Chapter 330: Qin Feng Makes a Move! Astonishing Momentum! Executing the Evil Bone Marquis!

Chapter 330: Qin Feng Strikes! A Staggering Display of Power! Slaying the Bone-Evil Marquis!

Yaoguang Palace.

Once a sanctuary symbolizing the power, glory, and artistic zenith of the Linglu Universe Kingdom, it had now been reduced to a gilded cage.

The light curtain of the Nine-Turn Yaoguang Sealing Array, like a bowl of translucent glaze, inverted itself over the entire complex of palaces floating amidst the stars.

Across the barrier, arcane and intricate runes flowed languidly, refracting the cold starlight from without and exuding a deathly, silent beauty that severed all connection to the world.

It blocked any possibility of rescue and sealed away every hope of escape.

Inside the hall, the air was as viscous as congealed blood.

The toxic miasma left behind by the Linglu Sovereign’s total annihilation mingled with the cold sweat and pheromones of hundreds of dignitaries and powerhouses, driven to the brink of madness by terror, creating a cloying, pungent, and nauseating stench.

Yet, what truly gripped the souls of all present was the colossal shadow cast upon the dome and the floor of the hall.

The Bone-Evil Marquis.

His true form—a gargantuan centipede constructed from pure, deathly white bone—coiled silently in the void outside the palace, its massive bulk eclipsing the light of distant suns.

Tens of thousands of bony appendages, each like a razor-sharp war spear, shimmered with a chilling, necrotic luster. His head bowed slightly, and the pair of enormous compound eyes, stitched together from countless tiny mirrors, stared indifferently at the "prey" within the cage.

It was a gaze that transcended species, hierarchy, and dimensional power.

Every living soul present—be they a sovereign wielding national authority, a titan of the star-spanning merchant guilds, or a renowned Marquis-level powerhouse—felt, under that gaze, stripped of all status and dignity, reduced to the most primitive, lowly form of life: an ant.

Despair, like the crushing pressure of the deep sea, squeezed in from all sides, threatening to pulverize their bones, their wills, and even their very souls.

In this suffocating silence, a voice resonated without warning in the depths of every person’s soul.

"Gentlemen."

The voice was not thunderous, nor did it possess a crushing momentum; instead, it carried the texture of metal grinding against metal—cold, sharp, like a rusted blade scraping across the spirit.

It did not travel through the air, but originated directly from the fluctuations of the soul, leaving no room for resistance or evasion.

"I am in a fine mood today, and have no desire for further slaughter."

In the Bone-Evil Marquis’s massive compound eyes, a flicker of undisguised mockery danced.

He seemed to savor the scene, relishing the sight of these figures, usually so high and mighty, trembling before him.

"My wish is to spread the glory of my master, the Demon God."

His voice carried a seductive rhythm as he slowly elaborated, "We are not the savage butchers you imagine, drinking blood and eating raw flesh. We are the messengers of a new era, the evangelists bringing a new order and ultimate truth to this decaying universe."

This sentence caused the heartstrings of those in the hall, already stretched to their limit, to loosen by an imperceptible fraction.

Not here to slaughter?

Could it be... that there was a way to live?

This thought, like a glimmer of light in the darkness, instantly ignited the survival instinct in many. They suppressed their terror, pricking up their ears, afraid to miss a single word.

The Bone-Evil Marquis took in their reactions, the mockery in his eyes deepening.

He slowly laid out the terms of this so-called "contract."

"It is quite simple."

His voice slowed further, each word like a stone cast into a stagnant lake, clearly rippling outward.

"I do not want your lives; your lives are of no value to my master."

"Nor do I deign to claim your soul imprints; such crude methods of enslavement are no longer worthy of my master’s great divine name."

At these words, the atmosphere in the hall shifted abruptly.

Those who had already braced themselves for death, enslavement, or even being sacrificed on the spot, were stunned.

No lives? No soul imprints?

This... how could this be?

A top-tier intermediate Marquis of the Demon race, having gone to such lengths to set this trap, was he merely playing a joke on them?

Every mind present suffered a momentary crash, utterly unable to comprehend what was unfolding.

The Bone-Evil Marquis paused, as if waiting for them to digest this subversive opening, before calmly tossing out the true conditions.

"You need only swear a Great Dao oath that, upon returning to your respective universe kingdoms, you will immediately dismantle all existing totems of faith—whether it be the emblems of the Human Holy Academy or those long-decayed local deities—and purge them completely."

"Then, you shall erect statues to my master, the 'Ten-Thousand Bone Demon God.' I shall bestow the standard blueprints for the design and materials later. You must raise these statues in all important cities, plazas, and former temple sites within your domains."

"Finally, issue a decree: throughout the nation, all living beings must worship, piously and from the depths of their hearts, and chant my master’s divine name."

"You must make the holy name of the 'Ten-Thousand Bone Demon God' the sole, supreme faith within your kingdoms."

"Do this,"

The Bone-Evil Marquis’s voice carried a chilling hint of "benevolence," "and you may leave here, along with your retainers, safe and sound."

As the last word fell, the entire Yaoguang Palace descended into an unprecedented, absolute silence.

One could hear a pin drop.

No, it was as if time and space themselves had been frozen.

Everyone stared, their faces etched with disbelief.

Their minds raced, attempting to parse every word, every clause, and every hidden possibility behind this contract.

The anticipated torture did not come.

The anticipated enslavement did not occur.

The scene of being blood-sacrificed on the spot, transformed into offerings for a Demon God, did not even cast a shadow.

In its place was this... which sounded... almost absurd.

Merely spreading a faith?

A merchant guild president subconsciously twisted a spatial ring, his mind a blank slate.

He had spent his life dealing in interests, every transaction calculated with precision.

He had calculated the price he would pay to ransom himself if captured, and even how his family’s assets would be divided after his death.

But he had never calculated this.

In this "transaction," the other party seemed to demand no substantive "interest" at all.

A sovereign of a small nation subconsciously straightened his spine, which had been hunched in fear.

As a monarch, his greatest fear was the loss of power and life.

Yet, the other party’s conditions did not seem to touch his core interests.

What the populace believed in—did it matter to him?

It seemed... it did not.

As long as they continued to pay taxes and obey his rule, where their souls went, what did it have to do with him?

Seeds of doubt sprouted wildly in the deathly silence.

"This is a trap!"

An alarm blared in the mind of a Marquis-level powerhouse. "The Demon Race is cunning; this must be some malignant curse beyond our comprehension! Once an Oath of the Great Dao is sworn, an irreversible soul restriction will likely be planted upon us!"

"Perhaps worshiping that 'Demon God of Ten Thousand Bones' is itself a lethal poison. Once it begins to spread, the entire Universe Country will be transformed into a breeding ground for demons. We will ultimately become monarchs without a realm, ending up far worse than we are now!"

Another meticulous aristocrat broke out into a cold sweat across his forehead.

"Will he truly let us leave? Or will he turn upon us the moment we swear the oath, slaughtering every last one of us?"

Countless suspicions, fears, and doubts churned within everyone's heart. They were like a pack of cornered beasts trapped in a snare, facing a piece of seemingly untainted meat proffered by the hunter, none daring to be the first to step forward.

This deathly stillness persisted for a full minute.

Finally, the suffocating silence was broken by a faint, almost imperceptible cough.

Like a signal, that sound instantly ignited the long-suppressed murmurs.

At first, it was merely a few individuals exchanging soul transmissions in near-aspirated whispers, but soon, this communication rippled outward like a rising tide, setting the entire grand hall abuzz.

"Brother Wang, what is your view? What sort of game is this Marquis Evil Bone playing?"

The ruler of the Golden Stone Universe Country quietly sent a transmission to a friendly monarch beside him.

"Hard to say... But have you noticed that from beginning to end, he has never mentioned stripping us of our power and status, nor has he demanded our wealth?"

That Brother Wang’s eyes flickered, his voice carrying an elusive, subtle tremor.

"Exactly!"

The Lord of Golden Stone raised his voice a fraction. "Faith... faith is an ethereal, illusory thing. For cultivators like us, the Great Dao is a solitary pursuit, and power is the only true foundation.

As for those mortals... they believe in this today and that tomorrow; what difference does it make?"

On the other side, a fabulously wealthy chamber of commerce president was swiftly exchanging glances with several business partners.

"Gentlemen, this is a crisis, but perhaps... it is also an opportunity."

His voice was chillingly calm. "This Marquis Evil Bone represents a 'Demon God' we have never heard of. If we can become the first batch of 'meritorious ministers' to proactively align with him and spread his faith, then in the future..."

He trailed off, but his meaning was already self-evident.

Everyone present was an astute opportunist; they grasped his underlying implication in an instant. If this "Demon God of Ten Thousand Bones" truly possessed celestial power, then today’s submission might well be the tributary token required to climb to an even higher branch!

This highly seductive thought spread and fermented through the crowd like a virus.

"Indeed, faith is a commodity for commoners; what does it have to do with powerhouses like us?"

"As long as our ruling status remains unchanged, and as long as our resources are not plundered, what does it matter who they worship? Perhaps worshiping this Demon God will even spare us a great deal of trouble."

"Think carefully, for us, this seems to yield... no loss at all? We lose only the cheap faith of the commoners. Yet we gain our own precious lives, along with the continuation of our clans and kingdoms!"

"This transaction... is worth it! Absolutely worth it!"

The scales balancing pros and cons began to tilt drastically in the minds of these refined egoists.

The so-called righteousness of the race and the dignity of humanity appeared utterly pale and powerless in the face of mortal peril and the lure of self-interest.

They were accustomed to viewing billions of living souls merely as resources, figures, or even consumables under their rule.

Now, allowing them to barter the "popular faith"—something they could never truly control and never genuinely cared for—in exchange for their most precious lives and status was, in their eyes, undoubtedly a godsend, a once-in-a-lifetime bargain.

Once the first person rationalized this "logic," the collective psyche of the crowd began to collapse like an avalanche.

Upon their despairing faces, a glimmer of relief from surviving a catastrophe began to surface.

Beside their pale lips, an uncontrollable, secret smirk even began to hook upward.

The clenched fists of many had already loosened, and their rigid bodies relaxed.

The atmosphere within the grand hall shifted from the initial deathly despair into a bizarre, tacitly understood animation.

Some had already begun to lower their heads, calculating how to propagate the "Demon God Faith" with the greatest speed and on the largest scale upon their return, even pondering how to draft a soul-stirring "Demon God Canon" to claim credit and curry favor before this terrifying entity.

The chamber of commerce president who had first proposed the "opportunity theory" had already straightened his slightly disheveled robes, his face plastered with a humble and deferential smile, seemingly prepared to step forward as the first to represent everyone in expressing "sincerity" to Marquis Evil Bone.

Fawning sycophancy was already brewing in many a throat. A collective, shameless betrayal was about to be enacted.

Just as this nauseating atmosphere was about to reach its zenith—

"Silence!"

A furious roar, like a thunderbolt from the highest heavens, erupted without warning beside everyone's ears!

The voice was laden with boundless wrath and unyielding integrity, instantly piercing through all the filthy machinations and cowardly, secret delights within the hall.

The chamber of commerce president, who was just about to step forward to curry favor, felt his soul shudder from the roar, and the half-step he had taken froze rigidly in mid-air.

The gazes of everyone, in unison, followed the sound to look over.

Amidst the crowd, a single figure could be seen struggling, slowly standing up.

The one who stood was none other than the Lord of Scarlet Feather.

The luxurious ceremonial attire upon his body had become somewhat tattered during the chaos when the Grand Elder had struck earlier.

He had only recently advanced to the Marquis level, and his aura was still somewhat unstable and unrefined, far from reaching the harmonious realm of a veteran Marquis.

Yet at this moment, his form stood as straight as a javelin.

His martial countenance was flushed crimson with rage, and within his eyes, a raging inferno blazed.

That was not merely anger; it was the heartbreaking pain of being betrayed by his own kin, a sense of humiliation from seeing the dignity of a powerhouse trampled upon.

A sharp, matchless momentum unique to a newly ascended Marquis, blended with the unyielding pride belonging to a human powerhouse who would rather break than bend, surged into the heavens from his body, creating the sharpest, most glaring contrast with the sycophantic, cowardly atmosphere in the hall.

"As lords of your respective realms, enjoying the stipends of the state and holding the power of life and death over billions of souls, you actually choose to abet the wicked, bowing and scraping to invite a demon god into the territories of our human race!"

His voice was resonant and forceful, every word striking like a heavy hammer against the hearts of those who had been lowering their heads in calculation.

"You have utterly forgotten your ancestors; you are shameless to the extreme!"

The Lord of Scarlet Feather glared furiously at the massive, indifferent compound eyes above the dome, his eyes devoid of any fear, containing only a surging wrath and a resolute intent to battle.

"This place is the territory of the Human Sacred Academy! Marquis Evil Bone, by spreading the faith of a foreign god here and bewitching the feudal officials of humanity, your actions are tantamount to rebellion! What audacity!"

His words instantly froze the newly animated atmosphere within the hall once more.

The aristocrats who had been secretly smiling a moment ago now looked pale and ashen, feeling both the shame of having their true thoughts exposed and a deep resentment toward the Lord of Scarlet Feather for such an "unreasonable" act.

"Madman! If he wants to die, he shouldn't drag us down with him!"

Someone cursed silently in their heart.

Beyond the dome, the gargantuan head of Marquis Evil Bone lowered slightly.

His emotionless compound eyes finally focused upon the Lord of Scarlet Feather, this bird that had dared to stick its head out.

"Oh?"

The soul-voice of Marquis Evil Bone echoed once more, this time laced with a disdain and mockery so thick it could not be dissolved.

"A fledgling that has only just learned to fly, whose feathers are not even fully grown, dares to chirp before this Marquis?"

His voice was filled with contempt, as though he were looking at an ignorant child wielding a wooden sword before an adult giant.

"The Human Sacred Academy?"

Marquis Evil Bone let out a cackling laugh that sounded like bones grinding together. "Where are they now? In seclusion at the edge of which universe? Or are they entirely consumed by the internal strife of their race?"

"By the time your so-called protector arrives here, this place will have long become the first divine kingdom of my master, the 'Demon God of Ten Thousand Bones.' In the eyes of this Marquis, what difference is there between your meager cultivation and ridiculous dignity, and the shattered wine cups on the ground or the cold stellar dust outside this hall?"

Before the words had even faded, the killing intent arrived.

Evil-Bone Marquis did not even deign to move his colossal true form, nor did he lift a single jointed limb.

To him, snuffing out a newly ascended Marquis was as effortless as a human blowing away a speck of dust.

Behind his form, coiled amidst the stars, the Dao Seal representing the foundation of his path—a vast, endless mountain range of death constructed from the bones of billions—flickered with a faint light.

Within that seal, the laws of death were condensed to the point of extremity, as if it were a genuine kingdom of the dead.

Upon those mountains, every single bone had once belonged to a mighty warrior, radiating boundless resentment and necrotic aura.

Hum!

From the base of that mountain range, an unremarkable rib-shaped Dao mark detached itself from the tapestry of the seal.

The moment it broke free, it pierced the void, ignoring the spatial barriers of the Yaoguang Palace, and manifested directly above the vaulted ceiling.

With a flash of light, the mark expanded and solidified, transforming into a giant bone spear ten thousand feet long, piercing the very heavens!

The spear was deathly pale, inscribed with dense, divine scripts of mortality, its tip concentrated with the power of a death seal capable of extinguishing all vitality.

The moment it appeared, the temperature within the palace plummeted to freezing, and all light seemed to be swallowed by its presence.

This was no physical attack; it was a pure, unreasonable, and absolute suppression at the level of law!

Boom!

The giant bone spear gave the Red-Feather Sovereign no time to react, crashing down with a shriek that tore the firmament asunder!

"Well struck!"

Facing this world-shattering blow, the Red-Feather Sovereign did not retreat.

His eyes burned with the apex of battle intent as he let out a heaven-shaking roar.

Chirp!

A piercing, resonant phoenix cry echoed through the hall!

The Red-Feather Sovereign unleashed his Dao Seal without reservation; a massive phantom of a phoenix, wreathed in raging crimson flames, erupted from behind him, its wings spreading to blot out the sky.

It was the manifestation of his Great Dao, the quintessence of all his cultivation.

The phoenix phantom raised its head and launched a desperate charge against the bone spear, attempting to repel that lethal chill with its own inextinguishable fire.

Yet, the strength of a newly ascended Marquis was as fragile as paper before a veteran middle-tier Marquis who had carved his path through millions of years of blood-soaked warfare.

The pale bone spear, with an absolute and unrivaled posture, easily pierced the skull of the crimson phoenix phantom.

The phoenix’s mournful cry lasted only half a second before its burning body, under the weight of the death seal, crumbled inch by inch into scattered sparks, eventually extinguishing entirely.

The spear’s momentum did not wane in the slightest, slamming heavily into the chest of the Red-Feather Sovereign.

Puff!

A dull thud sounded.

The protective divine light surrounding the Red-Feather Sovereign, forged from his Marquis-level power, shattered instantly like foam under the sun.

He was struck as if by a star colliding at high velocity; his formidable Marquis-grade body was reduced to the state of a discarded ragdoll.

He flew backward, smashing through seven or eight massive pillars cast from "Yaoguang Glazed Gold," each carved with dragons and phoenixes.

Those pillars, as hard as materials used for King-tier weapons, burst like rotten wood under the force of his impact.

Finally, with a thunderous crash, he slammed into the deepest wall of the hall.

The indestructible wall was forced into a human-shaped crater several meters deep.

Debris rained down.

The Red-Feather Sovereign slid to the floor, blood gushing from his mouth like a fountain, staining the ground a jarring crimson.

In a single instant, his aura plummeted from that of a spirited Marquis to the very brink of death.

Had his vitality not far exceeded that of his peers, this strike alone would have obliterated his soul, sending him to follow the fate of the Spirit-Deer Sovereign.

The hall fell into a deathly silence.

The entire Yaoguang Palace was plunged into a stillness even more profound and absolute than before.

If the previous silence had been laced with suspicion, luck, and calculation, this silence was now a numbness where even despair could not find a voice, all will having been utterly crushed.

One strike!

It took only a single strike!

A newly ascended Marquis, a combatant standing at the pinnacle of the hundreds of surrounding universe nations, a being looked up to by countless lives, had been casually beaten to the verge of death!

The terror of Evil-Bone Marquis was no longer a legend or a title; it was now a permanent, indelible brand, carved into the depths of every soul present in the most intuitive, brutal, and irrefutable way.

Those nobles who had still harbored thoughts of "opportunism" or "bargaining" now felt a chill surge from their tailbones to their crowns, as if their blood had frozen solid.

They looked at the Red-Feather Sovereign lying in a pool of blood, his fate unknown, and then at the giant compound eyes watching everything from beyond the dome; the last shred of their luck and dignity was ground into dust.

...

A single blow to suppress a Marquis.

This strength weighed upon the hearts of every guest like an invisible mountain, crushing the last remnants of their hope and defiance.

"Hmph, so much useless chatter!"

The voice of Evil-Bone Marquis, sounding like the grinding of billions of dry bones, echoed through the hall, every syllable piercing the soul with bone-chilling cold.

His thousands of crimson compound eyes, like miniature blood-red vortices, scanned the "ants" below who were trembling in silence, savoring the souls shivering in fear.

The sovereigns and merchant magnates who had been hesitating and calculating now lowered their proud heads, their bodies trembling with uncontrollable terror.

Looking at the wretched state of the Red-Feather Sovereign and then at the towering demon, they finally understood the chasm-like gap in their strength.

Resistance?

With what could they resist?

With bodies as fragile as paper before a Marquis? Or with political schemes and wealth that meant nothing in the face of absolute power?

"We... we are willing!"

"We await your command, Lord Evil-Bone Marquis!"

"The Demon God is supreme; we are willing to spread your teachings, build your shrines, and guide the faith of all people!"

After the brief silence came a wave of submission, loud as a crashing sea.

Nobles who usually held the power of life and death over billions scrambled to kneel, expressing their obedience in the most humble posture.

They dared not hesitate, fearing that the next to be crushed into pulp by the bone seal would be themselves.

As for the dignity of the human race or the faith of their subjects, what did those matter in the face of their own survival?

They were long accustomed to treating the lives of trillions as pawns on a chessboard; to offer them as sacrifices to a demon to save their own skins was a burden they felt no qualms in bearing.

Evil-Bone Marquis seemed quite satisfied, a low, rumbling laugh like distant thunder emerging from his hideous mouthparts.

This was exactly the effect he desired.

Slaughter was merely a tool; what he truly relished was the supreme pleasure of trampling the dignity of the mighty and toying with the fates of all living things.

Yet, amidst this nauseating chorus of sycophancy and submission, just as everyone believed the matter settled and that no one dared to stand in the way of the juggernaut, another figure slowly emerged from the crowd.

It was not the fierce or violent display one might have imagined; his gait was steady and powerful, each step seemingly calculated with mathematical precision.

He wore a robe of deep obsidian, his features gaunt and refined, his eyes profound—he was the sovereign of the Qiantian Universe, the only other recognized titan in this star sector besides the mysterious Lord of the Heavenly Profound Kingdom.

He did not fly into a rage like the Sovereign of Red Feather, nor did he grovel like the other dignitaries.

Though his face was etched with gravity, a trace of inexplicable composure remained in the depths of his eyes.

Under the gaze of all present, the Qiantian Sovereign walked to the center of the hall and bowed respectfully to the colossal, monstrous form of the Evil Bone Marquis above.

His posture was humble, yet devoid of servility; it was the most appropriate etiquette a junior could offer when facing an insurmountable senior.

"Lord Evil Bone Marquis, your divine might is peerless; we are humbled and convinced."

The Qiantian Sovereign spoke, his voice not loud but exceptionally steady, carrying clearly to the ears of every living soul, instantly silencing the chaotic murmurs of the hall.

The Evil Bone Marquis’s hundreds of crimson compound eyes shifted slightly, landing on the Qiantian Sovereign with keen interest, as if curious to see what tricks this ant who refused to kneel might have up its sleeve.

The Qiantian Sovereign continued, neither humble nor arrogant: "Your desire to spread the faith of the Demon God is a supreme undertaking. Living under your divine shadow, we shall naturally comply and dare not defy you."

At these words, many guests nearby wore expressions of confusion.

Could this Qiantian Sovereign also be choosing to submit?

Yet, his demeanor suggested otherwise.

Indeed, the Qiantian Sovereign shifted his tone, his voice carrying a sincerity that seemed perfectly tailored to show concern for the other party: "However..."

He paused, as if organizing his thoughts, though in truth, he was casting a swift glance from the corner of his eye toward the black-clad youth on the main throne, who had remained motionless from the start.

"However, this place is, after all, the first half of the 'Holy Academy Sea' within the territory of the Human Holy Academy; in name, it remains the heartland of humanity."

"If small border kingdoms like ours were to close our doors and quietly erect a few statues, perhaps it would be of little consequence, and the Holy Academy might not take notice."

"But if, as you say, we are to conduct a nationwide ritual and channel the faith of billions, such a massive disturbance would surely trigger the Holy Academy’s surveillance arrays immediately."

"At that point, it would draw the attention of the Supreme Overlord."

Having reached this point, the Qiantian Sovereign’s tone grew even more "sincere," tinged with a perfectly measured "trepidation": "My Lord, it matters little if small figures like us perish, but if this were to delay the descent of the Demon God’s grace or ruin your grand ambition, then we... we would truly be guilty of a crime for which ten thousand deaths would not suffice!"

His words were airtight, reasonable, and logical.

On the surface, he was expressing submission, offering counsel to avoid risks for the Evil Bone Marquis’s "grand ambition."

But his underlying motive was venomous.

He was probing!

He was using the two great mountains of the "Human Holy Academy" and the "Supreme Overlord" to test the Evil Bone Marquis’s confidence and background!

A mid-level Marquis who dared to act so recklessly in the human heartland could not possibly do so without backing.

The Qiantian Sovereign intended to judge the extent of that backing by the other’s reaction.

If the Evil Bone Marquis showed hesitation, it meant there was room to maneuver;

If he remained arrogant, it meant his backing was sufficient to ignore the conventional deterrence of the Holy Academy.

More importantly, he was stalling for time!

From the moment the Evil Bone Marquis descended until now, it seemed like a long time had passed, but in reality, it was only a fleeting moment.

The situation was volatile; every second gained might bring a new variable.

And the greatest variable was undoubtedly the "Fierce God" Qin Feng, who sat on the main throne, unmoved from the beginning.

The Qiantian Sovereign’s mind was currently engaged in an incredibly complex gamble.

He could not read Qin Feng—not at all.

This legendary "Fierce God," facing a killing trap that would drive any Marquis to despair, could sit calmly and sip wine, as if everything happening before him were a play unrelated to his existence.

Such behavior suggested only two possibilities.

Either the man was arrogant to the point of madness, unaware of what the Evil Bone Marquis represented—a near-impossible scenario, given that Qin Feng was a god of slaughter forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Or, he possessed a terrifying, unimaginable trump card capable of crushing everything!

The Qiantian Sovereign believed in the latter.

Therefore, his task was to stall for time by any means necessary, creating an opportunity for this "Fierce God" to observe and plan.

Every word he spoke now was meant to buy time for Qin Feng, while simultaneously sending a message: I am still resisting.

"Ha... Hahahahahaha!"

A burst of laughter, sharper and more piercing than before, erupted like countless glass shards scraping against everyone’s eardrums.

The Evil Bone Marquis’s massive bone-centipede body trembled violently, and a pressure even more terrifying and dense than before descended like a bursting black river!

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

Within the Yao-Guang Hall, the weaker galaxy-level guests, under this sudden surge of pressure, were crushed into pulp before they could even groan, their souls extinguished!

The Qiantian Sovereign bore the brunt of it, feeling as if billions of stars were crashing down upon his Dao foundation simultaneously. His protective divine light flickered unsteadily, and his legs went weak, nearly forcing him to his knees.

He exerted every ounce of his cultivation to stabilize himself, but his face had turned deathly pale, and a trickle of golden blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"You old fool, you are indeed a bit smarter than that reckless fire-bird from before."

The Evil Bone Marquis’s laughter ceased abruptly, his tone filled with condescending disdain. "However, your vision is limited to this! An ant rolling in the mud, how could it ever fathom the ambitions of a dragon!"

"The Holy Academy? The Supreme Overlord?"

The Evil Bone Marquis seemed to have heard the greatest joke in existence. "Do you think I dare act here without reason? Do you think I am the only one orchestrating all of this?"

He raised his massive head slightly, his hundreds of compound eyes reflecting a near-manic fervor and ambition.

"I might as well tell you the truth! Once this is complete, and the faith of seven hundred universe kingdoms is gathered, my Lord, the Demon God, will personally descend with supreme grace to help me break the shackles of my bloodline and shatter the barriers of my realm!"

"At that moment, I shall ascend to the heavens and promote... to a King!"

BOOM!!!

The word "King," like two invisible hammers imbued with the power of cosmic creation and destruction, struck the deepest depths of everyone’s souls, shattering the last remnants of their luck, hope, and fantasy!

Between a Marquis and a King, though separated by only a single word, lay an abyss of difference.

A Marquis, while powerful, was still just one among many in the vast universe.

But a King was a true cosmic titan, capable of carving out a holy land, establishing an immortal legacy, and wielding power such that a single thought could annihilate a galaxy!

A top-tier mid-level Marquis had already brought them to the brink of doom.

If he were to ascend to the rank of King...

If that was not despair, what was?

It would be a true natural disaster!

An endless nightmare sweeping through thousands of surrounding universe kingdoms!

At that point, all of them, along with their kingdoms and their people, would become nothing more than blood-fodder and slaves, waiting to be consumed at the whim of this new Demon King!

"When... when that time comes," the Evil Bone Marquis’s voice grew distorted with extreme excitement, "the entire first half of the Holy Academy Sea, these thousands of universe kingdoms, shall become my hunting grounds! All of you shall become the livestock I keep! Hahahaha!"

Wild laughter once again reverberated through the Yaoguang Hall.

But this time, no one found it grating.

For every soul present had been swallowed by the boundless darkness and terror brought forth by those two words; their thoughts had stalled, their spirits trembled, and the world had lost all color, leaving only the gray decay of despair.

It is over.

Everything is over.

The gravely wounded Sovereign of the Red Feather Kingdom revealed endless sorrow in his eyes.

He did not grieve for himself, but for the Red Feather Universe, for all his human kin across this star field.

The Great Elder and the creature in the bronze mask wore hideous, triumphant smiles in the shadows.

This absolute despair was exactly what they desired!

Only in the deepest abyss of hopelessness could the most beautiful flower of destruction bloom!

Just as the laughter of Marquis Evil-Bone reached its most arrogant and triumphant peak.

Just as the minds of the tens of thousands of guests were utterly seized by fear, at the very moment of their deepest despair.

In this space ruled by death and dread, a voice, calm to the point of indifference, rang out without warning.

The voice was not loud, perhaps even faint, yet it pierced the suffocating atmosphere woven of fear like a red-hot iron needle.

"Is that so?"

Two words, clearly transmitted into the ears of every living soul.

The wild laughter came to an abrupt halt.

Every being, whether a despairing guest, a triumphant traitor, or even the insufferable Marquis Evil-Bone, froze as if struck by a binding spell.

The crowd turned to look toward the source of the sound.

There, upon the most prestigious yet overlooked seat of honor.

The young man in black, who from the beginning—through the opening of the ceremony, the sudden death of the Sovereign, the bloodshed of the investiture, and the arrival of the trap—had remained quietly drinking, slowly set down his white jade wine cup.

The base of the cup met the table without a single sound, as if it had landed upon a void.

Then, under the gaze of tens of thousands of eyes filled with shock, confusion, bewilderment, and pity, he stood up.

Qin Feng took a step forward.

The step was light, yet it felt as if he had trodden upon the very pulse of the universe.

In an instant, a terrifying aura, impossible to describe or define with words, silently permeated from his seemingly slender frame.

This aura was neither violent nor scorching.

It possessed no light, no heat, no sound, and no form.

It was like the primordial chaos before the birth of the universe, the ultimate nothingness after all things have returned to silence.

The moment this aura appeared, the entire space sealed by the Nine-Bend Yaoguang Investiture Array began to emit faint, strained cracking sounds.

The fierce and tyrannical pressure of Marquis Evil-Bone, which had permeated the air, dissolved, disintegrated, and retreated before this aura, like snow under the spring sun.