Chapter 83: The Blood Sea Samsara Array and the Asura Clan

"Roar!"
As the three—Nether River, Houtu, and Emperor Cang—entered the domain of the Nether Blood Sea, they immediately witnessed a creature with a blue-black body, a single horn protruding from its forehead, enshrouded in resentful energy, its murderous intent surging to the heavens as it charged straight toward them. Astonishingly, it possessed the combat strength of an early Taiyi demon god.

"This is really..."
Emperor Cang was at a loss for words. "Even a stray dog by the roadside could turn out to be a Taiyi demon god around here!"

The Ancestor of the Nether River extended a finger and uttered softly, "Halt!"

Shen Sisi glanced from one to the other. These two truly were brother and sister; their brows and expressions did bear a striking resemblance, especially the way they opened their eyes—it was as if they had been carved from the same mold.

Even the arc Wei Yan traced as he extinguished the flame, as she roughly estimated, left not the slightest hint of a time scale.

Yan Xiyue considered and decided that the restaurant from last time had been delicious—good food at fair prices, and Su Wushuang had also expressed great fondness for the dishes there.

Upon hearing Yan Xiyue’s words, the man’s mouth twitched ever so slightly, but he said nothing in response.

The Saturday gospel at the Baptist church had not yet concluded when Harold hurried away. Huai Zhen washed his face in a brass basin in the backyard and still managed to catch the Chinatown youth team arriving at ten o’clock.

Zhang Chi became aware that his breathing was growing ever more labored. Hearing the voices outside, his brows knitted so tightly it was as if he were wrestling with himself, and he had no choice but to awaken him.

In truth, there was no sense of lofty superiority. Even momentary power would inevitably be judged by the passage of time and the verdict of history.

His Majesty then issued an edict: Xiao Rong was to inherit the title of Marquis of Longlü, a marriage was to be granted with honor to Zeng Gongli, fulfilling the wish of the late Princess Royal, with the wedding to be held in December.

Such anxiety coiled around him like creeping vines, entwining him day and night, gradually taking root in his heart and growing into an inextricable demon of the mind.

Li Jixing’s lips twitched, his face full of pent-up frustration. He watched the two figures recede into the distance, then turned and went back inside.

Time once again began to crawl, every moment agonizing, yet after twenty or thirty breaths, Jiang Yu remained in his half-dead state, while other legendary candidates truly began to falter.

Upon hearing this, Wei Jian nodded. He was familiar with Lin Liang’s situation. Although the branches in Shangyang and Hegu had become openly hostile after this competition, neither side would initiate open conflict. With Lin Liang’s intelligence, Wei Jian had no concerns for his safety.

These days, Fang Feipeng’s life was far from pleasant. First, he lost that duel. After struggling to break through the encirclement, he returned, only to be severely scolded by Hua Guoxiong. Even the promised reward had vanished.

"Calm your mind and spirit; face your tribulation with composure." Master Wuwei’s words soothed Su Huai’s inner turmoil. He sat cross-legged, regulating his breath, hoping to increase his chances when the heavenly tribulation struck.

"Your cultivation is truly too shallow. If you had already formed your Soul Sea, or possessed the ability to break through the Heavenly Ladder, you could attempt to open that door by yourself now," Xin Ping said with a stony face.

Especially someone like Su, who had climbed step by step to his current position—it was clear his cunning ran far deeper than Dongzi’s or Lu Yao’s.

Who would have thought that the always strong-willed and independent Zhao Jingwen would reveal such a bewitching side? Coupled with her classically beautiful, delicate face, she was truly the epitome of allure and charm.

"Enough, enough, what a mess. In any case, tonight you’re coming home with me—so I can properly explain things," Su Qi said.

With a heavy heart, Lin Yong continued upstream. He was no immortal; he had no power to change any of this. Yet what baffled him was—what were the true immortals actually doing?

The black robe draped over him ought to split apart, scattering into countless scraps, fluttering through the sky.

The van at the entrance had likely caught fire at the fuel tank, erupting once more in a massive explosion; the heat wave instantly shattered every window on the first floor.

Liu Min ran to the wide-brimmed satchel, rummaged through it for a prescription, and after studying it for a while—considering Zhao Guanghui’s latest account of the new epidemic—she made several adjustments to it and returned to the bailiff’s office.