Chapter 6226 - 6230

Upon hearing this, Shen Tong fell into deep thought.

He knew the white-haired elder’s words made sense, but the idea of ​​lowering himself to serve his former nemesis was simply unacceptable.

Looking at the emaciated, terrified disciples of the temple outside the window, at his own severely injured body, and at the temple’s precarious future, his pride and resentment were gradually crushed by reality.

He knew he had no other choice.

Staying in the Fourteenth Heaven to defend it would only lead to death;

wandering would ultimately result in being devoured by various forces;

only by joining the Holy Light Domain’s temple could he survive.

Even if it meant enduring humiliation and having to be subservient, he had to preserve the temple’s flame and wait for a chance to rise again.

“Is there no other way?”

Shen Tong’s voice was low, carrying a final, desperate struggle.

The white-haired elder sighed deeply, “This subordinate is also unwilling to take this step, but the current situation is dire.

If the Palace Master is unwilling to submit to the Divine Hall, this subordinate can only suggest disbanding the Divine Hall and letting the disciples flee for their lives, perhaps saving some lives.

But in that case, the Divine Hall’s millennia-old foundation will be completely wiped out, and you will become the Divine Hall’s eternal sinner.”

These words completely shattered Shen Tong’s last psychological defenses.

He closed his eyes, a murky tear sliding down his cheek—a vulnerability never before seen in a ruler who had wielded power for thousands of years.

After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes, the struggle and resentment in them completely gone, leaving only a cold resolve.

“Very well, as you say.”

Shen Tong spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice hoarse. “Pass down the order: abandon the temple’s gates. All surviving disciples, immediately proceed to the teleportation array at the back of the temple. Do not carry any unnecessary supplies; travel light and at full speed to the Holy Light Domain to seek refuge with the Divine Hall!”

“Your subordinate obeys!” The white-haired elder bowed and accepted the order, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes. He quickly turned and went out to relay the message.

A moment later, all the temple disciples learned of the news that they were to seek refuge with the Divine Hall. Although they were surprised, they understood their current predicament. No one objected; they simply remained silent, the atmosphere extremely oppressive.

Shen Tong led the surviving disciples towards the back of the mountain. Looking at the teleportation array before him, inscribed with ancient divine runes, he was filled with mixed emotions.

This teleportation array was a backup plan that the temple had prepared in the past to defend against powerful enemies. It led directly to the edge of the Holy Light Domain and was built using countless rare and precious materials. It had never been used for ten thousand years, yet today it had become the temple’s escape route.

“Activate the teleportation array! Everyone, enter in turn, no crowding!”

the white-haired elder commanded loudly. Several temple disciples skilled in array formations immediately stepped forward and injected immortal liquid.

Accompanied by a deep hum, the teleportation array runes lit up, and golden light shot into the sky, forming a huge teleportation portal. On the other side of the portal, the pure white and holy sea of ​​clouds of the Holy Light Domain could be vaguely seen.

Shen Tong looked at the remaining two hundred or so temple disciples behind him, and at the four wounded True Immortal Realm elders, took a deep breath, and said in a deep voice, “Remember today’s humiliation and hardship.

This trip to the Holy Light Domain, where we will temporarily live under someone else’s roof, will inevitably involve some grievances. Endure them all.

As long as we live, as long as the temple’s flame remains burning, one day we will reclaim everything that belongs to us and avenge ourselves!”

“We obey the temple master’s command!”

the surviving temple disciples responded in unison, their voices weak but carrying an indomitable fighting spirit.

Shen Tong nodded. “Let’s go.”

He then stepped into the teleportation array first.

A bright light engulfed his figure.

One disciple after another stepped into the array, disappearing into the light.

When the last disciple entered, the array’s light suddenly surged, then slowly dimmed until it went out completely.

The temple was empty.

Only the night wind howled, stirring the dust on the ruins, as if telling the story of its former glory and present desolation.

At the foot of Holy Light Peak in the Holy Domain of Light,

Shen Tong arrived with over two hundred disciples.

“Who dares trespass into the temple’s territory!”

Dozens of figures instantly appeared around them, surrounding them.

These were the temple’s guards, each possessing a powerful aura, wielding golden spears, their eyes sharp as lightning.

Shen Tong took a deep breath, stepped forward, and clasped his hands in greeting: “I am Shen Tong, the temple master, and I have come with my disciples to request an audience with the temple master!”

The head guard frowned, sizing him up.

“Temple Master?” His gaze swept over the disheveled disciples behind Shen Tong, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. “What happened to you…”

Shen Tong gave a bitter smile, making no attempt to hide anything.

“The demons invaded, and the temple was destroyed. We have nowhere else to turn, so we have come to seek refuge in the temple. Please inform the Hall Master that… Shen Tong requests an audience.”

The guard captain was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Wait a moment.”

He turned and left, his figure disappearing into the light.

Shen Tong stood there, waiting quietly.

The disciples behind him looked anxiously at the temple guards around them, their hearts filled with tension.

They didn’t know what awaited them.

Would they be accepted, or expelled?

Would they find a way out, or be trapped in a dead end?

Time passed second by second.

Finally, the light shone again, and the guard captain returned.

He bowed slightly to Shen Tong, his tone becoming more respectful: “The Hall Master requests your presence. Everyone… please follow me.”

A great weight lifted from Shen Tong’s heart, and he let out a long sigh.

He glanced back at the disciples behind him and nodded.

“Let’s go.”

More than two hundred people followed the guard captain and stepped into Holy Light Peak.

What awaited them was an unknown fate. The Divine Hall sits atop Holy Light Peak.

Majestic and imposing, the hall is constructed entirely of rare, luminous holy jade. Each piece of jade has been nourished by holy light for countless years, radiating a soft, holy golden light that, while not dazzling, carries a power that inspires awe.

From afar, the entire hall appears as if formed from condensed light, standing silently between heaven and earth, exuding an unchanging sacredness and majesty.

The main gate of the hall is a hundred feet high, its two massive doors carved with the creation myths of the divine race. The sun, moon, stars, mountains, rivers, plants, and all living beings are vividly depicted on the doors, seemingly containing the essence of an entire world.

Above the lintel hangs a huge plaque inscribed with the four ancient divine characters “Divine Hall,” the characters ancient and powerful, each stroke flowing with holy light, faintly echoing with the sounds of the Great Dao. A single glance is enough to make one’s heart tremble, and one dares not harbor the slightest thought of profanity.

Stepping into the main hall is like entering a true divine kingdom.

Thirty-six massive golden pillars, each requiring dozens of people to encircle, stand in neat rows, supporting the towering dome.

These pillars are cast from pure gold, their surfaces inlaid with countless tiny, luminous crystals. Carved on their surfaces are epic scenes depicting the ancestors of the divine race conquering the heavens, sweeping across all races, and pacifying the four directions.

From the ancient war between gods and demons to suppressing the dark abyss, and protecting the myriad beings of the fourteen heavens, every carving is incredibly detailed and lifelike, as if the ancestors, clad in divine armor and wielding divine weapons, might step off the pillars at any moment to once again conquer the four directions for the divine race.

Each golden pillar exudes a faint pressure, the aura of the divine ancestors, a majesty refined over countless ages, causing those who enter the hall to instinctively restrain their aura and lower their heads.

Above the dome, there were no ornate carvings or jewels of ordinary palaces, only a “Holy Sun” formed from the purest and most primal power of light.

The Holy Sun was not large, yet it seemed to be the core of the entire hall, slowly rotating and casting down endless, warm, and sacred light.

Wherever the light touched, even the dust in the air was purified, and all darkness, filth, and violence were instantly dissolved.

The entire hall was illuminated by the Holy Sun, as bright as day, every corner filled with holy light. Being there felt as if one’s soul had been cleansed, and all distracting thoughts, resentment, and bitterness were temporarily suppressed.

This was the most sacred place in the hearts of cultivators of the Fourteenth Heaven’s Holy Domain of Light, a holy land that countless people longed to worship at least once in their lifetime.

And at this moment, the Temple Master, Shen Tong, stood in this hall that countless people looked up to.

His figure appeared exceptionally small and forlorn in the vast and majestic hall.

Once upon a time, he was a powerful overlord, a temple lord who rivaled the Divine Hall, possessing tens of thousands of years of divine power, commanding countless powerful warriors, tens of thousands of elite disciples, and believers throughout every corner of the Fourteenth Heaven.

Back then, he was full of vigor and looked down upon all others. A single point of his scepter could change the very fabric of the world, forcing all forces to submit.

Not to mention ordinary clans, even the other top powers had to be cautious and respectful before him.

At that time, how could he possibly take the Divine Hall seriously?

In his mind, the Divine Hall was nothing more than a group of old fogies clinging to tradition and lacking ambition, claiming themselves to be the legitimate successors of the divine race simply because they occupied Holy Light Peak, while in reality they were content with their corner of the land, afraid to participate in external conflicts, only able to eke out a living hiding in the Holy Domain of Light.

He had even openly mocked the Divine Hall on numerous occasions, in front of countless divine cultivators,

saying that the Divine Hall “had only a hollow reputation, occupying a holy land but doing nothing.”

They called the members of the Divine Hall “nothing more than cowardly turtles hiding in the Holy Domain of Light, clinging to life.”

They said the Divine Hall was unworthy to be mentioned alongside the Temple, much less worthy to bear the name of the legitimate divine race.

Those words, each one resounding and jarring, echoed throughout the Fourteen Heavens. Everyone knew that the Temple Master, Shen Tong, was sworn enemies with the Divine Hall, regarding it as his greatest rival and laughingstock.

Back then, he could never have imagined that one day he would fall into such a predicament.

But now…

everything had changed.

Shen Tong lowered his head slightly, his gaze not fixed on the throne, nor on the elders of the Divine Hall, but only his peripheral vision slowly sweeping over those behind him.

There stood over two hundred disciples of the Temple.

They had long lost the prestige and pride of their former Temple disciples.

One by one, their clothes were tattered, covered in blood and tears. Some had broken arms, others had deep, bone-revealing wounds on their legs, and still others were as pale as paper, clearly severely injured, barely able to stand.

Their faces had lost their former vigor, replaced by exhaustion, dishevelment, sorrow, and a barely concealed fear and unease.

Looking at these two hundred disciples, Shen Tong felt an overwhelming sense of grief and pain.

In his prime, he had commanded thousands of elite warriors from the temple, each disciple a carefully selected, exceptionally talented individual. When they marched, banners blotted out the sun, their imposing presence reaching the heavens. Wherever they went, all races paid homage—how majestic, how glorious!

But now, after a great battle, those thousands of elite warriors were almost entirely wiped out, leaving only these two hundred.

These two hundred were the last embers of the temple, the last remnants of his tens of thousands of years of foundation.

He had once been high above, revered by thousands, his word law, and none dared disobey him.

Now, however, he had to abandon all pride and dignity, groveling before his former mortal enemy, whom he had once despised and mocked most, begging for refuge. He

had fallen from the clouds to the mire, from a hegemon to a beggar.

This fall, this humiliation, was a thousand times more unbearable than death itself.

His heart was filled with hatred, anger, resentment, and frustration.

But he had to endure it.

For the last embers of the temple, for the lives of the two hundred disciples behind him, he had to endure.

As long as they could live, as long as a trace of the temple’s bloodline could be preserved, he could abandon everything, endure any humiliation, accept any mockery.

Shen Tong took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions within him, and slowly raised his head, his gaze finally settling on the golden throne, crafted from pure gold and sacred jade, high above the main hall.

The throne was enormous and magnificent, carved with patterns of birds paying homage to the phoenix and gods worshipping, radiating an awe-inspiring majesty.

That was not merely a seat, but a symbol of power, a symbol of the orthodoxy of the divine race, the most prestigious position in the entire Fourteen Heavens.

Seated atop the throne was a figure:

Yao Chen, the Hall Master of the Divine Hall.
He wore a pristine white holy robe, spotless and of soft texture, yet exuding boundless holiness.

Ancient and mysterious divine patterns were embroidered on the robe with golden divine thread, these patterns subtly shifting with his breath, echoing the holy light within the hall. Each shift emitted a faint Daoist aura.

His face was handsome and dignified, with sword-like eyebrows, bright eyes, a high nose, and clearly defined lips. Though he appeared to be only middle-aged, he possessed a calm and magnanimous air born from the vicissitudes of countless ages.

There was no deliberate exertion of pressure around him, yet he naturally radiated an aura of holy light that commanded awe and reverence, as if he himself were light, saint, and the most orthodox rule of heaven and earth.

He sat quietly on his throne, upright and serene, his gaze calm as he looked down upon the divine beings below, his eyes as still as water, utterly unwavering, revealing no emotion whatsoever.

There was no anger, no disdain, no mockery, and no pity.

It was like looking at a stranger, at a trivial matter.

Yet, the more tranquil it was, the more unsettling and oppressive it felt.

On either side of Yao Chen stood the twelve guardian elders of the Divine Hall.

Each of these twelve was a True Immortal Realm expert renowned throughout the Fourteenth Heaven; any one of them could easily establish a sect and be revered by thousands.

Their auras were powerful yet restrained, surrounded by holy light, their faces solemn, their eyes sharp, like twelve war gods guarding the Divine Hall, motionless yet exuding a terrifying presence.

At this moment, their gazes were all fixed on Shen Tong and the people of the Divine Hall.

Some gazes were cold, scrutinizing, as if appraising a group of intruders.

Some eyes were contemptuous, disdainful, as if looking at a pack of stray dogs.

Some elders even openly displayed mocking, gloating smiles.

The hall was deathly silent.

Terribly silent.

Only the faint sound of the Holy Sun rotating, only the suppressed breathing of the crowd.

Shen Tong stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if each gaze was a sharp knife, slowly slicing through his body and his heart. The

physical pain was bearable, but this spiritual and dignified torture was like a thorn in his side, making him feel restless and uneasy.

He had lived for ten thousand years, traversing the fourteen heavens, always looking down on others, always mocking others.

He had never suffered such humiliation, never been looked at with such contempt, like an ant.

But he could only endure it. He

had to swallow his anger, even if it meant gritting his teeth.

Shen Tong took another deep breath, suppressing all the turmoil in his heart, and stepped forward, his feet landing heavily on the ground paved with the Holy Jade of Light.

His straight back slowly bent.

Then, facing Yao Chen on the throne, he bowed deeply, his knees touching the ground.

This bow shattered tens of thousands of years of his pride.

This bow erased the temple’s former glory.

This bow emptied all resentment and sorrow.

“Temple Master Shen Tong, leading the remaining disciples, pays respects to the Hall Master.”

His voice was low and hoarse from the long escape and days of toil, yet he tried his best to maintain a respectful and humble tone, daring not to show the slightest disrespect.

Behind him, more than two hundred temple disciples, ragged and wounded, also suppressed their humiliation and resentment, bowing in unison.

Their movements were uneven; some were too badly injured to bend over, while others trembled slightly, clearly showing extreme anger and resentment.

But they still lowered their heads.

Because they knew that if the Temple Master was enduring, they had to endure too.

On the throne, Yao Chen remained silent, not even his gaze changing much.

He simply looked quietly at the kneeling, bowing Shen Tong and the others, his gaze calm to the point of indifference.

There was no response, no gesture, no telling them to rise.

Time ticked by, second by second.

One second, two seconds, three seconds…

one breath, ten breaths, a hundred breaths…

Shen Tong remained bowed, his back bent so low it seemed about to break, all his strength concentrated in his legs. Fine beads of cold sweat gradually appeared on his forehead, sliding down his cheeks.

The prolonged bowing left him aching all over, but the physical pain paled in comparison to the humiliation in his heart.

Yao Chen showed no intention of letting him rise.

This deliberate neglect, this silent indifference, was more humiliating and devastating than any verbal insult or malicious mockery.

This was a blatant show of force. Shen

Tong understood perfectly well.

Yao Chen wanted him to kneel, to wait, to experience what it felt like to fall from a high and mighty overlord to an ant trampled upon.

He wanted to tell him that from this day forward, on Holy Light Peak, in the Divine Hall, Shen Tong was nothing.

His pride, his dignity, his status—all were worthless.

Shen Tong gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched so tightly that his lips were almost bleeding, the taste of blood filling his mouth.

He endured.

He suppressed all his anger, all his humiliation, all his urge to raise his head and roar, to draw his sword.

For the sake of his disciples, for the sake of the temple’s flame, he had to endure.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity,

Yao Chen slowly spoke from his throne.

His voice was gentle and clear, like a mountain spring, melodious and pleasant, without a trace of hostility. Yet, beneath that gentleness lay a lofty detachment and indifference, an undeniable authority.

“Palace Master Shen Tong, no need for formalities, rise.”

His short words were like a decree.

Shen Tong slowly straightened up, his stiff body swaying slightly. He forced himself to steady himself, looked up at Yao Chen, and forced a respectful and humble smile onto his face.

“Thank you, Hall Master.”

Yao Chen looked at him quietly, his gaze lingering on him for a moment. After a while, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a meaningful, enigmatic smile.

“Hall Master of Divine Power, I remember the last time we formally met was three thousand years ago, at the Divine Clan Grand Ceremony held in the Fourteenth Heaven.”

His tone was calm, as if recalling a trivial past event, but every word was like a small hammer, gently tapping on Divine Power’s heart.

“Back then, the Lord of the Divine Power Hall was full of vigor and high spirits. Standing on the high platform of the grand ceremony, he pointed his finger at me and said in front of everyone that the Divine Hall was nothing but a bunch of cowards hiding in the Holy Domain of Light, afraid to go out and dare not compete. They were not worthy of being called the legitimate lineage of the Divine Race alongside the Divine Hall.”

“These words are still fresh in my memory. I have never forgotten them.”

His voice was still gentle, but the sarcasm and ridicule in his words were undisguised and nakedly displayed in front of everyone. The atmosphere in the main hall instantly became even more oppressive.

Shen Tong’s face stiffened slightly, turning pale and then flushed, his anger surging within him, but he could only forcefully suppress it.

He bowed slightly again, his tone even more humble, carrying a hint of guilt and remorse: “Back then… I was arrogant and reckless, and in a moment of confusion, I uttered such outrageous words. I beg the Hall Master to be magnanimous and not hold it against me, to forgive my ignorance back then.”

“Forgive me?”

Yao Chen repeated softly, then chuckled lightly, the laughter not loud, but clearly echoing throughout the entire hall.

“Lord of the Divine Power Hall, you flatter me. What you said back then wasn’t entirely unreasonable; in fact, it could be considered the truth.

The Divine Hall has always been content with its corner of the world, clinging to Holy Light Peak, unlike your Divine Hall, which commands respect and influence throughout the Fourteenth Heaven, wielding immense power and prestige. What glory and arrogance you enjoy!”

He paused, his gaze slowly shifting from the Divine Power Hall’s face to the disheveled, wounded disciples of the Divine Hall behind him.

Every disciple seen by that gaze instinctively lowered their head, unable to meet his eyes.

Yao Chen’s tone remained gentle, but beneath that gentleness lay a chilling sarcasm and coldness.

“But… I’m a little curious.”

“Your temple, so majestic and powerful, commanding the winds and rains of the Fourteenth Heaven, how come, after all that shouting and clamoring, you’ve ended up like this?”

“The thousands of elite troops of yesteryear are now reduced to only two hundred remnants; the once magnificent temple is now homeless; the once invincible temple master now has to come to the temple begging for shelter.”

“This contrast is far too great; it truly baffles me.” Upon

hearing this ,

the temple’s guardian elders on either side of Yao Chen could no longer contain themselves and burst into laughter.

“Hahahaha—!”

“The Hall Master is absolutely right! I was just wondering too! The Temple is so powerful, how did they end up in such a sorry state?”

“When I came in just now, I thought I was seeing things. How could the Temple Master, a powerful figure who commands respect, bring only two hundred or so defeated soldiers? This isn’t a Temple Master at all, he’s clearly a bunch of refugees fleeing from their plight!”

“Tsk tsk tsk, how majestic they were back then, pointing their fingers at our Temple and belittling us to nothing. Now look at them, they’re coming to us begging for shelter. What goes around comes around!”

“Where did their arrogance go? Where did their domineering spirit go? Why aren’t they still so arrogant now?”

The laughter was grating, arrogant, and unrestrained.

The sarcastic words were sharp, biting, and merciless.

Each sentence was like the sharpest knife, piercing the heart of Shen Tong, piercing the heart of every Temple disciple. Shen Tong’s face alternated between pale

and flushed, then flushed and dark, looking extremely unsightly. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white, his nails digging deep into his palms, causing excruciating pain. Thin streams of blood dripped slowly from between his fingers, falling onto the luminous jade ground, a stark contrast to his appearance. The rage within him threatened to burst from his chest. Yet he restrained himself. He couldn’t be angry, couldn’t explode, couldn’t act impulsively. If he acted impulsively, everyone would die here today. Shen Tong took a deep breath, suppressing his surging blood and anger, and bowed again, his voice low and hoarse, yet still maintaining utmost respect. “The Hall Master is right. I was arrogant and ignorant back then, and my current predicament is entirely my own fault.” “I have come today to apologize to the Divine Hall and to beg for its aid.” He slowly raised his head, his gaze sincere, with a hint of pleading, as he looked at Yao Chen. “Recently, the demon race has suddenly risen to power, and the demonic dragon lineage has rampaged across the land, cruel and merciless, leaving devastation and barrenness in its wake. In particular, within the demonic dragon lineage, there is a young man named Ning Zhi whose strength is terrifying beyond imagination, far beyond the reach of ordinary cultivators.” “I could not bear to see the divine beings slaughtered by the demons, so I led all the elites of the temple to war, intending to eliminate this scourge for the divine race and protect the peace of this region. However… the disparity between us and the enemy was too great, and we were ultimately defeated. Thousands of disciples were killed or wounded, the temple’s foundation was destroyed, and I myself was seriously injured, my cultivation level plummeted.” As he said this, his voice became even lower, filled with endless sorrow and helplessness. “Now, the temple is destroyed, our home is gone, and various forces in the Fourteenth Heaven are eyeing us covetously. Some want to take advantage of our misfortune, others want to seize the opportunity to annex us. We, the surviving disciples, have nowhere to go, nowhere to escape.” “With no other choice, we have come to the Divine Hall to seek refuge. We implore the Hall Master to consider our shared divine bloodline and common origins, to take us in and give us a way to survive.” “I am willing to offer all the remaining troops, secret realm resources, treasures, and all the secrets, defenses, and hidden features of the Divine Hall’s sacred mountain to the Divine Hall as a token of our sincerity, without the slightest falsehood.” Having said this, he no longer hesitated, bowing deeply once more, his posture utterly humble. Behind him, the more than two hundred temple disciples, seeing their Hall Master so humble, were filled with grief, yet they too knelt down, heads bowed, not daring to raise their heads. The hall fell silent once more. The earlier laughter and mockery vanished instantly. Yao Chen silently gazed at the kneeling Shen Tong, his eyes deep and unfathomable, a complex and enigmatic light flashing within them. There was scrutiny, amusement, indifference, and a hint of barely perceptible calculation. After a moment, he slowly spoke, his voice still gentle, yet tinged with amusement. “Palace Master Shentong, you say you’re willing to offer up all the resources of the temple’s secret realm and the secrets of the Holy Mountain?” Shentong immediately raised his head, not daring to conceal anything, and nodded hurriedly, his tone firm: “Yes! I have not lied, every word I have said is true! Although the temple was destroyed, the secret realm still contains a large amount of cultivation resources, divine crystals, immortal herbs, and fragments of divine artifacts, all the foundation accumulated by the temple over tens of thousands of years.” “Moreover, deep within the Holy Mountain lies the physical body of a Ghost Clan Venerable, sealed away by our temple’s ancestors with painstaking effort. It is a supreme treasure, its value immeasurable. As long as the Hall Master is willing to take us in and forgive past grievances, all these things will belong to the temple, and I will not keep any for myself!” Yao Chen nodded slightly, a satisfied look on his face, clearly very tempted by the conditions offered by Shentong. The temple’s tens of thousands of years of heritage, the resources of the secret realm, the secrets of the holy mountain, and even the physical body of the Ghost Clan Venerable… these are all things that the temple has always wanted but has no way of obtaining. Just then, a white-haired guardian elder standing to Yao Chen’s left suddenly sneered, took a step forward, and broke the silence.

“Divine Power, you speak more eloquently than you sing. Your words are flowery and full of sincerity, but who knows if you’re telling the truth? Who knows if you’re deceiving us?”

“What if you’re just using the Divine Hall for refuge, temporarily biding your time, and then, once the storm has passed, your injuries have healed, and your strength has increased, you turn your back on us and turn against the Divine Hall? Wouldn’t we be letting a wolf into our house, raising a tiger to cause future trouble?”

Another dark-faced elder immediately chimed in, his tone icy and full of distrust: “That’s right! The people of your Divine Hall have always been treacherous and cunning, with extremely deep schemes. Back then, in order to seize the rightful place of the Divine Race, you secretly used countless underhanded methods, with endless conspiracies and tricks.”

“Now you suddenly come seeking refuge, speaking so humbly. Who knows what your intentions are? Who knows if you have some unspeakable conspiracy?”

Another gaunt elder spoke even more sarcastically and sarcastically, “Besides, your temple values ​​the Holy Mountain more than your own lives. The secrets and shady dealings hidden within are probably not so simple, are they?”

“I’ve long heard that over the years, your temple has been using the guise of worshiping and praying at the Holy Mountain to secretly abduct and extract the souls and essences of countless rogue cultivators and cultivators from small clans. Your methods are cruel and utterly depraved, your aim being to resurrect some forbidden being, doing something against the will of Heaven!”

“If such sordid deeds and such shameful secrets were to get out, it would be enough to bring your temple to its doom! If our temple were to take you in, wouldn’t we also have to share the blame, be cursed by the world, and become the target of public criticism?”

These words were spoken.

The expressions of everyone in the temple changed drastically, their faces turning ashen, and they shuddered.

Extracting the soul essence of cultivators in an attempt to resurrect a forbidden being.

This was the temple’s greatest secret, its most shameful secret, a dark past capable of being besieged and utterly destroyed by all races.

This matter was deeply hidden; aside from the temple’s high-ranking officials, almost no one knew of it.

Unexpectedly, the temple already knew!

Shen Tong was shocked, his face turning deathly pale. He hurriedly tried to explain, “Elders, you’ve misunderstood! You mustn’t believe these rumors! They’re malicious rumors spread by those with ill intentions, fabricated by enemies who want to frame our temple!”

“Rumors?”

The white-haired elder sneered again, his eyes sharp as knives, directly interrupting Shen Tong.

“Lord of the Divine Power Hall, do you think we’re all three-year-olds, so easily fooled? Do you think our Divine Hall hasn’t investigated those missing cultivators, those rogue cultivators whose souls mysteriously vanished without even a chance to reincarnate?”

“Do you think you can really hide your despicable deeds forever?”

Divine Power opened his mouth, wanting to continue his defense, but the words caught in his throat, and he found himself utterly unable to refute them.

Those things were indeed done by the Divine Hall back then for power and ambition.

The evidence was irrefutable; he couldn’t deny it.

For a moment, Divine Power’s face turned deathly pale. He stood there, helpless, caught in extreme embarrassment and panic.

At this moment of utter oppression,

an elder of the Divine Hall standing behind Divine Power finally couldn’t bear it any longer.

He was a man of fiery temperament; during their escape, witnessing the Hall Master suffer humiliation and his fellow disciples being mocked and trampled upon, his heart had long been filled with endless anger and resentment.

Now, having his sore spot so blatantly exposed and humiliated by the temple elder, he could no longer suppress his anger.

“Enough!”

a furious shout rang out.

It came from a middle-aged temple elder, covered in blood, severely injured, his breath weak and faltering, barely able to stand.

But now, he abruptly stood up, his face flushed, his eyes bloodshot, burning with the flames of anger and humiliation.

“Our temple has indeed been defeated! We have indeed fallen into ruin! We have indeed reached a dead end! But we came with sincerity, seeking help and seeking an alliance with the divine race!”

“If you are unwilling to take us in, fine, but why the cold mockery, the endless humiliation, and the relentless pressure?!”

“Our temple and the divine hall share the same roots and origins, and are of the same divine bloodline. We should help each other and fight against external enemies together! Today, we are in distress, and you not only do not offer a helping hand, but you also disregard our kinship and kick us when we are down, doing everything you can to mock us!”

“With such a heart and such a face, do you deserve to be called the legitimate lineage of the divine race? Do you deserve to occupy Holy Light Peak? Do you deserve to be revered by all cultivators in the world?”

He became more and more agitated as he spoke, his voice rising higher and higher, almost roaring.

“Don’t forget! The Demon Dragon lineage is unstoppable, and that Ning Zhi is terrifying beyond compare! Their next target is very likely your Divine Hall, this Holy Light Peak!”

“You have no idea how terrifying Ning Zhi’s strength is! You have no idea what despair is! Today you laugh at us, humiliate us, but tomorrow, when you are slaughtered by the Demon Dragon and crushed by Ning Zhi, let’s see if you can still laugh!!”

“Insolence!”

A sharp shout interrupted him.

A golden-robed elder of the Divine Hall was furious. Holy light surged around him, and the terrifying pressure of the True Immortal Realm instantly swept through the entire hall, pressing down on the elder like a mountain.

“How dare you roar in the Divine Hall’s main hall and insult the elders of the Divine Hall! You’re courting death!”

The golden-robed elder’s eyes were cold, and he was about to make a move to suppress him.

But before he could make a move,

Yao Chen, who had always had a gentle smile on his face, gently raised his right hand.

A simple movement.

Without releasing any aura, without making any sound. The golden-robed elder, who had been so imposing just moments before, froze instantly .

The surging holy light around him vanished in an instant, and he dared not utter another word. He obediently retreated, bowing his head with utmost respect. The entire hall fell silent. Yao Chen remained seated on his throne, his face still bearing that gentle smile. But that smile no longer evoked warmth; instead, it sent a chill down one’s spine. His gaze calmly fell upon the agitated and roaring temple elder. He spoke softly, his voice gentle yet carrying an absolute, unquestionable, and unyielding authority. “Have you finished?” The temple elder’s heart tightened. Looking into Yao Chen’s eyes, he instinctively wanted to say something more, to continue arguing for himself and the temple.

But before he could speak,

Yao Chen simply raised his right hand and casually pointed at him.

There were no earth-shattering phenomena, no terrifying pressure.

A slender, soft, and not dazzling golden light slowly shot out from Yao Chen’s fingertip.

The light was slow, even deceptively slow, seemingly harmless, like an ordinary ray of holy light.

Yet, this seemingly harmless light seemed to traverse space, ignoring distance, all defenses, and the temple elder’s protective divine light and magical artifacts.

Instantly, it precisely pierced the temple elder’s brow.

There was no explosion, no scream, no splatter of blood.

The temple elder’s body suddenly froze.

His eyes widened, pupils contracted, and his face still bore the marks of anger and agitation, yet he remained frozen in place.

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, to utter a sound, but not a trace of breath escaped him, not a single movement could be made.

The next moment,

a bizarre scene unfolded.

His body, starting from the spot where the light pierced his brow, gradually disintegrated into countless golden specks of light, like sand sculptures scattered by the wind, crumbling, melting, and vanishing bit by bit.

From head to torso to limbs.

In just a few breaths

, a temple elder who had lived for thousands of years, before everyone’s very eyes, completely transformed into countless specks of light, disappearing into the air without a trace.

Not even a scream could be uttered.

Not a drop of blood, not a piece of bone remained.

His soul was scattered.

Utterly annihilated.

Even the chance of reincarnation was erased.

The hall was deathly silent. A

deathly silence.

Everyone was stunned.

The elders of the Divine Hall were slightly startled, but quickly regained their composure, their gazes towards Shen Tong and the others growing even colder and more disdainful.

The members of the Divine Hall, however, were filled with terror, their bodies trembling violently, their faces ashen, their eyes filled with fear and disbelief.

They stared intently at the spot where the elder had vanished, their hearts pounding wildly, as if about to leap from their throats.

One move.

A mere casual flick of the finger.

Not even a single superfluous movement.

An elder had been completely annihilated, leaving no chance for reincarnation.

Was this the power of Yao Chen, the Hall Master of the Divine Hall?

Was this the terror of the orthodox divine race?

Shen Tong froze on the spot, his mind blank, his body ice-cold.

That elder was one of his most loyal and closest subordinates, who had followed him for thousands of years, through countless life-and-death battles, never wavering in his loyalty, never betraying the Divine Hall; he was the person he trusted most.