628: Chapter 628 To the ends of the earth, I will avenge this humiliation!

The Lion-headed Powerhouse—the contemporary strongest Prodigy of the Golden Mane Lion King lineage, Shi Gang—was currently half-kneeling on the cold, gravel-strewn ground.

His arms, thick as stone pillars, were no longer totems supporting his Battle Intent, but were barely holding up a body that was trembling beyond control.

His golden mane, a symbol of power and majesty, was not standing on end due to Battle Intent.

It was because of a terror that stemmed from the instincts of life itself, an uncontrollable dread.

Every hair stood on end, like a bristling wild cat.

He was of the Yao Race, a descendant of the Bloodline of the sovereign of all beasts.

His perception was far more primitive and direct than that of the Human Race Cultivators who relied on Divine Sense and Cultivation Techniques—and because of this, it was far more cruel.

The moment Luo Xiaojiu's golden Qi and blood, which seemed gentle but actually contained the aura of an ancient Vicious Beast, erupted, the ancient Yao blood flowing endlessly within Shi Gang's body...

...was frozen.

It was not a suppression of Realm or cultivation.

It was a fear of a natural predator, imprinted in the deepest part of his Bloodline, crossing countless generations of inheritance, and long since becoming the collective subconscious of his race, that was completely activated at this moment.

Like an antelope freezing in the shadow of a tiger.

Like a swarm of mice scattering upon smelling a cat.

Like a lamb looking up, seeing not the shepherd's whip, but its own reflection in the butcher's knife.

This was a tremor and submission that transcended reason, transcended life-and-death choices, and existed purely at the genetic level.

He even saw hallucinations.

An archaic era where Chaos had not yet opened, an indescribable golden giant shadow, feet treading on the earth, head touching the firmament, with ten thousand beasts crawling and wailing at its feet.

The giant shadow only needed a single glance to make mountains and rivers shift and the sun and moon lose their light.

And he, Shi Gang, the strongest Prodigy of the Golden Mane Lion King lineage, was—under that glance—nothing more than a trembling rabbit.

"Haa... Haa..."

Shi Gang's throat emitted a stifled, wheezing sound like a broken bellows, his massive lion pupils shrinking to pinpricks, the golden vertical lines around his pupils trembling wildly.

The strength he was so proud of, enough to tear apart Yao Beasts of the same rank, was now—under that silently spreading Bloodline pressure—unable to muster even a fraction of its power.

He could even feel his own Yao Soul, which belonged to a king, emitting a humble whimper.

A thought he had forcibly suppressed in his heart, one he had never dared to dwell on before, suddenly surged into his mind like a demon breaking free from its shackles—

Blood Butcher was a direct descendant of the Blood Race.

What was the Blood Race?

A super ancient race that had dominated the Taichu Continent for tens of thousands of years!

A behemoth that controlled the Nether Blood Sea, inherited ancient taboos, and made even the Holy Land wary!

Which direct descendant of the Blood Race was not born holding a Chaos Supreme Treasure?

Whose Guardian was not an old monster capable of shaking the heavens and earth just by stomping their foot?

The Cultivation Techniques they practiced, the Magic Treasure they wielded, and the trials they underwent were all at a Peak that ordinary Cultivators could hardly reach even after exhausting ten lifetimes!

Such an existence was born to look down upon all living beings, destined to step onto the Nine Heavens and wield power.

How could he... how could he possibly be willing to serve as a servant to a little girl?!

Unless—

Shi Gang's heart felt as if it were being tightly gripped by a cold hand, almost stopping its beat.

He dared not think anymore.

Because that answer had already been written in the most cruel and straightforward way across this silent battlefield—written on the bodies of the various Prodigies lying scattered and dying, written on the golden figure standing still like a deity, unscathed.

The reason Blood Butcher became her servant was not because of some strange curse, not because of some irresistible coercion, and certainly not because the Blood Race was plotting some earth-shattering scheme...

It was simply because—

He couldn't beat her.

Three simple, naked words.

The dignified direct descendant of the Blood Race, one of the seven great Prodigies, the Blood Butcher whose fierce reputation could stop children from crying at night, had—when facing this seemingly delicate young girl—never even truly possessed the option to fight back.

This was not a narrow defeat, not a miscalculation, not having his Divine Ability countered.

This was a total—

Suppression—from the Origin of power, the level of life, and even the dimension of existence.

Just like dust looking up at the stars, mayflies measuring the vast ocean, or summer insects unable to comprehend ice.

And Blood Butcher...

Shi Gang suddenly felt an ice-cold chill.

Blood Butcher was not only a madman with terrifying power, but also a clever person with terrifyingly keen insight.

He must have understood this Soul-crushing gap in the most intuitive way, with his body and Soul, from the very first moment.

Therefore, he made the choice that seemed incredible to Shi Gang, but now appeared incomparably correct and even wise—

Since resistance was destined to be like a moth flying into a flame, to be Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, to be meaningless annihilation...

Then do not resist.

Since one cannot defeat, or even touch...

Then submit.

This was not cowardice, not humiliation.

In the face of an absolute chasm of power, this was perhaps a colder and more efficient survival wisdom.

Living, even if living on one's knees, was better than turning into a handful of worthless ash.

As long as life remained, as long as the true spirit was not extinguished, there would always be opportunities to lie dormant, observe, wait, and even... turn the tables.

This was the survival Law carved into the bones of ancient families like the Blood Race: in the face of irresistible great power, preserving the spark was far more important than meaningless mutual destruction.

But—

Shi Gang's pupils contracted violently again.

A more terrifying thought, one that overturned his understanding, burrowed into his mind like a viper:

Perhaps, even this cold survival wisdom overestimated Blood Butcher's motives.

Perhaps, Blood Butcher's willingness to bow his head did not stem from complex calculations of gain and loss, but from a more primitive, more direct reaction—just like the most unruly Vicious Beast in the wild, upon encountering an incomprehensible, supreme existence that transcended everything, it would tuck away its fangs, lower its head, and emit whimpers of submission.

This was not because of whipping, not because of coercion.

It was because, under the shroud of that absolute power, it had found an unprecedented, reassuring, and even addictive sense of belonging and security.

The status of a direct descendant of the Blood Race might bring power, resources, and attention, but it was also accompanied by endless conspiracies, calculations, and the crises of being in high places where it is cold.

And beside this young girl, the power itself, which was enough to crush all hostility, constituted an absolutely safe Domain.

To be her servant was not to lose freedom—

It was to gain a more solid protection that transcended the status of a Blood Race direct descendant.

If even a madman like Blood Butcher chose to submit due to instinct...

Then what about him, Shi Gang?

Did he still dare to stand up?

Luo Xiaojiu still stood in her original place, not having moved a single step.

She did not even look at those so-called Prodigies lying on the ground, coughing up blood, their auras withered, as if they were merely weeds blown down by the wind, not worth a glance.

Her pale golden eyes calmly passed over these ants and landed on the deep crack in the mountain wall that Blood Butcher had previously crashed into, her gaze shifting slightly—it seemed that the patterns of the crack were more interesting than the life and death of the people before her.

"Cough... cough cough..."

A difficult, choking cough broke the silence.

The Prodigy of the Sword Tiger Clan—Bai Xiao—used that ancient sword, Frost Tiger, which was covered in spiderweb-like cracks and had lost all its spiritual light, to support his body and struggle, bit by bit, out of the collapsed rocks.

He was bathed in blood, his luxurious sword robes were tattered, revealing a chest beneath with torn flesh and deformed bones.

Every movement caused fragments of ruptured internal organs mixed with blood clots to overflow from the corners of his mouth.

He trembled, using all his strength to lift his head.

Then, his gaze—

Collided with those pale golden eyes that had finally seen him.

"Boom—!!!"

In an instant, Bai Xiao felt as if his Divine Soul had been cast into an eternal cold abyss, and simultaneously roasted on the Nine Suns Divine Fire!

Boundless cold and scorching pain struck him at the same time—this was not physical temperature, but the ultimate fear brought about by having his life level completely looked down upon and his Soul ruthlessly dissected!

He was the strongest Genius of the Sword Tiger Clan in a thousand years, the most proud son of the Clan Chief, a sword-Dao Prodigy who had once made his peers look up to him and the older generation marvel.

He had experienced bloody battles in Secret Realms, faced desperate deadlocks, and even fought for his life against opponents half a major Realm higher than him.

But he had never had such a feeling.

It was like a wild rabbit that thought it was powerful in the grass, suddenly encountering an ancient Dragon lazily overlooking the earth.

The Dragon didn't even release Dragon might, didn't display any Divine Ability, just glanced casually—

The rabbit's blood, bone marrow, and even every cell were screaming the same word:

Death.

"You... you..."

Bai Xiao's lips trembled, his upper and lower teeth clattering uncontrollably, making a soft clicking sound.

He wanted to roar, to shout, to use the most ferocious language to defend the last dignity of the Sword Tiger Clan, just as he had done countless times when facing strong enemies in the past.

But when the sound rushed out of his throat, only dry, hoarse, and ugly airflow like a broken bellows remained.

He wanted to shout: "Demon girl! Stop being rampant!"

But the words "being rampant" seemed so absurd and ridiculous at this moment.

How had the other party ever been rampant from beginning to end?

She didn't even make a move, didn't speak any wild words, just stood there quietly, and with the aura that naturally radiated from her, crushed all the pride he had exhausted everything to hold onto.

This was not being rampant.

This was complete disregard.

Just like when humans walk, they don't care if they have stepped on a few ants under their feet.

He wanted to bring up the deterrence of his race again: "My Sword Tiger Clan... will never let you go! To the ends of the earth, this grudge must be avenged!"

But before the words could be spoken, a deeper chill rushed from his tailbone straight to his crown—

If what she was exhibiting at this moment was merely the natural flow of her Qi and blood, then what would her true full-force strike look like?

Splitting mountains?

Dividing seas?

Or... rending the heavens?

And in his Sword Tiger Clan, those Grand Elders whom he regarded as pillars of heaven, whose cultivation had reached the Peak of the Nascent Soul...

Could they take such a blow?

He dared not think.

The thought itself was enough to make his Dao Heart collapse.

Luo Xiaojiu's gaze finally moved away from the crack in the mountain wall.

Her pale golden pupils slowly swept over every figure in the valley who could still stand, or was barely supporting themselves.

Her eyes were very calm.

No anger, no killing intent, not even much emotional fluctuation.

But it was precisely this calmness that stung people's hearts more than the most vicious mockery or the most violent rage.

In this gaze, there was a contempt that went deep into the bone marrow, an aloofness from on high, a pity for those who overestimated themselves.

As if saying:

Look, this bunch of buzzing insects.

They can't even withstand the Qi I unintentionally released.

And they are worthy... to touch the people around me?

The silent stillness, like the heaviest mountain range, crushed the last defenses of every Cultivator present.

In the valley, only the wailing of the wind passing through the rock crevices remained, and that omnipresent, magnificent, and Soul-shuddering golden Qi and blood, silently declaring—

Absolute domination.