Chapter Fifty: Fortune Does Not Last Beyond Three Generations

I Am Just a Cloud Little Ground Prophet Worm 2414 words 2026-04-13 16:44:14

“Hmph, do you think that just because you’ve reached the Focus Stage, you can rule this little world with a single hand? There are heavens beyond heavens, immortals beyond mortals—the distance between man and immortal is like grains of sand gazing up at the stars!”

As the Immortal Emperor Luo spoke, strands of sword energy drifted forth. King Dou was about to use his immortal legs to resist, but recalling Wuyun’s instructions, he could only grit his teeth and endure, coughing up blood as he did. Along with Long Yi, Little Worm, and Old Bear, none could withstand even a single blow. The moment they advanced, they became targets for the sword energy, cut down in an instant.

Immortal Emperor Luo wielded his blade with relish. Amidst Xin Hao’s praise, a sweep of his sleeve conjured a universe within, enveloping everyone—including Wuyun—and they vanished without a trace.

Then, a powerful aura descended. The Tiger-faced Immortal, holding a collar-shaped bell, looked on disdainfully. “Hand everyone over to me and I’ll leave at once.”

Immortal Emperor Luo eyed Wuyun, who struggled bitterly within the array inside his body, pondering as he spoke, “You are a beast of the Twenty-seventh Immortal Realm, Tiger-faced Immortal. Our trade guild spans the vast immortal realms, and we have records of your rise.”

“Words are useless. Your spatial trade guild has little influence in my immortal realm, surviving only by passing around a few secret arts and techniques. I know that if I kill your people, I must pay accordingly. These two on the left and right, plus the previous four, make six in total—name your price!” The Tiger-faced Immortal showed not a hint of fear, bargaining incessantly.

To Xin Hao’s astonishment, Immortal Emperor Luo truly struck a deal—one secret art in exchange for six lives.

“Sir, these two are part of our guild…”

Before Xin Hao could finish, a wave of pressure suppressed him, forcing him to spit blood. Immortal Emperor Luo’s tone was cold: “My arrival means the Qianluo Spatial Guild will never have a branch here again. As for matters between Tiger-faced Immortal and Shengba, I will not interfere.”

However, after obtaining the secret art, Immortal Emperor Luo shook his head. “No. This secret art already exists in our immortal realm. Choose another!”

“Hmph! Trying to go back on your word? Allow me to send you back to the immortal realm!”

The Tiger-faced Immortal roared, unleashing his fury. He first summoned an army of three hundred thousand from the Seven-Qi Nation and commanded a thunderous strike. Then, his bell unleashed its power—three streams of magical energy spun and intertwined, branching into countless snarling tiger heads.

Next, the Tiger-faced Immortal spat out an object, which fit perfectly into the groove of his collar, forming a new, oppressive force—the power of imperial might!

This time, Immortal Emperor Luo saw clearly: it was a badge bearing a cat motif. Once combined, the weapon’s force equaled one ten-thousandth of an Immortal Emperor’s attack in the immortal realm.

This strike was abrupt and devastating—not only aimed to kill Immortal Emperor Luo, but also to sweep up Wuyun and the others, indifferent to their survival, intending to collect their drifting souls from space.

The Tiger-faced Immortal had no need for living captives.

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Immortal Emperor Luo was shocked. He had only tried to sweeten the deal, but never expected the Tiger-faced Immortal to turn so suddenly—this wasn’t the way of the Demon Emperor. Even in the immortal realm, emperors did not betray each other mid-negotiation. Could it be that all cat demons of the Twenty-seventh Immortal Realm were so capricious?

Attack upon attack came relentlessly. No matter how Immortal Emperor Luo summoned his mysterious Dao treasure sphere for its greatest power, it had no effect. Especially the imperial might—one ten-thousandth was enough to pierce his consciousness.

Stunned, cursing his own reckless tongue, Immortal Emperor Luo suddenly felt the world spin—light and darkness alternated—and his consciousness arrived in an unknown place.

Birdsong and fragrant blossoms, immortal energy rising gently from the earth! How could this be the immortal realm? Had his consciousness escaped? Confused, Immortal Emperor Luo forgot all about Long Yun and the others, wandering and observing.

Imagine—merely a strand of consciousness, severed from its body, what could it truly discern?

In a flash, the world shifted: gravity, tearing forces, illusions, all manner of spells, real weapons attacking…

Within a single stick of incense’s time, under the Tiger-faced Immortal’s hand, consciousness was obliterated, the mysterious sphere shattered, and all fed to the array, strengthening it further!

Meanwhile, the Tiger-faced Immortal’s expression darkened, for the scene before him displayed the Sword Mountain Sect reduced to rubble.

He witnessed with utmost clarity the moment the Divine Thunder of the Nine Heavens struck down Shengba, his eyes burning with rage. With a furious roar, imperial might surged around him.

A double blow—nineteen small array diagrams in Wuyun’s palm suddenly merged, trapping him. The scene shifted again, returning them to the vastness of space.

Surviving the ordeal, Xin Hao immediately recognized those who emerged—Wuyun and the others—and his heart sank with foreboding.

For Wuyun’s first act was to rescue Yue Luohua and others trapped within the treasure palace.

“This, this…” Xin Hao stammered, the imperial might earlier had nearly claimed his life. He mustered the courage to ask, “Did the Immortal Emperor release you?”

“Only an Immortal Emperor could resist imperial might. You must have been released by him, yes, released!” Xin Hao’s voice grew wild, laughing to himself. He pointed at the hundreds of God-breaking experts behind him, shouting, “Seize them! No matter who wins in the end, as long as they don’t escape, there’s hope for us!”

“Ignorant fool!” Long Yi roared in fury. He transformed into his dragon form, an eight-trigram pattern appearing before him. Those God-breaking experts, whether advancing or hesitating, were all trapped inside.

Then, another roar. Xin Hao, as if possessed, involuntarily walked toward Wuyun and, with a sweep, knelt in space.

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Wuyun scolded, “How could you use soul-capturing techniques?”

Long Yi looked innocent, “I swear, elder, I only coughed—a pure clearing of my throat!”

“Could it be, he did it willingly?”

Everyone exchanged bewildered glances. Sure enough, Xin Hao burst out crying, bowing before Wuyun and sobbing, “Elder, elder, my father instructed us to obey your commands. It was me, foolish as I am, controlled by that mysterious sphere, unable to help myself, committing such outrageous acts. Elder, spare me!”

“Elder Wuyun, this scoundrel must not be spared!” From within the treasure palace, the Copper Furnace shouted, “He ruined our cultivation, and along the way, hundreds perished from lack of oxygen in space. Elder, kill him!”

“Kill him!”

“Kill him!”

A chorus of furious voices erupted from the array prison in the palace. Wuyun’s expression shifted again and again. Suddenly, Xin Hao, still kneeling, sprang up, clutching Wuyun’s leg with one hand and offering a massive, watermelon-sized black sphere with the other, shouting, “I can’t die! The prison is filled with these explosive sky-thunders. If I die, you’ll all perish with me!”

“Don’t come any closer. One more step and we die together!”

The crowd stepped back. Wuyun, with Xin Hao clinging to his leg, sighed softly, “Fortune does not last beyond three generations. You, as the second, are leading the Xinqi family to ruin. If Ergoudan Immortal Realm hears of this, will they still marry and have children, forgetting you all?”

“You…”

Before Xin Hao could finish, he saw his hand trembling uncontrollably. In his mind, something entered—a sheet of silvery white.

He was about to detonate everything, seeking mutual destruction, when he discovered that apart from his eyelids, nothing else obeyed his will.

It was Old Bear’s doing—his specialty. Silently, he threaded Xin Hao’s body with strands of silver silk, ignoring all his treasures and protective energy, weaving him from head to toe as if knitting a sweater.