Chapter 111: Duel Against the God King

"She's mine. Who gave you permission to touch her?"

High above the nine heavens, Chen Xiaoming's voice echoed thunderously. The middle-aged man froze for a moment, not expecting someone else to step forward.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Chen Xiaoming. The strike he had unleashed earlier had been utterly erased with a single gesture—an act that piqued his curiosity.

Below them, within the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, the entire hall fell silent. Ouyang Qian, Nangong Xian'er, the Holy Son of Tian Ling, and others all stared at Chen Xiaoming, unsure of what to say.

Even though Chen Xiaoming had slain the Holy Son of Xuan Yu and two elders of the Xuan Yu Holy Land, no one believed he could possibly survive now.

Because that middle-aged man… was a God King—a name that echoed throughout the Eastern Wastelands.

"It's over. It's all over. Completely doomed."

Wang De, who hadn't yet managed to flee, was utterly flustered. What had only been suspicion before was now undeniable—Chen Xiaoming had openly admitted it. And he'd said it to a God King.

If both the Ruthless Emperor and Chen Xiaoming were slain on the spot by the God King, that would be manageable. He could distance himself from them and offer some excuses. Given the Northern Plains Wang Clan's influence, no one would press too hard.

But if those two escaped the God King's grasp… then, tsk tsk, Wang De's life would spiral into darkness.

Above the void, the Ruthless Emperor quietly watched Chen Xiaoming step forward. She didn't speak. She only gazed at him, unmoved.

She had been through too much. From weakness to strength, she had been bullied, deceived, and trampled upon—until her heart had forged unshakable will and steel resolve.

Silent and calm, she focused on mending her internal injuries while deep in thought.

"Interesting," the middle-aged man said with a trace of amusement. Gazing at the young man blocking his path, he raised his right hand again and struck.

Under the starry sky, the countless stars trembled. Celestial light spilled across the heavens as the laws of the Great Dao wove together, forming the Palm of the Galactic Dao.

Its terrifying might shattered the void. Endless divine pressure blanketed the entire Eastern Heaven City, as if the river of stars was falling from the heavens. Millions of starlights burst forth, divine brilliance shaking the world.

"Hmph."

Chen Xiaoming snorted coldly. A flash of silver gleamed in his eyes. The power of his bloodline origin surged to the limit. Though he had only begun to grasp the intermediate-level bloodline origin, he was far from mastering it. Had he reached its peak, even a Great Emperor would not faze him—let alone a mere God King.

Boom!

In that instant, it was as if billions of voids collapsed. A vast ancient tree's shadow appeared behind Chen Xiaoming, swelling rapidly in a blink. Only a slender, tender branch remained—three wisps of willow hanging from it.

As the willows swayed, the void shattered around them. Boundless divine radiance turned night into day. The silver glow blazed like a rising sun, illuminating the entire world.

In that moment, a primordial aura of chaos permeated the void, evoking the dawn of creation—when all returned to origin and the flow of the Spatial Dao first stirred.

Bathed in the divine light of space, Chen Xiaoming descended like a Heavenly Emperor incarnate. With each movement, silver light erupted and split the void apart.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The colossal Palm of the Galactic Dao shattered beneath his blows. Cloaked in silver light, Chen Xiaoming advanced. The three willows behind him danced with his stride, and the realm beneath his feet fractured—he stood like a war god, unstoppable and unyielding. His aura now rivaled, if not surpassed, that of a God King.

The willows quivered, and a silver blossom bloomed—divine radiance intertwining with the lines of the Dao.

"One thought blossoms, lighting a thousand mountains and rivers."

A radiant arc of silver slashed across the sky, brushing like a dragon's calligraphy. The void split as if it were canvas, cleaving straight toward the middle-aged man—transforming the space around him into a magnificent scroll of celestial art.

The silver radiance streaked across the scroll. Flowers of the Dao bloomed in its wake, inscribed with the patterns of cosmic reason.

Within the endless surge of the void, one silver blossom after another bloomed—adorning the infinite stars.

For the first time, the middle-aged man's expression shifted. The void around him had frozen into painted scrolls. As the silver light shattered it, a dangerous aura surged. Divine light blazed within him as he stepped off a falling star, narrowly escaping just as the silver light closed in.

"Hmph! You think you can run?"

Chen Xiaoming's cold voice rang out as silver brilliance flared once more. The void the middle-aged man had just escaped was sealed into yet another scroll.

This time, there was no room to flee. Silver light exploded outward, and within a hundred meters of the man, all space turned into layers upon layers of ink-dark starry paintings.

Before the man could channel the laws of the Dao, the scrolls overlapped, trapping him once more.

"Break!"

One of the willow strands behind Chen Xiaoming swung forward, and a silver brush materialized from divine light. He drew it across the scroll.

The canvas tore apart. Space collapsed, ready to shred the middle-aged man within.

The void crumbled. Silver divine light annihilated all. A hush fell upon the heavens and earth.

Down below, within the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, no one dared speak. Eyes wide, they could only stare in stunned silence.

A God King of the Eastern Wastelands… had been slain?

That was a God King! How could he die like that—and at the hands of a mere rising star?

"It's over. The sky has fallen."

Wang De stared blankly at Chen Xiaoming's figure in the sky. He had imagined many outcomes—capture, defeat, even death—but never… this.

A God King, one of the Eastern Wasteland's few known existences, had been slain. And right here, before their eyes.

When he thought of his family's strongest backer, who was only at the level of a Holy Lord, Wang De felt deep regret.

Bringing Chen Xiaoming here… might be the worst mistake of his life.

Elsewhere, Ouyang Qian, the Holy Son of Tian Ling, and the other saints and disciples stood in shocked awe. Only the older generation's powerhouses gazed calmly at the shattered void—as if waiting for something.

The Ruthless Emperor's eyes locked onto a single spot within the radiant silver light—where something was off, something different.

Within the brilliance, specks of starlight began to emerge. Chen Xiaoming watched the scene with calm eyes. He no longer attacked. In the air, a terrifying pressure now locked onto him.

Boom.

As though countless stars exploded, silver light dissipated like melting snow beneath the light of a mighty relic—a Heavenly Mirror forged from the power of the starry heavens. It hovered above, brimming with divine law.

The middle-aged man stepped forth from the fading light, bathed in starlight. His gaze shone with endless galaxies, and he smiled faintly at Chen Xiaoming.

"Not bad. Forcing me to draw my God-King Armament—you can be proud of that."

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