A young, sharp voice rang out, brimming with contempt and disdain. From the very start, the divine beast egg was already fuming, launching into a furious tirade without even pausing for breath.
"You woke me up, you damn pest! I was sleeping, and now you think you can contract me? Tell me, do you even know what that thing between your ears is? You call it a brain?
Utter moron! Hurry up and put me back, or when I hatch, I'll eat you first!"
The divine beast egg was on a rampage, hurling insults left and right, completely unaware of Song Wanníng's expression.
She was smiling—but her eyes had darkened, shadows gathering behind her gaze. An eerie pressure coiled around her, subtle but palpable.
She stared at the egg without blinking.
The more it ranted, the deeper her smile grew.
Eventually, the egg ran out of steam. It fell silent and finally noticed that something felt off about her. Something deeply, dangerously wrong.
But so what?
It was a divine beast.
No matter how powerful these humans were, they couldn't force a contract if it didn't agree. That was the rule. Yet Song Wanníng's calm reaction irked it.
After a pause, a malicious idea struck the egg. If she wouldn't get angry, then maybe she'd beg. That would be fun.
"Hey, you lowly human," the egg sneered, "you're not even close to being worthy of me. But if you kneel and kowtow a few times, maybe I'll consider signing a servant contract with you.
That's right. I am the master. You are the servant. Got it?
With my power, you could run rampant across the cultivation world. People would bow just from hearing my name. Not to brag, but my bloodline fought in the ancient wars of the Great Desolation. Those so-called demon overlords? Trash. All of them.
Being my servant would be the greatest blessing of your miserable human life.
So? What's your answer?" The egg glanced down at her, haughty and dismissive. It didn't see a person in front of it. Just another piece of trash.
In the days of the Great Desolation, humans were nothing more than prey.
How dare one dream of becoming its master?
What a joke.
Before Song Wanníng could respond, a flash of golden light burst from her side. A small golden sword zipped into the air, trembling with fury.
"You rotten egg, who do you think you're talking to? You dare insult my sister? Divine beast? Ha! You're just a brainless idiot!!!" The golden sword had never seen such an arrogant creature.
Its master commanded awe wherever she went. Others bowed respectfully, even if they didn't agree with her. No one dared to insult her so openly.
Who had ever dared treat Song Wanníng like this?
The sword was shaking, glowing a deep crimson as it struggled to hold itself back.
"Who do you think you are, little toy?" the egg snapped. "You dare talk to me like that? I'll make her break you first once she becomes my servant."
The egg's tone oozed malice. Even without a face, the sword could feel the disdain radiating from it.
It buzzed in rage, darting around in frustration. If it could, it would've stabbed that foul-mouthed egg right then and there.
But it had no orders. It couldn't act without Song Wanníng's command. No matter how angry it was, her mission came first.
"Hey, you worthless servant. Have you made up your mind?" the egg said, starting to sound impatient. "If you wait too long, I won't even give you the chance to serve me."
Dealing with these idiots was exhausting. It would rather go back to sleep.
"Heh."
A low chuckle escaped Song Wanníng at last. She finally moved, staring down at the egg cradled in her hands. Her killing intent had reached its peak, yet the smile on her face never faltered.
"I've made up my mind," she said softly.
The egg felt a flicker of smugness. Of course she had. These pitiful humans were all the same—unwilling to give up on power. Even if it meant servitude, they would crawl just to sign a contract with it.
Fine. It would be generous this once. Take in a servant. Let her fight while it lounged around and got fed for free. "Alright then. Let's get this over with. Hurry up and contract me. I need to get back to sleep. You damn nuisances wasted enough of my time already!"
It scoffed, completely dismissive, lounging in her hands as though it were royalty.
Song Wanníng's smile deepened, then vanished entirely.
So this was what it meant to be a divine beast?
She had expected arrogance—divine beasts were proud by nature, even the average demon beasts looked down on humans—but this?
This was not pride. This was rot.
So crude, so shameless. Not worthy of reverence at all.
Did it really think being a divine beast made it untouchable?
Everything under heaven had a counter. No one creature ruled above all.
Her eyes turned cold. That smile of hers dropped into a flat, unreadable line.
She no longer wanted it. But she couldn't let it fall into Bai Yang's hands either.
Not even the slightest chance.
Which left only one option.
Destroy it.
Burn this arrogant, foul-mouthed parasite to ash.
Her spiritual pressure flared as she moved. A wave of pure sword intent surged from her, enveloping the egg with crushing force.
Her domain, the pinnacle of sword cultivation, wrapped the egg in an invisible cage of dominance and will.
In the past, this would have been enough. Anything lesser would've knelt. But this time, the divine beast egg didn't even flinch. It felt no suppression. No compulsion.
Instead, it erupted with fury.
"You wretched servant! What are you doing? Are you trying to kill me?! So that's how it is, huh? Pretending to be obedient while secretly scheming to murder me? You've got guts, human! Fine, let's fight to the death!!!"
Flames ignited around it, thick and unnatural.
Song Wanníng's pupils shrank slightly.
These weren't ordinary flames.
They were black-purple, like ghost fire, rippling with eerie stillness.
It was Shenyou Profound Fire—one of the top three on the Heavenly Flame Ranking.
Said to burn not just flesh, but the will itself.
It targeted the soul. Far more terrifying than physical flame.
For a cultivator, soul damage was far worse than a body wound. The latter could heal with time or pills. But the former?
Sometimes, it never recovered at all.
Song Wanníng's heartbeat quickened.
She'd always known Bai Yang had a divine beast companion, but she'd never seen it up close.
So this was its talent?
Shenyou Mystic Fire…
The egg crackled with fire, laughing wildly.
"Scared now, aren't you? Come on! Let me see what you've got, you stupid slave! Try and kill me, if you dare!" It danced inside her sword domain, leaping, spinning, mocking her without fear.
Song Wanníng's expression darkened.
Even after sleeping for countless years, its soul was still far stronger than hers.
Her domain of sword intent couldn't suppress it.
Did that mean she had to let it go?
No.
Only one of them could walk away from this.
Either she destroyed it, or it destroyed her.
Her gaze sharpened. Her fingers moved.
She formed a spell seal with both hands and launched herself toward the egg. She couldn't allow outside forces to detect the commotion. She had to end this swiftly and cleanly. Drawing on every thread of her cultivation, she sent her spirit diving deeper into her sword domain.
The moment she did, a strange sensation surged through her.
It felt like… she was holding the fate of all things in her grasp.
She had become the sword that ruled over life and death.