105 The Lady is Paramount

Wei Yi knew his cultivation was no match for the Black Demon King, so he decisively chose to strike first without any hesitation. The primal fire surged forth with full force, and the Thirteen Heavenly Fire Swords instantly transformed into blazing sword lights dozens of meters long, roaring forward.

Steward Li and Manager Feng responded almost simultaneously. Nearby, Jiang Shutu subtly shook his head.

Outside, dark clouds gathered densely, as if lightning was imminent! Within the cloud layer, everyone could see the shadow of a giant bird gliding.

Xiao Chen issued orders. Though he appeared casual in his actions, he saw things deeply. The reason he left You Zhang in Pegasus City was precisely because he feared You Yunling’s betrayal. After all, she had only recently arrived in Pegasus Kingdom, and with his impending departure, caution was necessary.

Bei Mu Jing continued studying the sketches, making corrections throughout the morning until the design was slightly improved.

At the Huayao Sacred Land, Xiao Changqing was up to something unknown. He had dispatched the four elders to hold the eastern front, accompanied by other elites from the sacred land.

At the moment the formation was destroyed, Ye Chen immediately sensed it. He suddenly opened his eyes and furrowed his brow.

The young man had been watching silently beside them. As the shop’s attendant, he naturally couldn’t interfere with the customer’s decisions — that was the rule in this trade. So when Niu Taishuai spoke, he did not interrupt, and Qin Yun’s choice not to replace the stone was also his right.

The Grand Elder nodded upon hearing this. The overall strength of the Abyssal World was indeed a tier above Jiuzhou; he had known this long ago, so Wei Yi’s words did not surprise him.

“All right, don’t worry about this matter anymore. Do you need me for something?” Fang Jueqian picked out two cups that Ning Zhixian hadn’t smashed and poured tea.

Lian Yin opened his eyes wide. Earlier, he had always felt he lacked the talent for cultivation, but how had he never realized that he was simply unsuited for swordsmanship?

The day before, a conversation with Zhao Yingran had refreshed Zhou Penghao’s understanding of the university as a quiet Don River.

Facing the swarming Xiongnu soldiers, Yan Hua wielded a long sword, directing the energy within his body into his wrist and then into the blade.

“Training camp?!” Ying raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t it too hasty to discuss training camps when the regional preliminaries hadn’t even ended?

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It was clear that the plain-clothed man had miscalculated after a thousand years. Seeking Wang Lingyun’s help? Impossible. Besides watching the drama and self-preservation, she was useless. Recognizing this, Wang Lingyun gave up struggling and began to live leisurely here.

Like the orangutans in a zoo, no matter if they could drive, play games, or use computers, they would never be seen as equals.

From their perspective, hoping to defeat Lin Feng with the current armies of the two nations was nothing but a fool’s dream.

“It’s not important. I’m just curious — if you die, who would be unhappy?” Gu Yu spoke plainly, his purpose simple.

After being cursed, not only was his appearance ruined, but so was his cultivation. Since then, his personality changed, and he never left home. Yet his methods were cruel and ruthless.

After sitting down, Wu Bin reported to Gu Chengyuan the reason for arriving so early while waiting for breakfast.

Mo Shang clenched his teeth silently. Being publicly defeated by Yi Yun was a blow to his pride, but he was helpless. Thinking of that terrifying sword strike, he felt powerless.

Before him, Huang Weiguo knelt trembling, barely daring to breathe, his forehead covered in sweat.

“We came once this morning already. I guess they won’t come again until tomorrow,” the nearby manager said with a smirk.

At the order, over a dozen king-class warships from the First Universe charged toward the battlefield. Yet those strange enemy ships were cunning; they turned and fled as soon as the king-class ships approached, their speed no less than the king-class vessels.

The boarding announcement began over the broadcast. Disguised stone gold experts holding tickets arrived at the boarding gate, ready to embark.

“Qin Zhong, I didn’t expect your Qin family to become so despicable as to launch a sneak attack,” Fang Xuanjing sneered.

But why hadn’t he returned? Was it intentional concession, fearing Mo Xiaosheng’s punishment of the ten soldiers?

Loka gestured politely. Xiao Long led the way out, Xigu followed, and the Chris brothers exchanged glances before hurrying off. The others in the bar gradually recovered.

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Leng Bing entered the adjacent gym, where Sun Jing approached. But upon seeing Leng Bing’s group, displeasure darkened her face.

“Your illness is too special. Ordinary methods no longer work,” Hong Xia said, releasing his wrist, then touching his hand, and finally his face.

In no time, autumn arrived, and Sun Tutu was to face the executioner. The death sentence had already been approved by the Ministry of Justice.

Lin Daoyi was puzzled, thinking that Song Jiangong died on the campaign, and after killing the Song family’s matriarch, the remaining people were inconsequential.

Yun Hua frowned slightly, said “Excuse me,” then reached out, wrapped her shoulder, and steadied her firmly.

Looking around, she recalled that not far ahead was a cluster of houses destroyed by floods. In a corner grew thick grass. After some thought, Hong Dou headed in that direction.

Only then did Li Shengnan’s father breathe a sigh of relief as he examined the dormitory. When Li Shengnan carried a basin of water into the room, her father’s face lit up with joy.

Yue Ruzheng’s parents were ordinary cultivators, not from any noble lineage. Relying on the family head’s decent talent, they lived contentedly within the Wan’an Sect.

One hand grabbed her wrists, dragging her inside. “Bang!” The door slammed shut, followed by the crashing of thrown objects. Afterwards, all was quiet.

According to Buddhist teachings, this level equated to a Great Virtuous Saint Monk; Confucianism would call it a Sub-Sage; the Vatican described it as a demigod; and among the supernatural, it corresponded to a Level 5 psychic.

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