At the entrance of Wuliang Hall, in just a brief mont, more than thirty deities had already assembled.
There, Ye Yu spotted Hong Zhencheng, who had been away for many days.
The mont they t, Hong Zhencheng wordlessly handed over two banana-like fruits.
“High God, these are sothing fun. Every man who’s tried them says they’re superb tonics. This is the greatest prize of my entire journey.”
Ye Yu frowned slightly. Honestly, he especially disliked anything so readily called a “superb tonic.”
“Was that really necessary? How vulgar,” he thought. If his mouth hadn’t been completely dry just then, he would never have eaten those two bananas.
He bit into one. “Hmm, not bad... sweet!”
Ye Yu thanked Hong Zhencheng and proactively asked if he knew why reinforcents had been summoned this ti.
At the ntion of reinforcents, Hong Zhencheng imdiately grew animated, his eyes shining as he began to explain.
“To talk about the support summons, we have to ntion the key figure of Wuliang Hall—Nangong Yantian.”
“He’s one of the Five Elders of the Divine Pact, but when it cos to causing trouble, he ranks first.”
“He once managed the feat of provoking the Seven Deity Pact three tis in three days!”
“Every day, he was [N O V E L I G H T] either fighting or out recruiting reinforcents.”
“True to his na—‘Yan tian, yan tian’—he always added fuel to the fire with his words. A master of stirring up hatred!”
“But his four-character na is hard to rember, so in the northern Divine Realm soone nicknad him ‘Calamity.’ Where Nangong Yantian goes, calamity follows!”
“No one objected, not even he himself. Nicknas don’t matter—if you dare to give one, it proves you and your Pact must be strong. Co on, let’s see about that!”
“With his unmatched talent for attracting hate, Nangong Yantian has summoned reinforcents more tis than anyone else.”
“For over a month, none of us had seen him; many suspected he’d secluded himself in cultivation.”
“But now, it seems that wasn’t the case—our familiar ‘Calamity’ has returned!”
“I heard this ti he really went all out: he shattered the ‘Ox Spirit’ of the three elders of the Funeral Pact.”
“Now those three are bent on killing Nangong Yantian, and they’ve brought dozens of deities with them.”
“That’s why our ‘Calamity Elder’ began calling for support.”
When Hong Zhencheng finished, Ye Yu couldn’t help but feel both amused and exasperated. He shattered three elders’ Ox Spirits? What had he done to them?
Before Ye Yu could ponder further, a figure streaked toward them like a bolt of light.
It was a spirited young man in a white robe, wielding a long spear, handso in appearance—Nangong Yantian himself.
He raised his hand and, in an instant, every deity present found twenty divine stones in their bosom.
“Brothers and sisters, the pawns of the Funeral Pact are on their way. As usual, you keep whatever spoils you win. The opportunity is yours—make the most of it!”
With that, Nangong Yantian transford into a rainbow and departed. The surrounding deities followed suit.
After flying for a short while, they collided head-on with another group at the Qianzhang Cliff, eight thousand li from Wuliang Hall.
Their standardized divine robes identified them as mbers of the Funeral Pact, each exuding a dense aura of death.
Three at their forefront were easy to recognize. Their legs were spread wide in near-horizontal stances, their faces contorted in agony, foreheads beaded with sweat—classic signs of Ox Spirit disruption.
These three tortured figures were surely the three elders of the Funeral Pact.
Based on their strength fluctuations, two were mid-Golden Deity Realm and one late-Golden Deity Realm.
This was intriguing: Nangong Yantian was only mid-Golden Deity Realm—how had he shattered not one but three Ox Spirits?
As adversaries t, eyes burned with envy. The three elders, upon recognizing Nangong Yantian, swept their hands in grand gestures, vowing to capture him alive.
By contrast, the deities of Wuliang Hall acted with professional efficiency. No words were spoken—they charged forward at full tilt, eyes afla with the lust for battle.
Most had fought beside Nangong Yantian dozens of tis and knew exactly what “efficient support” ant. Against equals, they engaged in direct one-on-one combat; against higher tiers, they ford groups of three or five, relying on divine artifacts to encircle their foes.
No command was needed—they moved on instinct.
Under such fierce onslaught, the Funeral Pact’s ranks were driven back step by step. But as the three elders joined the fray, the tide gradually balanced.
The battlefield swelled in scale.
Seizing the chaos, Ye Yu concealed his form and prepared to strike opportunistically. Yes: his reason for joining this fray was to reap points of subjugation.
Thoughts aside, actual execution was difficult. His true cultivation was only mid-New God Realm—he had ascended to this level only after harvesting Hong Zhencheng’s subjugation points.
In a battle of divine pacts, such a power was pure cannon fodder. Ye Yu needed the perfect mont—ideally, one with a strong tailwind.
Once the Funeral Pact’s forces faltered, he would quietly erge, trigger his special effect, and send fleeing deities into deeper terror. That would be the ideal script.
Whether events unfolded so smoothly was another matter. Risk and reward coexisted; such was an eternal truth.
But Ye Yu did not wish for excessive risk. He watched the fight unfold, ready to retreat if the tide turned catastrophically against him.
After all, a man bereft of his little brothers often beca monstrously savage. Ye Yu did not wish to perish here.
Huh? Why did he sense a familiar aura?
Ye Yu turned and saw Hong Zhencheng silently following behind him. Surprise flickered across his face. He hurriedly asked, “What are you doing?”
“Of course I’m following the High God to protect the High God!” Hong Zhencheng winked, as if he were the smartest being in the world. Indeed, he so defined himself.
The Funeral Pact’s deities this ti were exceptionally strong—fully two tiers above those previously encountered—and with three elders in command, their power was extraordinary.
“This battle is full of uncertainties. Sticking close to you is the safest choice.”
“Well, I must be a genius!” Hong Zhencheng declared, utterly convinced of his brilliance.
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