The Ancient Gods' Whisper

Even with Tang Ling by his side, there was no chance of victory.

"Time is tight tonight. I don't want to waste it on you two little ones. Don't even think about resorting to something like self-detonation—it won't work. You won't die because I'll keep you alive."

Beneath the streetlights, Li Qingsong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, speaking indifferently: "Until the day I decipher the Evolution Path."

Boom!

A violent snowstorm descended from the sky, accompanied by howling gales that seemed to sweep in from the edges of the world. Ice crystals and snowflakes swirled together, roaring like a rampaging lion aiming to pulverize everything in its path!

West Port vanished.

The harbor was gone, too.

In their place arose an icy expanse, glacial plains and snowy peaks erupting skyward.

It was bone-chillingly cold.

"Why aren't you dead from old age yet?"

Vermilion light glimmered coldly in Tang Ling's pupils. At this moment, a trace of madness surged within her, as though her very soul had been displaced by some monstrous force. Her terrifying aura climbed higher and higher.

The Extreme Thunder Great Sword in her hands began to tremble as well. Crimson lightning pulsed through the cracks in its blade, as if awakening from a deep slumber.

And it wasn't just her.

Gu Jianlin, too, was trying to awaken the Black Qilin within him. Though channeling the Supreme's power in the real world would exact a devastating price, there was no alternative—he had to stake everything on this final gambit.

Suddenly, the Saint of Day materialized before him in a flash, extending a single finger toward his forehead.

Boom!

Gu Jianlin heard the sound of the world shattering, and in an instant, the spirituality within him scattered.

The Saint of Night also advanced in a blur, snapping his fingers.

Tang Ling's Extreme Thunder Great Sword emitted a fracture-like groan, and the crimson lightning extinguished in an instant.

This was the difference in power!

"It seems you have many secrets!"

Li Qingsong, with his hands still clasped behind him, spoke calmly: "Now I'm even more curious—what are your true identities?"

The swirling blizzard was about to bury the faces of the young man and woman.

Like the crushing weight of the deep sea, the oppressive force rendered them immobile.

And then, in that fleeting instant—

A figure suddenly stepped in front of them, raising a hand gently, pushing forward!

Roar!

The storm-laden sky tore apart abruptly as an azure Qilin bellowed toward the heavens, reigning over the world!

Its deafening roar shattered the silent night, obliterating the snowstorm into scattering fragments.

Li Qingsong spat a mouthful of fresh blood. On his chest appeared a massive handprint, caving his torso inward. Cracks rippled across the glaciers and snowy peaks before collapsing in resounding destruction!

The Saints of Night and Day froze in terror, but the thunderous roar of celestial lightning filled their ears.

"Kneel!"

Thud!

Li Qingsong fell to his knees, the ice beneath shattering under the impact, blood surging from his body.

The Saints of Night and Day, unable to muster any resistance, collapsed to their knees as well, blood streaming from all seven orifices. Their bones groaned under the immense strain, snapping who knew how many.

"Who granted you such audacity?"

The figure pushed forward again with a hand. "Hmm?"

The three Saints slid backward across the icy surface, only for a Cross Iron Sword to descend from the heavens, piercing their chests. Pale Ghost Fire ignited along the blade, eliciting horrifying, guttural screams as they howled in agony.

Amidst the roaring gales, Gu Jianlin, snapping out of his daze, tilted his head upward in disbelieving awe.

Tang Ling, too, stood frozen, her bangs softly fluttering.

It appeared to be a phantom silhouette—so ancient, yet towering and majestic.

Amid the frosty, bone-chilling winds, it stood motionless and unyielding.

Like a god, propping up the sky and trampling the earth underfoot.

The azure Qilin coiled above the firmament, unleashing a soul-stirring roar.

"This is…"

Tang Ling's teacher, also a Catastrophe, had never displayed such transcendent power in their teaching throughout the past decade—a force as though it pierced the heavens and stood atop the earth.

How could you embody the essence of the Qilin Venerable even more than I imagined?

Gu Jianlin spoke softly, "Teacher."

"To be precise, this should count as our first real conversation, shouldn't it?"

Huai Yin, their hands clasped behind, turned back with a faint smile and said, "Jing Ci once mentioned that the third lesson I'd teach you is called 'choice.' After tonight, you must decide—will you become my student or not?"

The silhouette grew taller and taller, seemingly blotting out the heavens as it ascended beyond the ninth heaven.

With just a single glance, this image seared itself deeply into Gu Jianlin's memory.

Even countless years later, when recalling this moment, it would still shake him to the core, stirring his soul.

At that moment, Gu Jianlin suddenly realized who the sky-high silhouette was, the one he had seen when he first chose his Inheritance Path.

[PS: What are you imagining? The King of Qing hasn't been around for long—he's still got at least two more years of life. Don't jinx him…]