Chapter 927: Choosing a World

Li Yi intervened to save the old martial saint, refusing to let him die, for their exchange had been merely a sparring match with no personal grudge, and such a warrior would be a tremendous asset in cross-world combat.

He raised his arm to look at it.

His handback’s flesh had been ground away, revealing his translucent silver bones—proof that the old saint’s peak punch had indeed left a mark on this divine body.

Yet the true horror of the divine body lay not merely in its strength, but in its astonishing regenerative capacity.

In but a moment, the wound on Li Yi’s handback had fully healed.

“Li Yi won.”

When the residual force dissipated and the space stabilized, the heavens and earth cleared once more; the many experts who had watched the battle now gathered from all directions, having already learned the outcome.

They had not expected Li Yi to win so easily.

Even the peak strike of an old martial saint could not shake the towering, godlike figure—though it had left a slight wound, what use was that tiny mark?

It was no different from a superficial scratch.

Moreover, Li Yi had merely used his physical strength to throw a single punch—he had not even drawn his demon king weapon or cast any spell, meaning that in true combat, his actual power would be far more terrifying than what he had shown.

“Wu Tianji from the Martial God Continent has fallen. Li Yi’s cross-world campaign plan must now be taken seriously,” thought Sun Boxiu, the vice-dean, then glanced at Zhao Yongshan, Xiao Jianguo, and others nearby.

Their expressions were grave; they could no longer avoid considering what came next.

Given Li Yi’s current displayed power, cross-world combat was indeed feasible—after all, the Golden Academy had already gathered a group of elite warriors; all that remained was a sufficiently powerful leader to spearhead it.

“Cough. Cough.”

Wu Tianji’s weak cough broke the silence after the battle. After being pulled back from death by a cluster of Life Water, he did not rush to recuperate; instead, his eyes burned brightly as he fixed them on Li Yi, pondering the words Li Yi had spoken.

“Insufficient physical strength? Indeed. The mortal body struggles to bear this power. Opening acupoints and refining essence-blood would only increase the burden on the body.”

He looked at his own body.

That single clash had left him covered in cracks, while Li Yi’s body remained intact—only the skin and flesh had been scraped away. Such a terrifying physique was precisely what martial artists should strive for.

After all, how could one brawl with enemies if one’s body was not hard enough? Martial artists could not rely on magic treasures or spells—they had only their fists.

“So to become a Martial God, one must not only open acupoints but also temper the body,” Wu Tianji murmured, finally recognizing his own weakness.

Li Yi’s single remark had saved him countless detours—it had pointed him toward the correct path; now he need only follow it.

As for how to open acupoints or enhance physical strength, Li Yi would not tell him—he must discover it himself through slow, personal exploration.

For Li Yi himself had discovered it the same way.

Drawing inspiration from the positioning of divine blood, he intended to open three hundred and sixty-five acupoints and become a Divine Blood Warrior, possessing a physique like a god’s—his own unique cultivation path.

But not everyone could comprehend three hundred and sixty-five acupoints, nor could everyone become a Divine Blood Warrior.

The road ahead remained arduous.

“Thank you for your guidance, old man understands what he must do next,” Wu Tianji struggled to his feet, then bowed deeply to Li Yi with solemn respect.

It was both reverence for Li Yi and gratitude for his insight.

Li Yi gave a slight nod and accepted the bow: “Your body is damaged—you should rest now. When you become a Martial God, perhaps we may yet discuss martial arts together.”

“Hah! I don’t think that day will come too late,” Wu Tianji laughed heartily.

Now that he had found his direction, his talent would surely allow him to break through and become a Martial God—it was only a matter of time. He now felt this Earth had been the right place to come to; otherwise, he would still be trapped in his corner, never knowing how vast the outer heavens truly were.

After this brief sparring ended,

Sun Boxiu, the vice-dean, flew over and said: “Li Yi, Wu Tianji, I’m glad you’re both unharmed. Such sparring should be kept to a minimum—it’s too dangerous. One misstep and you could die. You are both among the Golden Academy’s most vital members; any loss would be a grave matter.”

“Moreover, Earth is currently in a time of turmoil—we often rely on both of you to stabilize the situation and deter powerful enemies.”

He pleaded earnestly, unwilling to see such an incident happen again.

“Vice-Dean Sun, you’ve grown increasingly talkative. When the Immortal Dao Continent invaded Earth and came to the Golden Academy, you set up fighting platforms—how many were injured? I nearly died on one myself. After that, you should know: cultivators must endure trials, or how will they face future enemies?”

Li Yi spoke calmly: “Of course, one must maintain restraint. But enough of that—since you’re here, let me ask: what progress have you made on the cross-world campaign?”

“We’re still discussing it. Though launching an attack now is untimely, if you insist, most will agree,” Sun Boxiu replied.

“What do you mean ‘I insist’? You make it sound like I’m a war fanatic. Do you think I enjoy killing? I simply don’t want some day to wake up and find enemies at our doorstep, devouring my relatives and friends whole.”

Li Yi raised an eyebrow: “It seems some still aren’t willing to listen. Don’t they understand the principle of preparing for danger in times of peace? If anyone has objections, let them step forward and speak to me—I’m sure my fist can convince them.”

At these words, Sun Boxiu froze. Zhao Yongshan, Xiao Jianguo, and others nearby could only offer faint, helpless smiles.

Who would dare voice disagreement to your face?

Just now, that punch shattered the void—who’s head is so hard it fears nothing, not even shattered void?

“Enough useless talk. In three days, make a decision: either I lead a cross-world campaign, or drop it entirely. Let everyone go their own way—no more wasting time.”

Three days?

Sun Boxiu nodded slightly. Li Yi might be forceful, but he still granted them time to prepare and deliberate.

“Li Yi, if you launch a cross-world campaign, which world will you strike first? The Dark World? The Primitive World? The Demon God Realm? Or our old foes, the Immortal Dao Continent? Beyond these, we’ve also secured connections to other worlds.”

He asked outright, without evasion.

He wanted everyone to hear it—to prepare mentally—and to solidify Li Yi’s resolve, for mobilization meant real war; if Li Yi changed his mind again, it would be a nightmare.

“Start with the Demon God Realm,” Li Yi said directly.

“Li Yi, the Demon God Realm is a powerful cultivation world. A full-scale invasion would draw many demon kings together—it would be extremely difficult. Why not choose the Dark World? Though its dark gods and ancient gods are malevolent, their combat power is weak, and the Dark World has allies.”

Zhao Yongshan flew over, frowning, skeptical of this world.

“Demons like to eat people,” Li Yi said coldly.

At this, all fell silent.

It was indeed the best reason.

The Golden Academy’s archives contained images of great demons devouring humans—swallowing half a city in a single gulp, horrific beyond words.

(End of Chapter)