed here, it didn’t know how to curse.

The worst it could muster back then were lines like, “You’re going to lose your leaves!” or “You’re cracked!”

As for how, three thousand years later, the Wuti Flame had become so… creatively vulgar, well—Hongtong Palace certainly bore some responsibility.

But compared to what the palace had done to the flame, a few learned insults seemed almost trivial.

Among the four great sects, Hongtong Palace had risen to prominence by relying on the Wuti Flame for alchemy and artifact forging. Naturally, it boasted an unusually high number of alchemists and artificers.

And for three thousand years, those alchemists and artificers had been draining the Wuti Flame’s essence.

A sect that only seeks benefits during the Demon-Subduing War naturally lacks the noble spirit of selflessness and dedication.

Cold indifference pervades the entire palace.

Most people in Hongtong Palace wish everyone else were fools, leaving themselves as the only clever ones.

That way, they could hog all the rewards and shove all the burdens onto others.

Take the Crying Crow Flame, for example. Though this sub-flame now belongs to the sect,

what’s the sect’s can never compare to what’s truly one’s own—only things secured in one’s own pocket bring real peace of mind.

Outsiders would never imagine that the prestigious Hongtong Palace would sometimes stoop so low in internal fights over the Crying Crow Flame’s usage rights.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to roll up their sleeves in the underground palace, throwing punches and curses in a brawl.

This was like a nouveau riche who, after stumbling into fortune, neither cultivated virtue nor sought knowledge, but instead greedily scrambled to hoard wealth.

Amid such an environment, the Crying Crow Flame picked up quite a few lessons in practice.

—From nouns to verbs, from races to organs.

Besides, ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌‍the little flame had nothing else to do, trapped inside its barrier.

What else could it do besides cursing the foolish humans who coveted it?

Over time, the Crying Crow Flame honed its skills in verbal warfare.

By now, it could even tailor a personalized tirade based on each person’s reaction—truly considerate service.

The Master of Hongtong Palace had grown accustomed to the flame’s bluster and posturing. At first, it infuriated him, but eventually, he stopped taking it seriously.

Yet who could have guessed? Just as the Crying Crow Flame was almost within his grasp, its family came knocking!

The moment he recognized the identities of this young pair, intense jealousy surged within him, mingling with long-held resentment.

The Master of Hongtong Palace forced a smile and said, “So it’s the two of you gracing us with your presence. My apologies for not welcoming you sooner…”

“I’d only just heard news of you, and here you are. Now I see for myself—you truly are prodigies.”

—How hateful that they were so young! The incarnations of divine artifacts, right under his nose!

He had heard of Ji Qinghong taking disciples.

Had he known their true identities earlier, he would have sent assassins to kill them both.

By the time the Falling Moon Wood and Frost-Clad Stone painstakingly reformed new incarnations, the demonic realm’s plans would surely be complete.

One misstep led to another.

The thought filled the Master of Hongtong Palace with bitter regret.

He sighed. “Letting you grow up was indeed my oversight. You seized the initiative.”

Even if Yan Luoyue lived another 300,000 years, she might never hear a more shameless statement.

The sheer audacity of his words was overwhelming. If someone wanted to retort, they wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“—Hah?”

Yan Luoyue scoffed. “Are you saying this as a human?”

To her surprise, the Master of Hongtong Palace looked even more astonished. “You’re born divine artifacts—do you actually consider yourselves human?”

Yan Luoyue frowned. “Illegally imprisoning the Crying Crow Flame, colluding with extraterrestrial abominations, forcing blood wine on your disciples, betraying the three races and the entire cultivation world… What benefit do you gain from such evils?”

This was a question she had wanted to ask from the start.

If it were merely human infighting, though reprehensible, at least there were precedents.

But abandoning his own kind to ally with malevolent outsiders? That was like making a pact with the devil.

Even the Crying Crow Flame couldn’t hold back:

“Did you sleep with that abomination and marry it? Did it scramble your brains into paste? Did it shit on your face last night and blind you? How else could you be so loyal to it?”

The Master of Hongtong Palace’s expression twisted several times before he finally laughed in defiance.

Upon first hearing of Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang, he had tried to flee with the Crying Crow Flame.

Now cornered, he seemed oddly at ease.

Smugly, he declared, “Payment for services rendered—that’s only fair. Three thousand years of Hongtong Palace’s legacy—isn’t that benefit enough?”

Wu Manshuang’s voice was icy. “So you’ve been colluding with that Puppet Heart-Net all along.”

“Oh? So that’s its name?” The Master of Hongtong Palace shrugged. “Trapping the Falling Moon Wood for millennia—such a mighty name suits it well.”

Watching him wear shameless pride like a badge, Yan Luoyue’s eye twitched, her disgust reaching its peak.

As for Wu Manshuang, from the moment he entered the underground palace and saw the weakened Crying Crow Flame, his expression had frozen into unrelenting frost.

The Master of Hongtong Palace glanced at the young man and woman before him and actually smiled.

If there were a ranking of the world’s most shameless individuals, this palace master would undoubtedly take the crown.

Even at this critical moment, his expression was almost earnest, his tone dripping with feigned concern.

He said, “Having dealt with the Wailing Flames for so long, I’ve come to understand that despite your divine status and power capable of leveling mountains and filling seas, your temperaments are no more than that of children.”

“So—” The Master of Hongtong Palace turned to Yan Luoyue, his voice oozing false sincerity, “Why did you resist in the first place?”

Wu Manshuang: “…” Stunned by the sheer audacity of the question, he was momentarily speechless.

Yan Luoyue wasn’t faring much better either: “Huh?”

The Wailing Flames outright exclaimed, “Wow, listen up! There’s an old cuckold here spewing nonsense!”

The Master of Hongtong Palace shook his head with a sigh, somehow managing to look righteous.

He spoke with grave seriousness, “This Puppet Devourer’s Net isn’t meant to wipe out our kind. Had you surrendered obediently, you might have merged with it by now—becoming one, intertwined in perfect harmony…”

At these words, Yan Luoyue’s expression twisted in disgust, her skin crawling with goosebumps.

Yet the Master of Hongtong Palace plowed on, oblivious or indifferent.

He mused wistfully, “You’ve seen it yourselves—the Rolling Demons, the Cowardly Demons, the Half-Blood Demons… each brought from another realm. Had you allowed the fusion back then, our reach might have already extended to other worlds! Why endure this bloody conflict now?”

—Well, well. Who knew he harbored such lofty ambitions of cosmic conquest?

Wu Manshuang sneered, “By ‘our reach,’ do you mean our three races being thrown as cannon fodder onto the frontlines of those worlds?”

The Master of Hongtong Palace waved a dismissive hand, his reply startlingly candid:

“What does it matter? A crucial piece like me would never be among those expendable pawns.”

“…”

At that moment, Yan Luoyue finally understood.

No wonder the Master of Hongtong Palace had risen to prominence during the Demon-Suppressing War. No wonder his palace’s tyranny had flourished unchecked.

Because this man was an unapologetic villain in the truest sense.

Righteous men upheld moral principles; hypocrites clung to their reputations.

But a true scoundrel like the Master of Hongtong Palace would shamelessly cling to the powerful, sneering at those who refused to kneel.

—See? Your suffering stems solely from your stubborn refusal to bow from the start.

Adjusting his resplendent robe embroidered with celestial motifs, the Master of Hongtong Palace declared with unshakable conviction:

“Every man for himself—that’s the law of nature. I merely aspire to stand above the rest.”

Thus, for personal gain, he would gladly betray his world and kin.

Even as the Demon-Suppressing War left millions of humans and demons dead, he willingly embraced the invaders, becoming their puppet.

Even the lives of his own disciples meant nothing to him—mere insects beneath his notice.

The Master of Hongtong Palace sighed nostalgically, “Had the Wailing Flames not split, allowing you to defeat the outsiders… Hongtong Palace would be a second-rate sect today, and I, a mediocre master. None of this grandeur—commanding winds and clouds with a flick of my wrist—would exist.”

With that, he suddenly produced two objects from his sleeve.

The first was a flicker of azure flame.

Upon contact with air, it roared to life like oil meeting fire, soaring three zhang high with untamed vigor.

Placed beside the Wailing Flames’ modest flicker, many artificers might mistake this for the true divine fire.

As for the second item…

The Master of Hongtong Palace brandished it, and the artifact elongated—revealing itself to be a staff-shaped tree forged into a ritual implement.

And its material…

A single glance made Yan Luoyue’s scalp prickle.

Indeed, this jade-branched, crystal-trunked staff was painstakingly crafted from Moonfall Wood.

In all the world, only the Wailing Flames could temper Moonfall Wood.

Recognizing the familiar staff—one it had been forced to forge—the little flame burst into indignant chatter.

This utter freak plucked your leaves! I cursed him out, but his skin’s thicker than a city wall—he didn’t care one bit. Sapling, go punch his lights out!

The Master of Hongtong Palace threw back his head and laughed. “See? I already hold two divine artifacts. If not for you… if not for you!”

If not for these two youths appearing out of nowhere—first Chu Tiankuo returning with vengeance in Camellia Town, then the Silver Arena’s schemes unraveled, and now, as he attempted to flee with the Wailing Flames, stumbling straight into them…

Originally, he only needed to gather one more Frostheart Stone to find a way to venture beyond, expanding his dominion...

By then, he would stand equal to the Three Divine Artifacts—no, even loftier than them. He could ascend as a deity reigning supreme over all living beings!

With a conflicted tone, the Master of Hongtong Palace said, "Had it not been for your interference, I might have already secured a status akin to the Puppeteer's Net of Devoured Emotions in another world."

At this point, he furrowed his brows and glared at Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang:

"You may be divine artifacts, but so what? Does being divine artifacts grant you the right to obstruct others from living well?"

After narrowing her eyes and studying him for a moment, Yan Luoyue suddenly laughed.

"What a coincidence. Today, we’re making sure you don’t get to live well."

From the Master of Hongtong Palace’s gaze, Yan Luoyue saw greed, and from his words, she heard boundless desire.

For someone like him, the inability to satisfy his greed was already a form of torment. Even more agonizing was not only failing to obtain what he craved but also losing what he already had.

Yet the most excruciating punishment of all was making him realize he had been walking a dead-end path all along.

Yan Luoyue leisurely untied three woven grass charms from her waist and sighed with feigned sympathy.

"You thought that by tormenting a fragment of the Wailing Crowfire into submission and siphoning its essence with your own flames, it could devour the true Wailing Crowfire and become a divine flame under your control?"

With a cold sneer, a sharp glint flashed in her eyes. "How dare a mere firefly presume to rival the Wailing Crow’s radiance!"

"Do you want the Wailing Crowfire?"

She first poured out a flickering red flame from the first grass charm, pinching the vermilion agate-like "Red Bean of the Southern Land" between her fingers and waving it teasingly.

"Look, here’s one—ours, not yours."

The Master of Hongtong Palace: "..."

Yan Luoyue then laid out the remaining two flames in a row, her smile radiant.

"Inky, Pinky—still ours, still none of your business."

The three flames hovered in the air, arranged by size, their cores blazing brilliantly.

In his entire life, the Master of Hongtong Palace had never seen so much Wailing Crowfire gathered in one place.

A single Wailing Crowfire had fueled the grand ambitions of Hongtong Palace for three thousand years—yet now, there were three...

At this moment, the Master of Hongtong Palace resembled a penniless youth who had scrimped for four years to afford a single pair of luxury sneakers, only to turn around and find his neighbor’s child owning an entire closet full of them.

If anyone claimed the complex emotions flashing in his eyes weren’t envy and resentment, they’d be lying.

But Yan Luoyue’s display of the Wailing Crowfire was merely the beginning.

Next, she pulled out a mineral pendant from her collar.

To the refined tastes of the Master of Hongtong Palace, it was clear this mineral was either exceedingly rare—or something that didn’t even exist in this world.

"You wanted to become the ruler of another world?"

Yan Luoyue beamed. "What a shame—Wu Manshuang and I beat you to it!"

"We just returned from a seven-year vacation in another realm and brought this back as a souvenir. The scenery was breathtaking, the flora fragrant, and the people there were utterly delightful. In that world, we were revered as deities..."

Of course, this was pure fabrication.

Neither she nor Wu Manshuang had such inclinations.

But that didn’t stop her from saying it to infuriate the Master of Hongtong Palace.

Yan Luoyue counted off on her fingers: "The human realm, the demon realm, the spirit realm, and the otherworld we just visited—all of them worship us as divine artifacts. Though honestly, Wu Manshuang and I don’t really care. It’s all just for fun!"

Having coexisted with the Master of Hongtong Palace for three thousand years, the Wailing Crowfire understood his mentality all too well.

He simply wanted every treasure in existence to belong to him.

Hearing Yan Luoyue’s words, the little flame burst into laughter. "Hahaha, seriously? The status of a born divine artifact—don’t tell me someone actually takes it seriously? Don’t tell me someone considers it their life’s pursuit!"

The Master of Hongtong Palace: "..."

In an instant, the flames of jealousy roared to life, scorching his heart without respite.

What he had spent his life chasing was dismissed so lightly by Yan Luoyue and the Wailing Crowfire, as if it held no weight at all.

"As for your wish to be a loyal hound to those foreign abominations—that, we can grant you."

Yan Luoyue’s smile vanished. "No one’s competing with you for the privilege of being a dog. So, after all this stalling for time… have you gotten the answer you were hoping for?"

The moment she finished speaking, the Master of Hongtong Palace’s hand—the one gripping the Jade Tree Staff—trembled faintly.

Indeed, his prolonged conversation with Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang served two purposes.

First, upon encountering born divine artifacts, he couldn’t resist testing the gap between them.

Second, the Master of Hongtong Palace had been desperately trying to contact the Puppeteer.

He wasn’t the most powerful Great Ascension cultivator in Hongtong Palace, but he was a highly skilled artificer.

The Jade Tree Staff was an artifact forged from the flesh and blood of demonic creatures that had slipped through the seals of the demon realm.

Over time, it grew bit by bit, branch by branch, into a frail and slender sapling.

The Master of Hongtong Palace not only refined it into a protective artifact but also used it to establish a connection with his puppet, the Love-Devouring Demon, in the demon realm.

Thus, holding this jade-tree staff was akin to a dog with a leash around its neck.

Even if an accident occurred, one must consider the owner before striking the dog.

Yet, just moments ago, when the Master of Hongtong Palace bared his heart to Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang, the puppet Love-Devouring Net—which had always obeyed his commands and responded to his requests—offered him no protection.

Not only did it fail to shield him, but not even a whisper of consciousness reached him.

"..." The Master of Hongtong Palace's face darkened like still water, his gaze toward Yan Luoyue dripping with venom.

Yet within that resentment lurked a terror even he hadn’t noticed.

"What have you done?"

Yan Luoyue shook her head with a sigh. "I did nothing. It’s just that you’ve become useless."

"A petty man like you should understand this best, shouldn’t you? Hongtong Palace has turned into an empty shell, and the hollow husk that is you isn’t worth risking a rescue for!"

The trunk of the jade-tree staff bent slightly under his tightening grip.

A hoarseness crept into the Master of Hongtong Palace’s voice:

"If it seeks to conquer this realm, it cannot exterminate all of humanity. Someone must govern the forces here, and when the time comes to expand its dominion, someone must wield authority on its behalf..."

Yan Luoyue cut straight to the point: "But why must that someone be you?"

"I still have—"

"You’ve lost all value." Her eyes curved as she flashed him a bright, mocking smile.

"In terms of cultivation, yours was built on blood wine and rare treasures. In terms of influence, Hongtong Palace has already scattered like frightened birds. And as for your character..."

"Petty men are a dime a dozen in this world, but true heroes are rare."

Wu Manshuang, who had remained silent until now, coldly folded his arms.

"It intends to poison this world, yet you thought yourself the one brewing the medicine?"

"You’re nothing but the dregs."

From within a transparent barrier, a flickering blue flame burst into gleeful laughter.

"Wow, he’s just dregs!"

"..."

Only now did the Master of Hongtong Palace realize that every escape route had been sealed off, and everything he had relied on in his life had turned to ash.

The glories of his past were mere illusions—only this desperate, rootless ruin before him was real.

Until moments ago, he had truly believed he could take refuge in the demon realm.

Once this battle ended and the invaders triumphed, he would rule over the remnants of humanity and the demon races, rising to power once more.

Yet this grand delusion had been nothing but a mirage from the start.

He had treated the ordinary disciples of Hongtong Palace as expendable pawns, yet assumed he held a special place in the eyes of the invading demons.

In the past, when those disciples flaunted their arrogance, they too had boasted: "I am a disciple of the mighty Hongtong Palace!"

Before, the demon had granted his every request. He had even learned many secrets of the three divine artifacts.

No doubt, when the disciples discovered the palace’s collusion with demons yet chose to conceal it, their thoughts mirrored his own mere moments ago:

"If I’m privy to such secrets, surely my status is extraordinary, and I am held in high esteem."

Yet, just as he saw his disciples as worthless grass, the puppet Love-Devouring Demon saw him as mere dregs.

Both were worthless—but while grass might still have some use, dregs were nothing but trash.

The veins on the Master of Hongtong Palace’s hand bulged as he clenched the jade-tree staff.

—No, he was still a Great Ascension cultivator...

Even if he hadn’t fought in earnest since ascending to his throne, even if his opponent was a divine being... he was still a Great Ascension cultivator!

In that instant, the desperation of a cornered beast surged through him.

At the same time, he noticed something in Wu Manshuang’s eyes—layers of frost-like patterns spreading like cracks in ice.

Then, Wu Manshuang wore an expression he hadn’t used in a long time—one of polite civility.

With detached calm, he said, "Since you know whose incarnations Luoyue and I are, you should also know that the sun and moon of this world were born from us—Manshuang Stone and Wuti Fire."

The Master of Hongtong Palace stiffened, his tone rigid. "What, are you invoking gratitude now?"

"No." Wu Manshuang’s voice was light. "I merely wish to inform you that your life or death rests on my whim."

All living beings contain the dual forces of yin and yang.

Yet the primordial yin and yang of this world undeniably originated from the two divine artifacts—Manshuang Stone and Wuti Fire.

In other words, if they so desired, they could manipulate the yin and yang within any native creature of this world.

Wuti Fire had refrained from doing so only because he had weakened to the point of barely maintaining his form.

But Wu Manshuang... the fully grown being before them now—was more than capable of it.

In moments of life and death, the human mind always works with startling speed. In the blink of an eye, the Master of Hongtong Palace had pieced together the truth. His eyes widened in shock, his face uncontrollably paling.

For he suddenly realized that before Wu Manshuang, now fully awakened, a single thought could drown the three realms in blood, leaving millions dead.

This—this was the true power to overturn clouds with one hand and rain with the other.

Such absolute dominion over life and death was a might he had never dared imagine, even in his wildest fantasies of becoming a god.

Wu Manshuang spoke, "Throughout my journey, I have never employed such methods. For the frost blossom Wuti took from me was meant to nurture life, not destroy it. But you—"

But for you, death is fitting.

The Master of Hongtong Palace's pupils shrank to pinpricks, trembling like marbles rattling in terror within their sockets.

If only he had known earlier that his life had always been in the other's grasp. If someone had warned him before he turned traitor, then he—then he—

...Then perhaps he wouldn’t have been reduced to mere dregs of medicine.

In an instant, something seemed to be wrenched from the very marrow of his bones.

Despite his Great Ascension cultivation, he now felt as weak as an infant, utterly defenseless.

Yin and Yang within him churned into chaos, the frigid energy of supreme Yin enveloping his body.

Like sharpened needles, it pierced through his meridians and organs.

Every wisp of spiritual energy transformed into biting cold, excruciating pain, abject terror—everything that evoked the Yellow Springs, ghosts, and death.

At the same time, beneath the clear sky and blazing sun, thunder roared in broad daylight.

A ruthless bolt of lightning split the heavens, striking the main hall of Hongtong Palace. Its blinding radiance turned the world stark white.

It tore through the roof, plunged into the underground palace, and landed squarely upon the Master of Hongtong Palace, reducing him to ashes on the spot.

As a Great Ascension cultivator, he had once endured heavenly tribulations, even reforged his body through celestial lightning.

But the lightning of the past had been the trial of the heavens—a test where one in forty-nine might survive.

This bolt, however, carried with it the annihilating aura of supreme Yin, leaving no room for survival.

This was true rejection by heaven and earth, scorned by sun and moon alike!

For a moment after the thunderclap, the battlefield fell silent. Then, cheers erupted from all directions.

To cultivators, heavenly lightning held profound significance beyond mere tribulation—it was a divine omen.

Now, with the heavens striking down Hongtong Palace, it was clear: this victory was ordained by fate itself!

Morale among the Righteous Alliance soared, while the remaining disciples of Hongtong Palace sealed their own dantians and surrendered.

With their master dead, no one remained to control the forbidden techniques.

The disciples who had been forced to consume the blood wine could not be restored, but neither could they launch further suicidal attacks. They were swiftly subdued.

What was predicted to be a months-long, even half-year campaign against Hongtong Palace had now quieted in an instant.

On the battlefield, ordinary cultivators clasped their hands in celebration.

"Triumph! Triumph! Triumph!"

"Heaven's thunder descends—Hongtong is vanquished!"

Meanwhile, sect leaders and elders raised cups in solemn reflection.

"Thank the heavens Hongtong Palace was eradicated. Had they remained, we would have faced enemies on two fronts in the coming war."

"Today, we rid the world of one evil. Tomorrow, we may yet preserve our strength to resist the demons." novelbuddy.cσ๓

Those with foresight knew: Hongtong Palace, troublesome as it was, had merely been the prelude.

Lurking behind it were the demons, restless and eager to rekindle the ancient war of three thousand years past.

"When will the true war against the demons begin?"

"Perhaps tomorrow."

"Or perhaps every day from now on."

...

Outside, cultivators reveled in victory.

Deep within the Weiyang Underground Palace, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang worked to dismantle the seals imprisoning Wuti’s flame.

To keep Wuti from growing bored, the two kept up a steady stream of conversation.

Besides, after so long apart, the three friends had endless topics to catch up on.

At one point, Yan Luoyue suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wuti, did you know you’ve become a 'male mom'?"

"???" The little blue flame flickered in shock. "What?"

Recalling the mortal legends, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help a stifled laugh.

"Rumor has it that the three-legged golden crow’s eggs hatched from your flames."

How impressive, Wuti! The youngest of them in mental age, yet the first to ascend to parenthood—now an unwitting "male mom," a true pioneer of the times!

As she teased him, Yan Luoyue conveniently ignored the fact that demons revered her as their "spiritual mother."

Hearing this, the little flame trembled violently, as if shaken by a ghost story in a gust of wind.

"...That’s horrifying! Why must I bear such a responsibility?"

"I’m just a tiny flame!"

Yan Luoyue smirked, shooting Wu Manshuang a playful glance.

—Truthfully, there was another mortal legend: that the Stone of Manshuang could grant any wish.

But the three of them knew better. If it were up to Wu Manshuang, every wisher would simply meet a swift and painless end.

Wu Manshuang smiled playfully and said, "This legend is quite interesting... Well then, after we get out, let's have some roasted bird eggs."

The little flame took this as a personal attack.

"You actually want to eat birds right in front of me!"

Wu Manshuang replied calmly, throwing the words Crowfire had spoken three seconds ago right back at it:

"Don’t take such trivial things to heart. You’re just a tiny little flame, after all."

He emphasized the word "tiny."

If not for the transparent barrier between them, Crowfire would have already pounced on his face like an angry cat.

Before long, the four-colored flames—azure, red, pink, and ink—finally reunited, merging into a single new flame.

The pale azure flame was slender and flickering, shaped like a willow leaf.

It corresponded precisely to the position of Crowfire’s beak.

Yet, despite their successful fusion, the four-colored flame still seemed listless.

Yan Luoyue, pitying its past suffering, picked up the azure flame once kept by the Master of Hongtong Palace and fed it to Crowfire.

Sure enough, the sight of this counterfeit flame—and the memory of its former owner—instantly revived Crowfire’s spirits.

With a single gulp, it swallowed the towering azure flame whole!

"How was it?" Yan Luoyue crouched down in front of the little flame, her voice full of concern. "Did it help replenish you?"

Crowfire patted its wings mournfully. "It was more of a snack, just enough to quiet my stomach."

Wu Manshuang interjected, "Do you need more exotic flames to feed on?"

"No, haven’t you noticed I’m not even the right color anymore? I’m not as pretty as I used to be!"

Forced to admit its own shortcomings, Crowfire’s tone turned indignant:

"Stupid rock, dumb sapling, I’m still missing my golden feathers!"

That was true.

In their memories, the original Crowfire had been an incomparably radiant, flowing gold.

But as for the golden fragment of Crowfire...

Yan Luoyue’s gaze drifted upward, higher and higher, until she was staring at the sky.

She asked skeptically, "Crowfire, you don’t expect us... to pluck the sun down for you, do you?"

Or perhaps grow a new sun?

If it was about growing a sun, that wasn’t her expertise—Chang Lili would be the right person for that job.

At this suggestion, Crowfire visibly perked up.

It tilted its delicate ink-and-wash bird head, its pink crest swaying playfully as it gazed longingly at the sun above.

After a moment, Crowfire sighed reluctantly.

"Forget it. If I reclaim them, the consequences for this world would be too great."

Earlier, Wu Manshuang had drained the Master of Hongtong Palace of his Yin energy.

If Crowfire reclaimed the sun, the fate of the Master of Hongtong Palace would befall the entire world.

Crowfire lamented, "There are no fragments of me left in this realm. If that golden flame were in the demon realm, it would have sought you out by now. I think it must have fallen into the demon world."

Having a goal made things easier.

Yan Luoyue nodded without hesitation. "Alright, then we’ll head to the demon world next."

"You’re the best, little sapling!" Crowfire chirped happily.

It wanted to flit over and nestle in Yan Luoyue’s hair like the old days, but halfway there, Wu Manshuang intercepted it and swatted it down like a basketball.

Crowfire: "You big rock, you &%$#@...!"

After another round of chaotic bickering, Crowfire finally tired itself out and settled down on a stone chair. As it watched Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang, a sudden question arose in its mind.

"Before we leave, there’s something I want to ask you two."

Yan Luoyue blinked. "What is it?"

Crowfire narrowed its eyes suspiciously. "Why have you two been holding hands this whole time?"

"..."

Crowfire pressed on, relentless. "Did you glue your hands together? If you’ve got such fun glue, why not share some with me?"

For a moment, the atmosphere between the three of them congealed as thickly as glue.

A beat later, Wu Manshuang chuckled softly.

He turned his head slightly and, as naturally as a dragonfly skimming water, pressed his lips to Yan Luoyue’s temple.

"Silly little flame," he said in a tone so affectionate it instantly made Crowfire see red. "After three thousand years, you still haven’t grown a single shred of cunning, have you?"

Crowfire: "..."

Crowfire: "!!!"

Finally, Crowfire realized what was happening.

"—AAAAAH, YOU ROTTEN ROCK, I’M GOING TO PECK YOU TO DEATH!!!"