klisemfg Chapter 1942
Chapter 1942
Taking a deep breath, Chen Xuan suppressed the shock in his heart and scanned his surroundings again. Eight warships had dispersed around the remnant star, each corresponding to a specific direction, their battle banners fluttering and runes flowing. He carefully examined the characters on each banner: "Dao Yi," "Yao Guang," "Tian Xuan," "Jiu You," "Zi Fu," "Jue Qing"...
"Why are there only eight holy sites?" Chen Xuan frowned and muttered, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the deck.
"Eight?" Bai Qianhuan, who was beside him, heard this and immediately explained with his spiritual power, his tone somewhat complicated, "The Supreme Holy Land and the Immortal Ancient Holy Land have long surpassed the level of our eight holy lands. They don't even bother to participate in this kind of secret realm competition - as far as they are concerned, their disciples are not lacking in opportunities in the Devouring Demon Star Ruins."
Chen Xuan raised an eyebrow, secretly clicking his tongue in amazement: "So powerful? They completely ignore the eight holy lands?"
"Ignore?" Bai Qianhuan shook his head with a wry smile, his gaze fixed on the depths of the void, as if it could pierce through the endless chaos. "If any of my ancestors from the Heartless Holy Land had achieved eternal unity with the Dao and become a ruler, a supreme being, or even still alive today... our sect could be just as arrogant."
"You mean... there are still ancestors of the Eternal Realm alive in these two holy lands?" Chen Xuan turned his head sharply, his eyes filled with shock. The Eternal Realm—that was a legendary realm, one that even the ancient quasi-emperors hadn't been able to reach. Could there really be beings who survived there?
Bai Qianhuan nodded solemnly, and was about to say something more when Chen Xuan's gaze suddenly stopped—he caught sight of three white-robed elders on the deck of the Yao Guang Holy Land's warship suddenly turning around and looking in the direction of the Jiu You Holy Land.
Following their gaze, in the distant void, a jet-black warship was slowly approaching.
A faint black mist swirled around the warship, from which faint sounds of ghosts wailing and wolves howling could be heard. The battle flag on the mast was deep purple, embroidered with a blooming plum blossom from the Netherworld, exuding a bone-chilling cold.
At the highest point of the warship stood a figure dressed in a white fairy feather robe.
The woman had an unparalleled figure, skin as white as snow, and long, jet-black hair casually draped over her shoulders. In her right hand, she held a folding fan with plum blossoms in the snow, the fan half-open to reveal a plum blossom pattern carved from ice and jade.
She simply stood there, like a fairy plum blossom blooming on ice, aloof and proud, yet possessing a captivating beauty—all eyes that fell upon her seemed frozen, unable to look away.
It was Xia Jiuyou, the Holy Maiden of the Nine Netherworld Holy Land.
Not far from her stood a young man in a blue robe. The young man had a handsome face, with a hint of arrogance between his brows. Faint black flames swirled around him. Although he was standing next to Xia Jiuyou, he was not overshadowed by her radiance at all. Instead, he exuded a sharp aura that rivaled hers. He was none other than Han Jiuling, the number one Holy Son of the Nine Nether Holy Land, a peerless genius who was on par with Xia Jiuyou.
At this moment, Xia Jiuyou's gaze pierced through the void and landed precisely on the deck of the warship of the Heartless Holy Land, on Chen Xuan and Qiu Zixian beside him.
There was no anger in those clear, cold eyes, only a calm as an icy lake, but upon closer inspection, a subtle sharpness was hidden at the bottom of the lake.
“Chen Xuan…” she spoke softly, her voice not loud, but it could penetrate the void and clearly reach her ears, “A hundred years ago you took Qiu Zixian away. Today I have come in my true form to see what progress she has made in the past hundred years.”
These words, spoken neither too loudly nor too softly, reached the ears of Han Jiuling, who was standing beside him.
Han Jiuling raised an eyebrow, turned to look at Xia Jiuyou, and a hint of longing flashed in his eyes—he had long heard that Xia Jiuyou had a primordial spirit clone that was kidnapped a hundred years ago, but he never knew who had such audacity.
Seeing her staring at the white-haired boy from the Heartless Holy Land, how could she not guess?
He suppressed the emotions in his eyes, a playful smile playing on his lips: "Rumor has it that a hundred years ago, someone kidnapped your primordial spirit avatar. Could it be that white-haired boy?"
Xia Jiuyou didn't turn around, but nodded slightly, her voice still calm: "That's right, his name is Chen Xuan."
Han Jiuling's gaze immediately locked onto Chen Xuan, then swept over Qiu Zixian beside him, who looked exactly like Xia Jiuyou, and the amusement in his eyes deepened.
But he quickly composed himself, patted Xia Jiuyou on the shoulder, and laughed, "Since it's your old grudge, I'll avenge you when the ranking battle starts—I'll let that kid know what happens when he dares to mess with people from our Jiuyou Holy Land."
Upon hearing this, Xia Jiuyou's lips curled into a faint smile, but a hint of cold mockery flashed in her eyes.
She was never able to truly escape the fate of being a furnace for the Holy Maiden, largely because of Han Jiuling's ancestor's grand plan of cultivating both gods, immortals, and demons. If successful, perhaps she could escape the fate of being a furnace for the Holy Maiden.
But unexpectedly, Chen Xuan appeared along the way, ruining her grand plan.
Han Jiuling has returned this time possessing an ancient immortal treasure. Upon learning of this news, he must have made preparations. How could he possibly genuinely help me?
"No need." Xia Jiuyou's voice suddenly turned cold, resolute and unconcerned about Han Jiuling's feelings. "A hundred years ago, I used my primordial secret technique to tell him: Anyone who dares to interfere with the cause and effect between me and Qiu Zixian will bear the consequences. Since Chen Xuan dared to interfere with my plans, I will naturally settle this score with him personally."
Han Jiuling's smile froze for a moment, a flash of displeasure crossing his eyes. But he quickly regained his composure, shrugged, and said no more—Xia Jiuyou's influence in the sect was now far beyond his ability to easily shake; he knew his limits.
But no one saw that Xia Jiuyou's fingers, gripping the folding fan, tightened slightly. The plum blossom pattern on the fan seemed to grow even colder at that moment.
Meanwhile, on the deck of the Heartless Holy Warship, Chen Xuan suddenly raised his head and looked in the direction of the Nine Nether Holy Land.
Although he couldn't hear Xia Jiuyou and Han Jiuling's conversation, he could clearly feel a cold gaze—the hostility hidden in that gaze pierced him like needles.
Chen Xuan's lips curled slightly, and a faint smile flashed in his eyes.
"Xia Jiuyou... You've finally arrived." I've been waiting for you for so long.