Chapter 882: Command Envoy?!

This is the source of that red eye just now!

It is not Abundance Pollution at all, nor a regular demonic Yin body seal; it is a complete Abundance Giant Tree, compressed into a tiny fold deep within the consciousness and then unfolded!

But how could that be possible?

Within the mental space of a tiny Tai Bu Si Diviner, there hides a giant tree capable of directly confronting a Command Envoy‑rank Abundance Creation, yet this person is still walking, talking, goofing off, and playing cards as usual?

That defies logic!

Before her thoughts could deepen, a vast aura surged from behind her.

It was so massive that this golden realm itself began to tremble, the sea surface roared with unprecedented raging waves, and golden light patterns shattered into countless leaping shards of light.

The golden particles in the air were scattered by this aura; the giant tree's trunk, bearing tens of millions of eyes, all turned at once toward Huan Long's back, their pupils shrinking to needle‑tip dots.

Huan Long turned around.

The entire sky behind was filled.

It's Bubbles!

Countless azure‑blue Bubbles, ranging in size from a fist to a wheel, were packed tightly, stacked from the water's surface up to the dome of the heavens, covering every corner within her sight.

The surface of the Bubbles bore flowing bi‑color azure light patterns, constantly shifting shape—sometimes like star trails, sometimes like feathered wings, sometimes like some ancient rune.

Each Bubble reflected the silhouette of the giant tree, the shadow of the sky‑filled golden light, and her own silhouette.

The whole scene was folded into innumerable tiny copies, flashing simultaneously within each Bubble.

And at the very center of this Bubble sea, at the farthest point her eyes could reach, stood a figure.

Too far away to see the face, only a vague outline was visible: ash‑white long hair fluttering in the golden wind, asymmetrical wide sleeves rustling, the posture as straight as a sword.

That stance was not the lazy poise of a Tai Bu Si Diviner, but something older, more composed, the aura of a true general!

Then behind that figure, an even larger outline appeared.

The outline slowly emerged from the void, as if squeezed in through a rift from another dimension into this realm.

So massive that even the giant tree seemed tiny, so massive that the golden dome was forced upward by a span.

It was a semi‑transparent phantom, its body's outline faintly discernible in the air, as if assembled from distant starlight.

Yet the bow was crystal clear, massive enough to span half the sky; blue light streamed along its limbs like water, sliding from one end to the other, each inch it passed igniting a string of star‑trail‑like runes.

The bowstring was already drawn.

A light arrow was nocked on the string, its tip aimed at the canopy of the giant tree.

Huan Long recognized that phantom.

Throughout the universe, only one Star God manifests power in the form of a bow.

Patrol Hunt—Imperial Bow—Storm!

Deep within the consciousness of a tiny Tai Bu Si Diviner, both the complete embodiment of the Abundance Giant Tree and the genuine gaze of the Patrol Hunt Star God co‑existed.

And the Diviner himself, standing in the posture of a general at the center of the Bubble sea, stood before the Patrol Hunt phantom, his ash‑white hair lifted by the golden wind, his robe's hem rustling.

Huan Long stood at the very center of it all, with the giant tree—tens of millions of eyes staring—on the left, and billions of Bubbles and the Patrol Hunt bow and arrow on the right; the golden water beneath his feet was torn by the two forces, scattering shards of light.

Her face, never before faltering before outsiders, showed a slight looseness in that instant.

Perspective shift.

Qingque crouched on the ground, looking at herself in the mirror, left hand propping her chin, right hand unconsciously fiddling with a wilted flower branch hanging from her shoulder.

She poked the half‑opened bud on the branch; it trembled, and a dry gray‑purple petal fell off.

She stared as the petal drifted to the ground, her mouth turning down, then reached out to poke again.

Amazing!

Another one fell.

How is that possible?

Clearly even the self outside the mirror can't be seen.

Qingque's current posture was probably not very graceful, crouching in the middle of the stone road in the quarantine zone; beside her stood Huo Huo's unretracted mercury mirror, reflecting a gray‑white long‑haired creature poking its own wilted flower, and she herself had grown somewhat numb to it.

"Poke once, one falls; poke twice, two fall."

She muttered softly, then remembered that others couldn't understand her words.

Never mind, anyway no one heard.

She went for a third poke; this time the bud detached entirely, tumbling to the ground and shattering at her feet into a small clump of gray‑purple powder.

Qingque stared at the powder for a moment, sighed, and her shoulders slumped.

Huo Huo had held that pose for a while, one hand pressed to her forehead, the other gripping the Command Flag hanging at her side, eyes closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

Although Qingque didn't know exactly what the little Judge was doing, she could guess from the look: not going well.

Just as she was about to lower her head and continue poking another bud, Huo Huo's body suddenly jolted.

She stepped back.

Then a second step, a third, retreating quickly and fiercely; her form flickered slightly during the retreat, like a projector signal wavering, edges blurring for an instant, revealing the color of the stone behind, then solidifying again.

Qingque's hand that was poking the bud stopped.

She lifted her head, her jade‑green almond eyes widening, her mouth silently forming a "ho" shape.

That flicker Huo Huo just had.

"Projection?"

Qingque's mouth turned down.

First the General's clamping sound chased her, then Lady Dragon demanded a duel, then Xueyi Judge pointed at her calling her a Abundance Offspring, and now even Huo Huo is flickering.

Everyone she met today was pushing down the lower bound of her cognition of this world.

Then she heard a mutter leak from Huo Huo's lips.

Hoarse and vague, like a bubble struggling up from the deepest layers of consciousness—"Command Envoy…"

Qingque tilted her head.

What?

Imperial envoy?

Who?

Where?

She instinctively looked left and right; on the left was a demonic shadow kneeling on the ground, on the right was a mercury mirror still emitting a faint golden halo, and behind her was the empty, desolate street of the sealed‑off district.

There was no imperial envoy.

At least she saw nothing that could be connected to the term "imperial envoy".

Huo Huo pressed her hand to her forehead, slipping a finger under her pale green bangs; her knuckles turned slightly white, as if she had used great force to push something back into her mind.

She slowly lifted her head.

Those eyes opened.