Chapter 300: The Island of Death and Extinction! Celebrating Your Triumph! No One Below the Rank of Marquis

Chapter 300: The Isle of Death! A Celebration of Your Triumph! None Below the Rank of Marquis Can Slay Me!

Within the grand hall, a torrential flood of energy surged with violent, unrestrained fury.

The battle formation, composed of ten thousand avatars—each a manifestation of the will of humanity’s supreme masters—had reached its zenith.

These strikes had long since transcended the limits of ordinary black-hole-level power, laced with the subtle, profound mysteries of Domain Lord-level forces.

The power had escalated once more!

It had surged beyond the boundaries of the extreme black hole!

A sword aura, jointly unleashed by three hundred avatars, possessed a sharpness capable of effortlessly tearing through the protective divine light of a junior Domain Lord; a formation constructed by thousands of avatars exerted a suppression so heavy that even a peak Domain Lord would struggle to take a single step.

Yet, Qin Feng, standing at the eye of the storm, remained like a piece of divine metal forged in the dawn of time—no matter the thousand hammer blows, he stood immovable.

His physical body, bolstered by the supreme foundation of the [Primal Singularity] and the terrifying amplification of the [Twin Masks], had reached an inconceivable state.

Those attacks, capable of grievously wounding a peak Domain Lord, left only shallow, jagged wounds upon him, which were repaired almost instantly by the surging golden vitality and boundless life force within his veins.

What truly unsettled the watching masters, however, was Qin Feng’s ability to unravel laws and energy.

Three thousand years ago, had he faced such an assault, the formation runes, toxic laws, and curses clinging to his wounds would have burrowed into his flesh like maggots, eroding his vitality and hindering his recovery.

But now, everything was different.

When a grey blade-light, imbued with the law of "Nirvanic Wither," struck his arm, countless hair-thin grey runes emerged upon the torn flesh, attempting to shatter his cellular structure. Yet, Qin Feng’s spirit, possessing a quality of "Pure Black," instantly perceived their essence.

He did not even need to consciously mobilize his energy; a mere instinctive vibration of his blood and flesh was enough to crush those complex rune structures, reducing them to harmless, inert particles of energy.

His body had become a furnace—a crucible capable of analyzing, purifying, and even devouring all laws.

This was the fruit of three thousand years of bitter cultivation.

His "mastery" of thirty billion body-refining techniques and his grandmaster-level attainments in three auxiliary fields had elevated his understanding of power to an unprecedented height.

By this point in the battle, the ten thousand "examiners" had exhausted every method short of direct suppression by realm.

The web they had woven was enough to trap and kill any peak Domain Lord.

But Qin Feng simply would not die.

He remained pinned in the center of the formation, his spiritual energy, flesh, and consciousness bound tightly by layers of legal shackles, unable to mount an effective counterattack.

He was a living target, silently enduring the relentless, unending bombardment from every direction.

Slashed by blades, crushed by axes, drowned in floods, scorched by fire, struck by lightning, and frozen in ice...

Every cruel method imaginable was visited upon him.

Qin Feng’s blue-gold power armor was long since shattered, revealing the skin beneath, which shimmered with an immortal radiance.

His body underwent a harrowing cycle of destruction and restoration.

Every time it was torn asunder, it healed as if new in the very next instant, and, subtly, the newly mended skin grew even tougher than before.

The results of the test sent tremors through the hearts of every human titan watching from the shadows.

Time flowed slowly amidst the protracted assault.

Qin Feng, at the center of the formation, stood tall after enduring countless billions of strikes.

His expression, initially one of shock and gravity, gradually turned calm, until finally, a glimmer of realization dawned in his eyes.

He understood.

This was not an ambush; it was an examination.

An entrance exam hosted by the highest echelons of the human race, featuring the most luxurious lineup in history.

With this realization, Qin Feng’s tense spirit finally relaxed.

He ceased his futile attempts to break the formation and instead allowed the attacks to baptize his body. At the same time, he raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the layers of formations and energy screens to look toward the empty space above the hall.

"Esteemed seniors,"

His voice was steady and resonant, clearly reaching the ears of every master, "Has this junior, Qin Feng, passed the examination? May I now have your approval to depart for the Isle of Death?"

The moment the words fell, the violent torrent of energy in the hall came to an abrupt halt.

A deathly silence descended upon the space.

The next moment.

"Hahahaha—"

"Hahahahahahahaha!"

Peals of heartfelt, joyous, and satisfied laughter, like rolling thunder, echoed throughout the main hall.

There was no pressure in this laughter, only the purest appreciation and delight of elders witnessing an outstanding descendant.

As the laughter rang out, the ten thousand imposing extreme black-hole avatars melted like snow under the sun, transforming into countless brilliant light particles that rose and vanished into nothingness.

The layers of formations that had bound Qin Feng dissolved into smoke.

The surroundings began to shift, and the once-empty hall revealed its true form.

Qin Feng found himself standing in the center of a hall of indescribable grandeur.

Below him sat the Marquis-level powerhouses, their presence as deep as the sea; they took many forms—humanoid, bestial—but every gaze was fixed upon him with warmth.

Higher up, arranged in a circular tiered structure, sat the thrones of the Emperor-level powerhouses, whose presence was even more ethereal and vast.

Higher still, amidst swirling clouds, one could vaguely discern a few Saint-level existences who seemed to exist in harmony with the cosmos, and even the presence of Universe Lords.

And at the very summit, beneath the dome where the stars of the universe seemed to serve as a backdrop, a figure sat quietly upon the sole supreme throne.

He was the master of the Extreme Battle Group, one of the true pillars of humanity—the Lord of Extremity.

His body was shrouded in an illusory halo, making it impossible to discern his true features.

One could only vaguely see that he wore blue-gold power armor similar to Qin Feng’s, yet imbued with the infinite mysteries of the universe, and upon his head rested a golden-green wreath that seemed woven from the sprouts of a nascent cosmos.

Any gaze that attempted to fix upon his face was twisted by a supreme law.

One might think they had memorized his silhouette the second before, but the next, the memory would vanish from the mind as if it had never existed.

This was an absolute suppression of life hierarchy, a supreme state that mortals could neither comprehend, remember, nor describe.

Facing such a sight, even with Qin Feng’s iron will, his spirit could not help but sway. He bowed deeply: "Disciple Qin Feng pays respects to the Lord of Extremity, and to all esteemed seniors!"

"Good lad! No need for formalities."

The voice of the Lord of Extremity resonated directly in Qin Feng’s heart, gentle yet filled with power.

He smiled, seemingly extremely satisfied with Qin Feng’s performance.

He slowly raised his hand and waved it gently toward Qin Feng.

An irresistible yet incredibly soft force enveloped Qin Feng.

His shattered power armor and the Star-Swallowing Spear, its shaft riddled with cracks, instantly decomposed into their most primitive particles.

Then, before Qin Feng’s stunned eyes, these particles began to reassemble.

Countless profound legal runes flew into them like living things, weaving and forging in a manner that defied the gods.

In just a few breaths, a brand-new set of blue-gold power armor, shimmering with the deep fluctuations of Domain Lord-level laws, and a pitch-black spear, its tip spitting out visions of stars being born and extinguished, had taken shape, automatically equipping themselves and hovering beside Qin Feng.

"This set of 'Heavenly Derivation Armor' has accompanied you since your humble beginnings, long since fused with your spirit, responding as naturally as your own limbs. To replace it with a brand-new set would force you to waste time in recalibration, losing that seamless, unified state of being."

The Lord of Extremity spoke slowly: "I have used your original armor as a foundation, elevating its essence and infusing it with new laws. Now, they are top-tier Domain Lord-level artifacts, sufficient to accompany you into battle on the outer islands."

Qin Feng stroked the brand-new power armor, gripped the familiar yet transformed Star-Swallowing Spear, and felt the terrifying power contained within. A surge of warmth flooded his heart as he bowed deeply once more: "My thanks to the Lord of Extremity for this generous gift!"

"Heh,"

The Lord of Extremity waved a hand, his voice turning solemn. "With the strength you have just displayed, you are certainly fit to venture to the Island of Dead Meteors!

I shall say no more; this journey is both a quest to expand the frontiers of the human race and a path for your own tempering.

The day you carve your way through the Island of Dead Meteors and return in triumph shall be the day your Great Dao first takes form.

When that time comes, it will be a double celebration, and we shall personally host your victory feast!"

These words set Qin Feng’s blood boiling.

"Understood!"

He offered no further words, merely nodding heavily—a single word that encapsulated his entire resolve and promise.

"Hahahaha!"

Within the great hall, hearty laughter rang out once more.

The assembled Kings and Emperors looked at Qin Feng with undisguised admiration.

In truth, had they not been forced into a corner, who would willingly choose the humiliating path of a "strategic retreat"?

To abandon their own kin—those prodigies still fighting bloody battles on the Island of Dead Meteors—leaving them besieged and worn down for thirty thousand years, was an agony for any human powerhouse with a shred of spirit.

Yet, reality was cruel.

Though the human race produced prodigies in abundance, they faced a rare, cost-no-object alliance of the myriad races. Especially with the enemy deploying dozens of long-famed Divine Prohibition Domain Lords, the human race found itself stretched thin at the Domain Lord level.

To send ordinary prodigies was to send them to their deaths.

To send top-tier prodigies was to risk their fall, as the enemy’s numbers were overwhelming.

Every Divine Prohibition prodigy was a beacon of the human future, a future King or Emperor, and they could not be easily squandered.

It was precisely because there was no "breaker of the deadlock"—someone capable of single-handedly countering dozens of peers—that the leadership had been forced to make the decision to "cut their losses."

But now, that breaker had appeared!

Qin Feng was that capital! He was the hope that could shatter the stalemate and rewrite the course of the war!

His journey was not merely to rescue his kin, but for the grand, eternal design of the human race.

Once successful, they would not only firmly control the Island of Dead Meteors—a treasure trove of resources—but also seize vast quantities of cosmic crystals.

With these crystals, the three hundred Kings currently stuck at bottlenecks could collectively ascend to the rank of Emperor within ten thousand years. What a terrifying force that would be!

When the time came to contest the "Mountain of Eternal Life," the human race would hold an absolute advantage, at the very least suppressing the myriad races for the next million years, leaving them gasping for breath!

Link by link, Qin Feng’s actions on the Island of Dead Meteors would be the starting point of the human race’s grand strategy for the next million years—the butterfly flapping its wings to summon the storm.

At the same time, as the Lord of Extremity had said, the Island of Dead Meteors—that battlefield of blood and fire, that siege by dozens of Divine Prohibition prodigies—was the perfect whetstone for Qin Feng.

His unprecedented "Path of Extremity" required such extreme pressure to break through the path ahead and forge his own Dao.

That was why the Lord of Extremity spoke of a "double celebration."

These words highlighted the immense significance of Qin Feng’s mission while expressing deep expectations for his personal martial path. The breadth of his vision and the depth of his emotional intelligence warmed Qin Feng’s heart, leaving him deeply moved.

"This is the latest star map of the Island of Dead Meteors."

The Lord of Extremity flicked his finger, and a stream of light sank into Qin Feng’s brow.

In an instant, an incredibly detailed, three-dimensional star map, packed with vast information, was deeply branded into his mind.

"The Island of Dead Meteors is divided into an outer island and an inner island. Between these two regions lies a natural prohibition formed by the laws of the cosmic origin. The outer island allows only those at the Domain Lord level and below to enter; it is the main battlefield for you juniors. It is filled with resources, where crisis and opportunity coexist, and rare treasures abound."

"The inner island, however, only permits those at the Marquis level to enter; any higher or lower, and they are repelled by the power of the laws. The core output of the inner island is the cosmic crystals we require."

"The rules of the inner and outer islands are complementary. For every alien creature you slay on the outer island, you will receive a certain number of 'Resurrection Marks' based on the strength of their cultivation. These marks can be used to resurrect Marquis-level powerhouses who fall in battle on the inner island. This is the core mechanism of the tug-of-war on the Island of Dead Meteors."

"On this journey, the human leadership will provide no further reinforcements. Everything must depend on you and the surviving remnants still fighting on the outer island."

The Lord of Extremity’s voice carried a note of gravity.

"Understood!"

Qin Feng said in a deep voice.

He carefully examined the star map in his mind, once again struck by the trust the leadership had placed in him.

This map did not merely mark the detailed topography, resource zones, and dangerous areas of the islands; more importantly, it clearly identified the current locations, force compositions, command structures, and strategic missions of all remaining human units on the outer island.

According to the map, the human forces still struggling for survival on the outer island consisted of about a thousand Domain Lord-level powerhouses and over ten thousand Extreme Black Hole-level prodigies.

They were divided into hundreds of small squads, scattered across the eighty-one outer islands, conducting a grueling guerrilla war under the unified command of a peak Domain Lord named "Pale Wolf."

This intelligence was the human race’s final trump card, its value beyond measure.

Should it leak, the myriad races could follow the map to hunt down and systematically eradicate these last remnants of human strength.

"To catch the myriad races off guard, you will depart discreetly; there will be no public troop movements."

The Lord of Extremity’s voice rose again, carrying a cold, murderous intent.

"Your mission is to infiltrate secretly and merge with combat squad number 'Seventy-Eight.'

We will simultaneously deploy troops to a dozen other contested secret realms, making a grand show of force to create pressure, feigning an intent to fight a decisive battle elsewhere, thereby lulling them into the belief that we have abandoned the Island of Dead Meteors."

"I intend for the myriad races to lose everything and gain nothing on the Island of Dead Meteors this time!"

"The Island of Dead Meteors is now entirely in your hands, Qin Feng!

Remember, act as you see fit. In critical moments, you need not follow frontline orders; your own judgment is supreme.

This is my military seal. When necessary, you may use it to mobilize every warrior on the outer islands!"

As he spoke, an ancient military seal, crafted from chaotic-colored metal and engraved with the characters "Extremity" on one side and a map of an endless galaxy on the other, floated quietly before Qin Feng.

Qin Feng reached out with both hands and solemnly accepted the seal.

As it touched his palms, it felt immensely heavy.

The weight was not merely physical; it was the weight of responsibility.

A profound trust!

Qin Feng took a deep breath. He knew that behind this trust lay the entire expectation of the human leadership and the lives of ten thousand comrades-in-arms.

To ignore orders, to act at one's own discretion, and to command all warriors on the outer islands—this authority surpassed that of a frontline commander, nearing that of a "Theater Governor" endowed with supreme power.

This trust moved Qin Feng, yet it also brought an unprecedented pressure.

Clutching the military seal, he bowed deeply once more to the Lord of Extremity and all the human masters present.

"I shall not fail this mission!"

No further grandiloquence followed, only these five words, each heavy as a mountain.

The gathered titans looked upon the young man, nodding slightly, their eyes brimming with expectation.

None stepped forward to impart a final technique or bestow a life-saving relic.

For all present could see that Qin Feng stood at a pivotal threshold, poised to break from his cocoon and emerge as a butterfly.

His path was the singular, unparalleled "Path of the Limit."

At this moment, any external secret art or inheritance, steeped in another’s personal style, could act as a "disturbance," causing his nascent Dao to veer ever so slightly off course.

For a peerless prodigy like Qin Feng, the greatest aid was the trust of non-interference.

Let him venture forth, let him realize, let him carve out a brilliant new world with his own blade!

Qin Feng lingered no longer. After bowing once more to the elders, he turned and transformed into a streak of light, resolutely departing the core temple that represented the highest will of the human race.

Watching his retreating figure vanish, the great powers in the hall debated for a while longer.

"Pass my order: reinforce the seventeen war zones, including the 'Molten Sector,' immediately! Make a show of it, be aggressive, and let the myriad races believe that our main offensive lies there!"

"Indeed. As for the Island of Dead Meteors, let it maintain the facade of 'steady retreat.'

To devour this fat piece of meat, the myriad races will inevitably pull troops from other sectors; their defensive lines must be riddled with gaps."

"With the scales tipped, using Qin Feng as our sharpest spear to strike the shield where the myriad races have concentrated their greatest strength... our full-scale offensives in other sectors will reap a bountiful harvest!"

"Hahaha, provided that Qin Feng can pin down all the divine-prohibited geniuses of the myriad races there, or even... crush them!"

"Is that even a question worth discussing?"

The Heaven-Swallowing King scanned the room, speaking with pride.

After the monstrous display of strength they had just witnessed, every master present possessed an intuitive understanding of Qin Feng’s power.

No one doubted him anymore.

In fact, having briefly laid out the strategic deception against the myriad races, these ancient monsters, who had lived for countless eons, began to discuss another matter with great enthusiasm.

"Gentlemen, shall we deliberate in advance? When Qin Feng returns in triumph, what reward would befit such an unprecedented achievement?"

For a time, the atmosphere in the hall grew spirited.

...

Stepping out from the temple that symbolized the highest will of humanity, Qin Feng did not pause for a moment.

Holding the token granted by the Lord of the Limit, he headed straight for a super-long-distance space teleportation array in the core of the Saint Academy headquarters.

The base of the array was forged from an unknown dark-gold metal, inscribed with billions of intricate runes that formed a vast celestial map.

When Qin Feng stepped into the center and pressed the token into the groove, the entire array ignited instantly.

There was no blinding glare, only gentle, water-like ripples of space spreading from beneath his feet. The surroundings did not dissolve into the usual kaleidoscopic tunnel; instead, the world itself seemed to be softly "folded."

One moment he was in the solemn Saint Academy, the next, the scenery around him had shifted entirely.

The sensation was less like teleportation and more like being plucked by an invisible hand from one page of an immense book and flipped instantly to another.

He was now in the 944th sector of human territory.

A majestic cosmic city, suspended amidst the sea of stars, greeted his eyes.

This city, named "Outpost," was the largest human stronghold closest to the Island of Dead Meteors.

It lacked the prosperity and splendor of typical cosmic metropolises, presenting instead a grim, heavy style of a war fortress.

The massive alloy dome was covered in dense clusters of giant source-energy cannons, their muzzles flickering with a chilling, ghostly blue light, perpetually aimed at the deep cosmos.

At the city's edge, grand walls composed of energy shimmered in and out of existence, inscribed with flowing laws—clearly a King-level defensive formation.

Inside the city, the atmosphere was murderous and oppressive.

The warriors walking the streets were mostly clad in standard-issue armor, carrying an indelible scent of blood and malice.

They moved in haste, their eyes sharp as blades, rarely exchanging words, yet a shared spirit of defiance permeated every corner of the air.

On public screens throughout the city, there were no commercial advertisements or entertainment news, only cold casualty reports and heart-wrenching obituaries.

"Outer Island of the Island of Dead Meteors, Sector 792 has fallen. All seventeen members of our 'Red Scorpion Squad' are missing after a fierce battle; presumed KIA..."

"The Crystal Race has issued a bounty: the head of the human Domain Lord 'Broken Mountain' is worth one top-tier Domain Lord formation disk..."

"Latest news: three more joint fleets of alien races have arrived at the entrance of the Island of Dead Meteors; pressure on our front line has increased dramatically!"

Each shocking piece of information struck like a heavy hammer against the heart of every human warrior who saw it.

Indignation spread silently through the crowd.

Qin Feng could clearly sense countless powerful, undisguised mental energies colliding in the air, filled with rage, grief, and resentment.

This was the front line of war, where peace and comfort were unattainable luxuries.

Hatred between races was magnified infinitely here, leaving no room for buffer or compromise.

Barely kilometers from the teleportation hall, Qin Feng witnessed three sudden, bloody skirmishes.

A Black Hole-level "Demon Horn" alien, with dark red skin and two horns, had his head severed by a human warrior simply for casting a contemptuous smile as they passed.

A caravan of "Insectoids" and "Rock-kin" attempted to pass off inferior goods in the trading zone to a weary human soldier returning from the front; they were caught on the spot by a passing patrol, and without a word of negotiation, a brutal slaughter erupted in the middle of the busy street.

In the end, the alien merchants were all killed, and the human side paid the price of two men severely wounded.

It was chaotic and bloody, yet it followed an order of iron and blood.

In this city, "those not of my race must have a different heart" was no longer a slogan, but a law of survival carved into the marrow.

Qin Feng did not hide his presence. Clad in the blue-gold power armor modified by the Lord of the Limit himself, and carrying the Star-Swallowing Spear, he walked down the street.

His powerful aura of a Limit Black Hole-level, combined with the tangible, murderous intent forged through endless slaughter, caused many ill-intentioned gazes to shift away the moment they touched him.

Yet, there were always fools blinded by greed or arrogance.

At the mouth of a secluded alley, three aliens—all at the peak of the Limit Black Hole level, belonging to the "Shadow," "Demon," and "Undead" races—blocked his path in a triangular formation.

"Human, your gear looks good. You must be a fledgling fresh from the rear, right?"

The leader, an Undead, grinned, the ghostly green soul-fire in his skeletal sockets flickering violently. "Hand over your armor and your spatial ring, and we might consider leaving you a whole corpse."

Qin Feng stopped. He did not even look at the three aliens, instead tilting his head slightly to glance deep into the alley.

There, several more hidden auras lurked; clearly, they were accomplices.

"Are you,"

Qin Feng’s voice was calm, without a ripple, "speaking to me?"

"Enough talk!"

The Shadow’s figure blurred, as if merging into the darkness, leaving only a cold voice behind: "Kill him!"

Before the words faded, the alluring Demon woman had already fired two pink beams from her eyes, striking straight at Qin Feng’s brow.

It was a charm technique targeting the soul; among peers, a moment of carelessness would lead to a loss of focus, turning one into a lamb for the slaughter.

Simultaneously, the Undead’s bones cracked with a thunderous sound as his frame surged to five meters in height, and a massive bone blade, carved from a spine, descended with a shriek that tore through space.

And the long-vanished Shadow Race materialized soundlessly behind Qin Feng, a jet-black dagger drenched in deadly venom striking toward his vital vitals behind his heart, like the fangs of a viper.

Three peak Limit Black Hole powerhouses, possessing seamless coordination, launched a definitive killing strike from three dimensions: spiritual, frontal, and rear.

Yet, they were facing Qin Feng.

Faced with a soul strike potent enough to trouble an ordinary divine-forbidden prodigy, Qin Feng's gaze did not waver in the slightest.

The two pink rays of light, upon approaching within three inches of his forehead, seemed to crash against an invisible black wall, instantly annihilating without evoking even a single ripple.

His sea of consciousness, boasting a "pure black" quality, was as rock-solid as the deepest singularity in the universe; it was not something a secret technique of this caliber could shake.

Confronted with the bone blade cleaving straight down, Qin Feng did not even lift his head. He merely raised the Star-Devouring Spear in his hand slightly upward at leisure.

"Clink!"

A sound so crisp it was almost pleasant to the ear.

The moment that massive bone blade, heavy with immense force, touched the slender tip of the spear, it shattered inch by inch starting from the tip like paper mache, turning into a cloud of bone dust that filled the air.

A terrifying, unyielding force surged up along the bone blade, blasting the five-meter-tall Necromorph entirely into a mixture of flesh and bone.

And at the exact instant that jet-black dagger was about to touch the power armor on his back, Qin Feng's figure swayed slightly, as if half a beat too slow.

The pupils of the Shadow assassin contracted sharply, for his foolproof strike had actually pierced empty air!

An afterimage!

"Are you... looking for me?"

A cold voice, like a murmur from the depths of the Nine Serenes abyss, rang beside his ear.

The hairs all over the Shadow's body stood on end instantly; without a second thought, he prepared to activate his innate talent once more to flee into the shadows.

Alas, it was too late.

A hand covered in blue-gold armor had gripped his neck at some unknown point.

The strength of that palm was indescribably terrifying; no matter how the Shadow struggled or tried to blur his body into intangibility, he could not break free in the slightest.

"Crack."

With a soft snap, the Shadow's head was crushed by brute force.

From the outbreak of the battle to its conclusion, barely a single breath of time had passed.

Three foreign peak Limit Black Hole powerhouses fiercely renowned throughout the Cosmic City, along with their accomplices waiting deep in the alleyways to reap the spoils, were instantly obliterated by Qin Feng in a near-crushing manner.

He withdrew his palm and did not cast a single glance at the remains on the ground, as though he had merely swatted a few flies at random.

He stepped away, leaving behind an alleyway that was gradually becoming saturated with the stench of blood.

Such interludes occurred over a dozen more times throughout the next several days. Any foreign race that dared to show their fangs to him, regardless of race or background, met with only one ultimate end—death.

Qin Feng slaughtered along his path, collecting as he went. The corpses of these foreign races, especially those peak Limit Black Hole powerhouses, were in themselves a considerable fortune.

Several days later, he arrived at the trading house within the Cosmic City.

When he dumped the mountainous pile of corpses belonging to over a hundred peak Limit Black Hole aliens, along with the remains of several low-level Domain Lords, out from his subspace storage unit onto the specialized decomposition platform all at once, even the well-traveled manager of the trading house could not help but suck in a cold breath.

"This... all of these, were they done by you alone, Your Excellency..."

The manager was a human elder whose aura resided at the peak of the Domain Lord realm; he looked at Qin Feng, his eyes filled with shock and awe.

"Count them, settle the balance."

Qin Feng was concise.

"Yes! Yes! Right away!"

The manager did not dare delay, immediately initiating the highest-specification appraisal and reclamation procedure.

Sophisticated instruments extended one after another, scanning, analyzing, and valuing each corpse.

Without the slightest hesitation, Qin Feng immediately placed a new order within the internal system of the trading house.

"All the rare alloys on the list, I want them all."

His list enumerated over a hundred metals and materials rare to the absolute extreme.

Included among them were "Memory Gold," capable of self-repair and energy absorption; "Void Sand," which could perfectly shield against spiritual perception; and "Singularity Heart Shards," a critical material serving as the core drive source for the Mechanical Race.

The value of this order depleted almost all of the contribution points he had just obtained.

When the massive quantity of alloys was packed into specialized spatial storage boxes and delivered into Qin Feng's hands, he had already become a minor legend within the trading house.

A mysterious, powerful, and lavishly spending solitary powerhouse.

Qin Feng paid no heed to this; taking the materials, he swiftly left the trading house and rented a cultivation quiet room possessing the highest defense rating within the Cosmic City.

For the following month, he did not step past his door.

Inside the quiet room, Qin Feng sat cross-legged.

Before him, the massive quantity of rare alloys floated in the air like a brilliant river of stars.

His fingers flew like lightning, continuously tracing profound and inscrutable runes in midair.

These runes contained both the precise technological diagrams from the Mechanical Race and the ancient mysteries of human formations and artifact-crafting theories.

Under the perfect control of his grandmaster-level skills and pure black quality sea of consciousness, those rigid alloys behaved like docile flowing water, being freely decomposed, restructured, and fused.

Sophisticated components were rapidly manufactured under his will, then assembled into form at a speed that surpassed the limits of human imagination.

One, two, three...

Mechanical creations, their bodies cast in dark gold, their lines fluid yet bursting with a sense of power, and their eyes flickering with a crimson glow, began to continuously appear within the quiet room.

The aura of every single one of these mechanical creations stood firmly at the Limit Black Hole level, and within their core programming, portions of the combat logic of divine-forbidden tier secret techniques that Qin Feng had copied from the Stele Forest of Enlightenment were branded.

They were machines of slaughter, masterpieces of war.

A month later, when the final batch of alloys was completely exhausted, three hundred brand-new mechanical creations emitting a cold killing intent stood quietly before Qin Feng.

Qin Feng slowly opened his eyes, feeling the surge of amplifying power transmitted from the Twin Masks—which had become even more majestic due to the sharp increase in the number of its "other half"—and nodded with satisfaction.

"Counting what was accumulated before, by now, the number of Limit Black Hole divine-forbidden tier mechanical creations I possess has exceeded one thousand."

"Such a massive base allows the amplification of the Twin Masks upon my physical body to reach an extremely terrifying degree. This is one of my greatest trump cards for daring to claim that 'none below the rank of Marquis can kill me.'"

He calculated silently in his heart.

"This journey to the Dead Meteor Island features a complex environment and unpredictable human hearts.

I must bring a few of the most elite mechanical creations inside; they can serve as a surprise force at a critical moment.

In addition, I must bring a batch of backup top-tier alloys, just in case I need to manufacture new avatars or repair equipment inside."

"Even..."

A sharp light flashed in Qin Feng's eyes, "I can utilize these mechanical creations to disguise myself under the identity of the Mechanical Race. The Mechanical Race has always acted in a domineering and reclusive manner; blending in as a genius of the Mechanical Race might yield unexpected and miraculous effects under certain specific circumstances."

With the plan decided, Qin Feng began his final preparations.

He closed his eyes once more, sinking his mind into the sea of consciousness.

Those thirty billion secret techniques related to body refinement were no longer isolated strands of knowledge by now, but had instead transformed into a vast and boundless ocean.

Qin Feng's will swam through it, grasping at will; he could masterfully synthesize dozens or hundreds of different principles of secret techniques, deducing entirely new practical applications.

His theories had been thoroughly transmuted into the instinct of practice.

That supreme refining secret of the Machine Race—the "Intelligent Devouring Art"—had long since been mastered to the realm of total control.

Everything was prepared to perfection.

Finally, Qin Feng drew a pair of jet-black wings from his spatial ring.

It was the secret treasure obtained from the Blood God Tower—the Black Sky Wings.

Due to the urgency of time before, he had been unable to refine them completely.

Now, he channeled his vast spiritual power, its quality refined to a "pure black," like an indestructible blade piercing into the layered seals within the wings.

The seals, which had once seemed obscure and impenetrable to him, now crumbled before his master-level formation attainments and terrifying spiritual force.

The first layer... shattered!

The second layer... shattered!

...

The tenth layer... shattered!

After refining ten core seals in succession, the Black Sky Wings emitted a joyful hum, establishing a bond with Qin Feng’s soul as intimate as blood ties.

With a thought, the wings manifested behind his back. A gentle flap!

"Hum—"

He transformed into a streak of black light invisible to the naked eye, vanishing from the quiet room in an instant, only to reappear in the same spot a moment later.

Throughout the process, not even a ripple disturbed the space.

"Such incredible speed!"

Joy surged in Qin Feng’s heart.

By his preliminary estimate, with the ten seals of the Black Sky Wings activated, his cruising speed in the vacuum of space could stably reach eight hundred times the speed of light!

A velocity that would leave countless peak Domain Lords trailing in his wake.

At last, there were no more shortcomings.

Qin Feng rose, pushed open the door, and transformed into an inconspicuous streak of light, soaring into the sky to depart the "Outpost" cosmic city, flying rapidly toward the final destination marked on his star map.

At the limit of eight hundred times the speed of light, the once-distant star path felt close at hand.

Several days later, a magnificent sight that defied all conventional cosmic understanding appeared at the edge of his vision.

The Isle of Dead Meteors.

It was not an island in the traditional sense, but a composition of countless super-continents, impossibly vast, suspended in the cosmic void.

Each continent was larger than a standard galaxy.

Upon them, mountain ranges coiled like dragons, rivers flowed like ribbons, and one could even see stars captured by their gravity, rotating slowly above like decorative lanterns.

There were ninety-three such continents in total.

The eighty-one on the periphery were known as the "Outer Isles," while the twelve in the core were the "Inner Isles."

Together, they formed a colossal, structurally complex super-celestial cluster.

Countless resplendent nebulae, like colorful silk ribbons, wound between these continents.

Fractured spatial rifts, like hideous scars upon the land, periodically exhaled devastating spatial storms.

This was the meat grinder—the Isle of Dead Meteors—where humanity and the myriad races had fought for countless ages, watering the soil with blood and bone.

At this moment, in the Outer Isle region, several massive light-vortices, resembling star gates, were rotating slowly.

These were the entrances and exits of the Isle of Dead Meteors.

Yet, chillingly, only the diverse warships and powerhouses of the myriad races were seen entering and exiting those vortices.

The exit belonging to the human side was deathly silent; not a single figure could be seen.

At the entrance, only the occasional lone wolf, resigned to death, would plunge inside, vanishing instantly like a drop of water into the sea.

In the outer star field of the Isle, a larger-scale standoff was unfolding in silence.

Tens of thousands of human warships formed a steel defense line, standing in opposition to the more numerous and ethnically complex Allied Fleet of the myriad races.

The vast vacuum between the two fleets was a forbidden zone of death.

Small-scale friction and conflicts erupted at every moment.

Patrol starships were reduced to brilliant fireworks in skirmishes; powerhouses at the black hole or even galactic level perished in duels.

The shadows of war hung heavy over this expanse of stars.

Qin Feng’s figure appeared quietly at the edge of the battlefield.

He retracted the Black Sky Wings, suppressing his aura to the absolute limit.

Taking one last look at the infiltration orders and intelligence sent personally by the Lord of Extremity on his wrist terminal, he chose not to alert the human garrison fighting for their lives ahead.

Like a phantom merging with the darkness, he bypassed the main battlefield in silence, sneaking toward one of the open Outer Isle entrances.