In the Eye of the Earth Sovereign, a dim, ghostly light glows. Inside, Heaven-Guide Venerable finishes off the last half of his chicken. He wants to toss the bones, but the whole sanctuary is spotless—no trash anywhere, not a single scrap—so he has nowhere to throw them.
He hesitates, glancing around to see the hall is empty—the Karmic-Flame Tu Bo and the Underworld Courier elder are both gone. So he quietly chucks the chicken bones into a corner and scurries out of the sanctuary.
Outside the hall, the Karmic-Flame Tu Bo and the Underworld Courier elder stand before the entrance, peering down at the world below.
Heaven-Guide Venerable looks down too, but all he sees is endless blackness—nothing at all.
"Did you get all that down?" Tu Bo asks, tilting his head.
The Underworld Courier elder nods. "I'm recording it now," he replies.
Beyond the Eye of the Earth Sovereign, countless little boats drift by. Each one carries an Underworld Courier elder beneath a lantern, scribbling furiously under the ghostly light—tens of thousands of boats, all the same.
"Even when Shepherd Venerable works for Tu Bo, you still have to record his mistakes?" the Underworld Courier elder asks.
Tu Bo's face remains blank. "Even if he's helping me, swallowing all those gods' and demons' Primordial Spirits is a major offense. I have no choice but to record it."
The Underworld Courier elder looks troubled and sighs. "He's got so many crime registers already—those last few rooms couldn’t hold them all. This time, it’s not just ‘piles upon piles’—we’ll probably have to build entire new halls just to store his glorious misdeeds!"
Tu Bo says, "Then we'll just build a whole palace complex just for his case files."
The Underworld Courier elder agrees.
In front of Jade-Lock Fortress in Youdu, Yan Qianzhong coughs repeatedly. His pallor flushes red as he stares at the surging tide of divine weapons ahead—those weapons and demon arms all belonged to his own gods and demons, his former subordinates.
Back in the Supreme Sovereign Era’s Heavenly Court, he was the Southern Red Emperor, and those gods and demons were his loyal followers.
He fought a duel with Claudia Qi of the Supreme Sovereign Heavenly Court, lost, and died in battle—along with countless of his own troops. Even after death, those gods and demons fell to Youdu and still follow him.
Now, all of them have been swallowed in a single gulp by the figure striding through heaps of white bones.
The tide of divine weapons surges, each blade and demon arm radiating beams of light that intertwine in midair. As they press forward, the sky itself groans with thunderous crashes—boom, boom.
Each weapon is as massive as a mountain, divine and demonic lights mingling. For a moment, they unify in strange harmony. In Youdu, the demonic Dao usually suppresses the divine, making it hard for god-weapons to show their true power.
Yet these weapons burst forth with terrifying force, unaffected by Youdu’s demonic aura or nature.
Bathed in the glow of god-light and demon-light, the figure striding atop piles of white bones radiates an overwhelming sense of dread.
That figure has three heads and six arms. One head looks like a baby, gleefully clapping its chubby hands, full of excitement. Another head burns with a wild, feverish lust for battle—hair bristling, eyes blazing, like a demon king on the brink of losing control to his own ferocity.
The third head, by contrast, is calm and sacred—gazing coolly around as if it were a lofty, untouchable deity.
Yan Qianzhong frowns in confusion. "He looks different from the Netherworld Divine Son I remember..."
"Hold your positions!"
Roars echo from both flanks—commanders barking orders, restraining their gods and demons to keep formation and avoid chaos.
Now that Yan Qianzhong’s forces have been wiped out, a gap has opened up. If Quinn Shepherd charges straight at Yan, both wings could sweep in and trap him in the center—a perfect pincer attack.
Yan Qianzhong snorts, annoyed. "Looks like I attacked too early..."
Just then, Quinn Shepherd suddenly stops in his tracks. On either side, hundreds of thousands—millions—of gods and demons stare at him in terror, trembling.
Meanwhile, in the central command tents, Emperor’s-Throne and High Heaven Hall–level beings sit or stand, silent and cold-eyed.
Quinn’s three heads sweep the crowd, and he smiles.
He can feel waves of wild, violent power surging from his elder brother, Fenix Greenwood Keane. Just now, the big-headed baby gulped down tens of thousands of gods and demons’ Primordial Spirits in a single swallow, and digesting so much power at once gives him a rush he can’t help but enjoy.
Fortunately, Fenix has kept the Netherworld demonic nature under control and hasn’t let it infect him. Otherwise, he truly wouldn’t be able to restrain himself—he’d probably devour every god and demon here in one go!
Fenix never bothers with root causes—he doesn’t care to understand Dao or divine arts; he just uses them as they come.
Quinn is different.
Raised by Village Chief Su, Granny Sue, Grandpa Mark, and the rest, he inherited their stubborn spirit of ‘breaking the pot to see the bottom’—always digging deeper, always curious.
If he ever turned evil, he’d be a hundred times more terrifying than Fenix!
"You lot."
He sweeps his gaze across the distant, terrified armies of gods and demons. There may be dozens of camps, tens or hundreds of thousands of Primordial Spirits and Netherworld beings, but facing him alone, all of them tremble—unable even to grip their divine or demonic weapons.
"You neither step aside nor run away. Are you hoping I’ll…"
Suddenly, two of Quinn’s heads swell to Sumeru-mountain size, mouths gaping wide enough to swallow half the sky. He roars at the armies on both sides: "Eat you all up?"
His body was already towering and imposing, but now his heads have swelled to a hundred times their normal size—truly, his skull touches the sky and his chin scrapes the ground, a sight to terrify anyone.
Fenix, a beat behind, shakes his own head—his baby head balloons even larger than Quinn’s two, baring his teeth and claws: "Eat—"
The three thunderous roars whip up a roaring, ghostly wind that sweeps out in all directions, crashing against the black walls of Jade-Lock Fortress and making the huge dark city hum and tremble.
On the ground, sand and stones fly, black winds roll through the ranks and camps, and the biting chill of the ghostly gale rattles the gods’ battered armor and weapons, quickly frosting them over.
At the front, a one-eyed demon god tries to swallow nervously—only to remember he’s a ghost and has no saliva.
"Run for it—!"
A green-faced, tusked ghost king suddenly bolts, leaving behind a trail of bright green ghostfire.
The other Netherworld demon gods and Primordial Spirits remain frozen, not daring to move.
Suddenly, there’s a loud crash—a four-armed god’s armor shatters from the sonic blast, scattering pieces everywhere.
The noise is especially jarring in the aftermath of the storm.
The demon god carefully plants his army’s banner in the ground, bends to pick up his shattered armor, and accidentally brushes the flagpole.
With a soft thud, the tattered banner collapses, its ragged fabric slapping onto the ground.
"That flag mustn’t fall…"
He’s just about to set it upright when a tidal wave of gods and demons surges past, shouting, "The banner’s down! We’ve lost! Run for your lives!"
The four-armed god stands stunned, reaching for the flag but swept away by the fleeing horde, growing ever farther from it.
"It’s over…"
He realizes, "Even if I find the flag, I can’t restore morale. Better to run for my life!" He turns and sprints away.
Yan Qianzhong watches coldly as the gods and Primordial Spirits scatter. Rockwell Nine-Gifts, Great Sun Star Lord, and other ancient demigods rise to try to restore order, but the panic is unstoppable.
The fleeing soldiers swarm like a tide up Tu Bo’s vast foot, climbing his leg, their cries echoing: "The little tyrant is eating people again!"
In the Eye of the Earth Sovereign, Karmic-Flame Tu Bo looks surprised. "Seems we won’t need to record so many sins this time. Two palace halls should be enough—maybe not even full."
The Underworld Courier elder shakes his head. "The ones left are the real giants. Fewer records, but their crimes are immeasurable."
After a long while, the chaos finally subsides.
Big-headed baby Fenix glances around, realizing only a thousand or so gods and demons remain. He’s dumbfounded, looking left and right, then turns to Quinn: "Little brother, they all ran away. What are we going to eat?"
As soon as his voice rings out, another few hundred gods and demons can’t suppress their terror, dropping their banners and bolting.
Fenix grinds his teeth, itching to chase after them, but Quinn is in control now—he can’t act on his own.
"No matter how many small fry you eat, it’s nothing compared to catching a big fish."
Quinn’s gaze lands on the hundred-plus towering giants still standing. He grins: "Brother, what we’re about to eat now are the big fish!"
Fenix perks up, excited. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
Quinn leaps into the air. The tide of divine and demonic weapons below suddenly melts, surging into a river of molten metal. As Quinn rises, the torrent converges into a blazing greatsword, flaming in his grip.
The moment he seizes the sword, Yan Qianzhong, Rockwell Nine-Gifts, Great Sun Star Lord, and the others all move at once, unleashing their divine arts. Youdu Jade-Lock Fortress, usually the darkest place in the Netherworld, suddenly blazes as if thousands of suns have risen. Divine light floods in from all directions, aiming straight for Quinn.
Rockwell Nine-Gifts charges forward, spinning, arms flailing, hurling black stone swords in volleys at Quinn.
Great Sun Star Lord beats his wings and transforms into a black-gold three-legged crow, bird-headed and human-bodied. With each flap, spinning black suns—large and small—hurtling toward Quinn.
Yan Qianzhong leaps, transforming into a blazing fire god. Wheels of flame roar behind his head, spinning as countless divine arts burst forth!
Meanwhile, other Emperor’s-Throne and High Heaven Hall giants unleash their Primordial Spirits’ powers, blanketing the darkness with blinding light—even inside Jade-Lock Fortress, everything shines white.
Anyone who’s reached this level has practically entered the Dao itself—their divine arts are rule-level, shaking heaven and earth!
Lady War-Consort is the fiercest. Her martial-dao divine arts are overwhelming—fists, palms, kicks, and finger-strikes crash in from every direction as she shrieks her battle cry, closing in on Quinn!
Fenix is beside himself with excitement, ready to fight—until he realizes his own hands are gripping the flaming greatsword. He freezes for a moment: "Wait, why am I holding the sword? I don’t know any sword arts…"
Just as he thinks this, Lady War-Consort is already upon them.
"Thousand Peaks Beyond Heaven, Returning Palms!"
Quinn lets out a thunderous shout, channeling all his body-based martial arts into one seemingly simple punch. It’s as if a thousand peaks from beyond the heavens crash down upon Lady War-Consort.
"Your martial path is too weak!"
Lady War-Consort’s flurry of fists and kicks slam into Quinn, but when she blocks his punch, her expression twists—her arms contort and shatter, and her legs chain forward, pounding into Quinn’s body.
"Sword!" Quinn calls.
Quinn snatches the greatsword from Fenix’s hands and swings—Lady War-Consort’s head and body part ways in an instant!
Boom—
Hundreds of divine arts converge and detonate, engulfing them. Blinding white light sweeps over the land, blasting up into the high heavens, reaching even Tu Bo’s waist before slowly ebbing.
At the center of the blast, Quinn crashes to the ground, legs spread, half-crouched. His three-headed, six-armed body is battered and torn, barely holding together.
Torrents of blood-qi surge inside him and gush out. Quinn grips the greatsword, exhilarated.
"I’m so strong—"
His flesh knits almost instantly. With a burst of strength, he leaps up to meet the charging Rockwell Nine-Gifts, laughing wildly: "So strong!"
Fenix, busy digesting Lady War-Consort, rolls his eyes at Quinn’s excitement. "No experience…"