“You really think a little trick like that can pin me down?”

The Law of [Ruin] began corroding the buffer zone Xiang Ling had carved out with the Law of Space. They were both gods, but Xiang Ling had only just stepped into that realm; her grasp of laws couldn’t compare to Anastasia’s. In no time, her space barrier was shattered to dust.

But beating the Beast God with old martial arts had never been her goal.

For anyone who’d broken through into The Realm, even if they could freely control every law within their domain, their strongest trump card was still that one law they’d understood most deeply back when they were at Holy Rank. That was true even for those who’d ultimately become gods.

One. Only one.

And Xiang Ling wasn’t a god who’d climbed her way up step by bloody step. Her godhood, that unique “divinity” of a god—or rather, her immortal spirit—came from the outside.

So aside from that overbearing Great Dao of Domination, she still had another card to play.

“The moon turns… yin and yang… give birth!”

Minglin’s Dao of [Yin and Yang], a Great Dao that deconstructed everything by seeing all things under heaven as born from yin and yang, had once split half the land of Morninglight into pure yin and pure yang, making it dissolve completely back into heaven and earth. That terrifying feat had just been one expression of its power.

If qi could be split into yin and yang, then yin and yang could naturally give birth to things.

The dark night sky, its stars and moonlight already smothered by the thunderclouds Sadie had called in earlier, was thick with clouds now. Yin qi crushed yang qi completely, pouring into Xiang Ling’s palm and condensing into a vivid, lifelike creation.

A boundless sea of weak water, and she scooped just one ladle. But that one ladle was enough.

“Dragon of Weak Water!”

Ink‑black darkness roared into the shape of a furious dragon. It burst out of her palm and swallowed Anastasia in an instant, then tore open the clouds at the sky’s pinnacle like a real flood dragon and shot straight into the heavens.

Whether it was because Xiang Ling had drained all the surrounding space of yin qi, or simply because the clouds parted to reveal the moon, the clear moonlight that spilled onto the land was startlingly bright.

“Phew… thought I was dead for sure.”

At the edge of the battlefield where gods were clashing, Her Highness the Princess dragged the unconscious dragonkin—knocked out cold by a few of Xiang Ling’s punches—into a relatively safe zone. She sat down, watching the distant impacts, and couldn’t help letting out a long breath.

Damn, she’d actually almost rushed in to help just now. With a punch like Anastasia’s—if that had landed on her—she might not die on the spot, but she’d definitely lose all ability to fight back.

If Aya were here and the two of them teamed up… actually, that was wishful thinking. Holy Rank laws couldn’t even function properly once they were swallowed into a Godrealm. With just a “secret manual” of built‑in commands, she could stomp normal players, but picking a fight with an admin? Still way out of her league.

“General Ling, you’re on your own…”

Tiran reached out and poked the unconscious Sadie beside her. All she could do was hope Xiang Ling put up a good fight.

Come to think of it, that Orc god didn’t seem angry because the dragonkin girl at her side got hurt. From what she’d said earlier, it felt more like she’d seized that as an excuse to have a brawl with Xiang Ling.

The aftermath of a clash between two gods was enough to cause mountains to crumble and the earth to split, yet for the two of them, the fight didn’t look like it had reached a life‑or‑death level.

It was the armies who’d been fighting earlier that were having the worst time.

Sensing things going south, both sides had tacitly begun to retreat at the same time. But the human army’s marching speed simply couldn’t get them clear before the shockwaves washed over them.

All Tiran could see was invisible impacts rippling out in waves, warping light and twisting the scene in all directions. The ground cracked open, billowing dust blotted out the sky, and the smell of fresh blood seeped through the haze.

Once gods stepped onto the field, the war was over for humans. The only thing that mattered now was surviving.

Even at this distance, watching the battle in the sky, Tiran couldn’t see it clearly. She didn’t even dare get closer. She could only guess that Xiang Ling was still holding her own for now.

What else could she do right now?

“Aya, where are you?”

“Almost there. What’s going on over there? The clouds way over my head are getting blown around.”

Aya kept pouring magic into wind spells, forcing her way through sudden, violent air currents. Sweat prickled on her back. She’d already been flying hard for quite a while, but by her rough estimate she was still nearly a hundred kilometers from the Kent Mountains. Just what level of power did it take for shockwaves to spread this far and still be this strong?

“We hit a bit of a snag… Xiang Ling’s fighting the Orc god.”

“Oh… huh?” Aya blinked, then couldn’t help glancing back at Hazel.

No way. That crow‑mouth actually called it?

“Wait, you’re saying there are two gods fighting on Kent Mountain right now?”

“Yup.”

“Then what are you still doing there? Get the hell out!”

“She helped us before. Aren’t you being a bit heartless, Aya?” Tiran clicked her tongue, sounding exactly like some old writer lamenting the coldness of the world.

“It’s not about that. We can’t even help.” Aya sighed. “We’re just spectators who haven’t even reached The Realm. One slip and we’re dead.”

“…I know.”

Tiran’s voice suddenly calmed. “It’s just… something feels off. There are things I want to figure out.”

“What things?”

“Anyway, you hurry over first. If it’s just shockwaves, the two of us together should be fine.”

The princess cut the communication, keeping an eye on the sky as she bent down and patted Sadie’s cheeks, trying to wake her up.

It didn’t work.

“So I really do need… special measures?”

Tiran thought for a moment, then reached for the dragon girl’s collar.

“Hey, hey, hey, what do you think you’re doing?!”

Aya’s voice exploded in her head again.

“Tch, contracts are such a pain…”

“Don’t give me that. Don’t you dare try anything weird! Seriously, what are you trying to do?”

“Just trying to wake her up, that’s all.” Tiran sighed. Looked like dropping ice down her shirt was off the table. She could only go with a backup plan.

She channeled a small amount of frosty Chi into her right hand, condensing it into a slender crystal of ice about as thick as a finger. Then she gently pressed it to the girl’s neck.

Dragonkin were demi‑humans, but their Dragon blood meant they shared some traits with reptiles—like being very sensitive to temperature. The moment the ice touched her skin, the girl’s body trembled.

“Mm…” Her red lips parted slightly, letting out a soft moan.

Hey, it actually worked. Dragons probably had a strong reaction to temperature changes too, right? Did that mean she and Aya could try some new things later… cough, cough!

“I told you I can hear you!”

If Aya had her humanoid body right now, Tiran would probably be looking at a flustered dragon maid. Their hearts were linked, after all; Aya could pick up every bit of her scheming.

And somehow… he kind of looked forward to it…

On the ground, the unconscious dragon girl slowly opened her eyes. Her golden pupils were still unfocused, full of confusion and daze.

“Tiran Elysian?”

Quick on the uptake, at least.

Seeing the girl’s right hand already groping for her blade, Tiran hurriedly snatched up the broken hilt Sadie was still clutching tightly—shattered earlier by Xiang Ling—and flung it away.

“Calm down first! Here’s the situation: your god’s already taken the field and is fighting the one who beat you up. We’re literally standing in the middle of a god‑tier brawl, so even if someone told you to kill me, put it off, alright?”

She made a T‑shaped timeout gesture as she rattled the whole explanation off in one breath.

“Lady Anastas?” Sadie froze, then looked up toward the sky.

Even though it was hard to make out the figures of the two gods in the night, as the Beast God’s chosen, she could clearly feel the overwhelming presence of the Orc goddess from that direction.

“Oh, ‘Anastas’ rolls off the tongue a lot better than the full name.”

Tiran nodded.

“No one but her chosen is allowed to address Lady Anastasia like that,” Sadie snapped, glaring at her.

“Got it, got it.” The princess said the words, but felt zero guilt. Come on, she’d once sprayed the Goddess of the Light in the face with coffee. If that didn’t earn her the right to a nickname…

Of course, that was something she’d better not say out loud, or this dragon girl might flip the table on the spot.

“How’re your injuries? You were out cold just now, so I didn’t dare move too fast with you. If you can walk, we really should put some distance between us and this place before we keep talking.”

“I can move.”

Sadie flexed her limbs a little. Xiang Ling had given her a solid beating, but she clearly hadn’t tried to kill her. The injuries were serious, but with a dragonkin’s body and regeneration, she could still move.

…

Xiang Ling’s focus was locked completely on the Dragon of Weak Water she’d released. The flood dragon made of pure yin qi just kept flying upward after swallowing Anastasia, refusing to explode.

“So that didn’t work either, huh?”

She’d completely lost control over that mass of yin qi. Xiang Ling took a deep breath, pushing her guard to maximum.

Like a line erased off paper, the ink‑black dragon suddenly vanished once it reached ten thousand meters up. The Orc goddess it had swallowed, caught off guard, relaxed her fist that destroyed all things and rode the dragon’s upward momentum a bit further before stopping.

“Not bad. That move was pretty interesting.”

She suddenly grinned, laughing in open delight as she looked down at Xiang Ling.

“This is what power worthy of a god should look like. I guess it’s about time I got serious too.”

With that sentence, the world behind and beneath her shifted.

Everyone still on the battlefield—Xiang Ling included—saw a spectacle that could only be called a miracle.

The star‑studded night sky thinned and faded, replaced by a colossal arena spanning the galaxy, towering above the cloud layers.

The [Deathtooth Arena]?

Tiran suddenly recalled what Aya had said back when they were being chased by little Fei: those “god domains.”

This was a true Godrealm—a conceptual construct forged from the faith of an entire race.