Chapter 255: New Threat

Wang Zhitao idly squatted on the ground, poking a freshly "renovated" patch of floor with his finger.

The ground had originally been rough rock, but now it was smooth as a mirror, even bearing a faint warm jade texture.

"Brother."

"Hmm?" Wang Zhize didn't lift his head; his entire mind was immersed in the jade tablet in his hand, his fingertips tracing arcane paths in the air, mobilizing the law forces of the whole space to gradually perfect and reinforce the Core Area fashioned by Grandpa Wang Shan.

"What does this ground… taste like?" Wang Zhitao asked earnestly.

Wang Zhize's movement paused, finally emerging from that near‑"Creation" wondrous state, looking at his brother with a puzzled expression: "What flavor does the ground have?"

"Sure!" Wang Zhitao declared confidently, "The earlier 'Termination' law was sharp and spicy, like gulping a big mouthful of Spirit Wine—thrilling! Later the 'Withering' law was a bit bitter, but its aftertaste had a hint of sweetness, like… like bitter melon? Anyway, this ground just has a bland earthy smell, no vigor."

Since he could directly devour laws, Wang Zhitao's worldview had been completely reshaped. Everything seemed to turn into dishes of various flavors in his eyes.

Wang Zhize massaged his brow, feeling that communicating with this brother sometimes was more exhausting than combing through tens of thousands of law runes.

"That has been fully assimilated and reshaped by Grandpa and my power, already part of our 'family', so of course it has no taste. If you want to eat, you must eat something foreign."

"When will there be foreign things to eat?" Wang Zhitao asked pitifully, "I feel my 'Primordial Devourer Body' is hungry again; it's being very picky now, dismissing ordinary energy, just wanting to gnaw on hard bones."

Wang Zhize was about to say, "There aren't that many hard bones for you to gnaw," when his palm gripping the jade tablet tightened suddenly.

The entire space, the embryonic divine realm built jointly by three generations of ancestors, quivered ever so slightly at that instant.

The tremor wasn't an energy shock, but a deeper, law‑level discord. It was like a harsh, completely out‑of‑time noise crashing into an otherwise harmonious melody.

"What's wrong?" Wang Zhitao instantly stood up; the Primordial Devourer Body's instinct within him sensed a threat, a feeling akin to herbivores catching the scent of a top predator. It wasn't hunger, but a life‑instinctual vigilance.

Wang Zhize said nothing; he closed his eyes, his divine thought passing through the jade tablet, instantly extending to every corner of the space, even reaching the outermost chaotic boundary.

The next second, his pupils abruptly contracted.

In his perception, outside the space, several powerful auras, like a few red‑hot branding irons, were brazenly pressing onto their "ice" area.

Each of the three auras was stronger and more refined than the Shadow Guard Captain they had previously devoured. They were true late Golden Core elites, battle‑hardened and decisive.

But that wasn't the most terrifying.

Ahead of those three auras lay an even more dreadful presence.

It wasn't a point, but an entire "area".

If a Golden Core cultivator's aura is a branding iron, this aura is a moving volcano. It doesn't deliberately exude pressure, yet its very existence warps everything around it. Its mere hovering makes Wang Zhize feel the laws of this space moan in pain.

"Brother?" Wang Zhitao looked at Wang Zhize's expression, his heart thudding. His older brother, who was always unflappable like a mountain before a collapse, now showed a gravity he had never seen.

"This is a big trouble," Wang Zhize opened his eyes, his voice a bit hoarse.

He waved his hand, and the air before them rippled like water, revealing a vague scene to both. It was an external image fed back through spatial law.

Three Shadow Guards clad in black robes stood in a Faction Formation, and before them, a figure also in a black robe, its garment embroidered with intricate gold thread patterns, stood with both hands poised.

"Those black‑clad guys again!" Wang Zhitao gritted his teeth, "The last few weren't enough to eat; are they bringing more dishes this time?"

"This time… I'm afraid they're here to smash our pot," Wang Zhize's gaze locked onto the leading figure, "Three late Golden Core ones, not the same tier as those riff‑raff last time. The key is… the one in front."

"Is he strong?"

"Strong?" Wang Zhize chuckled self‑deprecatingly, "We're like frogs at the bottom of a well, and he's the one looking down from the well's mouth. He's a Nascent Soul cultivator."

Nascent Soul!

Those three characters felt like three mountains, instantly pressing on Wang Zhitao's heart. Though he was carefree, he understood the cultivation ranks. Golden Core and Nascent Soul are fundamental leaps in life's hierarchy, essentially two different species.

"Not just him," Wang Zhize's gaze shifted to the treasures held by the three Golden Core Shadow Guards.

They weren't flying swords nor seals, but three oddly shaped objects resembling musical instruments: one like a horn, one like a chime, and another like a twisted harp.

They made no sound, yet in Wang Zhize's law perception, the three treasures were "singing" loudly.

They were jointly performing a piece imbued with the wills of "Decay", "Termination", and "Disintegration". This piece wasn't transmitted by sound but acted directly on the law level, clashing sharply with the newborn world's foundational tones of "vitality", "stability", and "creation".

"What are they doing?" Wang Zhitao asked, unable to grasp their purpose.

"They're 'deconstructing' us," Wang Zhize explained haltingly, "They know Grandpa turned himself into a divine realm; conventional attacks can't break it. So they've brought treasures that target the laws. They're not trying to brute‑force open our doors; they're dismantling our foundation, walls, and beams, piece by piece, from the ground up!"

Before his words finished, the entire space shivered again.

This time the tremor was far more violent. Not far away, Li Hu and Zhang Mei, who had been meditating, were jolted awake.

"What's happening? An earthquake?" Li Hu sprang up with a start, looking around bewildered, "Zhize, why is this cave dwelling shaking so violently?"

Zhang Mei also looked uneasy at Wang Zhize, feeling the air saturated with a heart‑pounding oppression.

"It's fine," Wang Zhize said without turning his head, his voice unusually steady, "The inheritance has reached a critical point; the energy is a bit unstable. You two stay where you are and don't move recklessly."

His calm reassured Li Hu and Zhang Mei; they exchanged a glance, still worried, but obediently sat back down.

Wang Zhitao, however, wasn't so easily placated; he stared intently at the image, his Adam's apple moving up and down.

"Brother, that Nascent Soul… smells… so fragrant," he licked his lips, his gaze both greedy and deeply wary, "But it also feels like this dish contains lethal poison that could kill me entirely."

"He's not a dish; he's the chef. We are the meat on his cutting board," Wang Zhize dismissed the image, not wanting that aura to disturb Li Hu and the others.

He could feel Grandpa's Core working at full power, repelling external law erosion. Yet the opponent was like an experienced demolition crew, always finding the weakest load‑bearing wall and destroying it with minimal effort.

"What do we do? Charge out and fight them!" Wang Zhitao clenched his fist, the black‑gold tattoo faintly visible under his skin, "My Primordial Devourer Body now feeds exclusively on laws! No matter the Nascent Soul, I'll devour it in one bite…"

"And then?" Wang Zhize interrupted, "If you charge out and sink your teeth into that Nascent Soul, those three Golden Core treasures will instantly turn our home into ruins. What about Grandpa? What about Li Hu and Zhang Mei?"

Wang Zhitao was choked up.

"Our greatest advantage is this home," Wang Zhize said, looking at his brother, his gaze sharp, "Here, Grandpa is our backing, we are Grandpa's blade. If we go out, we become rootless floating duckweed."

"Then… they just keep tearing it down outside?" Wang Zhitao panicked.

"Of course not."

A sudden upward twitch at Wang Zhize's mouth wasn't a smile but a cold, wildly battle‑fueled curve.

"When guests arrive, there's no reason not to invite them in."

He slowly raised the jade tablet, and the law power of the entire space began to converge into his palm.

"Since they intend to tear down our home, we'll turn the home into a meat grinder. They'll have a way in, but no way out."

Just then, a piercing, glass‑shattering sound rang out overhead.

A black crack, visible to the naked eye, materialized out of thin air, and a wisp of ruinous aura seeped from the fissure; wherever it passed, the freshly revitalized ground instantly turned withered, yellow, and fissured.

The enemy's attack has already breached the first layer of defense.