Chapter 370: God Transformation Descends

"Go!"

Wang Ping's low shout still echoed in the void, and the pursuers had arrived.

Three early God Transformation cultivators, over ten late Nascent Soul to Perfection battle puppets, and six Perfection cultivators of the ordered Netherworld clan—this force, like a heavenly net and earthly web, closed in from all directions.

The silver-robed leader raised a hand and pressed lightly; the fissure just blasted open by the Mountain-Moving Old Ancestor with his life instantly healed. The order seal re-formed, stronger and more impenetrable than before.

"We can't escape." Cang Xuan halted his steps, turned around, and gripped his sword tightly. His voice remained as cold as ever, yet a hint of resolve crept in—"Since it's come to this, let's fight."

Yu Liuli wiped away her tears, placed the ancient zither across her knees. Her eyes were still wet, but her fingertips had already touched the strings.

Venerable Tianyan steadied his breathing, stood upright, and gently swayed his horsetail whisk; the lingering runes around him slowly condensed.

Lady Xuanhu clutched her shoulder wound, her silver eyes narrowing slightly as a bitter smile touched her lips: "My life may well end here today."

Wang Ping watched them silently, saying nothing.

He knew that saying anything now would be pointless.

He simply stepped forward, placing himself at the very front of the group.

Chaos Domain, unleashed to its fullest.

That strand of Primordial Chaos Source throbbed wildly in his dantian, driving the power of chaos to its extreme. A murky gray light burst from Wang Ping's body, colliding head-on with the silver order seal.

Boom—

The void shuddered violently.

Chaos and order, two utterly opposing primal forces, collided fiercely at this moment. There was no dazzling brilliance, no deafening roar—only a silent annihilation at the level of law: where chaos eroded, order's runes faded in swaths; where order prevailed, the chaos mist dissolved like snow.

At the core where the two forces clashed, the very void collapsed and twisted, becoming a bizarre region where chaos and order were interwoven.

A flicker of unusual color flashed in the silver-robed leader's eyes.

"Chaos legacy... and a hint of disorder?" he murmured, a cold smile curling his lips. "Interesting. Too bad, your cultivation is too low."

He raised a hand and lightly pointed a finger forward.

A blade of silver light, as solid as substance, shot from his fingertip straight at Wang Ping. Though it appeared simple, it truly embodied the God Transformation cultivator's ultimate grasp of order—it pierces everything, imprisons everything, disintegrates everything, the true Spear of Order.

Wang Ping's pupils contracted slightly as the Heaven-Overturning Seal shot forth, instantly transforming into a massive imprint that he placed before himself.

Boom—

The Spear of Order slammed into the Heaven-Overturning Seal, erupting in blinding light. The seal shuddered violently, its chaotic runes flashing wildly as if on the verge of collapse. Wang Ping grunted, a trickle of blood escaping his lips, yet he held firm, not retreating an inch.

"Blocking one of my strikes— not bad." the silver-robed leader remarked offhandedly, as if judging an object, "But how many can you withstand?"

He raised his hand again and pointed another finger.

The second Spear of Order was stronger and faster than the first.

Wang Ping gritted his teeth, preparing to meet it head-on.

But just then—

A sword light swept past from his side.

That sword light was peerlessly sharp, its edge fully exposed, as if it could cleave all illusion. It arrived after yet struck first, colliding head-on with the second Spear of Order.

Boom—

The sword light and silver radiance exploded simultaneously.

Cang Xuan's figure was flung backward from the blast's center, retreating dozens of zhang, the tiger's mouth of his sword hand split open, blood flowing freely. Yet his eyes burned with fierce fighting spirit.

"Your opponent is not just him."

The silver-robed leader glanced at him lightly, saying nothing.

He merely lifted his other hand slightly, aimed at Cang Xuan, and made a grasping motion in the air.

In an instant, the space around Cang Xuan suddenly solidified. Countless silver runes appeared out of nowhere, forming an airtight cage that tightly trapped him.

"A mere late Nascent Soul dares to act arrogantly before a God Transformation?" the silver-robed leader's voice was icy cold—"Insignificant insect."

Cang Xuan roared and swung his sword.

The sword light struck the silver cage, leaving only a faint trace that healed instantly.

He struck again, again, again—

Each strike grew stronger and faster, yet the cage remained unmoving.

"Cang brother!" Wang Ping's heart tightened.

He wanted to go to his aid, but the burly God Transformation cultivator had already loomed before him. The burly cultivator's body was wrapped in wildly spinning silver runes, like a silver sun; each step he took made the void tremble.

"Kid, your opponent is me." the burly God Transformation cultivator grinned, his smile cruel and cold—"To die by my hand is your honor."

He threw a punch.

This punch had no flourish, only pure power—the ultimate strength bolstered by order. Where its force passed, space itself shattered into countless fragments.

Wang Ping dared not meet it head-on; he pushed the Azure Phoenix Illusion Step to its limit, narrowly dodging the blow. Yet the punch's aftershock swept over his shoulder, still shaking his qi and blood, nearly making him spit out a mouthful of blood.

At the same time, the skinny God Transformation cultivator's silver eyes locked onto him. That gaze, as tangible as substance, pierced all defenses and struck straight at his soul.

"A soul attack?" Wang Ping snorted coldly; in his sea of consciousness, the "Suppressing" divine glyph suddenly blazed forth, emanating an aura that could suppress everything.

The silver gaze and the suppressing glyph collided, both annihilated.

The skinny God Transformation cultivator's eyes flashed with an odd hue: "Soul Refining Technique? Interesting."

The silver fissure on his brow opened again, spewing forth an even more intense silver light. This time it was no longer a probe, but a full-force strike.

Wang Ping felt his soul jolt violently; the suppressing glyph trembled intensely, as if it might shatter at any moment. He gritted his teeth, desperately circulating the Soul Refining Technique to guard his sea of consciousness.

Three God Transformation cultivators acted at once.

He alone bore the brunt of it all.

But that was still not enough.

In the distance, over ten battle puppets had lunged toward Venerable Tianyan and Yu Liuli.

Venerable Tianyan hastily waved his horsetail whisk; the lingering runes surged wildly from his body, laying out a temporary defensive formation around him. Those runes interwove, forming layer upon layer of light shields that enveloped both him and Yu Liuli.

Boom—boom—boom—

The combat puppet's attack poured down on the light shield like a torrential rain. Each strike shook the shield violently; each strike caused runes to collapse and dissipate.

Tianyan Shangren's face grew paler and paler, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, yet his hands never stopped forming seals, constantly repairing the collapsing formation.

"Old man…… can I still hold on……" he murmured, his voice weak yet resolute.

Yuliuli gritted her teeth and took out a silver bell from her bosom.

The bell was palm-sized, its body flowing with silver light, its surface inscribed with countless minute runes. As soon as it appeared, it exuded an ancient and mysterious aura.

Immortal Sound Bell

The Fallen Immortal Clan's supreme treasure, passed down through generations and never revealed before, for each toll consumes a vast amount of the wielder's lifespan—hundreds of years, even a thousand.

But at this moment, Yuliuli hesitated not at all.

She closed her eyes and gently shook the Immortal Sound Bell.

"Ding-ling—"

A clear bell tone rang out, lingering.

That bell tone was like heavenly music, like celestial melody, like a mother's murmur, like a lover's whisper. It ignored distance, ignored lawful seals, ignored any defense, and pierced straight into the depths of every person's soul.

The six order-infused Netherworld cultivators all shuddered.

In their hollow silver eyes, a flicker of weak struggle appeared.

These were their residual memories from before the "reset," the last instinct of them as cultivators, forcibly awakened by the Immortal Sound Bell.

"Ding-ling—ding-ling—ding-ling—"

The bell's sound grew ever more urgent and loud. Yuliuli's visage aged at a visible pace—her black hair turned frosty, her skin wrinkled, and her once-bright eyes gradually dimmed.

But her hand kept shaking.

The struggle in the eyes of those six Netherworld cultivators grew ever more intense—some let out low roars, some trembled violently, some had their silver light and dark radiance continually alternating…

One of them suddenly raised its head and let out a long howl.

In that howl lay pain, grief, and unwillingness. The silver light in its eyes suddenly vanished, replaced by a wisp of dark purplish-black radiance.

It regained a trace of self.

It looked around blankly, at those silver silhouettes, at the three Soul Formation beings, and finally at Yuliuli, who was shaking the Immortal Sound Bell.

It seemed to understand something.

It gave no thanks, spoke no words, merely gave Yuliuli a deep look, then—

It struck its own crown of the head with a palm.

"Pfft—"

Its body burst apart with a boom.

That was self-destruction.

As a Netherworld Great Completion cultivator, it could not accept being turned into a puppet; rather than continue living in such humiliation, it—

Death.

The remaining five order-infused Netherworld cultivators likewise struggled—some followed that one's steps and self-destructed; some were subdued again by the combat puppets in their struggle; some charged madly at those silver silhouettes, hoping to drag a few down with them in their final lucidity.

Chaos ensued.

The Silver-robed Leader's face darkened, and he coldly said, "Trash."

He waved his hand, and a blade of silver light swept over the still-struggling Netherworld cultivators; wherever it passed, their struggle vanished instantly, their eyes becoming empty and dull.

But four had already perished completely.

Only two remained, barely maintaining their controlled state.

The Silver-robed Leader glanced at Yuliuli, a flicker of killing intent in his eyes.

"Even a remnant of the Fallen Immortal Clan dares to ruin my plans."

He raised his hand and pointed a finger.

A blade of silver light shot straight at Yuliuli.

Tianyan Shangren roared, expending his last strength to drive the defensive formation to its utmost. The light slammed into the formation, which shuddered violently, cracks spreading everywhere, yet it barely blocked the strike.

However, the cost was—

Tianyan Shangren spat a mouthful of blood and collapsed limp to the ground. His breath waned to the extreme, like a candle about to gutter out.

The formation was broken.

More than ten combat puppets, now unobstructed, lunged madly at Yuliuli and Tianyan Shangren.

"Old thing, die!" a puppet snarled, swinging its palm at Tianyan Shangren's head.

Just then—

A blade of silver light struck from the flank.

That was Xuanhu Furen.

She had at some point burned her last lifespan, turning into a blade of silver light that slammed hard into that puppet; the puppet was flung backward, but Xuanhu Furen herself also crashed heavily into the void.

Her left shoulder was pierced by another puppet's claw; the silver orderly power surged wildly into her body, eroding her vitality.

She struggled to lift her head, looking at Yuliuli, the corner of her mouth twitching into a weak yet cunning smile.

"Little girl…… I…… owe you a life…… last time…… you saved me…… this time……"

Before she could finish, a puppet lunged and struck her back with a palm.

Xuanhu Furen grunted, her body like a broken-kite, flying backward, blood spraying across the void.

"Milady!" Yuliuli burst into tears.

But she too had no strength left to fight.

The price of shaking the Immortal Sound Bell was too great; her lifespan had already burned away at least five hundred years, and now she lacked even the strength to stand, so she could only clutch her zither and sit limp in the void.

And the combat puppets kept coming in an endless stream.

On the other side, Moving Mountain Old Ancestor struggled to his feet.

The blood hole in his chest continued to flow with primal fluid, his aura had weakened by ninety percent compared to before, yet he remained standing.

He saw Madame Mystic Fox blown away, saw the Heavenly Derivation Elder collapse, saw Jade Liuli slump seated, saw Cang Xuan trapped, saw Wang Ping besieged by three Void God experts, danger all around.

He laughed.

That smile remained bold and unrestrained.

"Old Stone, this life of mine was worth it."

He drew a deep breath, and the shattered "Mountain Peak Core" within him ignited its last primal power with a roar.

He stepped forward, charging at the combat puppet that was lunging toward Jade Liuli.

"Get out!"

He threw a punch.

That puppet was blasted to pieces.

But another puppet had already lunged at his back.

A palm struck his back.

Moving Mountain Old Ancestor spat a mouthful of blood, staggered, but did not fall.

He turned and threw another punch.

Another puppet was blown apart.

But the third, fourth, fifth… had already rushed over at once.

"Senior Ban Shan!" Wang Ping's angry roar came from afar.

He saw Ban Shan Laozu struck simultaneously by several puppets, saw that burly body finally unable to support itself, flying backward, blood spraying across the sky.

He saw Ban Shan Laozu's final gaze directed at him, his lips twitching.

He recognized that mouth shape.

"Brother… take care…"

"No!!!"

Wang Ping's eyes were about to burst.

He could no longer hold back; his Chaos Nascent Soul burned wildly, that strand of "primal chaos" inside him erupting like a volcano. The cracks on the Overturning Seal instantly spread, the light of his Chaos Tribulation Sword tripled, his whole body like a burning meteor, he slammed fiercely into that burly Divine Transformation cultivator.

"Get lost!"

He unleashed a sword strike.

The burly Divine Transformation cultivator's expression shifted slightly, he had no choice but to dodge; this sword's power was already enough to wound him.

But Wang Ping's target was not him at all.

He took advantage of the moment this sword forced the burly Divine Transformation cultivator back, his form flickered, and he was already beside Ban Shan Laozu.

Ban Shan Laozu lay in his arms, the wound in his chest still flowing with primal fluid, his breath so weak it was barely detectable. Yet he was still alive, those eyes still open, gazing at Wang Ping.

"Little… brother…" he strained to speak, his voice broken, "I… I Old Stone… haven't… brought shame… to the Spirit Realm…"

"Senior, don't speak!" Wang Ping desperately poured his chaotic power into him, "I'll take you back! I'll take you back to the Spirit Realm!"

Ban Shan Laozu shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Can't… go back… I… I know…"

He raised his hand, trembling, pointing at the three Divine Transformation cultivators, at those puppets, at that silver-colored order seal.

"For me… kill… a few more…"

His hand fell limp.

His eyes slowly closed.

That smile at the corner of his mouth was forever frozen.

Ban Shan Laozu, fallen.

Wang Ping held his corpse, motionless.

In his eyes there were no tears, only endless, burning, near‑maddening…

Killing intent.

He gently laid down Ban Shan Laozu's corpse and slowly rose.

He turned to face the three Divine Transformation cultivators, the ten‑plus puppets, and the sky‑filling silver light.

His aura surged wildly upward.

His Chaos Nascent Soul burned, the primal chaos roared, the cracks on the Overturning Seal grew denser, and the light of his Chaos Tribulation Sword shone brighter.

He no longer cared.

What star map, what jade disc, what mission——

He only wanted one thing.

Kill.

"Interesting." The silver‑robed leader glanced at him, his eyes still cold, "Burning your Nascent Soul? Giving it your all? Too bad, in the face of absolute strength, even giving it your all is just futile."

He raised his hand and pointed a finger forward.

The spear of order shot forth.

Wang Ping did not dodge or evade, he unleashed a sword strike.

The sword light and the silver radiance collided, both annihilated.

He did not retreat a single step.

The silver‑robed leader's brow furrowed slightly, then he pointed another finger forward.

The second, third, fourth……

The Spear of Order poured down like a violent rainstorm.

Wang Ping met sword with sword, shattering one order after another. But blood flowed uncontrollably from the corner of his mouth; his tiger's mouth was split open, bloody and mangled; his Chaos Nascent Soul had burned more than half away.

He knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

He didn't care.

He only wanted to strike one more sword before he fell.

One more sword.

The silver‑robed leader looked at him, and finally a hint of impatience flashed in his eyes.

"Enough."

He raised his hand and slammed down a palm.

This palm was no longer a probe, no longer a jest, but a true full‑force strike. The palm imprint blotted out the sky, brilliant silver light blazing, and wherever it passed, even the void solidified and collapsed.

Wang Ping raised his head, watching that palm imprint slowly press down.

He wanted to dodge, but his body would no longer obey. He wanted to block, but the Heaven‑overturning Seal was covered in cracks, and the light of the Chaos Calamity Sword had dimmed. He……

He could do nothing at all.

He simply stood still, gazing at the palm imprint, his eyes devoid of fear, filled only with calm.

"Mountain‑moving Senior… I've come to keep you company…"

He closed his eyes.

However——

At this critical moment, the void suddenly shuddered violently.

A huge tear ripped open before Wang Ping.

That rift was not silver, but chaos‑colored—gray mist roiled within, within which countless fragments of law could be seen flowing, annihilating, and reborn. At its edges, space itself crumbled and dissolved, as if unable to bear the descent of that power.

A hand reached out from the rift.

That hand was immeasurably huge, blotting out sky and sun, its whole body shrouded in chaos mist. Each finger was like a mountain, each palm line like a river of law. With a light grasp it seized the silver‑robed leader's palm imprint, capable of destroying stars, and held it in its palm.

Then it gave a light squeeze.

"Crack—"

The palm imprint shattered, turning into countless specks of silver light that dissipated into nothing.

A majestic voice echoed from the depths of the rift, resounding throughout the void.

"Those who offend the Spirit Realm—"

"Die!"

The silver‑robed leader's face instantly turned ashen.

He recognized that aura.

Perfected Spirit Transformation.

True Perfected Spirit Transformation, a half‑step toward Union!

From the rift, a figure slowly stepped out.

It was an old man.

He wore gray‑white Daoist robes, his hair and beard white, his face gaunt, appearing ordinary. But his eyes were like two seas of chaos stars, deep enough that one dared not meet his gaze. Chaos mist curled around him, and with each step the void trembled slightly, as if paying homage to the being about to step into Union.

Ninth Dao Institute Spirit Transformation Stage Instructor—Jiang Haiyun.

The astonishing junior of Sect Leader Jiang Mingyuan, the Spirit Realm's acknowledged 'Number One Spirit Transformation', who had secluded himself for a hundred years merely to glimpse the secret of Union.

He has emerged from seclusion.

He crossed realms and came, attacking in fury.

With one palm he crushed the full‑force strike of an early‑stage Spirit Transformation cultivator.

That pressure made everyone—including the three silver‑robed Spirit Transformations—tremble with fear, nearly forcing them to kneel.

"Jiang… Jiang Haiyun!" the silver‑robed leader cried out in shock, his eyes full of fear, "You… you weren't supposed to be dead in seclusion?!"

Jiang Haiyun glanced at him indifferently, as if looking at an ant.

"Just because I'm in seclusion doesn't mean I can't come out?"

He slowly raised his hand, chaos mist roiling in his palm.

"Three thousand years ago, I once crossed blows with your Pure World Court. Back then you didn't dare set even a foot in the Spirit Realm. Now your gall has grown."

He took a step forward and stood before the silver‑robed leader.

The silver‑robed leader wanted to flee, but his body seemed immobilized, unable to move. This was the pressure of Perfected Spirit Transformation, the terror of a half‑step toward Union, the gap in quality.

"Mercy……" he tried to beg for mercy.

But Jiang Haiyun gave him no chance.

He slammed down a palm.

The silver‑robed leader let out a miserable scream, his whole body flung like a mosquito struck by a hammer, flying tens of li while blood spurted wildly. The silver robe on his chest exploded, revealing a deep wound down to the bone, from which silver light surged madly—his origin power was rapidly draining away.

One palm, heavy injury.

The silver‑robed leader struggled to his feet, eyes full of terror and despair. He looked toward the tall and sturdy Spirit Transformation and the slender Spirit Transformation, hoping to call for aid, but saw that their faces were likewise ashen like death.

Because, two more rifts tore open simultaneously in the void.

From one rift strode a burly, naked‑to‑the‑waist man, his muscles knotted, violent thunder power coiling around him. He grinned wildly, his smile arrogant and domineering, as if heaven and earth trembled beneath his thunder.

"Hahaha! Old Lei's here! You brats of the Pure World Court, don't run!"

Spirit Realm Thunder Prison Valley Lord—Lei Wantiang. Late‑stage Spirit Transformation.

From the other rift stepped a white‑clad woman, her visage cold and aloof, her aura ethereal, faint moonlight power swirling around her. Her gaze swept over the three silver‑robed Spirit Transformations, as if looking at three corpses.

Those who trespass the border of the Spirit Realm and injure its cultivators——

They shall be executed!

Supreme Elder of the Profound Ice Palace—Ice Moon Fairy. Late-stage Transformation God.

Three entities at late-stage Transformation God or above appeared simultaneously.

Three waves of pressure, like three primordial divine mountains, pressed toward the three silver-robed Transformation Gods.

The silver-robed leader's face drained completely of color.

The burly and slim Transformation Gods behind him likewise had trembling legs, nearly kneeling.

Three early-stage Transformation Gods versus one perfected Transformation God plus two late-stage Transformation Gods.

This is not a battle.

This is a slaughter.

"Go!" the silver-robed leader shouted, unwilling to spare his essence and blood, madly rending the void.

The other two Transformation Gods likewise fought desperately, three beams of silver light bursting simultaneously in an attempt to escape.

But Jiang Haiyun merely raised his hand lightly and gently clenched.

"Seal."

A chaotic-colored light barrier instantly covered a hundred-mile radius. Upon it, countless laws flowed, faintly forming a massive seal formation——that is the "Chaos-Sealing Heaven Formation" that can be laid down only by a half-step Unity cultivator.

The silver-robed leader struck the barrier and was heavily rebounded. He struggled desperately, striking again and again, but each time was mercilessly bounced back.

Jiang Haiyun looked at him, his eyes devoid of pity, only calm.

"Thirty thousand years ago, you could not kill me. Thirty thousand years later, you are even less a match for me."

He raised his hand and struck down with a palm.

Lei Wanting and Ice Moon Fairy acted simultaneously.

Three entities at late-stage Transformation God or above unleashed three forces capable of destroying heaven and earth, simultaneously blasting toward the three silver-robed Transformation Gods.

The void, at this moment, collapsed completely.

The silver-robed leader's anguished cry lasted only half a breath.

Then everything returned to peace.

The silver light dissipated, the power of order obliterated. Three early-stage Transformation Gods, three invincible envoys of the Purifying World Court, were thus wiped out by a single palm, leaving no room for resistance.

Those battle puppets, having lost their master's control, instantly ceased motion, hovering in the void like statues.

The two remaining Order-infused Netherworld Clan cultivators also turned to flying ash under Ice Moon Fairy's casual sweep.

The battle ended.

Jiang Haiyun lowered his hand, turned, and looked at Wang Ping.

"Instructor…… Mountain-moving Senior…… he……"

He could not continue.

Jiang Haiyun remained silent.

After a long while, he let out a soft sigh, walked to the corpse of the Mountain-moving Ancestor, bent over, and gently closed those eyes that still stared open.

"I know. He was splendid, not disgracing the Spirit Realm."

Lei Wanting strode over, gazed at the corpse of the Mountain-moving Ancestor, the smile on his face vanishing, replaced by solemnity and grief.

"That Mountain-moving lad…… is he really gone?"

No one answered.

He fell silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a long sigh to the heavens.

"Old Lei owes him a favor. Three years ago, he saved my disciple. Now……"

He closed his eyes and said no more.

Ice Moon Fairy drifted over, her gaze sweeping across the crowd, finally resting on Wang Ping.

"You are the junior who fused with the Profound Darkness True Soul?"

Wang Ping raised his head, looked at this Supreme Elder of the Profound Ice Palace, and gave a slight nod.

"Junior Wang Ping, I have paid my respects to you, Senior."

Ice Moon Fairy stared at him for a moment, then softly said: "Qingxue girl, you did not misjudge."

She raised her hand; a stream of Moonlight Power entered the Black Fox Lady's body. The Black Fox Lady's breath immediately steadied, although still weak, her life was no longer in danger.

"She is badly wounded but will not die." Ice Moon Fairy said lightly, "Return and tend to her well; in three to five years she can recover fully."

She then turned to the Heavenly Expansion Venerable; likewise, a stream of Moonlight Power entered him. The Venerable's pallid complexion finally regained a hint of color.

Jiang Haiyun walked up to Wang Ping's side and lightly patted his shoulder.

"Get up. Child, you have done well."

Wang Ping slowly rose, looking at Jiang Haiyun, his eyes full of fatigue and sorrow.

"Uncle-master, we…… we brought back the star chart and jade disc. That information…… is terrifying. The power of the Purifying World Court far exceeds our imagination. They……

Jiang Haiyun raised his hand, cutting him off.

"I know. What you experienced in the Law Corridor, I have some understanding of. The information on those scrolls, I have also seen parts of."

He paused, his eyes deep as the sea.

"Thirty thousand years ago, I once clashed with the Purifying World Court. Back then they merely operated in the shadows, daring not to show themselves openly. Now……

He let out a soft sigh.

"They can no longer restrain themselves."

Lei Wanting said in a deep voice: "Old Jiang, talking about this now is useless. First bring the children back and settle them, then we can plan further."

Ice Moon Fairy nodded: "Not bad. They need rest, and that intelligence also needs to be organized. Moreover……

She looked toward the direction where the three silver-robed Void Gods had fallen, a flash of cold light crossing her eyes.

"The Pure World Court lost three Void Gods and will not let it rest. Next, the Spirit Realm is likely to face a true storm."

Jiang Haiyun nodded, waved his hand, and a strand of chaotic light enveloped Wang Ping and the others, as well as the corpse of Ban Shan Lao Zu.

"Go. Go home."

The chaotic light flashed, and everyone vanished into the void.

Only the wreckage of the three fallen silver-robed Void Gods remained, along with the motionless battle puppets drifting silently in the void.

A bitter battle thus came to an end.

But everyone knew——

The true storm had only just begun.

And Ban Shan Lao Zu's heroic smile, that cry of "Take care, brother," would forever be etched in every survivor's heart, becoming their strength to press on.