Chapter 113: Flight

"Hahaha! A mere God King—still nothing more than a defeated foe beneath my feet! Who else dares—"

Pfft.

Before he could finish, Chen Xiaoming coughed up another mouthful of blood. His aura dimmed once more, but without hesitation, he triggered his divine consciousness. A surge of pure power poured into his body. In the blink of an eye, his injuries mended, and his energy soared back to its peak.

"What the—? How is that possible? His wounds—?"

"He has divine medicine! He must have a divine pill in his possession!"

"Don't let him escape! The medicine hasn't fully fused into his body yet. Right now, he is a walking elixir!"

Inside the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, gasps of disbelief rang out as Chen Xiaoming recovered instantly. The eyes of numerous aged cultivators gleamed with a dangerous light, as though they were gazing not at a man, but at a peerless beauty they longed to devour.

In this world, nothing was more precious than divine medicine.

To instantly restore one's injuries and return to peak form—what else could achieve that besides a true god-tier elixir?

Already, many were itching to move. In their eyes, Chen Xiaoming had become a rare and potent treasure. If they could seize him and refine him into pills... a thousand more years of life might just be within reach.

Hmph.

With a cold snort, Chen Xiaoming's sharp gaze swept across the room. Those preparing to pounce hesitated, a cold sweat forming. The awe-inspiring pressure of someone who had just slain a God King settled over them like a storm cloud.

But Chen Xiaoming didn't strike again. With a casual wave of his hand, he stowed away the unconscious middle-aged man, then stepped into the void—vanishing without a trace.

"Huh?"

Everyone blinked in surprise. He was gone—just like that? Some stirred, tempted to pursue, but no one dared move. The shadow of death loomed too heavily. Minutes passed, and still none dared act.

Then, in a quiet corner, an old man's eyes flickered with realization. His voice rang out in shock:

"Wait! We've been duped! The divine medicine didn't actually heal him! Something's wrong with his phenomenon—his strength must be crippled!"

The moment the words dropped, hearts across the room skipped a beat. Recalling the way Chen Xiaoming had acted... eyes lit up with revelation. In an instant, figures surged outward in pursuit.

Within moments, nearly 90% of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion had emptied. The Centennial Immortal Banquet, meant to be a grand event, ended before it even began.

After all, compared to divine medicine, even the finest banquet was worthless.

Outside East Heaven City.

"Damn... they caught on that fast?"

Chen Xiaoming muttered bitterly as he sensed the turbulent ripples behind him. He activated another spatial jump, fleeing once more, a wry smile on his lips.

This time... he'd truly played himself.

Originally, he could have relied on his regenerative abilities to go toe-to-toe with that middle-aged man and wear him down. That man's attack, while powerful, wasn't enough to kill him outright.

As long as he lived, Chen Xiaoming could fight, recover, and grind the enemy down. After all, wielding a God-King Armament burned immense energy—there was no way the man could sustain it forever.

But no—Chen Xiaoming had to get cocky. He made a wild gamble: trying to tug a branch from the Hollowheart Willow lingering in the void behind him.

Instead of pulling a branch, he pulled down an entire phantom realm. A surge of gray qi flooded into his body, and only by tapping into his bloodline origin was he able to purge it.

Unfortunately, doing so damaged that very origin—and his system's recovery function couldn't fix it.

Now, Chen Xiaoming's strength had plummeted. He probably couldn't even beat a Holy Lord.

Glancing behind him, a vast tide of figures surged in pursuit. Among them were many terrifying old monsters, long past their prime but still deadly.

"This is a loss... a major blood-loss."

Chen Xiaoming sighed and shook his head. This had to be the biggest L of his life—not only had he failed to win over the Ruthless Emperor, but he'd injured his own core and tanked his cultivation. Who knew how long it would take to recover?

Boom!

Just as he was thinking, beams of divine light shot at him from the front-right. Space shattered, leaving spiderweb cracks spiraling toward him. Their goal: to cut off his escape through the void.

"Damn it! They're already this close?!"

With his power so crippled, those old freaks—each one nearing God King level—were like cats who'd finally spotted their mouse. And they were hell-bent on the catch.

"No way I'm sticking around for this."

He knew his limits. If just one of them had a defensive God-King Armament, he wouldn't even be able to scratch them—much less fight back.

Summoning his system interface, Chen Xiaoming prepared to activate his Boundary Break. He hated to do it, but he had no choice. He'd flee, lick his wounds, and come back stronger to reclaim his dignity.

Just as he was about to press the activation point—

A soft, jade-like hand gently landed on his shoulder.

A dazzling sword light split the void, and in a flash of radiant glow, their figures vanished.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

A few elderly figures with flowing white hair gave chase. Watching Chen Xiaoming slip away again, they growled in frustration.

"Chase him!"

The Xuan Yu Platform blazed with light, and the pursuit continued.

...

Three months later.

Southern Eastern Wastelands — Zhao Kingdom Territory.

"Phew. Finally lost those old monsters. Chased me like dogs, damn."

Chen Xiaoming collapsed weakly beside a clear stream, nestled deep within the Qingshan Mountains of the Zhao Kingdom. After three exhausting months of pursuit, he had finally shaken them.

The surrounding landscape was a vision of serenity—lush greenery, birdsong, fragrant blossoms—it truly lived up to its name: Green Mountains.

With a sigh, Chen Xiaoming turned to glance upstream. There, a beautiful figure in white robes sat in silent meditation by the water.

"Thanks. Honestly, I thought you were gonna leave me behind for good."

The woman, unsurprisingly, was none other than the Ruthless Emperor. She remained silent, seated on a rock, eyes closed in quiet cultivation.

Chen Xiaoming didn't mind her coldness. He smiled softly, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes.

People called her the Ruthless One, a title earned through eternity—but in truth, she was sentimental. She'd once left her legacy to the very village where she'd grown up.

And besides... she wasn't an Emperor yet. She hadn't truly reached that legendary realm.

Which meant... there was still hope.

Drip by drip, stone is worn away. No need to rush.

With a subtle smirk, Chen Xiaoming lay down in the grass, focusing on restoring his wounded bloodline origin. All things considered, maybe this round wasn't a total loss.

Just then, the Ruthless Emperor opened her eyes. In a blink, she was beside him. Her slender jade finger tapped his chest—sending him floating helplessly into the air, her grip locking him in place.

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing? I mean, I do like you, but we barely know each other! We're out here in the wild—don't be so impatient. I... I refuse to give in!"

He cried out dramatically, narrowing his eyes with a mischievous grin, his face plastered with a roguish expression—like a chaste gentleman reluctantly surrendering himself.

The atmosphere froze.

From behind her mask, the Ruthless Emperor's eyes narrowed. A chilling wave of killing intent surged from her.

"Speak. Who are you, really?"

-------

Want to read ahead of schedule?

Join here for advance chapters: patreon.com / igotneonlight