232: Chapter 232 The Moon Palace

There was no sound of wind, no birdsong; even the sound of flowing energy had vanished.

Only the turbulent energy that had not yet fully annihilated drifted slowly through the Void Realm, silently recounting the terror of the world-shaking strike that had just occurred.

Just then—

"Brilliant! Truly magnificent!"

A round of crisp applause suddenly rang out, like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, breaking the deathly silence between heaven and earth.

Atop the mountain, Saint Son Yao Wuyue stepped forth.

His figure flickered like a ghost, instantly traversing the vast distance to appear above the edge of the battlefield.

He wore a black robe embroidered with dark golden demon patterns and held a folding fan, clapping lightly as he laughed. His gaze drifted between the severely injured and dying Li Chengsi and the exhausted, kneeling Xuanyuan Zhanxian—filled with undisguised appreciation and greed.

"As expected of the Prodigies capable of making this Saint stop to watch,"

Saint Son Yao Wuyue's voice was crisp and melodious, yet carried a hint of demonic allure:

"Especially you, Xuanyuan Zhanxian. With a Mortal body, you are actually able to unleash the legendary zhuxian sword intent—"

Light flickered in his peach-blossom eyes:

"It is truly a pleasant surprise."

His tone seemed appreciative, but what flickered in those peach-blossom eyes was undisguised covetousness and a desire for control—like a hunter eyeing their most precious prey.

Fentian and the others' expressions changed abruptly.

They forced themselves to muster the last of the spiritual power within their bodies, flickering into motion to quickly rally around Xuanyuan Zhanxian, forming a fragile yet firm defensive line.

Their expressions were grave as they stared fixedly at Saint Son Yao Wuyue above, their eyes filled with vigilance and wariness—this demonic and powerful aura was definitely not that of an ordinary person.

"Central Province, one of the five top powers, Myriad Demon Palace... Saint Son Yao Wuyue!"

Fentian said in a deep voice, his tone carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling; he had clearly recognized the newcomer's identity.

The Myriad Demon Palace's influence was overwhelming, and as its Saint, Saint Son Yao Wuyue possessed unfathomable strength and an eccentric, ruthless temperament. His appearance now undoubtedly made the already perilous situation—worse.

Saint Son Yao Wuyue smiled slightly, his folding fan swaying gently. The demon fox pattern on the fan seemed to come alive, its eyes alluring and dangerous.

"It is indeed this Saint,"

He said in a relaxed tone, as if he had only come to watch a good play:

"Having witnessed the demeanor of two outstanding figures today, I cannot bear to see such pearls covered in dust. Why not accompany me back to the Myriad Demon Palace? My palace is in need of two such... demon slaves?"

He deliberately drew out his tone, the mockery and desire for control in his voice undisguised:

"Oh no, I mean honored guests!"

Saint Son Yao Wuyue's words landed lightly, yet they were wrapped in the arrogance of one looking down from a mountain peak at ants.

And when the words "honored guests" spilled from his lips, they seemed even more contemptuous than "demon slaves"—as if being taken under the wing of the Myriad Demon Palace was already a tremendous favor to these two losers, the supreme glory of an ant clinging to a Dragon, allowing no room for refusal.

"What kind of thing are you to be worthy of speaking to us!"

Although Xuanyuan Zhanxian was kneeling from exhaustion, his spiritual power depleted like a cracked riverbed, and his Meridians still throbbing with tearing pain—the sharpness in his eyes had not diminished in the slightest; instead, it burned even brighter due to this naked humiliation.

He suddenly raised his hand, and the long sword in his grip emitted a clear, stubborn tremor. The tip of the sword pointed directly at Saint Son Yao Wuyue above. His voice was hoarse yet laced with icy killing intent, every word tempered with the resolution to shatter falsehoods and never bend:

"I, Xuanyuan Zhanxian, live as a Sword Cultivator and shall die as a sword soul—"

"Even if I am completely drained, I will never kneel to demons and evildoers!"

Even if he had to rely on his long sword just to stand at this moment, the pride in his bones would never allow others to humiliate him so.

Saint Son Yao Wuyue seemed not to have heard his words, not even glancing at the sword tip pointed at him, as if it were merely an ant waving its antennae.

His peach-blossom eyes remained firmly locked on Xuanyuan Zhanxian and the collapsed Li Chengsi, his tone carrying a hint of coaxing mockery, playing with his prey like a cat toying with a mouse:

"Why be so stubborn? You two are already at the end of your rope, your spiritual power exhausted, your Physical Body severely injured, without even the strength to protect yourselves."

"The winds and clouds of this Taichu Continent are about to rise, and a great catastrophe is coming. Only by joining the Myriad Demon Palace can you borrow our palace's power to avoid the calamity—"

He swayed his folding fan lightly:

"Only then will there be a glimmer of survival."

Before he could finish speaking—

The Void Realm on the other side suddenly rippled, like the surface of a lake into which a pebble had been thrown, or silk being gently stirred by an invisible hand.

Within the distorted space, that beautiful figure which had been hidden for so long finally appeared slowly—completely exposed to everyone's view.

With an immortal grace and jade-like bones, her dark hair cascaded down to her waist like a waterfall, the tips stained with faint, hazy moonlight, as if she carried her own pure radiance, unblemished by dust.

She wore a moon-white palace dress, the hem embroidered with intricate star patterns. As it fluttered in the breeze, it flowed with an ethereal, transcendent Dao, like the Nine Heavens' galaxy pouring down.

Her face was cold and peerless, her brows like distant mountains holding dark pigment, her eyes like frozen frost in a cold pool, her skin whiter than snow, her lips like vermilion cinnabar. She was like a Fairy from the moon descending to the Mortal world, not tainted by a single speck of worldly smoke—yet she carried a majesty that looked down upon all living beings.

Her bare feet tapped lightly on the Void Realm. With every step, ripples of pearly white spread out. The moonlight and Dao surrounding her intertwined, her aura ethereal and vast, as magnificent as the Nine Heavens' galaxy.

It pressed down so heavily that everyone present felt their breathing hitch slightly, and even the black mist churning around Saint Son Yao Wuyue seemed to be forced back by this pure radiance.

Her appearance caused Saint Son Yao Wuyue, who had been relaxed, to narrow his eyes abruptly, and the mockery in his peach-blossom eyes faded for the most part—revealing a touch of genuine wariness.

This aura was pure, vast, and majestic; even he dared not underestimate it in the slightest.

"Central Province, one of the five top powers, Guanghan Immortal Palace... Saintess, Long Yue."

The woman parted her vermilion lips slightly. Her voice was cold and clear, like jade beads falling onto a plate—crisp and melodious, yet carrying an unquestionable majesty, as if her words were the Law of heaven and earth:

"This person has a fated connection with my Guanghan Immortal Palace."

Long Yue's gaze slowly swept across the scene, first landing on the listless Li Chengsi, who looked like a stray dog—without a ripple, as if she were looking at an unimportant rock.

She then turned to the kneeling Xuanyuan Zhanxian, lingering for a moment on his figure as he gripped his long sword, his back bent but refusing to lower his head.

Deep within her cold eyes, a trace of imperceptible brilliance quietly flashed—as fast as a shooting star, or like a pebble dropped into a deep pool, vanishing in an instant.

Saint Son Yao Wuyue sneered, his folding fan snapping shut with a "clack," the fan ribs striking his palm heavily with a crisp sound.

He pointed his fan at Long Yue, his tone carrying a measure of sarcasm and provocation:

"Saintess Long Yue, what a 'fated connection'!"

"This person was chosen by this Saint first; are you trying to blatantly snatch them away?"

"Guanghan Immortal Palace and the Myriad Demon Palace have always kept to themselves. By acting this way today—"

Cold light flickered in his eyes:

"Are you not afraid of inciting a conflict between our two sects?"

Long Yue's expression remained unchanged, still cold and indifferent. The moonlight surrounding her swirled even more brilliantly, forming a solid and pure barrier that isolated the demonic aura:

"Saint Son Yao Wuyue, this place is the Southern Barbarian Eternal Graveyard, not the territory of your Myriad Demon Palace. How can I allow you to act wantonly here?"

"The fate of these two cannot be decided by you alone; we shall rely on our own means."

Her voice suddenly turned cold, like ice from the Nine Heavens:

"If you insist on fighting for them, Guanghan Immortal Palace—is not afraid of a battle!"

The moment her words fell—

Two completely different yet equally vast and magnificent auras suddenly collided!

Saint Son Yao Wuyue's demonic power churned, black mist swirling around him. Vague, hideous demonic shadows roared and shrieked within the mist, emitting a bloodthirsty and violent aura!

Long Yue's moonlight surged, filling the sky with pure radiance. It seemed as if celestial music was faintly audible, peaceful yet carrying an inviolable majesty!

Invisible force clashed and intertwined between them, the Void Realm pressed until it hummed, and tiny cracks spread silently like spiderwebs—the energy between heaven and earth was thrown into chaos!

For a moment, the battlefield, which had just experienced a world-shaking battle, became tense once again, even more stifling than when Xuanyuan Zhanxian and Li Chengsi were dueling earlier.

The severely injured and dying Li Chengsi, the exhausted and struggling Xuanyuan Zhanxian, and Jian Tanghuang, Chu Zhanxiao, and others who were guarding in front of Xuanyuan Zhanxian while forcing themselves to maintain their spiritual power—had now become "prey" in the eyes of the two Prodigies from the top powers of the Central Province. Left to be fought over, their fates seemed no longer in their own hands.

However—

Just as the confrontation between Saint Son Yao Wuyue and Long Yue reached its peak, their energy coiled and ready to strike, as if the entire battlefield would explode in the next second—

"Cough, cough..."

A low and hoarse cough suddenly rang out, like a broken gong being struck in the deathly silence—breaking the tightly coiled confrontation.

Li Chengsi, who had been silent and regulating his breathing, his aura so weak it was almost severed, suddenly lifted his head slowly—a strange and insane smile appearing on his face.

His laughter was hoarse and shrill, filled with unwillingness, resentment, and the resolution to perish together—making one's scalp tingle and one's whole body go cold.