Chapter 390: Heavenly River Weak Water, Pursued and Killed by the Evil God!

Chapter 390: The River of Weak Water, the Evil God's Pursuit!

The forty-fifth trial: the River of Weak Water.

This black river, stretching across the heavens and earth, is not composed of ordinary water, but of a cosmic anomaly known as "Guixu Heavy Water."

Each drop weighs as much as a star, capable of dissolving fundamental laws and corroding the divine soul; thus, it is said that "no bird can fly across, and no god or demon can traverse it."

At this moment, this deathly silent river is boiling.

Gu Man, or rather, the Fallen Titan that Gu Man once was, stands upon the churning surface.

The weak water beneath his feet seems to have gained life, transforming into countless obsidian tentacles that cradle his body—a form grotesquely twisted by the power of an Evil God.

He has just crushed the reward for this trial: the "Essence of Weak Water," a primordial treasure that takes eons to gestate within the river, a prize of incalculable value.

He pulverized it right before Qin Feng’s eyes, declaring his intent in the most direct manner: he is not here for treasure, but for slaughter.

"A game? An execution?"

Gu Man’s face, riddled with bone spurs and demonic sigils, twisted into a hideous grin. His voice sounded like two rusted pieces of metal grinding together: "Human, your arrogance is as laughable as your pathetic level of cultivation."

Boom!

Without further ado, he unleashed the pressure of a "Blood-Fiend Saint" without reservation.

It was not the pressure of an ordinary saint, which resonates with the laws of heaven and earth, but a purer, more profane "domain." Centered on him, the space for ten thousand miles was instantly stained a dark, bruised red. The air grew viscous, thick with the stench of rust and sulfur. Within this domain, all laws were forcibly twisted, repurposed as tools for the singular concept of "slaughter."

Nearby, Caesar found it difficult even to stand under this pressure. His soul wailed, as if it might be dragged into an endless sea of blood and hell by this foul force at any moment. He was forced to retreat frantically, his eyes filled with terror.

This is the Saint Realm.

Even the lowest-tier Pseudo-Saint possesses a life level that completely transcends the Sovereign rank.

Yet, Qin Feng, standing at the very center of this pressure, did not even have a corner of his robe flutter.

A thin, dark-gold halo spontaneously formed around him—the instinctive reaction of the [Hunyuan Ultimate Body]. Gu Man’s Saint Domain, capable of crushing an ordinary peak Sovereign, struck this halo like waves crashing against an eternal reef; beyond splashing a few meaningless bloody bubbles, it could not advance an inch.

"Is this your 'Saint Realm'?"

Qin Feng’s tone carried a hint of purely academic curiosity.

"What you call a 'domain' is not your own enlightenment, but 'privileges' granted by the Evil God. You are merely a puppet administrator of this blood-stained space, not its true master. Your foundation is hollow, your laws are chaotic, and your flaws are everywhere."

With every word Qin Feng spoke, the madness on Gu Man’s face intensified.

Because everything Qin Feng said was true.

He could feel that the overwhelming power surging within him was not entirely under his control. While it granted him strength, it was simultaneously devouring his life essence and his sanity.

"Shut up! Shut up!!"

Stung by the truth, Gu Man let out a heaven-shaking roar. He no longer attempted to suppress Qin Feng with pressure, for it was meaningless.

He moved.

There was no refined technique, only the most primitive, savage charge.

The River of Weak Water beneath him exploded. Billions of tons of water were heaved up by his terrifying strength, transforming into a black tsunami that spanned the horizon, crashing down upon Qin Feng.

This was not merely a physical attack; every drop of weak water was infused with his profane Saint-level blood-fiend power, enough to instantly corrode an entire cosmic nation into nothingness.

Facing this world-destroying blow, Qin Feng merely raised his spear slowly.

"Then, let me see exactly how much substance your borrowed power truly holds."

Qin Feng did not choose to meet it head-on.

His figure vanished a split second before the tsunami descended, and the next moment, he appeared behind Gu Man. The newly forged spear struck out like a black bolt of lightning, silently piercing toward Gu Man’s heart.

This strike invoked no celestial phenomena; all power was perfectly compressed into the dark gold point of the spearhead.

However, just as the tip was about to touch Gu Man’s skin—

"Roar!"

As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Gu Man spun violently, catching the spear shaft with a giant palm covered in bone armor.

Screech—

A teeth-grinding friction rang out.

The spear, infused with "Source-Quality Divine Iron," was peerlessly sharp, instantly tearing through the bone armor on Gu Man’s palm, but it was held fast by that brute, overwhelming force, unable to advance a fraction further.

"Got you, insect!"

Gu Man sneered, his other hand clenching into a fist. Atop his knuckles, a crimson vortex composed of pure slaughter laws spun madly, carrying the power to shatter stars as it hammered toward Qin Feng’s skull.

Qin Feng’s eyes narrowed. He abandoned the spear and met the blow with his own left fist.

[Hunyuan Ultimate Body] versus [Blood-Fiend Saint Body].

The pinnacle of Sovereignty versus the realm of the Pseudo-Saint.

Boom!!!!

Two fists of vastly disproportionate size collided, erupting in an energy storm that far surpassed any previous clash.

The sky of the forty-fifth trial was torn open by the force of the punch, revealing the gray, turbid chaotic currents of the Endless Sea beyond.

Watching from afar, Caesar felt his heart nearly stop.

A direct collision? Qin Feng actually chose to trade blows with a Fallen Titan Saint known for his raw power?

The result of the impact was Qin Feng flying backward, carving a long trajectory through the air before landing steadily atop a mountain peak thousands of kilometers away. The mountain beneath his feet turned into powder the moment he landed.

As for Gu Man, he only took half a step back.

The disparity was clear.

"Hahahaha!" Gu Man felt the residual shockwave on his fist and let out a manic laugh. "Do you see, Qin Feng? This is the gap between the Saint and the mortal! No matter how strong your body is, it is merely an accumulation of 'quantity'! What I possess is the crushing weight of 'quality'!"

He was right.

Although Qin Feng’s [Hunyuan Ultimate Body] was flawless in defense, in terms of pure power output, he was ultimately a fraction behind someone who had completed a life-level transition and could command an entire chain of twisted laws.

"Again!"

Having tasted blood, Gu Man launched another charge.

This time, his speed was greater, his force more savage. Every punch he threw, every step he took, left dark red "scars" in space—the marks of permanent corrosion from his blood-fiend saint power.

Qin Feng no longer met him head-on, instead utilizing his footwork to maneuver around him.

For a time, the entire forty-fifth trial became a battlefield for two monsters.

A blood-red figure, like a destructive meteor, chased and ravaged, tearing the earth asunder and evaporating the rivers.

A black figure, like a phantom, wove through the storm of destruction, every dodge perfectly timed, every counter-attack landing precisely on the weak points of his opponent’s power.

The battle lasted for a full hour.

Qin Feng remained unscathed, though his aura had become slightly, imperceptibly disordered.

Gu Man, however, despite appearing to hold the absolute upper hand, saw the bone spurs on his body dimming at a visible rate, and the black blood flowing from him began to emit the stench of rot.

His power was consuming his life.

"How much longer will you hide!" Gu Man finally lost his patience. He stopped in his tracks and plunged both hands deep into his own chest.

Amidst a scalp-tingling sound of tearing flesh, he wrenched from his own spine a colossal blood-red axe, forged from bone and the power of an evil god.

"This is the ultimate weapon I obtained by sacrificing the bloodline of the Titan race!"

"Blessing of the Evil God: The Slash of Khorne!"

Gu Man hoisted the great axe high, and the blood-evil aura of the entire forty-fifth level surged frantically toward the blade.

The sky was rent asunder, and the Weak Water flowed in reverse.

A blood-red axe shadow spanning the horizon locked onto Qin Feng, descending with a terrifying will to sever causality and extinguish all life.

Under this strike, space, time, and law—all lost their meaning.

There was no escaping it.

Facing this lethal blow, there was no fear or gravity in Qin Feng’s eyes, only an unprecedented calm.

All his focus shifted from the external battle to the "world" within.

Deep inside him, the "Primordial Singularity" was rotating slowly.

Over the past hundreds of thousands of years, he had devoured the law-bones of a million powerhouses and smelted the Myriad Law Furnace of the second level; his foundation had grown to an unfathomable depth.

Yet, he had never attained sainthood.

Because he lacked a "catalyst."

A catalyst to condense these countless disparate "laws" into a "Holy Path" uniquely his own.

And now, this axe from Gu Man was that catalyst.

Within this strike lay the purest, most primitive "slaughter" Holy Path. Though corrupted beyond recognition by the evil god’s power, its essence remained a manifestation of the universe’s supreme rules.

"So that is how it is..."

In what appeared to the outside world as less than a ten-thousandth of a second, Qin Feng’s thoughts moved faster than lightning.

"My path is the Path of the Limit."

"The limit is not mere accumulation of power, nor is it indestructible defense."

"The limit is the 'exhaustion' and 'unification' of all laws!"

"I do not need to be like Gu Man, discarding everything to trade for the authority of a single law."

"Everything I have accumulated is, in itself... a Holy Path that no one has ever walked before, and none shall walk after!"

At the very moment the blood-red axe was about to touch his brow.

Qin Feng closed his eyes.

The "Primordial Singularity" within him ceased its rotation.

Then, it began to collapse inward.

Not an explosion, not a release.

It was extreme compression, infinite introspection.

Outside, the blood-red axe shadow, capable of cleaving galaxies, stalled eerily three inches above Qin Feng’s head.

It was not blocked; rather, the "Law of Slaughter" it relied upon was forcibly "stripped away" by a higher-dimensional force.

The savage grin on Gu Man’s face froze, replaced by an incomprehensible terror born from the depths of his soul.

He saw Qin Feng’s body becoming "transparent."

This transparency was not a physical disappearance, but a conceptual "zeroing out."

It was as if he were being erased from the "existence" registry of this universe.

Boom—!

A muffled sound echoed, not from the outside, but from the deepest recesses of everyone’s soul.

It was the sound of the barrier to the Saint Realm shattering.

Qin Feng had broken through.

No auspicious clouds, no golden light, no celebration of heaven and earth.

There was only absolute silence.

With him as the center, all light, all sound, and all energy were frantically sucked into his collapsing "Primordial Singularity."

He had become the embodiment of "Nothingness."

When he opened his eyes again, they were no longer black, but a deep chaos that seemed to encompass the birth and death of the entire universe.

He looked up at the blood-red axe still suspended above him, and at Gu Man, who stood behind it in horror.

He slowly raised his right hand and extended a single finger.

"How... is this possible..."

Gu Man’s voice trembled; he could feel his connection to the evil god being forcibly severed by an invisible force. His pride, his Saint-level power, was rapidly draining away.

No, not draining.

It was being "analyzed," "decomposed," and reduced to the most primitive fragments of law.

He looked at Qin Feng as if seeing the embodiment of the universe’s will, the rules themselves.

In Qin Feng’s chaotic eyes, the world Gu Man saw had changed entirely.

He no longer saw flesh and blood, but chains of laws bound together by filthy power, riddled with logical errors. He could even clearly see every detail of the "contract" Gu Man’s soul had signed with the evil god.

"Is this all you have?"

Qin Feng’s voice resonated again, but this time, it seemed to come from all directions, from every dimension, echoing directly within Gu Man’s soul.

"Then, it is over."

A point of light ignited at Qin Feng’s fingertip.

It was not gold, nor dark gold, but a pure "Light of Concept" that defied description.

It was the [Limit Divine Light], perfected after his ascension to the Saint Realm.

"No—!!!"

Gu Man sensed a fatal threat; he let out a non-human roar, drained the last drop of the evil god’s power, and drove the blood-red axe down with savage force!

He would drag Qin Feng down with him!

Yet, the moment the axe shadow moved.

The point of light at Qin Feng’s fingertip tapped forward gently.

No sound.

No explosion.

No shockwave.

The "Slash of Khorne," which Gu Man viewed as his final trump card, that blood-red axe shadow spanning the heavens, dissolved silently the moment it touched that light, like snow under the sun.

From the blade, to the shaft, and finally to Gu Man himself, who clutched the handle.

A phenomenon of "erasure" was spreading at a speed that transcended light and causality.

"This... what... what kind of power is this..."

The terror on Gu Man's face froze in that singular moment for eternity. His body was disintegrating—not into flesh and blood, but into the most microscopic particles of law, before returning entirely to nothingness.

He could not even feel pain.

For the very concept of "pain" was being erased along with him.

In the final instant before his consciousness vanished, he finally grasped the meaning of Qin Feng’s earlier words.

Riddled with flaws.

Before an existence like Qin Feng, who could directly perceive and rewrite the underlying rules of reality, his borrowed, patchwork Saint-level power was like a castle of sand, collapsing at the slightest touch.

One second.

A mere second.

The once invincible Fallen Titan Saint—Gu Man, who had even briefly surpassed Qin Feng on the rankings—was thus completely and cleanly wiped from this universe.

Not a single trace remained.

It was as if he had never existed at all.

This was Qin Feng’s Saint Realm.

This was the true power of the Ultimate Divine Light—it was no longer destruction, but definition.

I define you as "non-existent," and so you cease to be.

Qin Feng slowly withdrew his finger, sensing the vast, harmonious, and self-contained power within him, and whispered four words:

"The Saint Realm is achieved."

The River of Weak Water returned to tranquility.

The hole in the sky slowly mended under the repair of the cosmic will.

It was as if the earth-shattering Saint-level battle had been nothing more than a hallucination.

Qin Feng hovered in the air, his gaze falling upon the spot where Gu Man had just vanished.

There, a primitive ring floated silently.

It was the only thing not erased by the Ultimate Divine Light. Not because it was sufficiently durable, but because the spatial laws within it had been forcibly shielded at the last moment by Gu Man’s suicidal will.

Qin Feng reached out, and the storage ring fell into his palm.

His Saint-level divine sense instantly invaded, wiping away the lingering will within.

The space inside the ring was vast, and the mountains of resources piled within made even Qin Feng raise an eyebrow.

Inside were not only all the possessions of Gu Man as a Titan God-son, but more importantly, the full rewards for clearing all seven stages from the thirty-eighth to the forty-fourth.

"Star Soul Marrow," "Heart of the Storm," "Core of the Thousand-Machine Puppet"...

These were supreme treasures that would drive even the most powerful Emperors of the outside world to slaughter one another; now, they were all Qin Feng’s spoils of war.

"Not a loss, after all."

Qin Feng nodded in satisfaction and slipped the ring onto his finger.

However, the moment he put it on, a sudden change occurred!

On the ring, Gu Man’s erased mark of will unexpectedly resurfaced, twisting into a hideous, venomous face.

"Qin Feng! Do you think you have won?!"

"If I am to die, you shall not have an easy life either!"

"This is a 'gift' I exchanged with the great Lord Khorne by sacrificing my final soul!"

"Enjoy it! Enjoy this endless hunt! Enjoy the glory of being the public enemy of the entire universe! Hahahaha—!"

Accompanied by frantic laughter, the face exploded.

An indescribable, intensely evil blood-red ripple erupted from the ring as its center.

This ripple possessed no offensive power, but it held a terrifying, piercing quality. It ignored the spatial barriers of the Seventy-Two Divine Stages, ignored the chaotic isolation of the Endless Sea, and spread across the entire universe at a speed that transcended dimensions.

At the same time, Qin Feng felt as if an invisible brand had been seared onto his brow.

It was a coordinate.

A blood-drenched, eternal coordinate written in the laws of an Evil God.

[Khorne’s Blood Sacrifice Beacon]

Any creature that worshipped Khorne, any powerhouse with a thirst for slaughter and blood, could clearly sense the existence of this coordinate from any corner of the universe.

It was declaring to the entire cosmos:

Here lies a "mobile treasury" that has just slain a Saint.

Kill him, and you shall gain the favor of the Evil God; you shall gain everything he possesses.

"Damn it!"

Caesar’s face changed drastically in the distance. "This is an Evil God’s causal curse! He has broadcast your location to every lunatic in the universe!"

Qin Feng looked up; his Saint-level divine sense could already clearly perceive that from all directions of the Endless Sea, and from the deeper reaches of the distant universe, pairs of greedy, insane, bloodthirsty eyes had locked onto him.

A cold message simultaneously appeared in his mind.

[Beacon duration: Ten thousand years.]

This meant that for the next ten thousand years, he would know no peace.

He would become a mobile lighthouse, attracting the sharks of the entire universe to come and feast upon him.

Gu Man had used his own death to set a lethal trap for Qin Feng.

...

The moment [Khorne’s Blood Sacrifice Beacon] was branded onto Qin Feng’s soul, the entire Endless Sea seemed to come alive.

Deep within the distant turbulence of time and space, a star-beast that had slumbered for a million years suddenly opened its scarlet eyes; in a dead meteorite belt, an old-school Saint in deep meditation shuddered, greedily sniffing the seductive "aura of treasure" emanating from the coordinate; even in other regions of the Seventy-Two Divine Stages, the prodigies who had been chasing Qin Feng stopped in their tracks, looking toward the forty-fifth stage with suspicion and unease.

There, a scarlet star of coordinates was rising in their perception, as brilliant as a lighthouse in the dead of night. "Go!"

Qin Feng’s voice held no hesitation, sharp as a sword drawn from its sheath. He barked at Caesar: "We must separate. This beacon is locked onto me, it has nothing to do with you. If you follow me, you will only find death."

Caesar’s face turned ghastly pale; he understood this truth, of course. But he gritted his teeth and said in a low voice: "Then what about you? This is the malice of the entire universe! You have just ascended to Sainthood, your foundation is not yet stable, how could you possibly..."

"My affairs are none of your concern." Qin Feng interrupted him, his tone brooking no argument. He was not negotiating; he was issuing an order. "Your task now is to survive. Survive with the truth of the 'corruption' you have witnessed; if you die here, then everything that came before will have been meaningless."

With that, Qin Feng pushed back with his hand, and a gentle yet irresistible Saint-level force enveloped Caesar, thrusting him toward the return passage leading to the forty-fourth stage.

"Qin Feng!" Caesar only had time to cry out his name at the final moment before the spatial passage closed.

Qin Feng did not look back.

For in the second after Caesar vanished, the spatial barrier above him was brutally torn open by a savage force.

Three figures stepped out from the rift.

They were not of the human race, but the Void-kin, a predatory species notorious throughout the Endless Sea.

The forms of these three beings flickered between substance and energy, wreathed in grey storms capable of rending space itself; each emanated an aura that stood firmly upon the threshold of the Saint realm.

The leader of the trio, its compound eyes shimmering with avarice, fixed its gaze upon Qin Feng and projected a harsh, grating psychic wave: "A fresh Saint... the scent of the treasures you carry is truly intoxicating. Surrender the Primordial Divine Iron and that Titan’s storage ring, and we may leave your corpse intact."

They were the first to arrive.

Less than ten breaths had passed since the death of Gu Man.

Qin Feng watched them, his chaotic eyes—newly transformed by his ascension to Sainthood—remaining utterly devoid of ripples.

He merely raised his long spear with deliberate slowness.

"You want them?"

"Then come and take them with your lives."

Before the words had fully faded, Qin Feng vanished from where he stood. He chose not to engage in battle, instead transforming into a streak of light that plunged headlong into the vast, lawless, chaotic expanse of the Endless Sea.

He had to leave the Seventy-Two Divine Passes.

Though the Passes were perilous, they were anchored by nodes that made him easy to corner. Only by entering the true chaos of the Endless Sea could he find the room to maneuver.

"Pursue!"

The three Void-kin hissed in excitement, transforming into three bolts of grey lightning as they gave chase.

A hunt that would sweep across the entire universe, spanning ten thousand years, had begun.

Only after leaving the perimeter of the Seventy-Two Divine Passes did Qin Feng truly grasp the terror of the Endless Sea.

Here, there was no concept of up or down, nor of the passage of time. Everywhere lay the wreckage of shattered cosmic planes, spacetime storms that could erupt at any moment, and ancient entities lurking in the dark that even Saints dared not provoke.

Yet, for the moment, these environmental hazards became Qin Feng’s only sanctuary.

The Blood Sacrifice Beacon of Khorne clung to him like a festering sore; no matter how deep his spatial jumps, no matter how he veiled himself with Saintly power, that crimson coordinate remained constant, broadcasting his position to the entire universe.

The hunters poured in from every direction, wave after wave.

At first, they were merely rogue Saints like the Void-kin, who happened to be wandering nearby.

But soon, as word spread, the true titans began to enter the fray.

"Have you heard? That human, Qin Feng, who dominated the Divine Pass rankings, slew a Fallen Saint and successfully broke through to the Saint realm himself!"

"That’s not the point! The point is, the treasures he carries are beyond imagination! Rumor has it he possesses more than one piece of Cosmic Divine Metal, and even clues to the legendary Primordial Fire!"

"The rewards Gu Man the Madman gathered from the thirty-eighth to the forty-fourth pass are all in his hands! That is seven full passes of top-tier resources! Whoever kills him will see their assets multiply dozens of times over!"

Greed is the most primal and powerful driving force in the universe.

Faced with such immense profit, countless ancient monsters who had been in seclusion for eons could no longer sit still.

They were not like Gu Man, a pseudo-Saint with a shallow foundation built on the blessings of evil gods. These were Peak Saints—beings who had immersed themselves in the Saint realm for countless ages, their understanding of the laws reaching the pinnacle of mastery.

In their eyes, Qin Feng was merely an infant who had just learned to walk, yet was running about clutching a mountain of gold.

He was the perfect prey.

"Find him!"

"A newly ascended Saint, no matter how monstrous his talent, how strong can he truly be?"

"He is nothing more than our mobile treasury now!"

In an instant, the Endless Sea was whipped into a frenzy.

Dozens, perhaps hundreds of Saint-level powerhouses departed from their respective star domains, weaving a net that spanned countless light-years, slowly tightening around that star of crimson coordinates.

Qin Feng had become the eye of the storm.

The roles of hunter and prey had undergone a dramatic reversal the moment he broke through to Sainthood.

The third year of his flight.

Qin Feng had performed over ten thousand spatial jumps, yet the sensation of being hunted—like a maggot burrowing into his bone—had never weakened in the slightest.

He plunged into a vast "Chaos Debris Belt."

This was the wreckage left behind by the collapse of a higher universe, filled with turbulent, disordered laws and space-shards as sharp as blades; even a Saint had to tread carefully here.

Qin Feng dove in, attempting to use the chaotic environment to shake off his pursuers.

However, he had underestimated the patience and methods of those veteran Saints.

As he passed through a plane remnant the size of a star, a net woven from the pure laws of causality descended silently.

The one who struck was an ancient Saint known as the "Thousand-Hand Manifestation." He did not move his true body; with merely a sliver of his psychic projection, he had laid a death trap on Qin Feng’s inevitable path.

"Junior, surrender."

A majestic voice resonated within Qin Feng’s mind.

That net of causality did not attack the flesh, nor did it harm the soul; it did only one thing—it locked onto his "existence," binding him irrevocably to this space, rendering him unable to move an inch.

Once snared, Qin Feng would face the siege of dozens of Saints.

At the critical moment, a flash of chaotic light ignited in Qin Feng’s eyes.

He did not attempt to break free with brute force, for he knew that competing in the depth of laws against an ancient monster who had steeped himself in the Way of Causality for millions of years was like throwing an egg against a rock.

His choice was—self-severing!

"Ultimate Divine Light: Conceptual Stripping!"

Qin Feng’s Saintly power transformed into an invisible blade, not striking the net of causality, but severing the "connection" between himself and the plane remnant.

In that instant, he used the Ultimate Divine Light to forcibly rewrite the concept of his own existence.

"I," and "this rock," had never had any intersection on the level of causality.

*Sshhh—*

The net of causality fell through empty air, snaring nothing but the void.

"Hm?"

From a distant star domain, the Thousand-Hand Manifestation let out a soft sound of surprise, clearly not expecting Qin Feng to escape in such an inconceivable manner.

And Qin Feng, the moment he was free, launched a counterattack.

He did not flee; instead, leveraging the momentary gap in the laws created by the failing net, his figure flickered like a ghost, appearing directly before the psychic manifestation of the "Thousand-Hand Manifestation."

"Old man, you have quite the nerve to strike at me across the endless reaches of time and space."

*Puff!*

The spear, imbued with the concept of "erasure," pierced straight through the psychic avatar.

There was no scream; the avatar, along with the Saintly laws contained within it, was instantly disintegrated and devoured by the Ultimate Divine Light.

"You...!"

The roar of the Thousand-Hand Manifestation echoed across time and space.

But Qin Feng had already departed, leaving only a single sentence to echo in the void:

"That is merely the interest."

This was the first true counterattack Qin Feng had launched since his flight began.

Though battered and weary, he was far from being mere prey for the slaughter.

With this single shot, he warned every pursuer: he was a bone too hard to chew, and those who tried would find their teeth shattered.

Time slipped away rapidly amidst the endless cycle of pursuit and concealment.

In the blink of an eye, a thousand years had passed.

Over that millennium, Qin Feng endured hundreds of sieges and dozens of near-fatal strikes.

He had faced a Saint of Time who turned the river of history into a prison, and a titan of the Demonic Path who polluted an entire star sector with billions of malevolent thoughts.

Time and again, he escaped the jaws of death.

The monstrous defensive and regenerative powers of his Primordial Limitless Body allowed him to endure attacks that should have been lethal. His evolved Limitless Divine Light became the sharpest blade in his arsenal, dissecting his opponents' laws and finding the fleeting sliver of survival.

His combat experience accumulated at a terrifying pace, and his mastery of Saint-level power shifted from initial clumsiness to a state of seamless, self-contained fluidity.

Yet, the scars upon his body only multiplied.

On several occasions, he was forced to abandon portions of his own flesh just to slip away like a cicada shedding its skin.

The pursuers, in turn, grew smarter and more patient.

They formed a temporary "Hunter Alliance," led by several peak-level Saints, sharing intelligence on Qin Feng’s movements and coordinating elaborate traps.

The most troublesome among them was a being known as the Saint Lord of Absolute Shadow.

He was a master of space and concealment, a top-tier assassin lurking forever in the gloom, striking at the very moments Qin Feng let his guard down.

In the 1001st year of his flight,

Qin Feng hid within a cosmic wonder known as the Return to Ruins Black Hole. Its gravity was so chaotic that even light could not escape, making it a natural sanctuary.

He believed he might finally find a moment to catch his breath.

However, just as he prepared to mend his wounds, a dagger forged from the pure law of "End" emerged silently from his own shadow, aimed directly at his Saint-path core—that primordial singularity returned to chaos.

It was the Saint Lord of Absolute Shadow!

He had managed to fuse his aura perfectly with the "extinction" properties of the black hole, deceiving even Qin Feng’s Saint-level perception.

The strike was impossibly fast, ruthlessly precise.

Qin Feng had no time to react.

A soft thud.

The dagger pierced Qin Feng’s body.

Yet, the expected shattering of his Saint-path core never occurred.

The "Qin Feng" who had been struck rippled like water, then dissolved into a mere shimmer of light.

It was an illusion.

"I have been waiting for you."

A cold voice echoed from behind the Saint Lord of Absolute Shadow.

The Saint Lord’s pupils contracted as he spun around.

There stood the real Qin Feng, who had appeared behind him, his spear glowing with the chaotic Limitless Divine Light condensed to its zenith, forming a tiny, collapsing black point.

"Limitless Divine Light: Singularity Collapse!"

This was the ultimate killing move Qin Feng had deduced from his own Saint-path over the last thousand years.

He had feigned a weakness, using himself as bait, specifically to lure out this most dangerous enemy.

Boom!

The Saint Lord of Absolute Shadow could not even initiate a spatial jump before being swallowed by the miniature singularity.

His Saint body was torn into elementary particles by the horrific gravity, and his Saint-path laws were forcibly erased by the Limitless Divine Light.

A peak Saint of his generation, the Saint Lord of Absolute Shadow, had fallen!

Having succeeded, Qin Feng did not linger, fleeing into the distance immediately.

Though he had slain his foe, the effort had drained him, and more importantly, other Saints would soon surround the area.

For the first time in this thousand-year game of cat and mouse, the hunter had been killed by the prey.

This forced every pursuer to discard their arrogance, realizing that this "young beast" had quietly grown fangs amidst the bloody hunt.

Time continued to flow.

Three thousand years, five thousand, eight thousand...

Ten thousand years of history were enough for new civilizations to be born in the cosmic sea, and for ancient stars to fade into extinction.

For Qin Feng, this ten-thousand-year flight was the most painful, most wretched, yet most transformative decade of his cultivation.

He was no longer the "God Emperor" who relied on brute force to crush all opposition.

He had become a true phantom, a master of survival.

He learned to sleep in the crevices of spacetime storms, to draw energy from the depths of gravitational abysses, and to mask his aura as a common stone or a speck of dust, remaining undetected under the mental scans of dozens of Saints.

His Limitless Divine Light was no longer used solely for combat.

He could weave it into perfect illusions to deceive causality; use it to analyze the laws of his pursuers and predict their next moves; or even briefly "edit" the signal of the Blood Sacrifice Beacon to lure his hunters into dangerous cosmic forbidden zones.

His treasures, save for the source-quality divine iron fused into his spear, had been exhausted during these ten millennia of flight.

The resources in his Ancient Savage Ring had been spent on healing and traps.

He had even detonated several Saint-tier artifacts seized from his enemies just to carve a path through encirclements.

His appearance had grown weathered, yet his eyes had become profound and cold.

It was the gaze of one who had seen through life and death, turning survival into instinct.

He was no longer the prey, nor was he the hunter.

He had become a part of this cruel jungle itself.

Only three months remained until the ten-thousand-year deadline.

All the pursuers grew frantic and impatient.

They knew that once the beacon vanished, finding Qin Feng in the vast, endless sea would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

This was their final chance.

After paying a heavy price, the Hunter Alliance finally calculated Qin Feng’s approximate location—a dead, silent star sector known as the Graveyard of Stars.

Over a hundred Saints, including several fossil-like "Saint Kings" who had survived for epochs, joined forces to set up an unprecedented "Boundless Spacetime Sealing Array."

The array enveloped the entire Graveyard of Stars, freezing time and locking space.

This time, they would catch the turtle in the jar.

Qin Feng was indeed there.

The moment the array activated, he awoke from his slumber.

He could feel that every inch of space around him had been branded with an unshakable law.

He was trapped.

"Qin Feng, come out and meet your death!"

The grand voice, like a divine decree, echoed throughout the entire Star Graveyard.

Yet, Qin Feng did not appear.

He was like a pebble cast into the abyss, stirring not a single ripple.

The pursuers began to tighten their circle, scouring the star field inch by inch with holy power; every meteorite, every speck of stardust, was crushed and probed under their divine consciousness.

But they found nothing.

Time passed, day by day.

Only three days remained until the ten-thousand-year deadline.

Just as the pursuers reached the peak of their agitation, a dead white dwarf remnant at the center of the grand formation suddenly erupted with an intensely powerful signal from the Blood Sacrifice Beacon of Khorne!

The signal was brighter and more blinding than ever before!

"There!"

"We found him! He is hiding within the stellar core!"

In an instant, all the saints went mad.

Hundreds of attacks, each capable of annihilating a galaxy, rained down upon the white dwarf like a deluge.

Yet, at the very moment the strikes were about to land,

a lethal chill crept into the hearts of every one of them.

They suddenly realized a question: Why would Qin Feng voluntarily expose himself?

The next second, the answer was revealed.

Inside the white dwarf, Qin Feng’s figure flickered and vanished—it was a mere illusion.

The true source of the signal was the holy blood and resentment of all the pursuers he had slain over the millennia—including the Holy Lord of Absolute Shadow—which he had forcibly twisted and compressed using the Limitless Divine Light to forge a "super beacon."

This beacon had only one purpose: to detonate.

Boom!

The white dwarf’s remnant, struck by the combined force of a hundred saints and the internal detonation of the super beacon, suffered a "degenerate matter explosion" far exceeding theoretical limits.

It was one of the most terrifying catastrophes in the universe.

Its power was enough to make a Saint King bleed and cause saints to fall.

And Qin Feng’s true form had already escaped the moment before the detonation, utilizing the spacetime singularity created by the blast—a fleeting "instant" that even the Boundless Spacetime Sealing Array could not fully lock down.

He had used the pursuers' own strength to deliver them their most devastating blow.

The aftermath of the explosion lasted for three full days.

When the dust finally settled,

the Star Graveyard had been erased from the cosmos.

The Boundless Spacetime Sealing Array lay in tatters.

Of the hundred saints, nearly thirty percent had perished, and most of the survivors were severely wounded and in utter disarray.

They drifted in the void, their expressions vacant.

For just a moment ago, the crimson coordinate star that had shone in their perception for ten thousand years had silently flickered out.

The ten-thousand-year deadline had arrived.

In an unknown void countless light-years away from the Star Graveyard,

Qin Feng slowly opened his eyes.

His injuries were more severe than ever before; his holy body was covered in cracks, and the flame of his soul was dimmed to the point of extinction.

But he had survived.

He felt the final shackle upon his soul dissolve, felt that unprecedented freedom, and exhaled a long, ragged breath.

That breath seemed to expel ten thousand years of exhaustion and slaughter.

He had succeeded.

He had endured this hunt that had swept across the universe.

Qin Feng did not immediately tend to his wounds; he simply floated in silence, his gaze piercing through the endless reaches of spacetime, as if seeing those furious, decimated pursuers.

The corners of his mouth slowly curled into a cold, sharp arc.

"Ten thousand years..."

"This 'game' is over."

"Now, it is my turn."

The flight had ended.

The time for reckoning had begun.