Inside the tree hollow, Gabriel Yang and Lydia Drake sat face-to-face, their palms pressed together. Meanwhile, Master Yideng perched behind Gabriel, poking a vital acupoint on his back with one finger. All three looked dead serious; Gabriel’s face was twisted in pain. That mysterious surge of energy went haywire again—this time even wilder, faster, and meaner than last time.
The Jade Maiden Heart Sutra was already working overtime. No chance to sneak off to a secret hideout—sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do! To save Gabriel, Lydia tossed her shame out the window, stripped down in one swift move, and showed off her flawless jade body. Good thing Grace Kwok found a massive cloth and rigged up a curtain to block the view. As for Master Yideng, he’s the very model of medical professionalism—eyes squeezed shut, not peeking. The old monk’s got nerves of steel; nothing fazes him.
Inside the tree hollow, Howard Dao and Duke Simon Duan were fighting tooth and nail. The cramped space meant the bad guys couldn’t use their numbers. The two went all out, unstoppable. But Grace Kwok was losing her mind with worry, constantly calling out light fragments, hoping they’d float down on her big brother and flip the script.
Other than that, all she could do was worry.
"I can’t do a thing..." Grace Kwok had never felt so helpless. Even when she was snatched by King Jinlun or about to get roasted alive in Xiangyang, it was just her own neck on the line. But now, seeing Gabriel Yang—her number one favorite—suffering, it hurt way more than anything she’d ever gone through herself.
"I want to get stronger!" Through wind and rain, a mighty tree grows. In this chaos and helplessness, a heart longing for strength was awakening: "I want to become stronger, strong enough to protect everyone! I don't want to keep waiting for someone to save me, or watching others suffer—I want to be able to change all this myself!"
Grace Kwok clenched her fists, her whole outlook flipped upside down by what she’d seen. Back in Helen Wong and Fiona Kwok’s world, she figured girl power was nice but not a big deal—just keep yourself safe, no need to be a kung fu legend. But after meeting Jill Young and Wu Zhengfeng, everything changed. Even though they hadn’t hung out long, Grace had glimpsed a whole new, wide-open world. That epic scenery blew her mind.
"I wanna be just like Sister Jill and Sister Wu—crazy powerful, totally unbeatable!" Grace stared out of the tree hollow, sucked in a deep breath, and hollered at the top of her lungs: "Sister Wu, you got this—go win!"
Outside the tree hollow, Wu Zhengfeng heard the shout and flashed a cocky, confident grin.
Victory? You betcha! Like, was there ever any doubt?
It was a one-vs-the-world brawl, and Wu Zhengfeng was absolutely owning it—like a star on opening night!
"Eat this!" The Sixth Copper Priest swung his iron gourd with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball—straight down from the sky, heavy enough to squash a watermelon!
"Take this!" A giant mast came slicing through the waves, with the Seventh Copper Priest sprinting right on top. He swung a massive spear, thrusting so hard it sliced the air, leaving a razor-sharp line on the lake. Talk about making a splash!
"Nether Soul-Palm!" Master Ruin rallied, ditching the giant handprint for a pair of hands wrapped in spooky green fire. He skittered across the water like a skipping stone—joining the chaos from a totally bonkers angle.
But the real threat was still the Silver Priest. His face was unreadable, sometimes attacking, sometimes retreating, mixing feints with real moves to mess with everyone’s head. He knew his role well—being the only one on his team to reach the ‘unmatched in might’ level, he was there to distract, support, and keep their offense going. Under no circumstances could he let the enemy seize the chance to take someone out.
But Maggie Monroe was going four-on-one and still looked bored—didn’t even break a sweat!
She milked her speed for all it was worth, darting around like a startled dragon or a swan on Red Bull. Her lightness skill was so ridiculous, she could probably fly to the moon. Normally, defenders get boxed in, but Maggie’s fancy footwork and brainy tactics made the bad guys huddle together like nervous chickens.
No one dared leave the Silver Priest’s side—because whoever got separated was basically doomed!
"Ha!" Maggie moved like a startled dragon, her toe tapping the mast and sending it crashing upward, smashing straight into the airborne Sixth Copper Priest. Amid the flying spray and waves, the fierce spear unleashed a thousand dazzling shadows, raining down like a storm of pear blossoms. But with a clang, the Seventh Copper Priest was sent flying, crashing through the waves.
He crash-landed in a heap, sporting a bloody line across his chest and a spear that looked more like a toothpick. If the Silver Priest hadn’t swooped in, that chest wound would’ve been a whole new belly button.
Where’s the spearhead?
In Maggie’s hand.
Whoosh—the Sixth Copper Priest barely dodged the mast’s strike, only to see a broken spear shoot through the mist, spinning like a railgun with rings of force, rocketing straight for his backside. The sharp energy sliced through the air, and the Sixth Copper Priest tightened up in terror, letting out a wild scream as he desperately blocked.
Let’s not worry about how he handled it for now. In the mist, Maggie let out a sharp breath, raised her left index finger, and a three-foot blade of energy burst out like a lightsaber. The crimson sword flickered and spun, cutting through everything in its path. Countless droplets hadn’t even hit the ground before they were vaporized by the blazing sword energy. The Silver Priest’s roar and Master Ruin’s shouts echoed from the mist, while the thunderous sounds of battle never stopped.
The Seventh Copper Priest was just about to rush in when he suddenly sensed a deadly threat. Maggie’s right hand, which had been hanging loosely, suddenly tensed—charge complete! The pressure in the mist spiked, even surpassing the brilliance of the tree hollow. To every expert’s senses, it felt like an isolated peak towering above all.
Every top fighter on Mystic Isle shuddered, feeling the extraordinary force. On the Dragonfang warship, Dr. Long Fang paused his leisurely tea, his gaze turning grim as he looked toward the island’s center.
In the mist, Maggie shouted coldly, "Remember this move—Heavenly King Ghost Slash!"
In the void, a flash of resolute light streaked by.
The next moment, heaven and earth flipped.
Suddenly, the massive lake surged with terrifying waves, as if the world itself had split open. A huge crack tore through the lake, sending two "mountains" of water to either side, with a deep gorge in between. The spectacle of splitting mountains and valleys stretched rapidly, finally crashing into the half-sunken ship. With a massive crunch, the hull split wide, the deck and shell twisting and breaking apart.
The Seventh Copper Priest barely dodged in the nick of time, swept away by the raging waves. Crack! His copper mask shattered and dropped, showing off a stern, wolfish mug—it was the notorious Seventh Copper Priest, who’d crashed the Xiangyang Hero Summit before.
So close—just a hair’s breadth away from being seriously injured!
Seventh Copper Priest broke out in goosebumps, half from nerves, half from wild excitement. His eyes sparkled with a hint of crazy, fighting spirit burning even hotter. Yes, yes, yes! This is the kind of power I’ve been hunting for—the real deal, the master I wanna throw down with!
Back at the big ship, amid the crashing debris, at the end of the slash mark, the Silver Priest was clutching Master Ruin with his left hand, holding a shiny little shield in his right, his back slammed against the splitting hull. That little shield was a rare piece of equipment from the Eternal Sky Cult—even for the Silver Priest, there were only one or two. Its defense was supposed to be unbreakable. But now, a crack appeared with a snap, and then it shattered completely.
"Ugh..." The Silver Priest clutched his chest, gasping for breath. Normally, a top master recovers in no time, but just now, he’d nearly run out of steam—he almost couldn’t keep going. Master Ruin beside him couldn’t even speak; if the Silver Priest hadn’t helped, he’d have been sliced from head to toe.
That Heavenly King Ghost Slash—every ounce of energy, spirit, and soul poured into it—was just too terrifying.
The Silver Priest glared toward the misty area, growling, "With that kind of drain, how long can you last—" He hadn’t finished when Maggie flicked her right ring finger, sending out a fourth type of invisible sword energy, condensed into a sword pellet, which shot across dozens of yards in a blink. Biu! The Silver Priest’s throat prickled with goosebumps—he hurried to block, but with a splatter, blood burst out as his protective energy was breached, and his left palm finally started bleeding.
Maggie swept her sleeve, scattering the mist. On the surging lake, she said nothing—just pointed at the Silver Priest, then gave a big thumbs down.
The Silver Priest didn’t get the gesture, but he understood Maggie’s look: You’re not good enough.
"Aaaaargh!" The Silver Priest was totally furious, exploding out of the water. Blood from his palm was condensed by his internal energy into a sword, and he met attack with attack. At the same time, Tom Seven burst out laughing and charged in. Meanwhile, the light atop the tree grew stronger, making the Silver Priest more and more anxious. The Stormstone hidden on him kept sending vague signals, telling him that once the person in the light succeeded, the island’s mission would be over.
When that happens, Mystic Isle will vanish again, and the once-in-500-years opportunity will slip through his fingers.
So now’s no time for slowpoke attacks—speed up and hit hard! Bag this lady, roast the guy in the light, and boom—problem solved!
This little lady’s tough, but too bad—she’s all alone.
But my hidden cards—the Silver Priest’s gaze secretly swept a few other spots—are more than enough.
Inside the tree hollow, Duke Simon Duan was hacking and slashing left and right, when suddenly a tall dude dressed as a True Reality Sect disciple popped up. The guy’s energy seemed like he’d only trained thirty years. Duke Simon Duan, seeing red, jabbed a finger without even looking. But the moment the tall guy joined the fight, he whipped off an iron ring from his wrist, and his aura exploded—he went from thirty-year veteran to a breakthrough master in a blink!
One big grab—a merciless iron palm slapped toward Duke Simon Duan’s forehead. That palm could crush anything; even copper and iron would get sliced up like deli meat.
"Huh?!" Maggie’s brows shot up—she recognized that sudden burst of energy from not long ago. It was the Saintly Robe Technique!