The Solar King.

He stood before the golden palace in perfect stillness — the kind of stillness that belonged to a man who had made an appointment and intended to keep it, whether or not the other party showed up.

Ming Rihao sat on the palace steps, hands resting on his knees, head bowed low.

Between them, only the golden shell.

The light around Ming Rihao had gone dim — the particular dimness of a lamp running out of oil. Strangely, his body showed no visible wounds.

A short distance down the steps, someone else lay motionless — peaceful as a sleeping figure in a painting. The Freedom Queen, who had entered the Divine Codex earlier. A faint crimson fingerprint marked her forehead. Nothing else seemed outwardly wrong. Yet her body was slowly dissolving, as though something within this space — something distinct from its cleansing Law-force — was consuming her without sound or announcement.

Yue Yang drifted in from somewhere deep in the Divine Codex space.

He had seen the state of Ming Rihao and the Freedom Queen from a distance. He didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down, either — if anything, he came in a little faster, descending to land beside the Solar King.

“You came,” the Solar King said, in the tone of a man greeting a long-absent friend rather than his most dangerous enemy.

“Apologies — traffic was terrible. I’m a little late.” Yue Yang sounded genuinely contrite.

“No matter. The fact that you came at all is something. In your position, I’m not sure I would have had the courage to return here.” The Solar King regarded him with something that was equal parts appreciation and regret. “If you weren’t this exceptional — if you didn’t have this kind of nerve — if you weren’t Sky Tower’s new Prison Emperor — I would genuinely want to be your friend. In the celestial realm, enemies are plentiful and friends are rare. It’s a shame to have to destroy someone worth knowing. I’m not a sentimental person by nature, but I’ll admit there’s a small trace of regret in this. Perhaps that’s what fate is.”

“Fate doesn’t reveal itself until the very end,” Yue Yang laughed, shaking his head. “We have a saying: Fortune is fickle; those who rise must fall. Some people look like the sun at its height — unstoppable, blazing, impossible to challenge — and turn out to be exactly the ones fate discards. You never know until it’s over.”

“A being with power approaching the divine,” the Solar King said, smiling slightly. “How do you think that ends? Discarded, or victorious?”

“Even the divine fall eventually.” Yue Yang didn’t soften it.

“Then try.” The Solar King’s smile deepened, and so did what was underneath it.

“Old Hao.” Yue Yang turned his head and called toward the golden shell. “You’re not dead yet, are you?”

“Getting there—” Ming Rihao’s answer came out strangled in coughing. Blood flew from his mouth and nose, scattering across the white jade steps — and vanished immediately, cleaned away by the Divine Codex’s Law-force without a trace.

“I thought your abilities were just a little lacking.” Yue Yang shook his head. “I didn’t realize your judgment was also an issue. I told you to lead the Solar King in here and then run — and instead you picked a fight with him. Old Hao. That’s not how bravado works. If you could handle the Solar King, what was I running from? I might as well have stayed and watched the performance.”

“Damn it, I had reasons for what I did—” Ming Rihao’s temper flared despite everything, but he couldn’t even straighten his back now. He looked uninjured on the surface, but his interior was clearly devastated.

“Solar King.” Yue Yang turned back. “That was a little ungracious of you, wasn’t it?”

“In what sense?” The Solar King looked politely puzzled.

“A man at your level — the master of the Sun God Palace — dropping to gang up on Ming Rihao? That’s beneath you. You might as well be a street corner thug. I’d rescind the title Solar King and go with something more appropriate.”

“Calling it a gang fight is a slight exaggeration.” The Solar King’s tone remained unruffled. “It was two against two. Ming Rihao and the Freedom Queen against myself and the Water Palace Master. Equal numbers, equal terms. I even extended the courtesy of letting the lady strike first, out of respect. In the history of warfare, how many fighters maintain that kind of composure? I rather doubt even young lord Titan would manage it.”

“Young lord Titan certainly couldn’t match the Solar King in that regard,” said a slow, aged voice from somewhere behind Yue Yang. It had the quality of a corroded gear turning — something ancient grinding against itself, producing a sound with no easy name. “Based on the intelligence this humble Master has accumulated: whether in Sky Tower or the celestial realm, young lord Titan’s conduct can be summarized in one sentence. Despicable is merely his nickname. Shameless is his true name. Compared to young lord Titan’s methods, this old man is practically a paragon of virtue.”

A bald old man, his scalp smooth and gleaming, a beard of snow-white hanging to his chest. He had appeared at Yue Yang’s back.

He leaned on a carved dragon-head staff of purple-gold sandalwood, wearing a wide-sleeved robe in deep purple-black, gold trim at the collar, a few silver cloud patterns at the cuffs and hem.

Beyond the baldness and the beard, the most distinctive thing about him was his eyes.

Blue. Deep as open water.

Even Yue Yang, looking at those eyes, felt a reluctant admiration stir somewhere.

Only an accumulation of extraordinary length — centuries, millennia — could produce eyes like that. He had met many remarkable people: Sky Tower, the Southern Celestial Realm, the Western Celestial Realm. A long list. But there was only one person he could honestly say compared to this old man in terms of that quality.

Elder Nangong.

Only the Elder — who read until the moment he fell asleep and resumed reading upon waking — could hold a candle to those eyes. That depth of wisdom wasn’t something you argued with or analyzed. You looked at those eyes and simply knew. Even an ordinary person could see it.

The Black Vine Grandmother, the Old Fox, the Mirror Lake Sage who had instructed Yue Yu — all of them sages in their own right, each carrying vast knowledge. But set beside this old man, they would fall slightly short.

“The new Water Palace Master?” Yue Yang’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected this appearance. He hadn’t expected this man to be here.

“Not the new Water Palace Master — simply the Water Palace Master.” The old man’s smile was warm, the smile of a patient and accommodating elder. “I have held this position for several thousand years. During that time I’ve made modest contributions both to the region and to the Divine Hall. To still be called new after all that would reflect rather poorly on my professional diligence. Young lord Titan may have only recently heard of this old man, but I have long had full knowledge of you — and have been quite interested. Before today, I often wondered: what kind of young person could kill the Nine-Radiance Empress? She was the most credible challenger to the major powers of the Western Celestial Realm. Even the Solar King couldn’t guarantee an easy victory against her. And yet you not only killed her — you wiped out her entire clan. This old man is genuinely impressed. Juniors are to be held in awe. That saying has never been more apt.”

“If I’m so awe-inspiring,” Yue Yang said, “why are you here to cause trouble?”

“Yingluo — the young woman you know as the Freedom Queen — is my granddaughter’s granddaughter. A source of considerable family embarrassment, I’m afraid.” The old man stroked his beard at a leisurely pace. “To restore the family’s standing, this old set of bones had no choice but to make the journey. My goals and the Solar King’s are different — he pursues the Divine Codex, which is an ambition worthy of someone who will one day be the pillar of the Divine Hall. I have fewer years left and less energy to spare. Holding onto the small estate of Tianhua Domain is enough for me.” A pause. “If I have one small personal interest beyond that — it would be eliminating Sky Tower and the Ming Clan entirely. You young people grow too quickly. You’re crowding out those of us who need somewhere to stand.”

“I’ve met plenty of disagreeable old men,” Yue Yang said. “But ones this infuriating are rarer.”

Talented without virtue. That was what the Water Palace Master was. A fool with no ability was harmless regardless of their character — they couldn’t cause damage at scale. But a man of deep ability and malicious intent was a different category of problem entirely.

There was no point talking to someone like this.

The correct response was to hit him. Hit him until he was crying for mercy. Hit him until he was scattered across the floor wondering what happened. That was the appropriate answer.

Yue Yang rolled up his sleeve, irritated. Age was no protection here. Certain people simply needed hitting, and sorting them by year of birth before deciding whether to act was a waste of everyone’s time.

“Ha. It appears young lord Titan intends to take on both of us.” The Water Palace Master glanced at Ming Rihao inside the golden shell, then smiled with complete confidence. “I won’t deny that your abilities are extraordinary. Someone who could kill the Nine-Radiance Empress cannot be dismissed by anyone. But I have spent several thousand years in the Tianhua Domain gathering every piece of intelligence available, and I have been waiting for precisely this moment. In this place — in this Divine Codex space — you might be able to defeat the Nine-Radiance Empress. You might even be able to defeat a major power of the celestial realm. But you cannot defeat me. That I can say with certainty.”

“Is that so?” Yue Yang’s voice went flat.

“What Ming Rihao is now — that is what you will be in the next moment.” The Water Palace Master tapped his dragon-head staff once against the ground, his confidence absolute.

“With Cang taking the lead,” the Solar King said, “I’ll hold back and cover as I did a moment ago.” He seemed to have genuine faith in the Water Palace Master. Despite all his own careful, meticulous attention toward Yue Yang — watching him every second, allowing no lapse — he was willing in this moment to step aside and let the old man lead.

Yue Yang’s eyes went cold.

He vanished.

When he reappeared, he was directly above the Water Palace Master’s head.

In his hands: the enormous horse-cutter blade he had taken from Lipan, the Nine-Radiance Clan’s self-proclaimed supreme warrior. A heavy Platinum-rank weapon — and combined with Yue Yang’s full-power One Strike That Cleaves the Mountains, the result was something beyond easy description. An attack with actual world-ending potential.

Blade energy detonated into the air. The shape of it, hanging against the sky, resembled a heavenly dragon swallowing the sun.

Even here, inside the Law-protected Divine Codex space, Yue Yang’s destructive output made everything tremble. The golden shell shuddered as though on the verge of cracking. The floor of this space — harder than diamond — split open in a deep fissure before the blade had even finished its descent, the strike-energy alone carving through it.

Not a mountain — the entire space — would have been cleaved in two by this.

Unstoppable. Absolute.

The strike came down.

The Water Palace Master didn’t move.

Didn’t brace. Didn’t shift his stance. Didn’t raise a defensive barrier. He simply stood there while the blade came screaming toward the top of his head, until it was a single centimeter away — and then, at absolute leisure, raised his left hand.

The other hand kept the staff planted. His body didn’t shift by so much as a breath.

He caught Yue Yang’s full-powered, world-ending strike with the palm of his bare hand.

“Die,” Yue Yang said through his teeth. Even a body made of solid steel —

“Laughable.” The Water Palace Master’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t make a second gesture. He didn’t need to. What he’d already done was enough: the Platinum-rank blade that could cleave mountains and topple the sky hit his palm —

And dissolved.

Like smoke dispersing. Like mist in sunlight. It was there, and then it was simply not — the entire weapon unraveling into nothing, until what remained in Yue Yang’s grip was a bare, clean handle. No blade. No trace of one.

A Platinum-rank weapon.

Gone.

What kind of ability is that?

Inside the Divine Codex space, summoning was supposed to be impossible. How —

Yue Yang stared at the handle in his hand, genuinely thrown for the first time in a long while.

What in the — this old man’s ability was genuinely bizarre.