Chapter 212: Ghostification

Chapter 212: Ghost Transformation

What did Elder Sun mean by those words?

The Star Officials and Night Wanderers in the back rows all heard Elder Sun's anguished, hate-filled voice.

For a moment, none could comprehend—wasn't Yuan Shi Tianzun the one finished? The sand-transformed ground would leave a Night Wanderer's invisibility nowhere to hide, and thirty bronze puppets could hack Yuan Shi Tianzun to death with chaotic blades.

Just who was finished?

If Yuan Shi Tianzun were an Earth God, then there would be nothing to say, but he was a Night Wanderer; even with defensive artifacts of the Earth Monster profession, he could not withstand thirty war sabers.

Faced with the inquiries of Elder Hong Ying and the others, Elder Sun replied with irritation:

"I once mended a pair of shoes..."

Shoes? The several elders of the Taiyi Sect still gazed at him with baffled eyes.

At that moment, a sharp *ding* rang out within the arena, cutting off the crowd's discussion; the elders turned their attention back to the stage.

Under the Spirit Servant's manipulation, a bronze puppet swayed left and right, striding with the bizarre yet swift gait of a Strange Walker, flashing before Yuan Shi Tianzun, raising its rust-mottled war saber, and slashing down viciously.

Zhang Yuanqing raised his saber to block, feeling as though what crashed down was not a blade, but the Golden Cudgel of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

The web of his thumb split open instantly, blood streaming freely.

This is a puppet? This damn thing is a Fire Master, no, this is the power of a Bewitching Fiend... Zhang Yuanqing nearly cursed aloud, accusing the opponent of cheating.

A single puppet possesses such terrifying monstrous strength; thirty puppets—would they not hack me to pieces with chaotic blades?

His heart turned cold, the fine hairs on his spine standing on end.

Seeing Yuan Shi Tianzun actually suppressed by a single puppet, the audience outside the arena cried out in alarm.

Thirty puppets swarming—how can Yuan Shi Tianzun fight?

Everyone increasingly felt this battle was perilous; Yuan Shi Tianzun would most likely fall to Zhao Chenghuang's counterattack.

"Scram!"

Zhang Yuanqing erupted in rage, arm muscles tightening, power exploding as he forcibly shoved the puppet's war saber back; seizing the moment the puppet staggered back, jet-black viscous energy surged from his eyes, his temperament turning sinister and noble.

He tried reaching out to grasp the black thread atop the puppet's head.

Yet as a Night Wanderer, his palm passed through the black thread, grasping nothing.

"Fuck, can't touch it?"

Seeing the bronze puppet steady itself and thrust a saber forth, Zhang Yuanqing retreated while cursing.

Since he couldn't deal with the black thread, he could only deal with Zhao Chenghuang's Spirit Servant... He glanced at the Spirit Servant floating behind Zhao Chenghuang, his rage-filled expression shifting into a cold, sinister smile, and said:

"Even if I die today, I'll devour your Spirit Servant."

Watching Yuan Shi Tianzun's temperament suddenly become so fickle, Zhao Chenghuang frowned slightly and said blandly:

"Knowing the arena match isn't fatal, you deliberately spew hot air? No matter; soon I'll let you taste the flavor of death by a thousand cuts."

Zhang Yuanqing shed his coldness, cursing vulgarly: "So what if I threaten you? I won't just threaten you—I'll fuck your ancestors!"

"Insolent brat, how dare you!"

From the elders' dais, Elder Zhao, a patriarch of the clan, roared in fury.

Zhao Chenghuang closed his eyes slightly, focusing on his breathing to restore his strength, while the spirit servant behind him lifted its bowed head, shooting out two beams of eerie, obsidian light.

The next second, the bronze puppets came charging, blades in hand, their movements stiff yet terrifyingly swift, like thirty monstrous, aberrant creatures.

Facing the swarming host of foes, Zhang Yuanqing retreated once more and summoned his second item.

Two dark red glimmers crisscrossed through the air, wrapping around his feet; his running shoes vanished, replaced by a pair of brand-new, oversized red dancing shoes.

At that precise moment, the first bronze puppet lunged, its left leg kicking back, its right leg stepping forward, its torso arching back in an exaggerated pose as it raised a rusted war blade high.

It struck down with all its might.

Zhang Yuanqing had intended to sidestep, but the red dancing shoes had a mind of their own; with a flash of crimson, they spun him around.

Like a ballerina, he pirouetted with effortless grace.

The second bronze puppet arrived, its blade cleaving vertically.

The edge of the steel grazed his body, but he had already evaded it through his elegant rotation.

The third bronze puppet arrived, its blade cleaving vertically.

The fourth, the fifth...

Zhang Yuanqing spun gracefully, a forest of guillotine-like blades raining down behind him.

Every blade came within a hair's breadth of striking him, yet each missed by a fraction; he appeared to be in mortal peril, yet he remained composed, dancing elegantly amidst the thicket of steel.

Don't, please don't do this, it’s a bit humiliating... If the Elvis speaker were here, the soundtrack would surely be "Spinning and leaping, I close my eyes"... Thinking of the many spectators watching, Zhang Yuanqing felt his face flush with embarrassment.

The first form of the red dancing shoes was a relentless pursuit—unstoppable, indestructible, and unending—a rule-based ability that Zhang Yuanqing had once relied upon most.

The second form, conversely, was rarely used, but as his enemies grew stronger and the shoes' offensive power began to wane, the utility of this second form had become increasingly apparent.

The second form granted evasion, agility, and the ability to traverse any terrain.

It was a form best suited for chaotic melees, allowing one to pass through a thousand blades without a single drop of blood touching one's skin.

Watching Yuan Shi Tian Zun, who had donned the dancing shoes and was calmly evading the puppets' encirclement, Zhao Chenghuang’s cold expression suddenly darkened.

A surge of irritation rose from the depths of his heart.

Why did he still have trump cards? Why was he so tenacious? Why could he not be utterly crushed?

For the first time, Zhao Chenghuang felt a flicker of dread toward this enemy.

This... the spectators outside the arena widened their eyes, staring blankly at the scene; what kind of reaction time and agility were required to evade the siege of thirty bronze puppets with such elegance?

"That’s the red dancing shoes that appeared in yesterday’s dungeon match."

"It’s what grants Yuan Shi Tian Zun such astonishing evasive ability..."

"It can hunt, it can flee—this is a divine artifact! Who said Yuan Shi Tian Zun had no top-tier items? This is already the second one. Where is that scholar from Wenyuan Pavilion? Come out, I’m going to beat you to death."

The spectator stands erupted in gasps of awe, and the official walkers of the Five Elements Alliance felt their spirits soar; moments ago, their faces had been etched with worry, but now, they were beaming with joy and excitement.

On the Taiyi Sect’s side, however, the Night-Wandering Deities and Stellar Officials frowned in unison.

This Primordial Heavenly Venerable was truly tenacious; he produced artifacts one after another. A situation originally deemed a certain loss had actually been dragged out into a lingering struggle by him.

Elder Sun murmured softly,

"It is these shoes..."

He had touched the Red Dancing Shoes and seen their attributes. Therefore, upon seeing that Zhao Chenghuang’s trump card was the Puppet Storage Box, Elder Sun knew then that things had gone awry.

To win by numbers, to force a melee—any other contestant in the Transcendent stage would have had no choice but to concede defeat. Even the Lord of the Land would face the risk of being hacked to death by a chaotic mob.

But the Primordial Heavenly Venerable alone... possessed these Red Dancing Shoes.

"What shoes are those?" Elder Zhao’s face was grim. Having witnessed the marvel of the Red Dancing Shoes, his tone turned grave.

Elder Sun sighed: "The Sheling Tunnel!"

Elder Zhao fell silent for a long moment, then let out a long, slow breath: "So it was that artifact."

Elder Hongying and the others all recalled the item. Back when the Taiyi Sect attempted to clear the Sheling Tunnel, they had dispatched two Night-Wandering Deities to station themselves long-term in Songhai.

Though both disciples had unfortunately returned to the Spirit Realm, they had brought back crucial intelligence: a rule-type artifact of irregular entry existed within the Sheling Tunnel.

The Sheling Tunnel, the Red Dancing Shoes... Yin Ji in the back row seemed to recall something. Her delicate frame trembled slightly; beneath the gauze veil, her lips pressed tight, and a sheen of moisture swirled in her beautiful eyes. An ancient, nearly forgotten voice echoed by her ear:

"When I was very weak, I once entered the Sheling Tunnel. There was a pair of very interesting dancing shoes there. Good sister, after meeting you, I often thought... if I could return to the Sheling Tunnel, I would surely bring them out for you."

"You've been to the Sheling Tunnel? Nonsense. The Sheling Tunnel is an uncleared instance."

"I never said I cleared it."

"More nonsense. Then how did you get out?"

"That's a secret I can't tell. Kiss me and I'll tell you."

"Pah!"

...

At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing, dancing amidst the forest of blades, carved a fluid semicircle, weaving past the crowd of Bronze Puppets to close in on Zhao Chenghuang at the rear.

The most cost-effective way to break the deadlock was to destroy his spiritual servants... Zhang Yuanqing sprinted in great strides. At a distance of five or six meters, he suddenly accelerated, flashing toward Zhao Chenghuang’s back like a black shadow.

Zhang Yuanqing charged forward, his face fierce as he slashed with his long saber.

He had originally intended to use the Straw Doll, but activating its Degeneration ability required several seconds of wind-up. Those few seconds were enough for the spiritual servants to manipulate the Bronze Puppets into turning and counterattacking.

Zhao Chenghuang unhurriedly produced a small clay figurine, cradling it in his palm.

*Hum!*

The narrow-mouthed long saber struck the hazy gray barrier, shearing off great flakes of light.

Zhang Yuanqing communed with the Red Dancing Shoes, wresting back the initiative of his footwork. His steps shifted, swiftly circling to Zhao Chenghuang’s flank, his eyes protruding with a viscous, pitch-black substance.

Attacking Zhao Chenghuang was to force him into a defensive measure, and Zhao Chenghuang’s defensive artifact could only be that clay figurine. The artifact slot limit restricted the possibility of him using any other defensive item.

Once the clay figurine was used, he would become clumsy and slow.

Under the Night Wanderer's awe-inspiring gaze, the Spirit Servant's body stiffened, as if it had encountered a terrifying natural predator.

The distance was enough... Drawing a deep breath, Zhang Yuanqing opened his mouth, intending to Devour Spirit from afar.

Just then, a black shadow slammed in from the rear flank.

At the critical moment, Zhao Chenghuang summoned a Yin Corpse to shield him.

*Thwack!*

Zhang Yuanqing couldn't dodge in time; he was struck head-on, sending up a fountain of water spray.

Propelled by inertia, the Level 4 Yin Corpse "shattered" the enemy's body on impact, continuing its charge forward.

The water fell, flowing back into Zhang Yuanqing's body. He had been wearing the Yin-Yang Daoist Robe all along; the Water Ghost's passive skill was a divine technique that countered physical attacks. Unfortunately, this passive had a cooldown and couldn't maintain that state indefinitely.

Guess I'll let you handle my feet then... Zhang Yuanqing silently told the Red Dancing Shoes.

*Thud!*

Zhao Chenghuang stowed the clay figurine. The instant the Primordial Heavenly Venerable's body reverted to its original form, the instant dark energy surfaced in the Primordial Heavenly Venerable's pupils, he struck decisively, sprinting forward at his utmost speed, right arm drawing back.

A fist smashed toward the enemy's cheek.

Seeing this, Zhang Yuanqing didn't hesitate to interrupt the Devouring, raising his saber to cleave down.

*Bang! Splurt!*

Zhang Yuanqing's neck went sore; his head rotated a hundred and eighty degrees, allowing him to see his own back, while his combat saber split open Zhao Chenghuang's chest, revealing severed bone and faintly visible organs.

Zhao Chenghuang's face twisted for a moment before he rapidly retreated.

*Crack!*

Zhang Yuanqing twisted his neck, snapping his head back into place.

Honestly, one punch cured my years of cervical spondylosis... he thought, finding amusement in suffering.

At this moment, the Spirit Servant behind Zhao Chenghuang broke free of the Devouring's influence, violently yanking back the black threads at its fingertips. Copper blocks *clattered* in collision, and thirty Bronze Puppets were simultaneously hauled back.

They flew into the air, like marionettes held aloft by strings, crashing down toward Zhang Yuanqing in a sky-covering, earth-blanketing wave.

As they fell, the Bronze Puppets raised the combat sabers in their hands.

The Red Dancing Shoes on Zhang Yuanqing's feet suddenly flared with light, accelerating into a reckless sprint.

Seeing the enemy about to escape the Bronze Puppets' kill zone, the Spirit Servant in tattered robes pressed its ten fingers downward.

The thirty puppets, like floats that had bitten the hook, plunged downward in a sudden sink.

Thirty standard-issue combat sabers, sharp enough to slice iron like mud, slashed down from all eight directions; the Primordial Heavenly Venerable had nowhere to dodge.

At that very moment, only the heavy *thud-thud-thud* of footsteps rang out. The armored Dead Man No. 1 collided forward like a war chariot.

One falling Bronze Puppet after another was sent flying in chaotic disarray.

And Zhang Yuanqing executed a sliding tackle, slipping out of the zone amidst the billowing dust.

Behind him, the heavy Bronze Puppets crashed down like rain, kicking up plumes of yellow sand.

The spirit servant, draped in tattered robes, raised a hand with a sudden, sharp motion, and the bronze puppets sprawled across the ground rose in unison, encircling Subject One and raining down a flurry of blades.

Humming vibrations filled the air.

The light barrier projected by the combat armor shuddered violently, showing signs of imminent collapse.

Subject One bore the brunt of the chaotic onslaught, throwing punches left and right to beat back the bronze puppets, each strike ringing out with the harsh, discordant clatter of metal on metal.

These puppets were not only possessed of boundless strength but were forged with skin of bronze and bones of iron.

This won't do; if this continues, the armor’s defense will shatter... Zhang Yuanqing immediately issued an order to break through.

The Yin corpse possessed no intellect; without an order to retreat, it would fight until it was hacked into pieces.

Subject One instantly abandoned its defense, hunched low, and sprinted toward the flank, smashing through the bronze puppets blocking its path.

No sooner had it broken the encirclement than the Level 4 Yin corpse charged like a wild bull, slamming into it and carrying it a hundred meters away, where it crashed into the stone wall beneath the spectator stands, spiderwebbing the masonry with cracks.

The two Yin corpses resumed their brawl, trading blow for brutal blow.

On the other side, following the surprise attack, the spirit servant in tattered robes summoned five bronze puppets to serve as a vanguard, forming a fan-shaped formation before Zhao Chenghuang.

"A pity, the decapitation strike failed!"

Zhang Yuanqing leaned on his blade, his gaze sweeping past the bronze puppets to fix upon the gasping Zhao Chenghuang.

Neither side pressed the attack, settling into a brief, tense standoff.

"Hah... hah..."

Zhao Chenghuang breathed heavily, glancing down at the wound on his chest; the bleeding had stopped, leaving a dark, crimson stain—a sign that a scab was forming.

Yet, for a wound of such severity, even the regenerative powers of a Night Wanderer would require several hours to mend.

His condition had deteriorated once more.

Zhao Chenghuang suppressed his irritation, pondering for a moment, and concluded he had two tactical options: first, to stall for time until the duration of those red dancing shoes expired, then command the bronze puppets to swarm and subdue Yuan Shi Tian Zun.

Second, to conserve his strength until he could manifest his ghost form once more, at which point he would act as the general, leading his soldiers—the puppets—to execute Yuan Shi Tian Zun.

The core of both tactics was "stalling for time."

This spirit servant isn't lacking in intelligence; it knows how to arrange a guard... Zhang Yuanqing was likewise weighing his options. The second form of the Red Dancing Shoes could only be worn for five minutes.

After five minutes, he would be forced to deactivate the form and switch to a pursuit command. The item description for the Red Dancing Shoes made no mention of a cooldown, but after using them for so long, he had deduced the pattern.

The proper way to use the Red Dancing Shoes was: First Form + Second Form + Awkward Dance!

This constituted one cycle.

Of course, one could also do First Form + Awkward Dance, or Second Form + Awkward Dance.

In any case, after the first or second form, one had to perform the awkward dance to initiate the next cycle.

Zhao Chenghuang’s spirit servant is protected by bronze puppets; I tried it just now, and a forced assassination is unlikely to succeed... Then I have no choice but to use the most foolish method, though fortunately, my stamina remains almost entirely intact...

Watching the two sides temporarily cease their hostilities, the spectators' fervor began to cool, and reason slowly returned:

"What a shame. He could have used Night Wanderer to ambush the spirit servant, but the arena turned into a beach, and Night Wanderer leaves footprints. Yuan Shi Tian Zun failed just now."

“Hmm? Why isn’t Zhao Chenghuang ordering the bronze puppets to attack? Shouldn’t he be draining Yuanshi Tianzun’s stamina right now?”

“I suddenly thought of a question—what is the price of Yuanshi Tianzun’s red dancing shoes? Artifacts with a buff state like that usually have a time limit, don’t they?”

“You mean… Zhao Chenghuang is probing the price of the dancing shoes?”

“Zhao Chenghuang managed to feel out the flaw in that robe; probing the shoes’ price is child’s play.”

The surroundings fell abruptly silent.

Elder Sun’s complexion improved slightly as he spoke:

“The second form of that artifact has a wear time of five minutes. Zhao Chenghuang’s tactics are sound—protect the spirit servant, wait for Yuanshi Tianzun’s artifact to expire, then counterattack.”

Upon hearing this, Elder Zhao stroked his beard and smiled.

Elder Hongying also smiled:

“That’s good then. This child, Yuanshi Tianzun, is truly tenacious. I’ve watched him climb from the arena matches step by step to the final battle; I admire him greatly…”

She didn’t continue. To say more would be to say, “Old Sun, you’re senile.”

At this moment, the onlookers outside the arena saw Yuanshi Tianzun, treading on red dancing shoes, dragging a long saber, charging alone into the puppet army—like a lone brave soul rushing into a thousand troops and ten thousand horses.

Has he lost his mind?

The audience outside gasped; the elders were also momentarily stunned.

*Clack, clack, clack…* Zhang Yuanqing propped the saber on his shoulder, his Daoist robe billowing behind him, charging toward the bronze puppet legion like a war chariot.

Amidst the high-speed sprint, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly slid a step to the left, perfectly dodging an enemy’s cleaving blade, and counter-swung his forearm. His muscles bulged thickly, driving the narrow long saber in a vicious *lash*.

*Clang!*

The narrow long saber *lashed* against the bronze puppet’s chest, carving a deep, ghastly gash.

Tough hide, thick flesh indeed… Zhang Yuanqing cursed inwardly. His body suddenly collapsed downward, two war sabers shearing past the top of his head.

Then, manipulated by the red dancing shoes, he rebounded upward, ramming his saber into the bronze puppet before him. The blade edge scraped dazzling sparks across the bronze torso.

Another two war sabers assaulted him from behind.

The red dancing shoes vaulted up, stomping on the chest of the puppet in front, executing a backflip to evade the blades striking from behind.

Zhang Yuanqing somersaulted in mid-air, gripping the long saber with both hands, letting out a deep, muffled roar. Borrowing the momentum of his descent, he cleaved down with all his might.

*Ding!*

The narrow long saber hacked onto a bronze puppet’s shoulder, carving a gash over ten centimeters long. His tiger’s mouth instantly split open, blood streaming freely.

Zhang Yuanqing retreated swiftly, pulling out of the zone before the bronze puppets could encircle him.

No good. Even with the war saber’s sharpness, he still couldn’t cleave these things apart… Zhang Yuanqing retreated with saber in hand, anxiety gnawing at him silently.

At this rate, the five minutes would be up.

What to do?

His thoughts raced, and he suddenly recalled the scene where Big Muscle Tyrant and White Dragon had joined forces to attack the Rank 3 Witchcraft Master, “Rampant Without Fear.”

Back then, when "Rampant and Unbridled" transformed his Gu, his whole body was encased in a chitinous armor impervious to blades and spears. Daji Buxian attacked with fire first, the White Dragon rapidly cooled it with water, and finally Guan Ya fired precise shots, shattering the armor with ease.

As Zhang Yuanqing recalled this, he had already made his decision regarding his third artifact.

He opened his inventory, grasped the Burst Pistol, raised the muzzle, and squeezed the trigger at the bronze puppets lunging to kill.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Streaks of dark red trajectories crisscrossed toward the puppets, detonating upon their bodies. The bullets struck primarily at chests and faces.

When the Burst Pistol’s rounds hit the bronze frames, the sound was not the sharp clang of metal on metal, but a dull, heavy thud of explosions. Each bullet acted like a tiny grenade, carrying a burst effect.

The impacted areas bloomed with a bruised blackness, shimmered with iridescent light, and curled with green smoke.

Zhang Yuanqing "kited" the mobs while firing. Because the distance was short, nearly every shot connected; at worst, his aim drifted slightly, sending a round meant for a chest into a crotch.

The uninterrupted barrage lasted two minutes. Zhang Yuanqing holstered the Burst Pistol, black light gathering in his left palm, condensing into a water sphere the size of a human head.

This was the limit of what he could achieve with the Yin-Yang Daoist Robe.

After all, there were no rivers nearby, no ponds, no faucets.

Zhang Yuanqing manipulated the water sphere, gently pressing it against the Narrow-Mouthed Longsword. Icy water slithered along the blade, coating it entirely.

Have a taste of my Ice Blade—no, Water Blade... With that done, Zhang Yuanqing bore the sword into the midst of the bronze puppet horde.

He lowered his center of gravity, his footwork blindingly fast—now sidestepping, now stepping obliquely, now leaping, now splitting his legs—like the legendary Lingbo Weibu. It seemed chaotic, yet hid profound mystery; he always cleverly evaded the chops and slashes coming from all eight directions.

Simultaneously, he swung the Narrow-Mouthed Longsword—thrusting, cleaving, sweeping, hacking vertically—striking the scorching hot spots on the bronze puppets.

*Hiss, hiss~*

Green smoke billowed straight up. Wherever his blade landed, the hard bronze instantly cracked, fissures spreading, tearing through the entire frame, producing an avalanche-like effect.

In one breath, Zhang Yuanqing slaughtered his way through the puppet formation, arriving near Zhao Chenghuang.

Behind his gently fluttering dark Daoist robe, the bronze puppets toppled one after another, shattered copper chunks littering the ground.

Just then, the Red Dancing Shoes on his feet burst into red light, reforming a short distance away into a pair of brand new, exquisite red dancing shoes.

Zhang Yuanqing’s tiger’s mouth had split open to the bone, fresh blood dripping down the blade, but he paid it no heed. He gazed at Zhao Chenghuang a few meters away, lifting his chin:

"How about that?"

This is what they mean by: master math, physics, and chemistry, and you can walk the world without fear.

Zhao Chenghuang’s face was iron-green, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly—whether from provocation or fury at the total annihilation of his bronze puppets was unclear.

At this moment, not a single bronze puppet remained before him. When the Primordial Heavenly Venerable smashed puppet after puppet, Zhao Chenghuang had ordered the five puppets at his side to attack, but they still couldn't escape destruction, lost under the enemy's ruthless onslaught.

The audience stands were deathly silent.

Countless eyes fixed on the Primordial Heavenly Venerable standing with his blade. They never imagined he would break the deadlock in such a way—violent, wild, yet brimming with skill!

The Fire Masters’ blood boiled, their breathing ragged, filled with a thrilling, refreshing satisfaction. *This* is how a real man fights.

A few seconds later, the cheers arrived, the entire arena erupting.

And at this moment, the Elders' seats were strangely quiet. The battle had reached this stage; every artifact that could be used had been used, every means that could be employed had been employed. The cards both contestants had left to play were few.

Whether victory or defeat, even they, the masters, could offer no guarantee.

The Taiyi Sect elders fell silent, their hearts heavy; they realized that perhaps Zhao Chenghuang might not seize the championship so easily after all.

The Wuxing Alliance elders were silent too, but theirs was a silence laced with a thread of anticipation.

In their estimation, barring accident, Zhao Chenghuang was the champion of this Transcendent bracket.

If Yuanshi Tianzun could squeeze into the top two, the Wuxing Alliance’s objective would be met; in plain terms, the KPI was satisfied. So the elders hadn’t pinned hopes on him taking the crown, and had cheerfully bought into Fu Qingyang’s odds.

But now that the battle had reached this stage, it seemed... perhaps... maybe... there might be a turn of events?

Dog Elder and the others suddenly felt anticipation stir, yet feared it an illusion, and so chose silence.

In the arena, Zhao Chenghuang drew a deep breath and said:

"Yuanshi Tianzun, I admit you are strong. Strong enough to give me a headache. You are the strongest Transcendent Night Wanderer I have ever met. In the future, you might well become my worthy rival."

As he spoke, he opened his mouth and swallowed the Spirit Servant behind him, fixing Yuanshi Tianzun with a solemn gaze:

"But that is the future. As for now, I still have to press you down a notch."

With that, Zhao Chenghuang produced a third item from his inventory—a pendant shaped like a green leaf, hanging at his chest.

In an instant, a soft green glow bloomed. Wisps of green mist threaded through skin, flesh, and meridians, knitting the knife wound at his chest.

Within a few breaths, the wound began to close, then scab over, and Zhao Chenghuang’s pallid complexion gradually flushed ruddy.

He was not fully healed, nor had he fully recovered his stamina. A wood-demon’s regenerative capacity at the Transcendent stage was limited; it could not achieve "resurrection from death" like the Elixir of Life.

But it was enough. With this artifact, Zhao Chenghuang caught his second wind, enabling him to unleash Demonification once more.

Zhao Chenghuang bowed slightly, muscles knotting one by one, a pained roar tearing from his throat.

His frame suddenly swelled, skin rapidly turning a dark cyan-black, gleaming with a metallic sheen. Black veins coiled around his knotted muscles; nails elongated swiftly into sharp, obsidian claws.

A layer of white frost condensed beneath his feet, spreading outward, a bone-piercing chill descending from all sides.

"He can still Demonify? What is with this Zhao Chenghuang, so many trump cards? Him fighting Transcendent contestants is purely dimensionality reduction."

"Demonification again..."

Gazing at the hideous Zhao Chenghuang, curses rose from the stands.

The audience was near despair.

They watched Yuanshi Tianzun give his all, resolving Zhao Chenghuang’s tricks time and again, bleeding his heart out to endure until now—only to face the enemy’s Demonification once more.

Everyone watching felt despair; one could only imagine Yuanshi Tianzun’s state of mind.

The elders observed calmly, seemingly expressionless, yet after Zhao Chenghuang unleashed his second Demonification, the few Taiyi Sect elders visibly relaxed.

The Wuxing Alliance elders remained placid—after all, this was within expectations. Zhao Chenghuang winning was the logical progression; having never truly hoped, they felt no disappointment.

I knew this guy had more tricks. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have held back that third item... Zhang Yuanqing stared at the demonified Zhao Chenghuang, certain that the wood-demon class artifact was Zhao Chenghuang’s failsafe.

Guaranteeing he could Demonify one more time.

Post-Demonification, Zhao Chenghuang’s speed and power neared the Saint stage. In the current situation, he indeed possessed the capacity to settle it with a single blow.

"You are a truly terrifying opponent. Perhaps... the ceiling of combat power in the Transcendent stage."

Zhang Yuanqing slipped a hand into his pocket, withdrawing seven small blue pills. He kept one behind, then tilted his head back and swallowed the rest dry.

Then, in his mind's eye, he visualized the face of his father, dead these many years.

*Thump-thump. Thump-thump...*

His heartbeat suddenly intensified. Blood surged like a flash flood, scouring his vessels. Adrenaline spiked. His entire body revved like an engine at redline, every function climbing toward its absolute limit.

Thanks to the pills, he heard none of the cacophonous noise; his brain received no fragmented, chaotic visions.

His consciousness was terrifyingly clear, his control over his body pushed to the absolute pinnacle.

Zhang Yuanqing silently stirred the Yin power within him, disturbing it bit by bit, detonating it. A fierce chill seized his heart, and a freezing current rushed through his limbs and bones.

"Heh-heh~"

Zhang Yuanqing doubled over. His skin rapidly darkened to a bruised black-blue, gleaming with a metallic luster. Ten fingers elongated into sharp, obsidian claws. His eye sockets were consumed by a viscous, pitch-black energy.

His frame swelled violently. His height shot up to one meter ninety. Muscles knotted like gnarled roots across his body; black veins bulged one by one beneath the skin.

Beneath his feet, a biting white frost condensed, spreading rapidly in all directions.

In the space of a few breaths, he had transformed into a hideous monster, facing off against another monster from a distance.

*Demonification?!*

Elder Zhao shot to his feet, his gaze sharp, fixed unblinkingly on the arena.

The Night Wanderers of the Taiji Sect wore expressions of dull shock.

The elders of the Five Elements Alliance had eyes that suddenly blazed with light.

In the stands, a figure in a white suit abruptly rose, no longer sitting.

Behind him, a phalanx of White Tiger Guards rose in perfect unison.

This single motion triggered a chain reaction. The vast sea of humanity undulated; great swathes of the audience surged to their feet.