Xuanming was completely sealed by that pale-golden talisman, frozen upright like a puppet, his face locked in terror and unwillingness.
The scene hit the Penglai Immortal Palace like the coldest of cold fronts, instantly sweeping through it and turning the slight heaviness that had arisen after Qingmu’s defeat into a bone-chilling, absolute stillness.
The men and women who had been indulging in pleasures had long since collapsed to the ground, their trembling reduced to barely audible shivers; only the pounding of terrified hearts drummed loudly in the silence.
The wine pools no longer rippled, the carnal thickets ceased to sway, and even the lascivious immortal music had been cut off — as if the whole palace were mourning the consecutive losses of two “immortals.”
The peerless beauty — she called herself Houtu — now had not a shred of flirtation left in her pair of world-toppling eyes.
Only a surging storm of shock remained, and a chill she herself refused to admit.
Qingmu’s defeat could be explained as carelessness, an unfavorable elemental matchup.
But Xuanming? His nearly immortal water-element body, his infinitely changing and uncanny Dao arts — all had been completely suppressed by this unheard-of soul-sealing technique.
This man called Dustin — what, exactly, were his limits?
What terrifying methods were still hidden inside that seemingly tottering body?
A previously unknown dread, like poisonous vines, quietly wrapped around her heart.
Aokun’s rock-solid indifference finally showed a clear crack.
The muscles in his cheek twitched slightly; from his eyes that looked down upon all living things, an icy killing intent threatened to burst forth into substance.
The string of defeats and losses, especially Xuanming’s fall, were no longer merely matters of face — they threatened the foundation of their small group.
This man must not be left alive!
The pure and unusual power within him, his understanding of the laws, and especially that strange sealing art… it must be obtained, or utterly destroyed!
A suffocating pressure began to emanate from Aokun, far more terrifying than before, as if a slumbering prehistoric beast were waking. The white jade floor of the Immortal Palace trembled faintly, emitting mournful groans under the strain.
He slowly raised his hand; dark-golden light began to gather at his fingertips, the scent of destruction brewing.
“Big brother!”
Just as Aokun was about to make his move, Houtu suddenly spoke.
Her voice was no longer soft — it carried gravity and resolution.
She stepped forward and stood before Aokun, her gaze locked onto Dustin below, leaning on his sword and panting, seemingly at the very end of his strength.
“This fellow has fought repeatedly and his true essence is exhausted; he’s at his last breath. If Big Brother personally strikes, it’ll be to overpraise him and make us appear to have no capable people left.”
Houtu’s voice contained a forced calm: “Let your little sister go meet him. I want to see how many nails this broken boat of his still has to burn! It’ll also let him know that my name, ‘Houtu,’ is not an empty title!”
Her words were a mix of preserving Aokun’s authority and a hint of her own motives.
If Dustin had just defeated Qingmu and Xuanming, and she could take him down now, she could not only reverse their misfortunes but also display her prowess and solidify her standing within the small circle.
Besides, she didn’t believe a man at his last gasp could still make much of a splash.
Her powerful earth-based Dao arts were most adept at overwhelming by force — perfect for dealing with someone utterly exhausted.
Aokun’s movement stalled slightly. His cold gaze swept Houtu and saw the resolve in her eyes and the barely perceptible competitive spark.
He pondered for a moment; the terrible pressure around him receded a little, the gathered dark-golden light dissipated — tacit consent.
He, too, wanted to see whether Dustin could still produce miracles under Houtu’s heavy, overwhelming earth techniques.
Given that consent, Houtu was certain.
She drew a deep breath, tamped down her dread of that strange sealing art, and let that world-toppling smile return to her face — though behind that smile lay an icebound murder intent.
She glided forward a few steps, looking down at Dustin from above. Her voice remained bewitching, but carried the oppressive feeling of a coming storm:
“Young brother, you really are talented — you even wounded two of my elder brothers. But the game ends here. I don’t much like fighting and killing, but if someone is unwise, then I’ll just… let him sleep forever beneath this Houtu.”
Before her words finished, she lightly stamped her jade-clad foot on the white-jade floor.
“Woom—!”
The entire Penglai Immortal Palace shook violently.
This was not an energy shock like before, but a deep resonance rising from the earth itself!
From the point of her toe, a visible concentric ripple of earth-colored waves spread out like water.
Where the ripples passed, the once-hard, spirit-laden white-jade floor rolled and heaved like soft sand.
Countless sharp stalagmites and massive rock walls tore upwards from the ground, as if endowed with life, pressing and piercing toward Dustin from all directions.
The whole battlefield instantly transformed into a frenzied growth of converging rock thickets.
A gravity-field as heavy as a mountain suddenly descended upon Dustin, intended to completely crush and pulverize him.
The moment Houtu struck, it was a massive-area, offense-and-defense unified upheaval of earth veins — pure force meant to overwhelm! - Marinien
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