Chapter 61: Heavenly Dragon Sheds Its Scales, Six Saints Slay the Monarch
Ji Lingxiu stood before the bronze mirror in her bedchamber.
The reflection was still noble and resplendent, her brocade palace dress setting off skin as fair as snow, yet her eyes were colder than ice.
She slowly raised her hand, a wisp of spiritual power gathering at her fingertip—so faint it flickered like a candle in the wind.
The Saint Realm…
Just thinking of those two words pressed against her chest like suffocating weight.
In front of true great powers, her cultivation and noble birth were fragile as an infant's.
"Heh…"
A sudden laugh slipped from her lips, bitter and self-mocking, laced with hatred.
Yes, she was that weak.
The spiritual power at her fingertip scattered. She clenched her hand tightly, nails digging deep into her palm until blood seeped through her fingers, staining the golden embroidery of her sleeve.
If she could not change anything, then at least… she would leave behind one last hope for Great Zhou.
Turning, she stepped into the inner chamber, opened a hidden compartment, and began packing precious items into her storage pouch—the protective talisman bestowed by the founding ancestor, jade slips recording the royal clan's secret arts, and the dragon-patterned jade pendant that proved her bloodline.
"Princess?"
A soft voice drifted in, making Ji Lingxiu's spine stiffen.
Li'er stood beyond the beaded curtain with a tray of tea. Her almond eyes shimmered with worry, her manner meek and obedient as always. "This servant brewed calming tea for you…"
Ji Lingxiu turned slowly, gaze falling on that familiar, hateful face.
Those hands…
She felt again the icy blade sliding into her back, the sharp sting in her chest—her wound throbbed with phantom pain!
Murderous intent surged, threatening to overwhelm her reason. She longed to crush Li'er's throat, to let her taste betrayal's agony.
But in the end, she only accepted the tea with calm fingers, not a tremor showing.
"Leave it here. I will drink it later."
Li'er bowed respectfully and withdrew, her back still the picture of deference.
Ji Lingxiu stared at the cup, her eyes glinting with killing frost.
No—she could not strike now! To kill Li'er would only alarm the enemy too soon.
She had even considered rushing madly before the founding ancestor and revealing everything. Yet who would believe the words of a "hysterical" princess? To the exalted powers above, her voice was worthless.
In the end… she was still too weak.
For the first time, she truly despised her own helplessness.
Outside, the cold wind wailed, mocking her powerlessness.
Ji Lingxiu closed her eyes, burying all bitterness deep within.
If she could not change the ending… then at the very least, she must survive to the final moment!
…
That night.
The imperial city blazed like day, ten thousand glazed lanterns illuminating the sky.
Ji Wuque sat high upon the nine-tiered jade steps. His black-gold imperial robe shimmered, white hair cascading like snow, yet his youthful face remained strikingly handsome.
Sixty thousand years had left no trace upon him. Only his abyssal eyes bore the weight of authority enough to suppress the entire Xuanying Continent.
"Blessings upon the Ancestor, may your holy life be eternal—"
Voices roared like mountains and seas as emissaries from countless sects bowed low, hiding resentment and fear deep in their eyes.
No matter their hatred, at this moment they had no choice but to kneel before the Saint Venerable who had dominated an age.
Boom!
Suddenly, the stone tiles before the jade steps exploded. A black shadow burst from the earth like a ghost!
The instant its pitch-black blade thrust forward, time itself seemed to freeze within the great hall.
Gray mist coiled around the edge, decaying and fracturing space—this was no simple assassination. It was a regicide plotted for millennia!
At that same instant, five seemingly ordinary attendants among the guests sprang into action.
Their blood-colored artifacts wove together into a net vast enough to blot out the heavens. The strands of that net were forged from countless dragon scales, each inscribed with densely packed runes of curse.
Immortal Formation: Heavenly Dragon Sheds Its Scales!
"Saint Venerable?!"
The horrified cry of National Preceptor Xuan Tianjun was drowned in the roar of collapsing laws.
Who could have imagined that a mighty Saint would willingly burrow beneath the earth for a hundred days, sealing his own cultivation to pose as a dead man?
And the other five—who would have thought they disguised themselves as mere attendants, smiling as they poured tea and wine for guests?
Now all six revealed themselves, clad in black and masked, their faces hidden from sight!
Ji Wuque's imperial robe suddenly ignited with golden Dao fire, yet when it touched the net of chains, the strands only grew blood-red.
Before the horrified gazes of all, the Xuantian Sacred Body—long hailed as invulnerable, his foundation for ruling the world—began to peel away like a shell breaking apart!
"Puh—"
The muffled sound of a black blade piercing his chest rang out.
"Boom—!"
Under the blood-red formation, the entire imperial city trembled violently.
"Die!" Ji Wuque roared in fury. Never could he have imagined that these people would dare act during his birthday celebration, striking at the very heart of Great Zhou's power!
Ignoring the wound within, he threw a punch. Space shuddered, and a dragon's shadow ten thousand zhang long roared forth, striking directly at one of the masked Saint Venerables.
That man raised his palm to block in haste, but was still blasted back a hundred zhang. The force tore away part of his mask, revealing a pale jawline and a trace of golden blood at the corner of his mouth.
The chains of the Heavenly Dragon Sheds Its Scales Formation coiled around Ji Wuque, suppressing the golden glow of the Xuantian Sacred Body until it flickered like a dying flame. Yet his punches only grew fiercer.
For a time, the six Saints could not approach!
"His Sacred Body is broken—he won't last long!" another Saint Venerable shouted coldly, thrusting his black blade once more at Ji Wuque's heart. The edge was wrapped in decaying laws, space collapsing wherever it passed.
Ji Wuque snorted, his shattered Sacred Body trembling violently. He met the blade with his chest, letting it pierce him, while his right hand turned to a claw and seized the attacker's wrist.
"Masked coward—unworthy of the title Saint!"
Crack! Bones snapped. The Saint Venerable groaned as his wrist shattered. His black blade slipped from his hand, yet still bound by law, it drove again into Ji Wuque's chest.
"Puh—"
Blood sprayed, but Ji Wuque seemed unfazed. He countered with another fist, the ancestral dragon's shadow roaring as it sent a third Saint Venerable flying. That body smashed through several palaces, raising clouds of dust.
"Maintain the formation! Kill him!"
The six Saint Venerables joined their seals. The blood-red chains of the Heavenly Dragon Formation constricted tighter, like venomous serpents binding Ji Wuque's limbs, suppressing his movements.
At the same time, six distinct Saint Realm laws wove into a net, sealing the heavens and earth, cutting off every escape.
Covered in blood, his Sacred Body shattered, Ji Wuque's eyes only grew sharper.
"With just you six, you think to slay the monarch?"
Throwing back his head, he let out a thunderous roar. The last vestiges of ancestral dragon power within him erupted. Golden light blazed like a scorching sun, shattering half the chains!
"Funeral of Heaven!"
He slammed a fist into the earth. The city's ley lines surged, boundless dragon qi rising skyward, transforming into a torrent of destruction that swept toward the six Saints!
"Puh—!"
All six coughed blood and staggered back. Their masks tore away in the gale, yet with secret arts they hid their faces still. Only their eyes betrayed deep shock.
"Do not falter! He is spent—finish it!"
They unleashed their final trump cards, laws intertwining into a single world-ending beam, striking directly at Ji Wuque's brow!
"Boom—!"
Golden light exploded. The Xuantian Sacred Body shattered completely.
Ji Wuque stood unmoving, a black blade lodged through his chest, a bloody fissure splitting his brow. Yet his figure did not fall.
"So it was you… I see now…"
A faint laugh left his lips. His gaze swept over the six, eyes filled with unwillingness, regret, and hatred. Then his body fractured piece by piece, scattering into golden light.
The six Saint Venerables dared not relax until the last motes faded. Only then did one lift a hand, wiping blood from his mouth, and whisper: "Go."
Shadows flickered, and the six vanished in an instant.
…
It had happened too fast. Only now did screams, cries, and the clash of chaos erupt like thunder.
"The Ancestor… the Ancestor has fallen?!" A minister collapsed, his jade cup shattering.
"Run! Run—!"
The banquet seats dissolved into panic.
Ornamental pins fell from noblewomen's hair, crushed beneath fleeing feet. Envoys from sects overturned banquet tables, fine wine spilling across scarlet carpets like rivers of blood. Elder royals stumbled forward only to be shoved and trampled by the desperate tide.
"Protect His Majesty! Protect His Majesty!" the commander of the Imperial Guard bellowed, his voice lost in the uproar.
From the eastern corridor came a crack of splintering beams—the battle's aftershocks had broken the supports. The glazed roof collapsed in a deafening crash.
Amid shattered tiles and unending cries, the city walls trembled as a tide of war cries surged from outside, drawing closer like a storm.
A general holding the tiger tally felt his pupils shrink, his sword humming uneasily at his waist. Even the most calculating courtiers went pale.
The very air was thick with suffocating dread. Even the dullest palace maid stood frozen. All eyes turned toward the city's outer walls.
And in every heart arose the same chilling truth—
After tonight… the heavens would change.
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