Yet in the next instant, the myriad races' great powers raised their brows in astonishment. Fully a third of their number abruptly stepped back, showing no intent to engage or restrain the humans. They even adopted a posture of casual indifference—"do as you please."

"You lot..."

The remaining great powers, frantic with urgency, opened their mouths to accuse them of betrayal—only to realize what was happening. Those retreating were precisely the elders from the War God, Thunder Firmament, Dark Soul, Flame Soul, and Shadow Charm Clans. A glance at the battlefield revealed the truth: their clans' prodigies had already been wiped out—dead to the last.

...

The great powers whose prodigies still lived burned with desperation, itching to charge in and rescue them. Those whose prodigies had fallen chose to sit on the sidelines. They secretly hoped every last prodigy would die. This drew a faint smile to Feng Baiyu's lips. With so many races among the myriad, their internal conflicts far exceeded those within humanity.

My clan's prodigies are dead—why should yours live?

It wasn't mere petty rivalry; it was a struggle over future interests. Humanity's rise back then had much to do with the myriad races' disunity. In those days, the Heavenly Emperor had teetered on the brink of death multiple times—miraculously surviving each crisis. Shadows of myriad races interference lurked in several instances. Their motives needed no explanation: tripping up rivals.

...

At this moment, the great powers high in the firmament stood in tense deadlock. None could influence the battlefield below.

Within the Heavy Pupil Pure Land, Ye Chen punched through foes like children—one fist per target—rampaging unchecked, thoroughly enjoying the slaughter.

Though some myriad prodigies refused to await death passively—fighting desperately, joining forces, or launching sneak attacks—their resistance was laughably futile, like ants shaking a tree. They couldn't scratch Ye Chen.

With a sweep of his gaze, relying on his keen sensitivity to origin auras, Ye Chen confirmed that every prodigy present was a genuine myriad races elite. The weakest among them matched the level of the third-generation Star River King Body. The strongest few nearly rivaled the fallen Ba Wang. One or two were closing in on the Holy Prince's caliber.

The joy of this bountiful harvest filled Ye Chen's face with smiles. His strikes grew almost gentle—yet still one-hit kills. In mere blinks, dozens more prodigies fell within the pristine realm!

...

Silence blanketed the entire field.

The myriad races onlookers nearly ground their teeth to dust. The prodigies they ordinarily revered and looked up to proved as fragile as ants before Ye Chen—falling one after another. The sight left them trembling in terror, souls seemingly frozen. In this extreme fear, their thoughts pierced through time, delving into bloodline memories. The terror inflicted by that ancient Heavenly Emperor surged forth like a tidal wave.

Ye Chen's figure began to overlap with the Heavenly Emperor's in their minds. Truth be told, every detail of the Heavenly Emperor's rise had been unearthed. Many times, sheer luck had preserved him. Nearly every myriad race had once lamented: if only his enemies back then hadn't been so foolish and shortsighted...

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Would the myriad races not be in such misery today? This had always left them somewhat unconvinced. Yet now, the Heavenly Emperor's heir before them needed no luck at all. With raw, overwhelming strength, he slaughtered the myriad prodigies to the last. Even that lingering defiance was shattered—leaving no room for excuses.

It was utterly suffocating. The human spectators, meanwhile, fell silent. Earlier, some had worried for Ye Chen; many had grumbled over his "aiding the enemy" at the auction. But now, they quietly admitted they had been wrong.

The Heavenly Emperor's heir wasn't aiding the enemy—he had meticulously schemed, baiting the hook for the myriad races to bite. With this massive crop of pinnacle myriad prodigies fallen, the myriad races teetered on generational collapse—vitality grievously wounded. The Heavenly Emperor's heir truly understood the greater good.

...

High in the firmament, the myriad races' great powers watched their prodigies fall one by one, hearts aching with unbearable pain. The Age of Dharma's End loomed ever closer. Resources grew scarcer by the day, and lifespans would soon shorten dramatically. No one could predict the horrors that awaited.

In this critical juncture of survival, the loss of prodigies could spell generational collapse for a race—leaving them vulnerable to extinction by rivals. Yet as more prodigies perished, fewer myriad races' great powers remained entangled with the human experts.

Those whose prodigies still lived grew increasingly frantic. Especially the Divine Silkworm Clan's great power. Though Shen Yu currently huddled at the outermost edge, seemingly unnoticed, at this rate his death was not far off. After all, Ye Chen bore the Heavy Pupils—those inscrutable eyes might well pierce the heaven-deceiving divine art Shen Yu relied on for survival.

Timid as he was, Shen Yu remained the most gifted of their clan in the last two generations. He could not be allowed to fall.

Enduring the heartache, the Divine Silkworm's great power was transmitted urgently to his clansmen in the city, "Hurry and invite the Little Stone Sovereign! Tell him we are willing to offer half the ninth-molt legacy exuvia left by the true immortal of old—to aid in repairing his stone body. We only ask that he intervene, stop the Heavenly Emperor's heir, and rescue Shen Yu!"

The Little Stone Sovereign was the final hope in the Divine Silkworm's great power's heart.

...

Within the Heavy Pupil Pure Land, Ye Chen waved his hand like a death god presiding over life and extinction. A winged myriad races prodigy, lying in wait for a sneak attack, was seized in his grasp the next instant—crushed without even time for a scream.

Ye Chen was already terrifying. Augmented by the pristine realm, slaying semi-saints required not even a blink. Mechanical suppression—extract origin—toss into the small world...

The motions flowed seamlessly, without the slightest hesitation. Soon, the original force of over thirty myriad prodigies dwindled to five.

Ye Chen swept his gaze across them, a satisfied arc curving his lips, for he spotted his Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod. Though he now possessed the Sea-Calming Divine Treasure, Ye Chen still held great fondness for the cudgel. Regaining what was lost felt exceptionally gratifying.

He planned to clear out the rest first. Then retrieve the cudgel last. But in that moment, Ye Chen's brow arched faintly, as though sensing something unusual. He turned toward Myriad Races Immortal City.

From within the city, a streak of black light soared skyward, tearing through the void with apocalyptic momentum as it hurtled toward him. The black light resembled a meteor wreathed in roaring flames—its aura horrifying to the extreme. Where it passed, the air itself ignited with sizzling burns.

In mere instants, it reached the edge of the pristine realm. Then, with an earth-shaking boom, it smashed against the realm, sending ripples cascading through the surrounding space. The next moment, the Heavy Pupil Pure Land was forcibly torn open. The black light ghosted inside like a specter.

This stunning scene drew raised brows from all. Who was this? Capable of forcibly breaching the Heavenly Emperor heir's Heavy Pupil Pure Land? Such strength defied imagination.

High in the firmament, the myriad races' great powers started in shock. "The Little Stone Sovereign was in the immortal city?"

Feng Baiyu and the other human existences watched the black light, brows furrowing as gravity flashed in their eyes. "This... could it be the Holy Spirit Clan?"

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