Chapter Thirty-Three: Outbreak

"No, that's not it, Second Uncle! I—I was really beaten by the Fourth Sister!"

Seeing Li Wenxin continue to make unreasonable trouble, Li Zelin’s patience ran thin, and the warmth in his eyes vanished.

"Xin’er, this is the last time I will say this: move! Do not make me do it myself!"

Seeing that Li Zelin had lost his former gentle demeanor and was truly prepared to take action, Old Lady Luo and the others standing nearby felt a chill in their hearts, their own expressions shifting accordingly.

"Second son, I am not dead yet! This family will not be ruled by you!"

Although it was still far too early for his father to retire, cultivating a master blacksmith was no small feat; it would be impossible for her to reach the level of a Sacred Artisan in less than fifteen or twenty years.

Though he had reached middle age, he was well-preserved and looked to be only in his early thirties. He wore a handlebar mustache, and his eyes were sharp and shrewd.

The Writers’ Association, the Martial Arts Association, the Mystery Association, and the Fantasy Association had all extended invitations to Gu Jiu, but without exception, every single one was rejected.

The moment Zhuohua unleashed that strike, she felt a fluctuation in the spiritual power within her body. The long-standing barrier to her cultivation seemed to have loosened slightly.

He knew that in this situation, if he allowed this Earth Immortal-level Lord of Darkness to successfully self-detonate, not only would he be unable to withstand it, but the human ancestors fighting alongside him would suffer devastating losses.

Unable to gain any leverage against Chu Qiao, Dai Mubai could only puff out his chest and seek a sense of presence in front of Zhu Zhuqing.

Zhuohua felt as though she were submerged in darkness, with inexplicable snatches of conversation constantly echoing in her mind.

To survive in Yanjing, Liang Xinghuai went to sing in bars, only to be pointed at and told to get off the stage.

Shen Yue put the items he had scavenged back into his pack and tried on the few pieces of clothing they had brought. Finding them a bit too large but still wearable, he promptly changed out of his tattered rags and tossed them into the pit.

Three Saint-level and seven or eight Heaven-level experts—this lineup was enough to resolve most problems.

At this very moment, Murong Xin and Tu Feng were burning with anxiety. They were worried not only about Chu Tianyu’s inability to attend the Martial Arts Tournament but also for his safety.

Lu Zizhi took a deep breath, and the last shred of contempt vanished without a trace. No longer underestimating his opponent, he focused his strength into his sword, furrowed his brows, and charged forward. Before he even reached his target, he swung his blade, unleashing two faint orange sword beams. Long Tianwei parried with his jade fan, blocking both beams before countering the incoming sword with another sweep of his fan.

Ying Si was extremely satisfied with the performance of his elite members; their strict discipline and efficient actions were not a whit inferior to the elite members of the Bai Baihe that he had seen before.

To say he wasn't nervous would be a lie, but Li Xun truly longed to have another grand battle.

"I—I am in the United States," a flicker of helplessness mixed with disappointment crossed Han Chang’s eyes.

Duan Qiu didn't need to guess to know what it was; it was likely a cultivation manual or a piece of equipment that could conceal the Abyss Plane or protect those in the Prime Plane from being eroded by abyssal matter.

Even if it were only a matter of speculation, they would still stir up conflict; their true objective was merely to flex their martial strength and intimidate those around them.

"Six! Six! Six!..." Zhang Yifeng and the others watched the spinning dice intently, shouting together at the top of their lungs, spittle flying. The atmosphere was as heated as a grand casino filled with hundreds of people.

The moment he saw the stone statue, he immediately became alert. He had never imagined that Chen Jing’s magic would be so miraculous and sinister, impossible to guard against.

What they did not know was that this Si Nan was no longer the Si Nan they once knew; his body had long since been occupied by a powerful soul from another world—a peerless genius named Song Zining.

With two such peerless geniuses in the State of Wu, it was not impossible for the nation to become the greatest superpower in the Southern Wilderness, or even to unify it entirely.