Volume One: The Game of the Master Chapter Sixty-Nine: A Draw

On Qingshui Star of the Feathered Net Realm, the Drunkard had his arm wrapped around a young girl's waist, sitting at ease atop a mountain peak, facing the setting sun and letting the wild wind lash at him. Seen from behind, the whole scene seemed steeped in poetic beauty.

Suddenly, with a sickening sound, a high-grade divine sword pierced the body of the middle-aged man before him. The sword quivered, and in an instant, the man was shattered, dissipating into mist.

“Heh, you dare oppose me? Have you never heard the name of the God of Slaughter?” The Drunkard licked the blood splattered at the corner of his mouth, grinning wildly.

“Father…” At that moment, the girl he held in his arms, watching the sunset, suddenly rushed in, her mouth agape at the blood-soaked scene before her.

A jolt went through the Drunkard’s mind.

Father? Could it be...?

“Tian Xuan… Tian Xuan, I’ll fight you to the death!” Tears streamed from the girl's eyes. Caring for nothing else, she forgot her own meager strength—she was only a first-rank Golden Immortal—while the man she faced was none other than the Drunkard, the God of Slaughter, the most powerful Immortal Emperor in the Feathered Net Realm.

With a single thrust, the high-grade divine sword, as if possessed by a demon, easily pierced the girl's body. The Drunkard, his mind still reeling from battle and bloodshed, struck out on instinct, and the girl, with no time to evade, was cut down.

“Xiao Ying…” The Drunkard stared fiercely at his own hand, still gripping the divine sword, his spirit already unraveling.

“You… live well… don’t… don’t kill again…” The girl named Xiao Ying managed only these words before her soul scattered and vanished.

Scenes flew past his eyes, and the Drunkard’s mind plunged into chaos once more.

The next instant, as he regained his senses, he saw Wu Long’s spear tip pressed to his brow, ready to pierce his soul at any moment.

“I’ve lost,” the Drunkard said, turning away. His figure seemed even more desolate, his whole being more dejected.

“I think, in this illusion, those were the words the girl most wished to say to you,” Wu Long said lightly, withdrawing his spear into his body.

The Drunkard shuddered, countless scenes flashing through his mind.

To others, only a few breaths had passed, but to the Drunkard, it seemed an eternity.

When he turned to face them again, everyone saw that he was changed. The disheveled, unkempt man was gone, and light once more shone in his eyes.

If before he seemed a reclusive master, now this towering figure, his eyes gleaming with power, exuded the aura of a peerless ruler.

“The Drunkard… he has finally returned,” the white-robed youth murmured, his expression uncertain, thoughts unreadable.

“Thank you. If not for you, I fear another hundred million years would not have freed me from this knot in my heart.” The Drunkard smiled faintly, nodding slightly to Wu Long.

“Haha! Who would have thought my inadvertent act would create such an unrivaled powerhouse?” Wu Long laughed heartily. “Now that your heart is unburdened, I’m no match for you if we fight again.”

“If you’d wanted to kill me just now, it would have been effortless,” said the Drunkard. “Still, your soul attacks and illusions are indeed formidable.”

“Not at all. Of those strong enough to reach the Heavenly Heart Realm, you’re the only one my soul illusions can affect to such a degree.” Wu Long knew well that his soul illusions were only truly effective on those with deep shadows in their hearts.

He had been a ninth-rank Immortal Emperor for tens of millions of years, never deliberately suppressing his inner energies. Even so, the Drunkard had yet to transcend the Divine Tribulation, and Wu Long had already made up his mind about him.

“Hey, are you two still competing? You’ve already lost two out of three,” Wen Feng called out lazily.

A cold gleam flashed in the white-robed youth’s eyes. “Of course we’re still competing.”

“Li Lin, I’ll have to trouble you with this round…” the white-robed youth said through gritted teeth, glaring at Wen Feng.

“Hey… why me? I just came to watch the fun,” Li Lin, a youth standing behind the white-robed youth, replied helplessly.

The white-robed youth suddenly turned. “Don’t presume too much. You’re not the Drunkard, you’re in no position to speak to me like that…”

“Arrogant…” Li Lin dismissed him with a lazy drawl. “Why don’t you fight yourself? If you die, I’ll collect your body.”

“You—” The white-robed youth’s lips trembled with anger. “Best of five rounds, three wins. Besides you and me, which of these useless fools is worth sending out?”

“Then you fight two rounds,” Li Lin replied, still unwilling to step forward, and sat at the far end, as if the matter didn’t concern him.

“Fine… you have guts.” Murderous intent flashed in the white-robed youth’s eyes as he thought, “Once I deal with them, it’ll be your turn to die.” The very thought of killing Li Lin brought a sharp pain to his heart. “If that brat didn’t have that spatial artifact, I could kill him whenever I pleased…”

“So, who among you wants to die?” The white-robed youth’s gaze swept over Qin Shuang’s group of ten, his killing intent plain and undisguised.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” Wen Feng looked around, saw no one competing with him, and happily stepped forward. “Hey, Little White, how do you plan to fight?”

“How? By killing you, of course!” In a flash, the white-robed youth erupted in silver radiance, instantly enveloping Wen Feng, the Monarch of Golden Law.

A harsh, slicing sound echoed from within the silver light, as if blades were shredding flesh. Except for Qin Shuang, no one else’s immortal sense could penetrate the light to see what was happening.

Suddenly, at the heart of the silver sphere, an explosion ripped through the air, violent energy tearing rifts in the surrounding space.

Wen Feng emerged battered, covered in wounds of all sizes, his clothes in tatters—a most unseemly sight.

“Cough…” Wen Feng blushed, coughed and muttered, “Careless, too careless.” The power of gold within him surged, instantly healing his injuries and conjuring a new set of clothes.

“What a strong physical body—perhaps even stronger than the Mighty Vajra Bear,” the white-robed youth muttered, eyeing Wen Feng with a hint of jealousy. He alone knew the true strength of his attack; within the silver sphere, tens of thousands of sword-lights had erupted at once, each powerful enough to pierce even low-grade artifacts with ease.

“Mighty Vajra Bear?” Wen Feng laughed. “Perhaps. If I could choose, I’d gladly fight that bear for a whole day and night.”

“Hmph, don’t even dream of it in this life. Next life, reincarnate into the Feathered Net Realm and I’ll help you,” the white-robed youth snorted, suddenly producing a folding fan. With a flick, two monstrous beasts appeared.

“I forgot to mention, this fan is a spatial artifact—inside reside two ninth-rank Demon Emperors.” His face twisted with malice. “I want to see how you, a ninth-rank Immortal Emperor, handle two peak-level divine beasts at once.”

With a whoosh, a beast with a dog’s head, a tiger’s body, and twin wings swept past Wen Feng’s left, its wings alone carving through space with the force of a low-grade artifact.

“Three against one?” Wen Feng’s smile vanished, replaced by a grave expression. The power of gold within him surged wildly, and the second-tier Chaos Treasure, the Golden Law Pearl, materialized above his head.

“So those silver lights count as attacks? Let me show you the true strength of the Monarch of Golden Law from the Dark Star Realm.” With that, the Golden Law Pearl spun rapidly, golden rays shooting outward, while a ripple of space spread from the pearl, surrounded by faint energy of cosmic gold dust.

In a flash, a beam of golden light pierced the leopard-like beast. As the cosmic gold energy ripple closed in, the white-robed youth appeared beside the beast, waved his fan, and recalled both the dog-headed, tiger-bodied beast and the strange winged creature.

“Hmph, not bad.” Though the white-robed youth sounded impressed, his tone dripped with disdain.

“Freeze!” he barked. Instantly, Wen Feng felt the surrounding space constrict, locking him in place.

“Hmph, let me—” Wen Feng was about to use the Golden Law Pearl to break the spatial binding, but before he could finish, the white-robed youth struck, producing a round weapon with a razor-sharp edge.

With a hiss, the weapon sliced Wen Feng, then spun free and began to whirl at high speed.

Sweat beaded on Wen Feng’s brow.

With a thunderous boom, the Golden Law Pearl flared with power, blasting the ring weapon away. Wen Feng was thrown back, his face deathly pale.

“It even has a soul attack as a secondary effect,” Qin Shuang realized after a brief examination. Wen Feng was gravely wounded, and his soul had been struck as well.

“Die.” The white-robed youth, dissatisfied that Wen Feng had survived his killing blow, sent the ring weapon after him again.

“Stop,” Qin Shuang uttered softly. At once, the rampaging ring froze in midair, unable to advance another inch.

“He’s lost. I’ll take the next round,” Qin Shuang said coolly.

“Senior Qin, leave small fry like this to me,” a sudden voice boomed from the sky as Qin Shuang was about to intervene.

Everyone was startled. Only then did they notice the figure descending from above, surrounded by golden light, with flowing golden hair, emerald green eyes, and streaks of violet lightning crackling around him.

(To be continued)