Volume One, Chapter 58: Lost Consciousness Once More

“Don’t you think the thing on you is a curse? If it is a curse, then there must be a way to dispel it. I’m simply removing it,” Wang Luo was the first to speak at last.

Tuo Yue continued as usual—attending classes when scheduled, spending free time polishing the largest stone slab, showing no unusual behavior despite the upcoming imperial banquet.

Qiao An nodded and turned toward the magical war machine soldier still circling the center of the playground. He waved, signaling Ruby to end her “Death God Whirlwind,” retract Zaku back into the “portable dimensional hole,” and hurry home with him.

Planet Nine was a newly created world, many of its settings still incomplete.

He did not look down on the profession of caregiver, nor did he feel insignificant; it was simply that now, like a tiger fallen to the plains, it was vulnerable to dogs.

“I am Dao Hao Yuan! Founder of the Immortal Cultivation Community Committee!” the middle-aged man bowed deeply, his tone full of respect and fear.

He had thought that with his inner power restored, he would fear nothing. But before the Empress, he realized his cultivation was insignificant, crushed without her even making a move.

At this thought, Mo Fan shivered involuntarily. Impossible, impossible. He recalled his master saying that he would catch fire—could it be that the fire actually burned his clothes?

It was the hottest moment of the day. The instant the cabin door opened, a wave of heat surged in, pushing people inside, a sensation akin to a bus slamming on the brakes.

Countless the dead surged into the city; the gates had long been broken, and storming the fortress was only a matter of time.

Besides these two powerful warlords from Yunnan, Hu Hanmin was honored with a plaque inscribed “Divine White Medicine,” Yang Jie’s plaque read “King of All Medicines in the Baibao Pill System,” and even the committee chairman was honored with “Perfect Efficacy.”

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Because the enemy’s troops lacked the advanced weaponry of his own Kwantung Army, and their combat skills were far inferior to the well-trained Japanese soldiers.

Of course, the area here was vast enough, but its spiritual energy density was much lower than that within Li Qingtong’s Spiritual Cauldron space, lacking that miraculous creation of spiritual power.

To be fair, this man’s clockwork skills were indeed impressive, especially in 1v1 dueling fundamentals.

Li Qingtong’s punch employed the profound methods of the Profound Origin Scripture; even a pure third-level perfect realm beast’s strength would not surpass this.

A huge crab carried several massive containers on its back, equipped with construction machinery—clearly hurrying to another development zone for building work.

After thousands of Golden Core stage immortals joined the detection formation, groups of a thousand Foundation Establishment stage cultivators swore oaths and entered the formation.

With her hand pressed near the fiery pit, the witch craned her neck, watching Bai Yuwei use a spear to rake out a spiderweb-like fire net from the flames.

When they saw the deployed troops forming ranks and encircling them from all directions—especially with many fire gunners and archers summoned—they realized something was wrong. No, to be precise, they understood the fate that awaited them.

Around the two, the mountains began to crack, flora buried beneath rolling mud and rocks. Within several thousand meters of their battlefield, not a living thing stirred; any creature seeing these two giants instinctively fled far away.

He shook his head slightly, gripping a fifth-grade spirit sword once more, warily watching the opponent’s Sword of Enchantment.

“Do not act rashly! The grudge must be avenged, but not now—we are too weak. Even if he is gravely wounded, we cannot face him yet,” Xiao Yu shook her head.

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“Even so, if things continue this way, he will surely be controlled by demonic forces—then it will be too late,” the Supreme Daoist said helplessly, his face cold.

Though the Marquis of the Four Directions held high rank and power, his foundation was too shallow to compare with the deeply rooted noble families of Xuanding.

To prevent sorcery alchemists from acting recklessly, the Sorcery Alchemist Guild enforced strict rules—any violation would lead to swift and severe punishment by the guild.

Thinking of Xia Qiongying, Chu Chen felt a sharp pang in his heart. He circulated his true essence faster, accelerating as he streaked across the sky like a rainbow.

The black-clad soldiers numbered at least thirty to forty thousand, each armed. Though their appearance was somewhat irregular, in this environment they still represented a formidable force.

His frenzied, ghastly face flickered with an expression of disbelief. The scene before him completely exceeded his expectations.

Zhou Chen calmly observed the enormous figure not far off, speaking softly. Clearly, in his eyes, this colossal being was no true adversary.

Two super-strong ghost soldiers suddenly appeared, shocking all. With their arrival, the ordinary ghost soldiers retreated, while the two advanced one after the other.

Unlike the Purifier Legion, over which he had no real command, the Blackwater River troops answered directly to the Saint Ruins’ supreme leader—an elite legion composed of powerful warriors.

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