After the Tairen Queen departed, Lieyan and Bi Lv both turned to look at Yueyang.

Yueyang smiled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Bi Lv hesitated, then finally voiced the question she had been holding back. “Are you going to the Dark Realm?”

In the minds of Heavenly Realm people, the Dark Realm had always represented everything dark and fallen — a place synonymous with irredeemable evil and corruption. Even though Bi Lv was willing to believe the Tairen Queen to a degree, she couldn’t fully accept the claim that the Dark Realm had cleansed itself and restored its morality. In her mind, the Dark Realm might have some good people like the Tairen King — but the majority were still fallen warriors, unrepentant savages who would never change.

Lieyan held the same view.

If not for everything she had witnessed in the Sky-Reaching Tower completely dismantling the assumptions she had once held as unquestionable truths, her old idealistic heart might have risen in reflexive resistance.

Yueyang wasn’t in the least surprised by their thinking. His own perspective was completely neutral. No one actually knew what had happened in the Dark Realm. Whatever it had become — nothing would be strange. Except for a divine being with absolute will, ordinary people’s convictions were actually quite fragile — shaped by their environment, changed by their circumstances. Under the right conditions, fallen warriors exiled to the Dark Realm recovering their moral sense wasn’t strange at all. And beyond that, not everyone exiled to the Dark Realm had been a bad person to begin with. In ancient times perhaps — but once the Central Divine Temple took control of the exile process, anyone sent there was their enemy by definition, and that hardly made them villains.

Without investigation, Yueyang wouldn’t pass judgment on the Dark Realm.

At least not yet.

The ten thousand Dark Realm warriors Yueyang had seen with his own eyes were not thoroughly evil people. They were pieces on a board — people who couldn’t struggle free no matter how hard they tried.

“I do want to go and see the Dark Realm eventually — but the plan doesn’t change.” Yueyang picked up a portrait from the table and smiled. “Before that, we deal with this one.”

The portrait showed a powerfully built man with crimson hair, blood-red eyes, and a body wrapped in iron-hard muscle — an expression of untamed, violent arrogance carved permanently into his face.

This was Yueyang’s first target. Tantai Tumie’s most capable enforcer — Tiangui.

They were going to kill Tiangui.

The Lieyan Bandit Squad’s luxurious airship departed from Redemption City.

City Lord Qianhu and his wife saw them off in secret, then publicly resumed their role as normal — continuing to maintain their relationship with Elder Yumu, carrying on exactly as before, as though nothing had happened. The cunning Minotaur Lima was released as well. Naturally no fool, Lima had spent his days in the cell running through every possible angle. Now that he was out, he showed absolutely no intention of leaving — instead going out of his way to ingratiate himself with City Lord Qianhu, practically throwing himself at the City Lord’s feet in an apparent show of willingness to atone through service.

Night fell. A day had passed.

Elder Yumu, having learned from the City Lord’s mouth that the luxurious airship had departed, quietly stepped through a teleportation gate. Confirming that no one was following him, he arrived at a hidden location — Stargazing Harbor.

Stargazing Harbor was not, in fact, a harbor. It had no water. It was a large sky island floating in midair.

The name came from its function: a designated Central Divine Temple combat base for external operations, where all Central Divine Temple personnel deployed to Tairen Continent and the vast surrounding region could billet. Even at ordinary times there were dozens of warships docked here — and now, with the Tairen King’s execution drawing forces from across the region, tens of thousands of combat personnel had arrived.

More than two hundred luxurious airships and combat warships were currently berthed at Stargazing Harbor, packed densely across the sky docks.

Elder Yumu passed through the rigorously guarded sky docks, underwent multiple identity checks, and finally walked into the brightly lit Stargazing Fortress.

“You’re back. What news?” In the main seat at the center of the Fortress’s great hall sat a ferocious man with crimson hair and blood-red eyes. Even seated, his frame was considerably larger than the standing Yumu. His presence was one of barely leashed savagery — like a wild lion that might tear into anyone at any moment. The face was all hard muscle, as rigid as stone, and bisected by a vicious scar that ran from the bridge of his nose across both cheeks, adding another layer of brutal, blood-soaked ferocity.

“My lord, the airship departed suddenly. I was unable to determine their true intentions, and so I came to report.” Elder Yumu delivered this without expression.

“Fortress Commander Tiejian. Nanpei. What are your thoughts?” The crimson-haired, blood-eyed man didn’t speak immediately — he looked instead to the figures seated on either side.

“If a divine being truly descended, there are certainly secrets beneath the Divine Punishment Platform that we haven’t yet been able to assess. The airship departing, in this Fortress Commander’s view, is not the end of this matter — it’s a signal that action is about to be taken. No great family from the Upper Heavenly Realm, nor any entity of even higher standing, would openly declare war on our Central Divine Temple. If they intend to interfere, they will do so while avoiding open suspicion — operating in the shadows.” The one who spoke was a middle-aged man in heavy golden armor, with the look of someone long accustomed to authority.

He was not as ferocious as the crimson-haired man, but he had his own undeniable commanding presence — felt whether he was seated or speaking, a wordless pressure that pressed down on everyone below him.

This was Tiejian — the Central Divine Temple’s deployed general stationed at Stargazing Harbor, and Commander of Stargazing Fortress.

Seated across from Fortress Commander Tiejian was an elderly man whose face wore an expression of refined, unhurried elegance — a smile that never quite left his lips. Most of his hair was still black, only the temples touched with white, which made him look not old but maturely wise. He held a folding fan, projecting the air of a strategist who commanded the realm without leaving his seat, positioned slightly below the main seat, his smile carrying the quiet confidence of someone who already knew how everything would unfold.

That smile was both elegant and composed — the ease of someone entirely without urgency.

When the crimson-haired man turned to look at him, the elderly strategist rose unhurriedly, offered a measured bow to the figure above, and spoke in a voice that was clear, deep, and thoroughly magnetic: “My lord — Nanpei believes that the airship’s departure is actually a good thing.”

The answer was unexpected. Even the crimson-haired man paused slightly. “Explain.”

The elderly strategist snapped his folding fan open with a flourish — a gesture of effortless ease.

He stroked his beard with one hand, appearing to organize his thoughts.

After a long moment, he smiled. “My lord, Nanpei surmises that this may be a warning signal. If we make no further moves in response, the other party will take direct action. Even if this is one of the great families of the Upper Heavenly Realm, or even a true divine being from beyond the heavens — neither would act immediately. In any situation, events unfold within a framework of rules. The higher one’s station, the more carefully one observes those rules — even when one is the author of them.”

Yumu countered: “Their warning has been issued. How should we respond?”

The elderly strategist closed his fan and gave it a light wave — a gesture that said: patience. “This matter should be reported to the Warden. Their warning is only a signal — they know that we are not the decision-makers here, and they wish to communicate with the Warden. Otherwise, why drive the airship away from the Divine Punishment Platform? They could simply have come to our door.”

Fortress Commander Tiejian suddenly rose to his feet. “Whatever intentions they hold, we should inform the Warden with all possible speed. After all, there is a divine mandate behind this.”

Yumu agreed inwardly and turned to look at the crimson-haired, blood-eyed man.

One word from him, and Yumu would carry the message to the Warden at the fastest speed of his life.

But the crimson-haired man remained silent, his eyes still on the elderly strategist — as though he wished to hear more of what his subordinate had to say.

The elderly strategist who had identified himself as Nanpei suddenly let out an easy laugh. “No need to rush, no need to rush. The airship leaving — in a city the size of Redemption City, we are certainly not the only ones who know. The Tairen Queen, or various other minor players lurking in the shadows, will absolutely seize this moment to cause trouble — invoking the name of a divine being to muddy the waters and profit from the confusion. So what we need to do now is not only send word to the Warden, but also prepare ourselves to welcome our guests.”

“Guests?” Elder Yumu’s body gave an almost imperceptible tremor at the word — though his face remained completely blank, as though anger were an emotion that had been removed from him entirely.

“This Fortress Commander will go out personally to receive them.” Fortress Commander Tiejian had barely risen when a series of explosions rang out from outside.

A look of genuine admiration flashed across his face. He turned to the elderly strategist with a slight bow. “True to your reputation, Mister Nanpei — the world’s affairs laid out before you before they unfold, always a step ahead of everyone else. Tiejian is impressed. What would you recommend as our next move?”

The elderly strategist returned the bow and stroked his beard with a smile. “The Fortress Commander’s preparations are airtight — made well in advance of events, with such meticulous care that it is Nanpei who is impressed. I believe our guests will not all be arriving at once — better to wait here at our ease for them to gather. Once they’ve all arrived and made themselves at home uninvited, we can set the table and welcome them properly.” He let out a warm, unhurried laugh.

Fortress Commander Tiejian looked at the crimson-haired, blood-eyed man, who remained seated without moving — and something suddenly clicked. “So Lord Tiangui had already made preparations long in advance. Tiejian is humbled.”

The crimson-haired man waved a hand. “Fortress Commander, please sit. When distinguished guests come calling, what is the harm in waiting a while?”

Ten minutes later.

The sounds of explosions and large-scale combat continued outside — though considerably diminished from their peak. Many areas had apparently lost their capacity to resist.

Another ten minutes passed. Except within the Stargazing Fortress itself, the noise from all surrounding areas had gone completely silent — as though every fight had been snuffed out at once, leaving only the sporadic crackle of fires consuming buildings and the occasional secondary explosion drifting in. The crimson-haired man drank his blood wine without any reaction, as though he were entirely unaware of what was happening outside. Elder Yumu stood rigidly in the middle of the hall — neither sitting nor eating nor drinking, his frozen face utterly devoid of expression. Fortress Commander Tiejian sat equally still, staring into the blood wine in his cup as though flames were burning behind his eyes.

The elderly strategist’s smile never left his lips. He fanned himself in unhurried, leisurely strokes.

At last, the great doors of Stargazing Fortress swung open.

A wave of warm air carrying the smell of battle-fire and gunpowder rolled in — and then a figure strode through with large, confident steps, laughter ringing out before he had even fully entered, filling the entire hall: “Lord Tiangui, well met! Fortress Commander Tiejian, Elder Yumu, Mister Nanpei — the Lion Heart King pays his respects.”

“Is the Lion Heart King one of our guests as well?” Strategist Nanpei asked with an amused smile.

“Guests come in many varieties. The Lion Heart King is the kind who watches quietly and would never put his host in a difficult position — at any time.” The Lion Heart King, blazing with fierce energy, let out a broad laugh.

“The Lion Heart King is an excellent guest. But the ones behind him may not be so easy to deal with.” Fortress Commander Tiejian snapped to his feet and looked past the Lion Heart King — where several more shadows had appeared at the door.

“We are the opposite of the Lion Heart King,” came a young man’s voice. He wore a strange mask, and walked in with large, unhurried strides, flanked by a female giant and two supremely beautiful women. The way he carried himself — head high, stride unhurried — looked nothing like a guest’s entrance. It felt more like a man returning home and strolling through his own courtyard, completely at ease, radiating the kind of calm that came from someone who had already decided this place was his.