Crack!
The next moment, lightning surged and struck Li Mo’s back.
Destructive electricity spread across his body, every inch of flesh destroyed and reborn in the chaos. The world before his eyes lost all color, fading into pure white. By now, Li Mo could no longer feel pain.
Yet he remained aware—his body was being torn apart and repaired over and over.
There seemed to be a delicate balance at play, one that, if broken, would cause his flesh to collapse entirely.
It was only thanks to the Eight-Nine Mystical Art and his body, tempered to the level of legendary weapons, that he barely maintained this equilibrium. Otherwise, he would have had no choice but to rely on Indestructible Vajra Body.
He opened his eyes.
Amidst the white void, a pair of silver eyes stared back at him.
The heavenly tribulation was being shared between the two of them.
And so, Ying Bing found an opening to borrow its power.The void trembled. Divine Thunder Without Form, Sword Without Self—the wielder of this divine sword, who commanded the heavenly might, still carried an unwavering softness in her gaze.
At that moment, all barriers of flesh contracted.
The figure of an old man emerged, his body covered in grotesque lumps of flesh, his eyes cold and blood-red. His chest suddenly writhed.
A dark green arm tore through his ribcage and burst forth, covered in twisted veins, withered yet exuding an eerie strength. In its palm was a mouth lined with jagged teeth.
"Not... very... dignified..."
With those words, the old man lost all sense of self, becoming little more than a vessel for the arm.
In that split second, Li Mo recognized it.
Was this the same arm from the Southern Border?
No—it couldn’t be. That had been the right arm. This one... was the left?
Boom!
The tip of Ying Bing’s sword, infused with heavenly tribulation, clashed against the fist. The cavern shook violently, as if on the verge of collapse.
Ying Bing’s figure retreated like a fleeting wisp of sunset, the terrifying force of the impact dissipated by the flowing radiance of her Void-Silk Robe of Vanishing Light.
She frowned at the arm, hesitating to strike again.
"The original owner of this arm must have possessed a physique beyond comprehension," Li Mo observed.
Even he couldn’t have shrugged off Ying Bing’s sword strike so effortlessly. Yet the dark green fist remained unscathed—not even a faint scratch.
The arm bore other scars as well, each one carrying remnants of terrifying divine will, left behind by beings of unimaginable power.
Thud!
The arm suddenly tore free from the old man’s body.
Li Mo tensed, but instead of attacking them, it flew toward Gu Wuhen of the Yin-Yang Hall. Before the horrified man could react, the arm ripped open his chest and burrowed inside.
The sight was... not for the faint of heart.
"What’s it doing now? Another heartfelt gesture for its allies?"
Li Mo was momentarily stunned before realization struck.
It’s trying to escape.
And—
Wait, when did the heavenly tribulation vanish from the sky?
High above, a figure stood, unnoticed until now.
At first glance, he seemed devoid of presence—only upon closer inspection did one realize his aura had merged with the heavens themselves. His aged face bore sharp, authoritative eyes, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed down at the cavern like a thunder god peering into an anthill.
Qian Gong, the Master of Profound Thunder from the Cloud Dream Divine Palace.
No wonder they’re fleeing now.
But—
Good news: He’s a powerhouse from the Great Yu faction.
Bad news: Whether he’s friend or foe remains unclear.
"Young lady," Qian Gong’s voice rumbled like distant thunder, "that sword technique of yours, the one that invoked divine punishment, reminds me of an old acquaintance. But..."
His eyes lingered on the blade in her hand, nostalgic yet dismissive.
"...she was no match for you."
As his words echoed, Gu Wuhen—now host to the arm—turned and fled in the direction he had come from. The remaining Demon Summoning Cultists, upon seeing Qian Gong, scattered like rats.
This was a Seventh Realm expert in his prime—a Thunder Sovereign who commanded the very laws of heavenly tribulation.
None dared face him. Fleeing was simply survival instinct.
Li Mo grabbed Ying Bing’s hand and bolted upward, escaping the cavern.
A streak of lightning flashed past them—
A Serpent Spear, piercing through chaos, annihilating all in its path like the first light of creation.
Li Mo’s understanding of martial arts could only grasp so much. The rest was beyond him. To put it simply, the fourth-tier heavenly tribulation from before was nothing compared to this—not even one percent, not even one thousandth of its power.
Fortunately, the spear wasn’t aimed at them. It merely grazed past.
The cavern below instantly transformed into a prison of boiling thunder, a hellscape of annihilation.
Who knew if any of the Blood Refining Hall would survive? Or if the arm would be obliterated by the tribulation?
"Master of Profound Thunder..."
Li Mo’s soul felt like it had only just returned to his body long after the lightning had passed.
"Thank heavens!"
Murong Xiao, who had been waiting by the ruins, brightened and rushed over.
"Brother Murong!" Xiao Qin tried to stop him, but it was too late.
Crackle—
The residual heavenly tribulation left Murong Xiao charred and smoking. He exhaled a puff of soot.
"Anyway... glad you’re alright, Brother Li."
"Truly fortunate," Xiao Qin groaned, sitting on the ground, too sore to stand. "If not for Junior Sister Ying summoning that Master of Profound Thunder, we’d all be doomed."
He didn’t know Li Mo could have escaped into his Inner World at any time, so he genuinely felt like he’d cheated death.
"Master, I’m fine. These are the fellow cultivators who helped me dismantle this den."
Zhao Jing approached, leading a middle-aged man.
The man wore a black-gold cloak and an official’s hat, his brow deeply furrowed, his eyes sharp and commanding. Behind him stood several subordinates, each radiating formidable auras.
This was undoubtedly the Divine Constable.
Hmm. Always arriving after the battle’s over. Even in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, the authorities stick to tradition... Li Mo mused silently.
"Even Qian Gong has come..."
The Divine Constable studied the young cultivators before him. "Thanks to your efforts, my disciple would have been in grave danger otherwise. Could you recount what happened here in detail?"
With Qian Gong’s intervention, there was no need for arrests.
Li Mo recounted everything from Lu Zhuang’s death to encountering Zhao Jing, omitting only a few irrelevant details—
Like the secret chamber, the four burly men, the bound female investigator...
He simply said they were all righteous souls who had acted on instinct.
"And why was the Frost Fairy here?" the Divine Constable asked, glancing at Ying Bing.
"He keeps running around. I came to take him back."
Her voice was crisp and cold, her expression unreadable.
No one doubted her words.
Would the Frost Fairy lie?
Did she have any reason to?
Except for one person—
"?"
Li Mo blinked.
But the Shared Moonlight Connection wasn’t active. How did the ice block even know I was here?
And—
Did she just glance at me?
She totally glanced at me just now, didn’t she?!