Chapter 78

On the 23rd of October, the sun never rose.
The skies were blood-red and thick with clouds. Howling winds tore through the land, and by the hour of Chen (7–9 a.m.), dark stormfronts rolled down from the north. The clouds hung oppressively low, blanketing the world in shadow.
Luo Han stood on a ridge, straining to see into the distance. The horizon was blurred, the clouds pressed low like leaden weights upon the earth. At the seam between sky and ground, shadows poured down like spilled ink.
And yet Luo Han knew those weren’t just clouds.
If one looked closely, one could make out black-armored figures leaping from the stormbanks. One by one they descended, tiny as dust motes at first—then gathering, converging, swelling—until the army of the demon clan stood half a million strong.
Luo Han slowly lowered her hand and sighed. Numbers were just numbers until you actually stood before them. Only then did you feel the crushing weight of it—of a sea of people, of lives.
After ten million years of war between the celestials and demons, after all the death, to now face five hundred thousand more...It was staggering.
The demon god had gone mad. Even after all this, with both sides exhausted, he had somehow brought thirty-five thousand more troops from the demon realm. No matter how prolific the demons were, how could they possibly survive this relentless self-bleeding? Surely, this was the last of their living strength.
Ling Qingxiao stood beside her. Hearing her sigh, he asked, “Are you afraid?”
“No,” Luo Han replied, eyes on the dark tide of soldiers. “Just...resentful. Celestials or demons, they’re all living beings. They should have the right to choose their own fate. But now, they’re dying for some god’s ridiculous ambition.”
Gods drew strength from the faith of their followers. But what did faith mean?
People followed gods for safety, for food, for shelter—for a better life. In the beginning, gods provided these things, and so their believers grew. Their power surged. They became stronger...and more tyrannical.
Now, gods no longer brought good fortune. Instead, they unleashed endless disaster.
From the skies, black clouds descended upon Xiangshi. Behind Luo Han, she heard the army tightening their grip on weapons. In those clouds were legions of demon soldiers in full armor; on the ground, the celestial army stood ready as well.
The demon god and plague god appeared at the front, soon entering everyone’s field of view. The demon god looked down from above. Seeing neither Rong Cheng nor He Xu in the celestial lines, he felt this was a god-given opportunity.
A chance like this wouldn’t come again. He had to seize it. He would kill these celestial insects and take Xiangshi.
He didn’t take the field seriously. To him, gods were the only noble beings in the world. Celestials, demons, humans, beasts—they were all just animals. The only difference was that some could speak and others couldn’t.
Without a god to guard them, the so-called celestial army was no better than a rabble. Nothing about them deserved his attention.
The Demon God had always seen Rong Cheng and He Xu as his true opponents. Now that both were absent, he didn’t even feel like fighting. He waved a hand dismissively and said, “Go on, kill them all and take Xiangshi. These parasites have lived here long enough. Before they have the chance to completely taint this place, clean them out.”
The Plague God stood beside him and asked, “Demon God, we’ve brought five hundred thousand troops—that’s fifty cloud formations. How should we deploy them? Which group goes first, which goes after?”
“Deploy?” The Demon God looked at him strangely. “If a bunch of ants were fighting, would you care about their formations? They don’t understand sophisticated tactics, so there’s no need to waste effort arranging anything. Whether more or fewer of them die has nothing to do with me. Just kill all these celestials in the end.”
Well...alright then. The Plague God, following orders, unleashed all five hundred thousand demon troops at once. No need for strategy—just kill.
As for protection? If they die, they die. What protection?
The sky blackened as a dense swarm of demon soldiers surged toward them like locusts—some running on the ground, others flying through the air. The sheer scale was visually overwhelming.
Ling Qingxiao raised his hand and brought it down sharply. Arrows rained down like a storm. Each arrowhead was imbued with demon-slaying spells; when they hit a demon, they instantly burned holes through their bodies.
The demons had no protective armor. Though many were killed, they used fallen bodies as shields, pushing forward until they reached melee range.
Once close combat began, arrows lost effectiveness. But before the Plague God could be pleased, he saw the ground light up with formation arrays—gold and silver light gleaming in complex patterns.
These runes flowed with mystical energy. Each pulse of light turned demons into fragments, or stripped them to bone. Others simply dissolved into black mist, only to be absorbed by the formations before the demonic energy could escape.
The formations were like slaughter machines, mercilessly grinding down wave after wave. Each time one flared, it carved out a brief clearing in the battlefield, until the next wave filled it in.
Their scale and lethality far surpassed that of the earlier arrows.
The Plague God was stunned. He turned to the Demon God and asked, “Whose divine technique is this? I’ve never seen it before.”
That didn’t make sense. The gods had known one another too long—if someone possessed such powerful magic, how could it have stayed hidden?
The Demon God’s face darkened. He stared at the formations, his expression increasingly foul.
He recognized it—not as some god’s secret art, but as one of those worthless tricks invented by the celestials he looked down on.
And yet, these “worthless tricks” kept crossing his bottom line. The Demon God couldn’t help recalling how last time, those two brats had trapped him in a formation and brought down heavenly thunder while he stood helpless.
Just thinking about it made his blood boil. When had a mighty Demon God ever been so humiliated—especially at the hands of a pair of juniors?
Unable to contain himself, he flew down and struck one of the formations with a palm. It exploded with a boom, and the light in the patterns immediately dimmed.
The moment the Demon God moved, Ling Qingxiao unsheathed his sword. Others reacted just as quickly. As the Demon God descended, Ling Qingxiao sprang up, sending out eleven sword strikes in quick succession—each hitting their mark.
They didn’t wound the Demon God, but being targeted like that would enrage anyone.
The Demon God was provoked. He gave chase, but Ling Qingxiao had grown far more agile after years of war. His movements seemed chaotic, yet he dodged with precise timing, skillfully drawing the Demon God away from the army.
Celestial soldiers stood ready in formation. While generals like Ling Qingxiao or Su Zongshi could survive a few rounds against the Demon God, the average soldier could not. They could not let the Demon God fight above the main ranks.
Once the Demon God was lured away, a repair team dashed into action. Shielded by spears and heavy armor, they swiftly moved to fix the damaged formation.
Ling Qingxiao never withheld knowledge. Over the years, numerous officers in the army had learned formations. They taught their trusted aides, and so the knowledge spread. The near-frontline formations were not even drawn by Ling Qingxiao himself anymore—they were the work of others.
He led the Demon God to a vast open clearing. With a light step, he danced across the ground in a seemingly casual pattern.
But with each step, golden lines began to glow on the earth. They weaved into intersecting circles and radiant pathways—grand, intricate, dazzling.
This was a formation drawn by Ling Qingxiao himself.
The Demon God sensed something was off. He’d scoffed at these little tricks before, but last time he’d suffered inside one of these glowing rings. He wasn’t eager for a repeat.
Just as he tried to retreat, a sudden chill crept up his back.
His instincts screamed danger. He dodged instantly—just as a colorless, formless air arrow pierced the space where he’d stood, blasting a stone apart in an explosion of dust and debris.
Panic rose within him. Why hadn’t I felt any energy fluctuation? He turned—and saw Luo Han standing at the edge of the formation, smiling at him.
“Long time no see,” she said.
The Demon God’s expression twisted in shock. “You’re still alive?”
Luo Han replied lazily, “How hurtful. I’ve been back six months. I even stood right there on the front lines earlier, and you still didn’t notice me?”
She sighed theatrically. “Am I really that easy to ignore?”
But even as she spoke, she attacked without warning.
The bracelet on her right wrist snapped apart, scattering into nine radiant beads that spun outward into formation. They flickered and shifted, constantly changing—so rapidly they were almost impossible to follow.
From one of those beads, a space technique shot forth. The Demon God had barely dodged it when a muffled clap of thunder exploded behind him.
The Demon God immediately realized that Luo Han had grown much stronger. That shouldn't be possible—only five hundred years had passed. Even if she had trained day and night, there was no way she should have advanced this much.
He dodged several of her attacks and finally found an opening to launch a counterattack. Luo Han easily evaded it. Watching her effortless movements, his unease only deepened.
What kind of opportunity did she encounter? How could her power have transformed so drastically? He could even sense the aura of the Celestial Purifying Waters on her.
The Demon God wasn’t sure whether what he felt was jealousy or greed. He deliberately made a show of disinterest, saying, “Aren’t you neutral? Since you’re not part of this war, step aside. I have no desire to contend with a child.”
Luo Han clicked her tongue. Did he think she was a fool? She remained unmoved and said calmly, “This has nothing to do with the war. This is a personal grudge.”
He’d ambushed her twice—her vengeance was long overdue. It just so happened that today, the day of reckoning, aligned with the final battle.
At that moment, something in the world seemed to stir. One by one, golden pillars of light erupted into the sky, piercing the heavens and earth. An ominous energy began to spread.
The Demon God looked around in shock. “What is this?”
Luo Han couldn’t hold back her disdain. “It seems even gods, like mortals, never learn from past mistakes.”
Last time, she’d diverted his attention and Ling Qingxiao had activated a formation. That first time, it was understandable—the Demon God didn’t know what to expect. But now, he’d fallen for the exact same trick again.
She had to admit—that was impressive in its own way.
Ling Qingxiao, having completed the activation, returned to the center of the formation. Without dodging, he raised his sword and pointed it straight at the Demon God. “God-Slaying Formation.”
The Demon God’s instincts had not been wrong. Even just the name of the array radiated pure, unmistakable malice.
“God-slaying?” the Demon God scoffed. “Arrogant. Utterly foolish.”
Perhaps. Ling Qingxiao felt the formation layers solidify, drawing the power of mountains, rivers, and heaven itself into the array.
This formation existed on no recorded scroll—he had spent five hundred years crafting it, refining every detail. Since the day Luo Han vanished, he had been preparing for this exact moment.
Overhead, the Plague God noticed the growing golden light and felt an inexplicable dread. Alarmed, he leapt from the clouds and tried to fly to the Demon God’s side.
But Xi Heng intercepted him mid-air.
Seeing his path blocked, the Plague God raised an eyebrow. “What’s this supposed to mean? Are you really choosing to side with the Celestials?”
Xi Heng had long maintained neutrality. If he openly took a side now, his impartiality would be lost forever. Yet he replied lazily, not denying it but not confirming it either. “This is a personal matter. Just a fair fight between individuals. What are you interfering for?”
“Fair?” the Plague God laughed. “Two against one, with traps and schemes? And you call that fair?”
“I think you’re the joke,” Xi Heng said coldly, though he still wore a smile. “The Demon God is ancient. Luo Han and Ling Qingxiao are practically infants by comparison. He’s targeted them twice, and now they’re simply returning the favor. You’re really going to stoop to helping someone who’s bullying children? Have some dignity. You’ve lived long enough—act like it. Let them settle their own affairs. I’m not interfering, and neither should you.”
The Plague God smiled and nodded. “Very well.”
Then he turned and began walking away—only to spin back and hurl a massive cloud of black mist at Xi Heng.
Xi Heng didn’t budge. A transparent barrier appeared before him, blocking the mist completely. “Such a nuisance,” he sighed. “I haven’t fought in years. I really didn’t want to waste time on a scoundrel like you.”
Before he even finished speaking, both he and the Plague God vanished from sight. In the next instant, they exchanged over a dozen blows in midair.
With all four gods now on the battlefield, Su Zongshi below saw the opportunity and drew his sword. Like a streak of lightning, he charged into the demon army and cut down a swath of enemies. The soldiers behind him roared and surged forward, clashing violently with the demons.
The battlefield erupted in a cacophony of war cries, spells, and weapons. It was pure chaos—a living hell.
On another front, though less chaotic than the melee, the intensity was no less.
The God-Slaying Formation was fully active. Luo Han stood outside its boundary, directing her nine Void Beads in harmony with the array. They emitted blasts of elemental power—lightning, fire, metal, wood, water, earth, ice, and wind. The beads wove an intricate dance of cycles and counterbalances, their strength accumulating with each loop.
The Demon God, trapped inside the array, was under pressure from both the formation and Luo Han’s attacks. It wasn’t about winning or losing—it was simply miserable.
Her refusal to fight head-on and insistence on underhanded tactics was truly infuriating.
Whenever he tried to turn and deal with her, Ling Qingxiao’s sword would strike. If he tried to deal with Ling Qingxiao, Luo Han’s sneak attack came right on cue. One bright and one dark, one upfront and one behind, they restrained him completely.
He was forced on the defensive, unable to counter. The pressure was mounting—he could feel the God-Slaying Formation restricting his power.
This was bad. He had to end it quickly.
The Demon God suddenly stopped dodging. He stood still, no longer evading their attacks, and spread his arms to summon his full demonic power.
Seeing this, Luo Han flicked her wrist and recalled her Void Beads, which hovered loyally around her. She, too, calmed her breath and began channeling her divine energy.
Above, black clouds churned violently. More and more stormfronts gathered overhead, swirling into a massive cyclone that stretched from the sky down to the earth.
The strange atmospheric change caught the attention of many far away: a herder driving oxen paused in confusion, a mountaineer clinging to a cliff turned to look, even farmers working in the fields dropped their tools and gathered in alarm.
“Look over there! Is that...a tornado?”
The revered elder squinted at the sky for a long time, then slowly shook his head. “No...that’s not a tornado. That’s a cloud.”
“No way! How could clouds pile all the way to the ground?”
“Village Chief, maybe you’re mistaken?”
“I’m not mistaken.” The village chief thumped his cane heavily against the ground and stared reverently at the strange phenomenon on the horizon. “It’s a divine sign. In this lifetime, this old man has actually lived to witness a miracle with his own eyes! Look—Heavenly Thunder!”
The dark clouds above were terrifying—so black they seemed to press down on the world. A streak of violet lightning slithered like a spirit snake through the clouds, followed by more and more flashes of electricity. The purple glow illuminated the sky, making the darkness alternately flicker with light. An overwhelming sense of dread swept across the land.
Suddenly, a muffled rumble echoed from the heavens. A massive bolt of lightning tore through the clouds and struck down. Almost immediately, a deafening roar rolled across the world.
Thunder roared, lightning blazed, and heaven and earth were submerged in a terrible pressure. The village chief fell to his knees, trembling, and prayed, “May the heavens protect us...may my descendants grow up safe and sound...may there be no more war in the immortal realm.”
More and more people knelt to pray. Even the mountaineer leapt from the cliff wall and bowed his head in silent reverence. Gods drew their power from faith. Beneath the thunderclouds, Luo Han could feel energy from all around drifting toward her, gradually converging in her body. The lightning above grew thicker and more powerful.
She looked to Ling Qingxiao. He gave her the barest of nods.
Luo Han understood. She summoned the lightning, striking directly at the Demon God.
At the same moment, the Demon God had just finished gathering his energy. He raised his hand and struck upward to meet the divine thunder.
The two massive forces collided with a deafening crash. On the battlefield, countless soldiers went momentarily deaf from the blast.
Now was the moment.
Ling Qingxiao immediately altered the formation. Luo Han also withdrew her hand and began preparing her time-space technique.
The Demon God was still resisting the lightning strike—it was far stronger than he’d expected. Had they not clashed before, he would’ve never believed both bolts had come from the same person. Her progress in just five hundred years was frightening.
Heavenly lightning was powerful, but it had one major flaw: it was short-lived. As soon as the most intense burst passed, the Demon God began gathering power to strike back—until he felt something binding him in place.
To his shock, the time around his body began to accelerate.
He quickly understood and laughed aloud. “Hahahaha! Ridiculous! The passage of time only makes me stronger. You actually thought using temporal spells against me would work? Do you think I’m a mortal? That aging will make me weaker, or kill me? Absurd!”
High above, Xi Heng and the Plague God were still fighting. Neither excelled in direct combat, and their domains were so different that neither could gain the upper hand. In their tense deadlock, they both sensed a lightning strike brewing nearby. Then they heard the Demon God’s mocking laughter.
That girl actually accelerated the Demon God’s time flow? Even the Plague God was baffled. Has she lost her mind? Gods are immortal. No matter how much time passes, it won’t kill them—on the contrary, it could only give them more power from the future. Is she trying to kill him...or help him?
Only Xi Heng froze, visibly stunned.
No...that’s not it.
As the God of Time, any disturbance in time brought him echoes of the past or future. He thought of how Luo Han had trained relentlessly in time-space arts, how she and Ling Qingxiao had both chosen to accelerate time on the Demon God…
Everything pointed to one conclusion:
The gods...have no future.
Time accelerated rapidly, reaching the limit of Luo Han’s control. But she knew—it wasn’t enough yet. The true tipping point hadn’t arrived.
Meanwhile, the Demon God, feeling his power growing, didn’t resist. Let’s see what these little bugs are planning.
At first, he was completely calm.
But gradually...that confidence began to crumble.
Shock spread across his face.
Luo Han knew—the critical point had arrived. The transition from strength to weakness had begun.
But she was at her limit too. The Demon God, sensing the danger, launched an immediate attack to stop her from continuing the temporal shift. But his spell was blocked by the formation.
Ling Qingxiao drew his sword.
It was time to attack.
The Demon God’s weakening phase had begun. Even if they had to wear him down like grinding a blade on stone, today—they would finish this.
Ling Qingxiao could accept being struck down by the Demon God. If he lost, so be it. But Luo Han—he would never allow her to be harmed.
Five hundred years he had waited.
Now that she was back, he would not let anyone take her away.
The Demon God was still formidable, even weakened. Luo Han saw him pressing closer through the formation and grew anxious. She focused her divine sense and summoned another lightning strike from the clouds.
But this one—was not the same.
She had poured her divine mind into it. Her power was now dangerously depleted.
As the world dimmed around her, she thought she saw faint glimmers of light entering her body. Her nearly exhausted strength...began to recover.
Startled, she looked up. Golden motes of light—some faint, some brilliant—floated across the land, drawn by an invisible force toward her. On the battlefield, where soldiers fought desperately, the lights were the most concentrated.
And suddenly, Luo Han understood.
This was faith.
As long as someone believed in her, placed their trust in her, she would grow stronger.
Su Zongshi, Xiao Ze, the ordinary soldiers, the villagers of Qingshan, and countless strangers she had never met—they were all hoping she would win. Hoping she would defeat the Demon God and bring peace.
Strength surged back into her body.
That’s right, she thought. So many people are counting on me. How can I give up now?
The stronger she became, the safer Ling Qingxiao would be.
Luo Han cast her time-space technique again.
This time, time accelerated faster.
Ten thousand years...twenty thousand...fifty thousand...one hundred thousand.
And one hundred thousand years into the future—the demon realm had a new leader. The Demon God, consumed by greed and indulgence, had long lost the faith of his people. Though the elites still flattered him, down below, his worship had rapidly decayed.
The Demon God was clearly weakening. Ling Qingxiao gradually gained the upper hand in their battle—even managing to injure him. Watching from a distance, Xi Heng let out a gasp of awe, while the Plague God practically exploded with shock, his voice sharp and incredulous: “Impossible! He’s just a member of the Immortal race—how could he possibly damage a divine body?”
But this was only the beginning.
The Demon God might be weaker, but he was still not someone easy to deal with. Both he and Ling Qingxiao were now covered in wounds. It had become a test of endurance—who could go further, who was more ruthless, who was more willing to throw their life away.
Luo Han collapsed to the ground, physically drained. She lay there for a while, waiting for faith energy to gather within her body. As soon as she regained some strength, she once again activated her time-space spell and pushed time forward.
The unusual atmosphere around them began to attract attention. More gods began to appear in the clouds above, observing the battle below. From other battlefronts, they stood in the sky, startled and alarmed just like the Plague God: “The Immortal race is holding their own against a god? Who is this pretending to be a dragon clan member? Wait...something is wrong with the time aura on the Demon God.”
Right at that moment, Luo Han finished her rest and stood up to cast her spell again. The gods finally got a clear look at what she was doing. At first, they were confused. But then they saw it—the Demon God was growing weaker.
The difference was subtle. But even a slight weakening was a heavy blow to the gods watching.
They had once supported each other like family. But as their numbers grew, internal rifts began to form. The gods grew more selfish, betraying one another, even scheming in the dark. They acted without fear or guilt, convinced of their inherent superiority.
After all, their power was innate. Gods were eternal—undying, unaging. They were born above all other beings.
They never imagined a day would come when they too would face death and the natural cycle. But now...that moment was unfolding before their very eyes.
Gods could perish. Gods could be killed.
Most of the gods present were enraged. One stepped forward and roared, “What is the meaning of this?! How dare mere immortals rise up against the divine! End this formation immediately!”
The gods standing with the Immortal side didn’t feel good about it either, but they didn’t agree. They could see it clearly: the dragon clan youth and the Demon God were both badly injured—but the young man’s aura still lingered stronger. It was obvious: the Demon God would fall first.
Why not wait and reap the benefit?
On the opposing side, the gods aligned with the demon race sensed things turning against them and made a move to strike down the formation. Xi Heng intervened halfway, blocking the attack. The blocked god immediately scowled. “I thought you were neutral. Are you really going to oppose me now?”
Before Xi Heng could respond, a hot-tempered god on the Immortal side snapped back, “So what if he is? You’re losing—anyone with eyes can see it. And you expect Xi Heng to step in and help you now? Didn’t you say the Demon God was one of your strongest? So this is what your so-called ‘strongest’ looks like—can’t even beat a single young dragon!”
Tensions had been simmering for years. With the Demon God’s situation as the trigger, everything ignited.
The gods began to fight. The demon-aligned gods moved to save the Demon God; the Immortal-aligned gods stopped them. Words turned to blows, and once the battle began, more and more were drawn in.
It erupted into an all-out War of the Gods.