Below the western gate tower.

Wulan slipped quietly back to the battlefield and found Chiyan’s body had become fertilizer for flowers. The four iron-armed golden apes had shared the same fate.

Only the Gold-Crowned Thorn Queen Duoduo remained in the area, wearing a sweet smile and the harmless expression of a small animal that had never harmed anything in its life. Nothing about her suggested she had just finished killing several enemies. She looked more like a princess waiting for a hero than the warrior who had produced the carnage around her.

From the direction of the imperial gardens, the battle continued to shake the sky — one shockwave crashing after another, unrelenting.

“If you like it,” Duoduo said pleasantly, “you can have the golden coffin, sister.”

“If I took that coffin,” Wulan said, with a quiet exhale that came out almost like a sigh, “I’d probably be living in it permanently before long.”

“That can’t be true. Sister is very capable.” Duoduo laughed and shook her head, her voice as bright as bells.

“I’m not like Chiyan.” Wulan looked out at the distant sounds of fighting without moving toward them. “I never wanted this battle at all. Our Three-Legged Golden Crow Clan has no grudge with Sky Tower — if anything, our ancestors had some small connection to it, long ago. Whether Yue Yang Titan leads you all to rise or not has nothing to do with us. It’s not a threat to our people. The only reason I’m here is the Solar King.” A pause. “Years ago, to keep peace for the Tang Valley, I was sent to marry him in my younger sister’s place. I’ve never had a single happy day since. I had no power to resist, no possibility of escape. Now I’m tired. If Yue Yang Titan wins today, I’m going back to the Tang Valley. And I’m going to live the life I actually want.”

The last words came out soft, almost to herself. Not quite a prayer, not quite a decision — something between the two.

“Well,” Duoduo said, tucking the ancient golden coffin into her own Grimoire, “I find you more interesting than Chiyan ever was.” She stepped off the ground with flowers blooming under each footfall, already drifting away. “Not that that means much for what happens next.”

“Freedom,” Wulan said quietly, to no one. She turned to watch the distant battle in the imperial gardens without approaching, afraid the Solar King might notice her.

The Purple-Gold Hall plaza. The foot of the golden steps.

The Solar King was losing ground.

By tier and raw power, he still outclassed Yue Yang by a significant margin. But Yue Yang’s secret techniques were inexhaustible, and his reinforcements had been arriving steadily.

First Aman and Hong. Then Jiang Ying and Ika. Then Duoduo, who had converted Chiyan into fertilizer and frightened Wulan off the field. The Solar King’s only remaining asset was his quasi-divine form — and Xiao Wenli’s golden serpent demon avatar was keeping it occupied, preventing it from rescuing its master.

In the rear hall, Princess Qianqian and the Drunken Cat Imperial Lady were still pushing forward, having linked up with Yue Yu and the Death Reaper Mantis and the Chaos Phantom. This was where Chiyan had retrieved the golden coffin from. Unlike Chiyan, who had come only for the coffin, the women here had come looking for the Divine Codex’s secret. Princess Qianqian felt it in her gut: there was a key somewhere in here, and without it, the Solar King — with his quasi-divine body and Restoration talent — could not be truly killed. The ancient Law-force of the Divine Codex itself was the only thing capable of erasing him.

And whatever that key was, Princess Qianqian increasingly felt it involved Yue Yu. Not herself.

“Where is it — find it faster!” Yue Yu’s voice was barely under control. Her eyes were wet. Every minute the battle dragged on was a minute that worked against her brother — the Solar King’s depth of power only became more of an advantage the longer a fight lasted.

“There’s another hall behind this one,” the Death Reaper Mantis called back, flying further ahead. What she found stopped her cold. The Purple-Gold Divine Hall wasn’t the end. There was a second hall beyond it. Possibly more. The Divine Codex world ran further than any of them had imagined.

“Another one? How are we supposed to find the secret if there’s no end to the place?” Princess Qianqian’s composure held but only barely.

“Stay calm — there has to be a way.” The Drunken Cat Imperial Lady kept saying it, even as tears ran down her face.

“Yes. I need to be calm. I need to save Xiao San. I need to think. I need to be calm—” Yue Yu had begun to repeat the words like a loop she couldn’t break free of, her eyes unfocusing, her thoughts folding back on themselves. Princess Qianqian took her by both hands, trembling, trying to reach her — and found her own throat had closed, her own tears coming, no words available.

The Chaos Phantom, who normally couldn’t stay still if there was energy nearby to consume, went quiet. She didn’t know how to comfort anyone. She just waited, floating, doing what Yue Yang had told her to do when she didn’t know what to decide: wait for someone else to figure it out.

“Maybe the Divine Codex’s secret is inside the golden coffin!” The thought came to the Death Reaper Mantis without warning. She said it before she’d fully examined it, just to put it into the air.

“I’ll go back. All of you stay — look after Yue Yu, and make sure she’s safe.” Princess Qianqian looked at the second hall ahead, felt the scale of it, and knew there wasn’t time for further exploration. She turned back toward where the golden coffin had been. She had seen something similar before — when Yue Yang had taken everyone to the outer edge of a Divine Codex space and a qilin girl named Bingyin had brought out an ancient golden coffin whose secrets they still hadn’t fully excavated. The same might apply here.

“Main mistress, I only just thought of it — I might be completely wrong!” The Death Reaper Mantis looked alarmed at being taken seriously. “I don’t have your instincts, I just said the first thing that came to mind — what if it’s the wrong place? Please don’t go back just on that, let’s keep thinking—”

“There’s no time to keep thinking. I’ll try every possibility I can reach.” Princess Qianqian put away the Prison Emperor divine sword, dried her face, and flew back at full speed.

“Don’t be rash, Qianqian—” The Drunken Cat Imperial Lady chased after her, afraid to let her go alone.

“What do we do now?” the Death Reaper Mantis asked, looking at the Chaos Phantom. The Chaos Phantom had no opinion. This was outside the scope of what she knew how to process — she simply stayed where she was, waiting, following Yue Yang’s long-standing instructions.

“I need to save Xiao San. I need to save Xiao San—” Yue Yu had gone somewhere far away inside herself. The sight of how much further the Divine Codex space extended had been the last weight on a structure that had already been close to breaking.

The Death Reaper Mantis watched her and felt the anxiety building past manageable levels.

She couldn’t offer strategies. She couldn’t think of solutions. She could only stand here being useless while the person she was supposed to protect slowly came apart.

She grabbed Yue Yu and started crying.

Properly. Loudly. Tears flying, arms tight around her.

Because of the crying, Yue Yu’s eyes slowly came back.

The sobs seemed to reach her where nothing else had — pulling her back from the recursive loop she’d been trapped in. A gentle light bloomed across Yue Yu’s body, rising from somewhere deep, and in that critical moment she broke free of the thought-spiral and arrived somewhere new. A clarity she hadn’t had before. A calmness that was genuine rather than forced.

She closed her eyes.

Tears fell one after another, catching the light around her, becoming small gold drops in the air.

When she opened her eyes again, the Death Reaper Mantis stared.

Something was shining in Yue Yu’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.

A breakthrough. A rise. Wisdom, visibly alive in her gaze.

“I understand now.” A faint smile found the corner of Yue Yu’s lips. She drew one slow, deep breath, turned, and flew back the way they’d come. The Death Reaper Mantis caught the Chaos Phantom and followed, covering her on both sides, barely containing the urgency: “Yue Yu, what do you understand? What are we doing?”

“I can’t explain it yet — let’s go first.” Yue Yu opened the Qiluo Umbrella, and her speed increased tenfold. She moved like something out of a painting.

Below the western gate tower.

Princess Qianqian and the Drunken Cat Imperial Lady arrived back — and found the golden coffin gone.

“Where is it?” Princess Qianqian felt the ground drop out from under her. Had Wulan slipped back and taken it while they were distracted? If so —

“Duoduo probably took it. Stay calm. She wouldn’t leave something that important unattended.” The Drunken Cat Imperial Lady’s hand on her arm was steadying.

“Then we need to find her — now.” Princess Qianqian drew the divine sword and shot forward.

In the Purple-Gold Hall plaza, the battle had reached absolute maximum intensity.

The Solar King unleashed his greatest technique: Solar Explosion. The energy it produced could annihilate every living thing in the space it touched. He was spending tiers. He was risking permanent power loss. He was willing to take critical wounds he might never fully recover from. All of it, to kill Yue Yang.

Yue Yang had his own final reserves — the Nirvana Flames, the Eternal Wheel, the Innate Sword Qi. And beyond all of those, the one force he could not consciously control.

The golden giant of the destiny card.

It arrived when his life was most at risk, never by his choice. What it represented — what Law it embodied — was something beyond the reach of analysis. Every enemy he had ever faced felt small before it. The Black Tide. The Nine-Radiance Empress. Now the Solar King. None of them were exceptions.

When the Solar King’s solar divine flames hit Yue Yang, the golden giant appeared.

In its presence, everything stopped.

Yue Yu flying toward the scene from the east. Princess Qianqian running from the west. All of them suspended in the air.

Time stopped.

Only the golden giant existed. And its Law permitted no argument.

Then — after an instant that lasted no time at all — Yue Yu and Princess Qianqian could move again, but barely, every motion labored, as though the air had become ten thousand times its weight. They didn’t feel crushed. They simply could not move freely.

The Solar King screamed as the golden giant’s foot came down on him.

His quasi-divine form didn’t last one second before it shattered completely. The Solar Bell struck the ground, bounced, came apart — hour hand, minute hand, second hand bending and flying in pieces, the war beast that had governed time for ten thousand years dying in the giant’s presence. Even if it eventually recovered and reconstituted itself, it would emerge at a lower tier. Permanently diminished.

From the distant gate tower, Wulan felt the pressure and was pressed flat against the stone. From her angle, all she could see was a foot. A foot extending upward beyond the clouds — thousands of meters, at minimum. The body above it was beyond the scope of what her eyes could comprehend.

Xiao Wenli’s golden serpent demon avatar — which the Solar King’s quasi-divine form had nearly destroyed — was restored instantly. Jiang Ying and Hong, who had been fighting past the edge of their endurance, felt strength flooding back into them.

Ika screamed with the energy she released. The Angel’s Blade spiraled. Aman roared, the Five-Element divine force detonating outward. Flowers bloomed in their thousands across Duoduo’s body.

And Yue Yang’s heart — still for so long — began to beat again.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The only rhythm in the entire plaza.

The golden giant vanished the instant Yue Yang lost consciousness. That force was tied to him — and with him gone under, it withdrew as completely as if it had never come. The only evidence left was the enormous footprint pressed into the ground.

“Hahahaha — hahahahahaha—” The Solar King was laughing. He was a ruin of a man — every bone broken, blood running from every opening in his face, body painting the ground red in a long smear — and he was laughing.

“I win, Yue Yang Titan, in the end I win — I beat you — the Divine Codex is mine — Sky Tower is mine — the Central Divine Hall — everything — mine — from this day no one will ever look down on me again, not you, not Ji Wuri, not anyone — I am the winner—”

“The Divine Codex — mine—”

“Mine—”

Sometime later — impossible to say how long — the Solar King had dragged himself up every golden step, leaving a continuous trail of blood behind him, and pulled himself through the doors of the Purple-Gold Divine Hall.

With a blood-soaked hand, he pressed his palm against the enormous Grimoire on the throne table.

His face was pure hunger. The victory after everything — the overwhelming release of it — had twisted something in his expression. And in his mind.

“It’s mine — you belong to me — Divine Codex — I possess you — I am a god — from now on I am a god—”

“From now on I will be a god!”

When the Solar King’s bloody hand made contact with the enormous Grimoire, a burst of golden light—

Below in the plaza, Yue Yu and Princess Qianqian and the others looked up. They saw the gold light flash from the hall above. Then came a sound — an explosion — and fragments of bone, flesh, and blood sprayed outward through the hall’s entrance.

The golden light died.

Everything went still.

A Grimoire came tumbling out through the doors and down the golden steps, its light fading rapidly.

It was the Solar King’s own Grimoire.

Inside the Purple-Gold Divine Hall, the enormous book — the one that might have been Sacred, might have been Divine — sat untouched on the throne table, exactly as it had been since the age of legend.

As though no one had ever laid a hand on it.