Chapter 236

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Chapter 236: Title

Fang Yuan knew he couldn’t be of assistance in such circumstances. To avoid hindering the operation, he dutifully positioned himself at the spot Jiang Yan had indicated.

Were the situation less dire, Wen Renyi might have chuckled aloud. The sight of Fang Yuan’s meek, newlywed-bride demeanor proved almost irresistibly comical.

Schooling her features into seriousness, she turned to Jiang Yan. "Ready?"

The young man flashed an OK sign.

Time expired.

Three rhythmic knocks reverberated through the space. Simultaneously, Jiang Yan’s phone erupted with Ghost Call’s signature eerie ringtone. Though unanswered, the device automatically connected after thirty seconds with an electronic chirp.

Wen Renyi kept her talisman poised, prepared to slap it onto Jiang Yan’s forehead should danger arise.

Jiang Yan pressed a finger to his lips, attention locked on the cabinet being gradually pushed inward. The door creaked open a finger’s breadth, revealing a blood-red ocular orb peering through the gap.

A black shadow coalesced in the air, solidifying into a hunched, indistinct figure three paces from Jiang Yan. The 1.7-meter youth examined the crouching specter with academic curiosity. "So you’re my midnight caller?"

Without awaiting response, he continued conversationally, "No wonder nobody picks up. That face could curdle milk."

Jiang Yan’s porcelain features and rosebud mouth epitomized youthful beauty, while his adversary’s twisted silhouette embodied grotesquerie – a hunched, faceless creature radiating malice.

The ghostly figure seemed momentarily nonplussed. Though accustomed to victims’ deathbed pleas, this marked its first encounter with provocative mockery.

"Not even offended by truth-telling?" Jiang Yan drawled, hands pocketed, deliberately ignoring the slowly widening door. His scrutiny remained fixed on the shadow-being as he mentally cataloged its reactions.

Online research suggested these paranormal entities operated through strict target fixation. Unless specific triggers activated, they maintained single-minded focus – Ghost Call’s manifestation obsessed with phone-holders, the death-seeking ghost fixated on Fang Yuan’s stolen artifact. Wen Renyi, unconnected to either curse, stood relatively safe.

This calculated provocation served purpose beyond mere taunting. Jiang Yan needed confirmation – did these apparitions possess human-level cognition?

"Your file’s underwhelming," he continued. "Phone pranks? Pathetic. What’s your actual murder method?" Disappointment tinged his voice. The entity’s mechanical responses suggested Blue Star’s newborn spirits – mindless echoes of former lives. Yet this tier two entity’s power contradicted such weakness.

An earsplitting shriek answered him. Jiang Yan pivoted smoothly, talisman-enhanced reflexes carrying him clear of the assault. The ghost’s velocity confirmed tier two status at minimum. Memories of battling the red-clad senior ghost cultivator flashed through his mind, gratitude surfacing for his precautionary preparations.

Natural speed would’ve failed him. More puzzling – why would tier two entity lack consciousness? This resembled puppetry rather than true haunting.

His hand brushed Daoist Priest Li’s jade symbol, hesitation striking. One-time use left the external threat unaddressed. Worse still, netlore classified death-seeking ghosts above phone phantoms. If this shadow ranked tier two…

Jiang Yan’s lips compressed. The creature beyond the door might be tier three.

Thinking of this, Jiang Yan truly felt like he’d hoisted a stone to crush his own foot. Could Daoist Priest Li’s jade symbol eliminate a tier-three ghost? He wasn’t certain.

Yet now, the gamble had to be taken—lure them into the formation, weaken their power, then strike. Otherwise, relying solely on his and Wen Renyi’s strength might result in a fatal reversal.

The cabinet slammed to the floor with a thunderous crash as the death-seeking ghost materialized in the doorway. Its shriveled visage resembled an octogenarian’s, complete with liver-spotted skin, grizzled hair, and antiquated attire: a sepia cross-collar robe from bygone eras paired with cloth shoes.

The specter lingered motionless, its creaking neck rotating as it scoured the room like a predator seeking prey.

"Now," Wen Renyi murmured. The talisman between her fingers burst into flames, releasing the acrid stench of singed hair—strands plucked from Fang Yuan’s scalp. As the ritual bound his essence to her, she became his living decoy for ten fleeting minutes while he remained cloaked within the formation.

The instant the hair ignited, the death-seeking ghost snapped its gaze toward her.

Chaos reigned in the cramped room. Jiang Yan darted in erratic patterns, leading the ghostly figure like a macabre kite dance. Meanwhile, the death-seeking ghost lunged at Wen Renyi with unnatural speed, decaying face suddenly inches from hers. Corpse blotches mottled its sagging skin.

Wen Renyi clenched her jaw against rising bile. A shimmer of spiritual energy enveloped her, and she vanished—reappearing beside Jiang Yan in a ripple of displaced air.

"Tier three, likely," he warned, eyeing the advancing specter. "Stay sharp."

"Noted." She tightened her grip on the short-range teleportation talisman—two charges remaining. Such treasures couldn’t be squandered; their limited arsenal demanded thrift. Survival hinged on conservation.

Though novice partners, their coordination proved uncanny. Through feints and strategic retreats, they herded both entities into Jiang Yan’s pre-arranged formations. Ghost trap and sealing formation flared to life—ancient countermeasures against the restless dead.

"Success." Jiang Yan yanked Fang Yuan from the corner as spectral claws raked empty air. The enraged ghosts collided with glowing barriers, their roars shaking dust from the rafters.

Without hesitation, Jiang Yan channeled the jade symbol. Contained sword intent erupted—a radiant arc cleaving through the chamber. The blade-light struck true, reducing the specters to wisps of dissolving malice. Their death-shrieks faded like frost beneath noon sun.

Barriers flickered out. Jiang Yan gaped at the vacant formations. "That… obliterated them?"

Wen Renyi studied the dimmed jade symbol, its surface now webbed with hairline fractures. "Daoist Priest Li’s pinnacle technique," she breathed. "To seal his prime’s ultimate strike here—you’ve earned formidable trust."

Jiang Yan’s cheek twitched, recalling his half-jesting demand for "the strongest protection." The daoist’s earnestness shamed him.

"Nearly bisected the building," he quipped, gathering partially charged talismans. Residual spiritual energy glimmered on the parchment—precious remnants preserved by the strike’s efficiency. Every second in the formations had drained power; Daoist Li’s intervention proved as precise as it was devastating.

Wen Renyi said helplessly, "You still have the mood for jokes."

Jiang Yan shrugged, "What else can we do? At least we’ve survived a catastrophe."

"That mad dash exhausted me – I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever pushed Lingyun Step." He turned to Fang Yuan, "Keep those unused talismans. This world’s dangerous enough – they might save your life next time."

Despite being an adult, Fang Yuan showed no embarrassment at being advised by a teenager. "Thank you, I’ll guard them carefully."

Blue Star still hosted countless ordinary people with negligible cultivation. Though the nation advocated spiritual practice, some lacked aptitude like academic strugglers abandoning education after basic schooling.

The Awakening of Spiritual Energy had simply not been around long enough. Only after years or decades would the true cultivation era arrive.

"Now that we’re safe," Wen Renyi interjected, "shouldn’t we address our identity problem?"

Jiang Yan nodded. "This modern society makes Identity Cards essential. But as Unregistered Beings, we can’t obtain them legally."

"Any bright ideas, Ms. Wen? With a computer, I could hack the household registry."

"We need physical fakes first." She waved a small ad torn from a lamppost. "The Year 2020 lacks digital Identity Cards."

"Your call." Jiang Yan slung his backpack over both shoulders.

"Phone," Wen Renyi demanded.

The boy tossed his device over, addressing Fang Yuan. "Sticking with us or going solo?"

As Special Bureau agents, protocol required protecting Zhongxia citizens from Another World – but never through coercion.

"I’ll stay. I’d be dead without you," Fang Yuan answered instantly.

"Then follow orders." Jiang Yan’s nod finalized the arrangement.

Wen Renyi had already completed the call, securing their rendezvous details.

One hour later:

"This rivals our ten-kilometer forced marches!" Jiang Yan complained through labored breaths. "Who posts advertisements this remotely?"

"Less whining, more walking," came the curt response.

The second-tier city in Dongzhou Federation’s east presented modern facades above ground, but its aging underbelly writhed with labyrinthine alleys.

Wen Renyi took point – Jiang Yan’s youthful appearance and Fang Yuan’s nervous stammering disqualified them as negotiators.

The counterfeit workshop’s proprietor eyed the trio. "Who needs papers?"

"All three."

"Five hundred each. Fifteen hundred total."

Wen Renyi shot Jiang Yan a meaningful glance.

The teen suddenly found the ceiling and walls fascinating.

The civil servant suppressed an eye-roll. Though resolved to this lawless approach, her bureaucratic dignity winced at strong-arming fake documents.

"Boss," she stepped forward, "might we converse privately?"

Five minutes later.

The two counterfeiters lay bruised and bloodied. For practitioners like them, subduing ordinary people proved effortless—Wen Renyi had knocked one out with two precise strikes while securing free forged Identity Cards from the other.

The delay stemmed entirely from their "fundraising efforts."

Jiang Yan sat nearby thumbing through crimson banknotes. Survival required pragmatism—without funds, they couldn’t navigate this world. Their arrival from Blue Star left them penniless; Zhongxia’s digital payment systems and phone apps lay useless here. Thus began their reluctant "borrowing" campaign from Water Blue Star’s residents.

The battered forgers worked through swollen eyes, misery etched into their faces as they crafted illicit documents.

"Cheer up," Jiang Yan chimed, counting stolen bills. "We’ll repay you 1,100 for every 1,000 borrowed. Promise."

Fang Yuan watched the thinly veiled robbery unfold. "This feels wrong."

"Necessity breeds invention." Jiang Yan’s eyelid fluttered in mock innocence. "My future riches will settle debts."

Thirty minutes later, the trio strode away with forged credentials, waved off by their reluctant benefactors.

Jiang Yan flicked his counterfeit Identity Card. "Let’s find an Internet café."

"Risky with fakes," Wen Renyi cautioned.

Water Blue Star’s early-digital era posed challenges—ubiquitous electronic payments demanded legitimate identities. Jiang Yan grinned. "Leave that to my technical expertise."

Two days later, virtual financial accounts bloomed across cyberspace, siphoning unclaimed funds from shadowy transactions. With secured finances, the group approached a rental agency.

"Why not hotels?" Wen Renyi asked as they inspected apartments.

"Prolonged stays need roots." Jiang Yan lounged on a sofa. "Don’t worry—my siphoned funds are digital dust. Authorities won’t notice twenty-year tech gaps." He smirked. "I’d eat my keyboard otherwise."

Their conversation halted as Fang Yuan emerged pale from the bathroom.

"This place… feels wrong."

Wen Renyi’s gaze sharpened. "Sensed something?"

"…A ghost."

Jiang Yan groaned. "Perfect."

The confrontation ended swiftly—a vengeful spirit seeking substitutes. When peaceful resolution failed, they shattered its essence, watching malevolent energy dissolve. Though wronged in life, the entity’s murderous legacy justified their merciless purge.

If this were on Blue Star, any cultivator encountering such beings would shatter their souls without hesitation. Yet with the Underworld’s presence, such specters rarely manifest—and when they do, the Eighteen Floors of Hell claim them swiftly for their fiery trials.

The torments within could reduce even the fiercest evil ghosts to trembling quails.

"Found it."

"This world’s far more complex than it appears." Jiang Yan booted his new laptop, fingers flying across keys. His superior technological prowess soon breached a restricted portal.

Wen Renyi peered over his shoulder. "The Global Anomalies Exchange Network?"

The screen scrolled downward…

Water Blue Star’s folklore brimmed with tales of unkillable entities called anomalies—creatures only restrainable by their own kind. This primal truth burned within every anomaly since creation’s dawn.

Through decades of suffering, humanity learned it too.

They organized anomaly response units, recruited ghost-harboring humans as living weapons. Yet even these human vessels crumbled before stronger entities, constantly battling parasitic possession that could consume them from within.

"Desperate measures," Jiang Yan tskked, watching a surveillance feed of glowing veins spreading through a host’s neck. "Walking corpses trading slow death for fleeting power."

Wen Renyi adjusted her jade hairpin. "When kitchen knives face artillery, even broken glass becomes a weapon."

"No wonder our formations drew them so easily." Jiang Yan zoomed in on a spectral containment report. "This world’s defense strategy? Fight fire with wildfire."

Their mission hung unspoken between them—assimilate this realm before it devours Blue Star. Two worlds colliding, survival justifying all means.

"Prior reconnaissance," Wen Renyi murmured, eyes reflecting scrolling data. "The anomalies represent this world’s sole deviation from standard modernity."

Jiang Yan’s hacking tools dissected encrypted files. Between firewalls, two case studies emerged—Ghost Call and Borrowed Lifespan. Both rooted in Dongzhou Federation territory, their seventy and forty-year legacies earning S-class and A-class classifications.

"Tier-two entities with expanding domains," he muttered, replaying security footage of phantom phone booths materializing in shopping districts. "We got lucky in our last encounter. Unleashed domains would’ve…"

Five kilometers east, beneath festival lanterns still dangling from last week’s celebrations, Youyang traced characters in the air with qinggong grace. The plaza’s security cameras showed nothing unusual—just another traditional dancer lingering post-festival.

Five days prior, she’d materialized mid-conversation with Brother Leng, his outstretched hand still haunting her peripheral vision. Five days observing this world’s rhythms, her butterfly skirt fluttering through crowds where hanfu-clad women blended seamlessly with modern fashion.

The Special Bureau’s containment protocols meant nothing here. She smiled, vapor condensing into ice flowers above her palm—a hidden message for those who knew to read winter’s language.

From time to time, people approached with hesitant smiles, asking if they might take photos with her.

Were it not for her certainty of having left Blue Star behind, Youyang would struggle to believe this Another World differed at all from her former home.

The cultivator sighed, her slender fingers brushing against veil fabric. Uncertainty gripped her – what path should she follow now?

An insistent intuition rooted her to this place, its source pulsing from the commercial colossus before her. Though she’d scoured its corridors twice already, no secrets revealed themselves. Only this persistent whisper in her soul kept her from departing days prior.

Moon Lake Wonderland’s constraints had shackled her cultivation since childhood. But when Spiritual Energy awakened and celestial gates reopened, her power surged unimpeded to tier two’s pinnacle.

Alienation bit deeper than hunger she no longer felt. Nights found her perched on plaza benches until dawn’s light birthed new crowds. Now her gaze sharpened on the mall’s glass facade.

One final inspection. Then she’d abandon this fruitless vigil.

The veiled maiden’s ensemble drew eyes – azure silks fluttering about a form bearing the paulownia zither. Yet familiarity bred indifference; after days of sightings, locals barely glanced her way.

On the anniversary’s closing day, Youyang crossed the threshold… and froze mid-step.

Change.

Reality warped before her widened eyes. The luminous consumer paradise dissolved into shadowy depths, earlier visitors vanishing like smoke. Walls undulated as unseen forces kneaded space itself.

Ghostly energy? Not precisely…

Beyond the glass doors, patrol cars screeched to halt. Officers unfurled crimson barriers as onlookers gathered.

"Blast it!" A black-uniformed man slammed fist into palm, staring at where azure fabric had disappeared. "Seconds faster and…"

"Captain Zhao." An aide hurried forward, tablet glowing. "Ghostly energy detection confirms A-class anomaly at minimum. Distorted space parameters keep climbing."

"Full squad ready?"

"Awaiting orders."

"Move in."

…

Youyang’s slippers whispered across tiles that shouldn’t exist. This alternate space overlapped the physical mall like malignant fungus, its permeable border ensnaring random patrons.

Five days among ordinary people suggested either a Practitioner-less modern world, or hidden adepts avoiding public eyes. Clearly, truth bent toward the latter.

Malevolence hung thicker than the unnatural mists. She’d suppressed her cultivation to pedestrian levels – whoever crafted this prison saw only another victim.

The veiled head tilted. Frost formed where her breath met warped air.

Without warning, she pivoted – silk flaring in sudden motion. There, in the shifting gloom, a pallid mannequin lurched forward on jerking plastic limbs.

Suddenly, the plastic body mannequin collapsed into pieces, its head and limbs scattering across the floor before rolling to rest at Youyang’s feet.

Youyang glanced downward to find bright red blood gushing from the hollow eyes of the synthetic head, crimson rivulets trickling around her embroidered slippers and staining their delicate fabric.

Her brow furrowed slightly.

This simply wouldn’t do.

With a motion that blended unrefined practicality with innate grace, she extended her foot and sent the plastic visage skittering away with a precise kick.

"Hiding your head but revealing your tail." Youyang’s frosty gaze swept the dim surroundings, lips curling with cold amusement. "If concealment pleases you, then master your craft. Fail…and I’ll demonstrate how dismemberment perfects the art of dying."

From her sleeve emerged a talisman – pristine parchment adorned with cerulean spiritual patterns that glimmered faintly.

The cultivator clasped the charm between two fingers, spiritual energy humming through her veins as she sent it darting forward.

The talisman hovered midair, suspended half a meter away. With an elegant wave, Youyang coalesced the blood staining her slippers into glistening blood beads, flicking them onto the parchment with a snap of her fingers.

"Fly."

At her command, the talisman quivered before streaking through the shadows like a comet. Youyang trailed gracefully behind, maintaining a precise distance from the blazing sigil regardless of its velocity.

Though the blood bore human essence, its metallic tang carried strange undernotes – fingerprints of whatever entity governed this twisted realm. The plastic mannequin’s crude theatrics suggested feeble intimidation attempts, though its operator had clearly underestimated her perception.

This bizarre dimension’s oddities might have escaped her attention had they not provoked first. But now? Courtesy demanded reciprocity.

Ancient wisdom whispered through her thoughts: "It is discourteous to receive without returning the gesture."

The space’s expanse surprised her. Barriers of such magnitude required immense power to sustain, yet after ten minutes of pursuit, the talisman finally stilled above its quarry.

A corpse lay contorted beneath – features obliterated beneath congealed blood, frozen expression eternally screaming of horrors witnessed. The death rictus mirrored one who’d stared into the abyss…or perhaps encountered an evil ghost.

If not a barrier, could this be a ghostly dwelling? Such domains manifested as self-contained realities when malevolent spirits unleashed their power.

Youyang’s fingers brushed her chin thoughtfully. The ambient energy differed from typical ghostly presence – less the chill of spectral void, more metallic bitterness clinging to the tongue.

The corpse’s lacerations spoke of blade work, though whether blood loss or darker forces caused death remained unclear. Speculation proved futile; truth would emerge when she dragged the puppeteer from shadows.

A fresh blood droplet merged with the talisman, reigniting its luminous trail. Residual energy here outpowered the mannequin’s traces tenfold. The trail burned brighter now – the hidden jester’s curtain would soon fall.

Through labyrinthine passages strewn with corpses, Youyang pursued until the path terminated in a cavernous chamber. There loomed her quarry – a two-meter-tall evil ghost radiating palpable malice, its distorted humanoid form resembling nightmares clawed from hell’s furnace.

Yet the cultivator’s eyes narrowed with newfound interest. For within the chamber’s depths, other spectral entities stirred – uninvited guests at this deadly revelry.

Well, calling it a ghost would be incorrect; it was clearly a human being possessed by ghostly entities.

On the other side of the battle between the monsters, several ordinary people crouched together, holding their heads and shivering in fear.

Among those she was tracking, there were helpless ordinary people crying in fear, and a few who, possessed by the monsters, struggled with strength around mid-tier one to the pinnacle of tier two.

The ghostly being that Youyang was following noticed her; at this moment, she appeared as an ordinary person, and if there was any difference, it was that she remained more composed than those on the other side.

“Get to the side and hide,” shouted a person in a black uniform at her.

Youyang quickly made her judgment; among the three parties before her, she only needed to help one.

“A pinnacle tier two ghost.” She murmured to herself, reflecting on how chaotic the world was, with this level of ghost appearing.

However, didn’t this indirectly imply that this world possessed a power system similar to Spiritual Energy?

—Although she found nothing on those people.

Youyang untied the guqin from her back.

Though she didn’t fully understand this world, it seemed to her that the method these people used to let the monsters possess them for strength was rather misguided.

The corners of Youyang’s mouth lifted slightly beneath her veil, and the qin floated a foot in front of her.

“I come to lend you a helping hand.”

Then, her graceful hands plucked the strings, producing a clear sound, and a crescent-shaped blue arc shot toward the massive ghost.

The arc struck the ghost, causing it to let out a howl, creating a deep wound where it hit, and black mist continuously poured out and dissipated.

The ghost decisively abandoned the ordinary people before it and charged toward Youyang.

It clearly understood who posed the greater threat.

Zhao Yunfei observed this woman for the first time; she remained calm and composed, showing no fear even in the face of a ghost.

The beautiful, melodious sound flowing from her delicate fingers exuded gentleness, unknowingly washing away the fear in people’s hearts.

Yet, this was only for them; for the ghost, it was more damaging than a sharp blade. One could almost see the arcs landing on the ghost, eliciting a furious roar from it as it swiped its ghostly claws, causing people to unconsciously break into a sweat for the beautiful woman.

Zhao Yunfei even felt that the ghost lurking inside him, which stirred with each use, seemed to be under immense threat from this qin music, quickly retreating.

The other party’s appearance was so distinctive that Zhao Yunfei easily recalled her as the last person to enter the mall.

“Boss, should we go help?”

Zhao Yunfei shook his head. “We can’t help.”

As the ghost slowly closed in on Youyang, she spun gracefully, creating a swirl of her skirt as she stepped back two paces; getting too close would hinder her from using the qin.

But who said she could only play the qin?

Her major was in music, but that didn’t mean she was ignorant of other skills.

Youyang deftly secured the long sword from below the qin, storing the qin in her storage ring, and with a swing of her sword, she charged at the ghost.

Her cousin was the incredibly talented Leng Xingwen in Swordsmanship, and her sword technique was taught to her by him, so how could it be lacking?

A fierce battle was inevitable.

Fortunately, this was a ghostly dwelling, an alternate space independent of reality, so her actions here wouldn’t affect the real world. This allowed Youyang some freedom to unleash her abilities.

…When Youyang beheaded the ghost, and it turned to ashes and scattered, it signified the end of the battle.

"Did the mysterious entity retreat?" someone murmured in bewilderment.

"Not retreating, but…" Zhao Yunfei gazed at the vacant space where the spectral creature had vanished, his voice trailing off as if fearing to voice the unthinkable.

Those familiar with supernatural entities longed to destroy them, yet since their first emergence, neither individuals nor nations had succeeded. These beings never perish – their temporary withdrawal merely heralds darker resurgences. Though Zhao Yunfei knew this truth, a fragile hope flickered within him. Never had he witnessed an entity dissolve into ethereal smoke like this.

Youyang sheathed her sword with a ceremonial flourish. "The danger has passed."

Her declaration unleashed pent-up emotions. Survivors wept openly, their tears mingling relief with lingering terror.

Approaching the swordswoman, Zhao Yunfei ventured cautiously, "What exactly did you do to that entity?"

As they spoke, the oppressive darkness evaporated like morning mist, revealing the familiar contours of a shopping mall atrium. Unnoticed during the crisis, the building had been silently evacuated.

*

When the last wraith dissolved, the slumbering world consciousness of Water Blue Star stirred briefly beneath cosmic currents before settling into deeper dormancy.

Not yet.

Blue Star.

Heavenly Law Battleground.

Characters flickered across the weathered surface of the Heavenly Law Ancient Stone Tablet, unchanged for thirty dawns until this moment:

【World- Level, Devour Progress 5%, Fall Progress 5%.】

Pandemonium erupted across digital networks. Within minutes, every phone screen bloomed with apocalyptic speculations.

Special Bureau Headquarters.

Lin Jing’s finger hovered over his phone before decisively contacting Leng Xingwen. "I require your expertise."

"If this concerns the Ancient Stone Tablet, I’m already en route."

The connection severed. Two minutes later, Leng Xingwen breached Lin Jing’s office to find him mid-conversation with Jiang Nan, reigning Champion of the Battleground.

"Why identical progression rates?" Lin Jing pressed the phone to his ear. "The public hysteria alone – yes, I understand you’re consulting higher authorities. Keep me informed."

Turning to his visitor, Lin Jing cut to the chase: "Can you reach Xiao Tianji?"

Leng Xingwen’s composure cracked. "I’ve turned both realms upside down! The third world’s emergence, Youyang’s disappearance – yet the celestial calculator remains unreachable."

"You suspect deliberate avoidance?"

"Even occupied, he’d send word. My theory? He’s crossed into that other dimension."

Lin Jing’s silence acknowledged the grim possibility. "…Certainty?"

"Conjecture only." Leng Xingwen eyed his colleague. "You seek divination regarding the tablet?"

"More than that." Lin Jing gestured to surveillance feeds showing strange silhouettes. "These interlopers from Another World… we’ve failed to contain them. With doomsday cults spreading…"

A firm hand gripped his shoulder. "Should skies fracture, the tallest will bear the burden. Should civilizations crumble… remember the Major Deities’ covenant."

World Tree Summit.

Ye Linlang’s exclusive office.

The Major Deity sneezed delicately, golden eyes scanning holographic projections. "5% Devourment? Behind schedule." Her nail tapped the shimmering interface. "Patience. The critical threshold approaches."

System alerts cascaded – frantic messages from Leng Xingwen regarding the absent diviner. Ye Linlang sighed. Xiao Tianji’s current mission in the fragment world "Mysterious Awakening" remained classified.

New data streams glittered: Water Blue Star’s socio-cultural patterns mirroring Blue Star’s modernity. "Status update on their world consciousness?"

【Your Excellency, transient arousal detected during the Fall Progress shift. Current state: dormant.】

A knowing smile curved Ye Linlang’s lips. "Mirror strategies. How quaint." Her gaze hardened. "Arrogant little consciousness, banking on victory? The scales were never balanced."

Through the crystalline walls, the World Tree’s branches glittered with captive realities, their faint cries echoing through the infinite.