1201: Chapter 1201 The Curtain Falls

These were their Divine Souls.

King Fenyang's Divine Soul was crimson, resembling a burning flame, struggling and twisting in Yue Shan's palm, attempting to break free.

Fairy Lingmiao's Divine Soul was pale pink, emanating an eerie aura of life, with the phantom of the heart of the flower fairy flickering within it.

Marshal Hei Yan's Divine Soul was dark purple, the aura of the nether power so dense it was almost tangible.

Three Divine Souls, three Late Stage fifth-order beings.

Yue Shan flicked his hand, tossing the Divine Souls of King Fenyang, Fairy Lingmiao, and Marshal Hei Yan toward Baili Ziyuan, then threw their Physical Bodies to Zhou Rong.

Baili Ziyuan caught the three Divine Souls instinctively, his grey-white eyes filled with shock.

Three complete Late Stage fifth-order Divine Souls—to him, this was an invaluable treasure!

If he could fully refine and absorb these three Divine Souls, his Soul Origin would not only recover to its Peak state, but it might even Breakthrough to the Late Stage fifth-order!

"This is..."

Baili Ziyuan's voice held a trace of disbelief.

Yue Shan did not look at him, but instead looked at Zhou Rong.

Marshal Hei Yan's Divine Soul struggled frantically in Zhou Rong's hand, its dark purple light flashing continuously.

Zhou Rong and the others each held the Physical Body of a Late Stage fifth-order powerhouse, and for a moment, they were all frozen stiff.

"Senior... I..."

Zhou Rong's voice trembled slightly; he did not know why Yue Shan would give this to him.

"Why are you helping me?"

Baili Ziyuan was the first to voice the doubt in his heart.

He had no friendship with Yue Shan, and in terms of the relationship between Sequencer, he was even considered a traitor.

Yet the other party had handed him the most precious three Late Stage fifth-order Divine Souls—this could no longer be explained by mere "generosity."

Yue Shan turned around, his earthy-yellow eyes looking at Baili Ziyuan, his gaze devoid of any sense of charity, possessing only a calm that bordered on cold indifference.

"This is not helping you."

His voice was deep and resonant, like a rumble from the depths of the earth.

"But helping the Master."

Master.

The moment these two words fell, the pupils of everyone present constricted violently.

The Lord of Sequences—Li Wuji!

He was also Li Mingxuan's brother.

A complex emotion that was hard to describe flashed through Baili Ziyuan's grey-white eyes—shock, confusion, realization, and a... deep sense of fear.

Yue Shan did not give Baili Ziyuan time to think, continuing:

"At the very least, your current strength is still of some help to the Master."

"And I do not think you will surpass Luo Xiu because of this."

Luo Xiu.

This name was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, stirring up monstrous waves in Baili Ziyuan's heart.

His pupils constricted violently, his fingers gripping the Divine Soul tightened suddenly, his knuckles turning white.

Luo Xiu—Sequencer 001.

That guy had once almost killed him!

Baili Ziyuan wanted to ask, but after seeing Yue Shan's gaze, he swallowed the question that had reached his lips.

That look told him—he was not qualified to ask anything else.

Yue Shan withdrew his gaze and turned to Zhou Rong.

A trace of warmth finally appeared in those earthy-yellow eyes—though faint, it was indeed present.

"Tell 009—"

His voice remained calm, but with an added note of solemnity.

"Only when his strength is high enough will what he desires be realized."

Zhou Rong was stunned, then his pupils constricted, and he finally nodded solemnly.

"Thank you, Senior. I will surely pass this on to my Master truthfully."

But after Yue Shan finished speaking, he turned around, looked toward Li Mingxuan's direction, and then transformed into a stream of light, sinking into the center of his brow.

"Your opportunity has been used up."

Li Mingxuan naturally understood the meaning; if he wanted Yue Shan to act again in the future, he would have to pay a different price.

But now he did not care, instead flying toward the direction where Lan Cang was.

"Teacher."

Dragon Xuanyuan did not say anything about all this, but instead looked at Su Wuming, "We must leave, otherwise if the three Star Domains send more people, we will not be able to hold them off."

Su Wuming nodded slightly, "Rest assured, it will take some time for them to come again, enough for us to leave."

He looked at the devastation below, "You deal with the post-war matters first; I will notify you when I am ready."

Before the words had faded, Su Wuming disappeared instantly from the spot with Duanmu Yan and the others; he was still impatient to go back and crack and master these technologies.

After bidding farewell, Zhou Rong and the others flew directly toward the starry sky; not only had they completed their mission this time, but they had also gained a lot.

Three days was far from enough for a planet that had just experienced an extinction-level war.

Ruins still stretched endlessly, the scorched earth still emitted a pungent odor, and those who had lost their homes remained huddled in temporarily erected tents, gazing at the sky with hollow eyes—as if confirming that no more deadly rays would fall from that blue sky.

But three days was also enough to do some things.

Enough for Dragon Xuanyuan to recover a little; he stood on the ruins of the temporary command post, looking at the devastated land in silence for a long time.

Enough for Baili Ziyuan to initially refine one of the three Late Stage fifth-order Divine Souls, recovering his Soul Origin to its Peak, the two pairs of grey-white energy wings behind him re-solidifying, the ghost faces on the wings emitting satisfied low roars.

Enough for Li Mingxuan and Leng Qingying to traverse half the battlefield, rescuing those survivors buried in the ruins.

And enough for Su Wuming to complete the thing he had already deduced countless times in his heart.

The fourth day, early morning.

The sky presented a strange blue-grey color, not the dullness of a cloudy day, but the tranquility before a storm.

Clouds hung low, as if pressed down by an invisible hand, motionless, and even the wind had stopped.

The earth was quiet too.

The machinery digging in the ruins had stopped, the wounded groaning in the temporary medical points had quieted down, and those queuing for porridge outside the tents looked up at the sky, their eyes filled with confusion.

They did not know what had happened, but they could feel—something was about to happen.

Dragon Xuanyuan stood on the roof of the temporary command post; although he had not yet fully recovered, his back was straight, his gaze as sharp as an eagle's.

For three days, he had hardly closed his eyes.

Post-war matters were numerous and complicated—casualty statistics, debris cleanup, treatment of the wounded, material distribution, defense deployment... every matter required his final decision, and every decision concerned the lives and deaths of thousands.

But what he cared about most was not these.

What he cared about most were the three Star Domains—Dark Star Domain, Lieyang Star Domain, Hundred Flowers Star Domain.

Marshal Hei Yan was dead, King Fenyang was dead, and Fairy Lingmiao was also dead.

The three fleets were wiped out, not even a single warship escaping.

How long could this news be blocked?

One day? Ten days? A month?

No matter how long, it would eventually leak.

When the top brass of the three Star Domains learned that their fleets and generals had all been lost on an indigenous planet, what would they do?

The answer was self-evident.

They would send even more powerful fleets, even more terrifying powerhouses, bringing the fire of revenge and greater greed, to completely erase this planet from the star map.

The next ones to come might not be Late Stage fifth-order beings.

They might be Peak fifth-order beings.

Dragon Xuanyuan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and drove those distracting thoughts from his mind.

All he could do for now was trust Su Wuming.

Baili Ziyuan hovered in mid-air, about a few zhang away from Dragon Xuanyuan.

In his hand, he held the scythe "Deathly Silence," the grey light on its blade much brighter than it had been three days ago.

His gaze landed in another direction in mid-air, where there was a person.

Su Wuming.

Su Wuming hovered at a high altitude of about a thousand zhang from the ground, his clothes fluttering automatically in the windless air, his long hair flying.

His hands were constantly forming seals, each seal carrying complex energy fluctuations, condensing into precise light patterns in his palms.

Those light patterns were like living things, circulating, intertwining, and reorganizing in his palms, finally transforming into streaks of condensed light beams, shooting toward nine directions in the sky.