Chapter 119

Chapter 119: Breaking Out

Rainbow Peak fell by degrees. Mist Peak belonged to Cold Domain Lord Zhu Cheng.

Only Xia Peak remained.

That was where the highest-level battle raged.

Star-Refining Realm combat was impossible for ordinary eyes to follow. The starry sky twisted like fabric, distortion rippling through distant stars.

“You pretending you offended a mighty expert and were heavily wounded,” Wen Guan’s voice carried, sharp with fury. “It was all a lie. A con from beginning to end.”

Kuang Xiao laughed, the sound like grinding stone. “You humans really think you’re clever?”

“This isn’t something you devised,” Wen Guan snapped. “And it isn’t Little Round Lake’s doing either. Who is behind you? The Fourth Star Chain? That doesn’t fit.”

In Frostflower Domain’s Inner Bazaar, amid chaotic streets, an old crone lifted her head.

Her voice was low, yet it traveled into the starry sky, slipping between worlds to reach Wen Guan and Kuang Xiao.

“If I’m not mistaken,” she said, “it’s Xuan Gate.”

Wen Guan’s face tightened. He looked toward Kuang Xiao, shock flaring.

Kuang Xiao turned toward the Inner Bazaar. “You’re still alive?”

The old crone exhaled a tired sigh and stepped forward.

Each step crossed an impossible distance. In a blink she stood in the starry sky. In another blink she was at the battlefield itself.

“I wanted to die cleanly,” she said. “You wouldn’t let me.”

Wen Guan stared. “Supreme Elder… how did you conclude it was Xuan Gate?”

The old crone’s gaze turned distant, heavy with old suspicion. “Long ago I thought about it. In the Third Nebula’s nine star chains, the one most eager to break away should have been the First Star Chain. Xuan Gate is strongest. Richest. Most ambitious. If anyone wanted to overturn the table, it would be them—not the Fourth Star Chain.”

“But they hid for years,” she continued. “And even now, we can’t find concrete evidence.”

A voice came from afar, amused and smooth.

“As expected of Xing Xue of Frostflower Sect. Even without evidence, you still named us.”

The old crone turned.

A middle-aged man stepped out of the starry sky with an iron fan in hand, smiling. The void flowed like a waterfall behind him, dividing space as he walked through it.

“I am Guest Elder Jin Nuo of Xuan Gate,” he said, inclining his head. “Greetings, Senior.”

The old crone studied him, surprise flickering. “So young, and already Star-Refining Realm… Your Excellency’s background is extraordinary.”

Jin Nuo’s smile widened slightly. “Has Senior considered joining Xuan Gate?”

His gaze flicked toward Wen Guan. “If Frostflower Sect merges into Xuan Gate, everything can remain unchanged.”

The old crone shook her head. “Frostflower Sect was founded with the Nan family’s favor and has endured to this day. How could we forget that debt?”

Her voice sharpened.

“Even if our sect is destroyed today, we will fight.”

Jin Nuo sighed, almost disappointed. “Then that’s a shame. Without Frostflower Sect, even if we take the Eighth Star Chain, it will take a long time to integrate resources. That isn’t what Xuan Gate wants. But we have no choice.”

He turned slightly. “Senior Kuang Xiao, make your move. Send Sect Master Wen Guan and Senior Xing Xue on their final journey.”

Xing Xue lifted her chin. “Who sends who isn’t decided yet.”

“Have you heard,” she asked, voice cutting through the warped sky, “of the Zhi family of Ding Chen?”

—

On Deepweight Star, Wang Jie couldn’t see the Star-Refining Realm battle, but he could feel its tremors. The planet shook harder and harder beneath the distant clash.

Little Five stared up at the sky through her puppet’s eyes.

Wang Jie spoke suddenly. “Senior Jiang has made his move, hasn’t he?”

Little Five answered without thinking. “Of course.”

She snapped her head toward him. “You’re fishing again!”

Wang Jie stared back. “That doesn’t count.”

“It counts if I answered.”

“Even if you didn’t, I can feel it,” Wang Jie said. “I was just talking.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

Wang Jie sighed. “Your name is Little Five. Not Little Six. Not Little Seven. See? Even when you don’t answer, I still learn things.”

Little Five shut up completely.

Wang Jie’s stomach twisted with worry.

Silver Radiance Empire.

If Frostflower Sect fell, every affiliated power would get purged. Some might survive by bending the knee. But Silver Radiance Empire was on the edge of the Eighth Star Chain, directly involved in war against the Mad Clan. Their fate would be ugly.

And if Silver Radiance Empire collapsed, the people from Blue Star were finished.

He wanted to run there now—take them away while there was still time.

But Little Five watched him like a blade.

A sudden cold streak fell from above like dew. Wang Jie looked up and saw the starry sky bleaching white—an inverted iceberg of frozen force plunging down.

“What—”

Little Five seized him with the puppet and hurled him into the 180x gravity zone.

The white cold spread, freezing the ground, crawling outward.

Wang Jie slammed into the 180x zone and staggered up.

A figure descended from the sky.

Wang Jie recognized him instantly and shouted, hope flaring. “Steward Liu! Save me!”

Steward Liu—one of Frostflower Sect’s Roaming-Star Realm Stewards—looked down. “So it really is Master Wang.”

Wang Jie had already taken off his mask during the tunneling. And his warning message had spread through the sect.

“It was me,” Wang Jie said, breath ragged. “I sent the message about Lu Luo Kingdom on Deepweight Star.”

“I know,” Steward Liu said.

He opened his mouth to ask something more—

Ice shattered below. Little Five’s puppet burst up like a spear.

Steward Liu’s gaze hardened. “Master Wang, wait. I’ll deal with the enemy first.”

Deal with her?

Wang Jie didn’t believe for a second Steward Liu could win.

A gap inside the same realm could be massive. Wang Jie himself, at Ten Seals, could kill Full-Star Realm Lu Luo Kingdom cannon fodder. But if you replaced them with Frostflower Sect’s true Full-Star Realm elites, it wouldn’t be easy. And if you replaced them with someone like Shu Mu Ye… even Star-Breaking Realm would die in a single blow.

Little Five was Jiang Yun Ji’s granddaughter. She wouldn’t be weak.

Steward Liu’s only advantage might be defense.

And even that wouldn’t hold forever.

Wang Jie forced himself to move.

Little Five had thrown him into the 180x zone to reduce his chances of fleeing, but he’d already adapted to it. He was slow—painfully slow—but he could still walk out.

Behind him, Little Five and Steward Liu clashed.

Each had misjudged the other.

Steward Liu had assumed Little Five would be easy. Little Five had assumed Steward Liu would be crushed quickly.

Instead, Steward Liu’s attacks lacked sharp killing power, but his defenses were stubborn as stone. He dragged the fight out, refusing to fall.

Wang Jie finally crossed out of the 180x zone.

Ahead, he spotted a field of luo bones—dozens, maybe hundreds—strewn across the land like discarded carcasses.

So many.

War transports, likely. Meant to carry troops back to the Sixth Star Chain after the slaughter.

Wang Jie climbed onto one luo bone.

The control system was crude compared to a spacecraft. The power device was obvious.

He was about to activate it when a thought struck.

He glanced back toward the distant fight, then pulled out a sword and placed it beside the luo bone’s power device.

Then he moved to the next luo bone.

And the next.

He placed swords beside power devices across more than a hundred luo bones.

Only then did he board a single luo bone and use Sword Rig to press all those swords down onto their power devices at once.

One by one, luo bones activated.

Dozens. Then hundreds.

They lifted slowly into the air, rising toward space.

In the distance, Steward Liu and Little Five both saw it.

Little Five’s puppet stiffened. “Why are there still so many Lu Luo Kingdom troops?”

Steward Liu’s face turned ashen. “How many enemies—”

Then they realized: these luo bones were rising without direction. Some collided midair, spinning like drunk insects.

Little Five’s fury snapped into place. “He tricked me!”

She attacked, oval blades launching from her puppet toward the rising luo bones.

Halfway there, ice intercepted them.

Steward Liu understood instantly what Wang Jie was doing and threw himself into the line, blocking her.

Little Five’s voice went shrill. “Move!”

Steward Liu’s eyes were cold. “Puppeteer. If you want to capture Master Wang, you go through me.”

Inside his chosen luo bone, Wang Jie watched distant blades occasionally slice through the air, shattering luo bones at random.

So she’d noticed.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

This was the only path left.

He used Sword Rig to steer his own luo bone while pushing the other luo bones into erratic patterns—enough to create the illusion that several might be controlled. Enough to confuse them.

Little Five was still stronger.

Some of her attacks slipped past Steward Liu and struck the luo bones. One blast grazed Wang Jie’s craft so close it nearly tore it apart.

One by one, decoy luo bones fell, their numbers shrinking.

And as they shrank, Wang Jie’s odds improved—because with fewer targets, he could control the patterns better.

By the time only five luo bones remained in the sky, neither Little Five nor Steward Liu could tell which one held Wang Jie.

They could only watch as he shot into open space and vanished into the starry sea.

Inside his luo bone, Wang Jie slumped, drenched in sweat.

He felt sick at the cost.

To break Deepweight Star’s blockade, he’d burned a hundred swords.

To make this escape, he’d burned another hundred.

Whose swords were supposed to be consumables?

But he was alive.

He pushed the luo bone to maximum output and fled toward Silver Radiance Empire, putting Frostflower Domain behind him.

Along the way, he saw almost no ships. His personal terminal couldn’t reach the upper sect. The enemy’s preparations were too thorough.

Frostflower Sect was truly in danger.

Half a day later, the Star-Refining Realm aftershocks finally weakened. Wang Jie exhaled, exhausted, letting his head rest against the luo bone’s interior.

Nine deaths in one day.

He’d survived. That had to mean something.

Then his eyes narrowed.

Ahead—luo bones.

Not one.

Thousands.

A tidal swarm filling the star lanes, stretching farther than he could see.

Wang Jie’s heart slammed.

He could see them.

They could see him.

Don’t move. Don’t panic. Just pass through.

He flattened himself inside the luo bone, forcing his breath silent, trying to become invisible.

The luo bone’s course didn’t change.

It flew straight into the swarm.

Closer.

Closer.

Then—

They crossed.

For a moment, Wang Jie heard nothing but his own heartbeat.

That many Lu Luo Kingdom troops meant Roaming-Star Realm experts were surely among them. If they spotted him, he would die instantly.

Time crawled.

Sweat gathered and slid down the inner wall of the luo bone. Wang Jie stared at the droplet just to keep from shaking.

At last, the swarm receded behind him.

He still didn’t move.

Only after half an hour did he dare lift his head and look back.

The luo bones were gone—only empty starfield remained.

Wang Jie let out a long breath.

Frostflower Sect deserved to collapse. To hide that many luo bones in the Eighth Star Chain without being discovered… how many traitors did the sect contain? How deep had the infiltration gone?

He clenched his jaw and steered toward Silver Radiance Empire.

Behind him, Frostflower Domain burned.

In the Outer Court, luo bones fell from the sky like raining coffins, spilling out Lu Luo Kingdom warriors by the countless.

They charged without fear, eyes feral, Blood-Prick Art flaring as they hurled themselves into the Outer Court.

Tens of millions of Outer Court disciples fought desperately.

And among them, many turned their blades on their own.

“Why?” someone screamed. “We’re fellow disciples!”

“Fuck your fellow disciple,” a man shouted back. “Did Frostflower Sect ever treat us like people? We don’t even have the right to enter the Inner Sect!”

“Kill them!” another voice roared. “Kill the traitors!”

A Lu Luo Kingdom warrior laughed, teeth bared. “Humans—taste despair!”