Chapter 263: Calamity Descends

The afterglow of the gluttonous feast has not yet faded.

Wang Zhitao, satisfied, patted his belly, let out a long belch, a pure energy aura spilled from his mouth, then he subconsciously inhaled it back, wasting not a trace.

"I'm full, really full." He slumped on the ground, a face of bliss, "Brother, the taste of a Nascent Soul cultivator is different, strong, with chew. It's just… after eating I feel a bit drowsy."

He could feel the newly formed black‑gold runes in his body, like fish drunk on wine, merrily darting through his limbs and bones; each movement caused an indescribable metamorphosis of his sinews and flesh.

His strength is settling.

Unlike his brother's satiated state, Wang Zhize's condition looked far from good.

He sat cross‑legged, his complexion as white as paper, cold sweat on his forehead sliding down his cheeks, looking as if he had just been pulled from water.

Swallowing all the memories and law insights of a Nascent Soul cultivator, for him, was no less than trying to drink an entire ocean of information with a straw.

Chaotic, disordered, ferocious.

Countless shattered images and sharp roars collided within his spirit, and he had to endure the soul‑tearing pain, sifting valuable bits from this information junkyard.

"Brother? Are you okay? Maybe… spit some out? I could have another bite."

Wang Zhitao looked at his brother's distressed face, leaned over with some worry, and earnestly offered his suggestion.

Wang Zhize almost lost his breath, giving his brother a helpless stare.

"What I digest is different from what you ate," he finally caught his breath, forcibly suppressing and sealing those useless memory fragments.

Though the process was painful, the gain was enormous.

"Shadow…"

"Imperial Court…"

"Lord…"

He locked onto several keywords. He saw a vague silhouette seated high upon a throne, and also the iron‑like hierarchical structure of the Shadow organization.

The Executor devoured by his brother, within this massive dark‑sector machine, was merely a discardable component.

The most valuable loot was the communication rune hidden deep within the Executor's spirit, not yet activated.

Now it lay quietly under Wang Zhize's control.

Destroy it?

No.

A thought formed in Wang Zhize's mind. This thing is a perfect… bait.

A faint smile flickered on his pale face as he said to his brother, "This feast tastes pretty good."

"Of course! The main course is that powerful!" Wang Zhitao proudly puffed out his chest.

"No." Wang Zhize shook his head, his gaze deepening, "At most, this is just an appetizer."

He looked up, his eyes seeming to pierce the barriers of space, gazing into the endless void.

"The real main course is still ahead."

The words fell, and a sudden anomaly erupted.

The embryonic Divine Kingdom quivered without warning.

It wasn't the earlier brute‑force shock, but a deeper tremor emanating from its foundation.

An aura utterly different from the Nascent Soul Executor seeped in from the Outside World.

If the Executor's aura was a raging sandstorm intent on annihilating everything,

then the aura arriving now is cold, eerie, bearing pure malice aimed at the very "concept" itself.

Like an invisible, toxin‑tempered scalpel, it precisely seeks the newborn world's weak points, attempting a living dissection from the root of the laws.

Not just one!

It's three!

Three powerful, pure yet independent cold energies, from three different directions, silently enveloped the entire Divine Kingdom.

Wang Zhize's pupils narrowed slightly.

From the chaotic memory fragments, he instantly recognized the source of this aura.

"Calamity-level Shadow Guard…"

He murmured to himself, his tone indistinguishable between excitement and solemnity.

"Finally arrived."

…

In the void beyond the Divine Kingdom, three silhouettes materialized out of thin air, as if they had always stood there.

Leading them was a gaunt elder with sunken eyes, clad in a gray robe, surrounded by visible gray currents.

It was not magic but the pure Withering law. Where he stood, even the void's darkness seemed lifeless, deadened.

To his left stood a woman shrouded in a black cloak, ethereal, her features blurred.

She stood silently, yet exuded a strong sense of dissonance, as if she could vanish from this world at any moment, erasing everything around her.

This is the Void law.

On the right was a mountain‑massive hulking man, his bronze skin etched with strange patterns.

He was bare‑chested, silently hovering, yet the space beneath his feet constantly twisted and collapsed, as if bearing unimaginable weight. This is the Heavy Pressure law.

"The Executor's aura has vanished," the gaunt elder rasped, his voice like two sandpapers grinding.

"It was 'eaten' away," the Void woman said, her voice ethereal and emotionless, "This 'space' is far more interesting than the reports described."

"Interesting?" the hulking man drawled, a hint of contempt in his voice, "No matter how interesting the cage, it's still a cage. One punch can shatter it."

A weighty glint flashed in the gaunt elder's deep sockets: "If you can devour an Executor, it cannot be treated as an ordinary cage. The Lord wants us… to crush it, letting what's inside die in despair. Begin."

As soon as he finished speaking, he lifted his withered finger and lightly tapped the embryonic Divine Kingdom ahead.

A gray "Withering Light" silently shot out.

It lacks earth‑shattering might, yet it stains everything along its path with decaying twilight aura, its target aimed straight at the foundational laws of the nascent Divine Nation.

At the same time, the Void Woman also extended her slender finger, drawing a circle in the air.

An invisible, formless ripple spread outward; wherever it passed, all connections between the Divine Nation and the Outside World were forcibly severed and erased, as if to "pluck" it out of the entire world.

The burly strong man's action was the most direct.

He inhaled sharply, his chest ballooning high, then hurled a fist with a thunderous blow!

No light, no roar.

Only the pure Heavy Pressure Principle coalesced into an invisible gravity singularity, smashing down mercilessly onto the Divine Nation!

Three Calamities, three killing blows each targeting a different aspect!

Inside the Divine Nation.

Wang Zhitao's sudden drowsiness vanished in an instant of shock; he sprang to his feet, not out of fear, but because… hunger!

An unprecedented hunger erupted from every cell of his body!

"Brother! Brother! A feast! This is a full Manchu‑Han banquet!" He babbled excitedly, eyes shining as he stared outward, saliva nearly spilling, "That gray one, it smells sweet‑sour! That invisible one, it melts the moment it hits the tongue! And that big chunk, surely crunchy, chicken‑flavored!"

Wang Zhize, however, paid no heed to his gourmand younger brother.

His expression grew solemn; the purity and magnitude of these three forces were far beyond what that noisy executor had just displayed.

But he is the master of this world.

Wang Zhize slowly raised his hand, the jade tablet in his grasp emitting a gentle glow.

Facing the Withering Light that corroded the foundation, he simply gave a light flick in the air.

"Redirect."

The gray beam seemed forcibly twisted by an invisible hand, veering at a bizarre angle, skimming the Divine Nation's barrier before shooting out toward its own master!

The Withered Elder's face darkened; he swept his sleeve, dispersing the Counter‑Devouring power.

And the Void Wave that sought to erase everything—Wang Zhize didn't even glance at it, merely shifted his thought.

"Exile."

A barely perceptible vortex appeared on the Divine Nation's barrier, swallowing the wave whole before hurling it into the unknown void depths.

As for the Heavy Pressure Principle capable of crushing everything…

Wang Zhize watched the invisible gravity singularity about to strike, a cold curve lifting his mouth.

"Solidify."

"Dong!"

A muffled thud.

On the Divine Nation's outer wall, a massive, black‑iron‑solidified fist‑print relief materialized out of nowhere, eternally nailing the raging law force onto its own "wall," becoming a tasteful ornament.

The first clash was light as clouds and breezy, the superiority instantly evident.

The Outside World's three Calamity Shadow Guards showed surprise on their faces for the first time.

The Withered Elder's gaze turned exceedingly grim; he hadn't expected the opponent's counter to be so effortlessly artistic.

He abandoned further probing; a cold Divine Thought pierced the spatial barrier, resonating directly in the minds of the two Wang brothers:

"Wang Shan, you think forging yourself into this shabby tomb can protect your grandson? Stop dreaming. Today, this tomb of yours, along with your precious grandson, will be ground into powder inch by inch by us!"

The Divine Thought was filled with lofty contempt and cruelty.

Wang Zhitao, after listening, scratched his head and asked his brother, "Brother, what is he saying? Sounds like he's scolding grandpa."

A flash of cold light flickered in Wang Zhize's eyes and vanished.

He likewise responded with thought; his voice was so calm it bore no ripple, yet it carried a murderous intent that chilled the hearts of all three Calamities.

That thought rang in their minds:

"You arrived just in time."

"The banquet is set, awaiting the three of you."