Even with Wanling, a Zenith of Law Realm, holding the flank like a steady mountain, Holy Voice still couldn’t seize real advantage.

In truth, without Wanling, she—only at the Law Realm’s first rung—would’ve been swept under like a reed in flood.

Same for Xinyin and Celia Maya; without Wansheng’s aid, defeat was a dusk creeping in.

The two undead facing Holy Voice carried high-tier Law Realm might and battle craft honed since antiquity, like scars carved into stone.

Even mindless, running on raw instinct, they dwarfed Holy Voice’s present grasp, a storm against a candle.

Her faint edge existed because Wanling held them in check like iron chains.

She had piles of Supreme Divine Elixir behind her, no fear of draining dry.

And the Allsaints Spirit Staff upshifted her spells by a whole tier, a bell struck brighter.

Overall, Holy Voice held little edge; she wanted a quick, clean win but got dragged into attrition.

Worst of all, the undead here healed like weeds after rain; once it’s attrition, trouble multiplies.

Frustration spiked first, hot and tight in her chest. “Wanling, we’ve got the edge on paper, so why can’t we pin them down even for a moment?”

Her full-force spell only nicked one undead, a shallow cut on rotten steel.

Helplessness pressed in; she’d never met a foe this stubborn, like briars that won’t burn.

A note on her foes: one was an armored undead swordsman, a demonic Sword Wielder with a rusted greatsword.

The other was a pure soul undead mage, a Spellcaster woven of cold light, both fearsomely strong.

“Beyond raw power, it’s the Primordial Source saturating this place,” Wanling said, river-calm.

“Faint, yes, but it bends the board against us, like a hidden current.”

“These undead have been tempered in it for years; they’re not just used to it.”

“They ride it to evolve. On the enemy’s home field, our tiny edge dissolves like salt in rain.”

Wanling launched a rule-laced mana bolt, blasting the undead swordsman back like a rag doll, and kept her tone grave.

Fatigue crept in, a sand weight in her limbs. “So what do we do? We can’t just grind with them forever, can we?”

Since the first clash, she’d burned through several bottles of Supreme Divine Elixir.

As she spoke, the undead swordsman surged again under the mage’s cover, a hawk diving through smoke.

His rust-scarred greatsword flared with brutal mana; the air congealed, and the ground shuddered.

Together they cracked Wanling’s sealing spell like ice under heel.

The swordsman leapt high and cleaved straight for Holy Voice, a falling guillotine.

“Damn it! So annoying!”

She couldn’t slip away; panic bit, then resolve cooled like steel.

Wanling was tangled by the undead mage again.

Holy Voice bit down and poured all her mana into the Allsaints Spirit Staff.

She’d entered the Law Realm only recently; her grasp of its rules was raw.

So she chose to meet force with force, antlers locked.

“Sealed Moon: Nightmare.”

Giant magic circles bloomed overhead, underfoot, all around.

From them surged smoke-wreathed tentacles, coiling to bind the undead swordsman like a net of night.

Yet those seemingly unbreakable limbs shredded like falling leaves beneath his cleaving strikes.

Good news—the sheer number held.

Down to the last dozen, they finally pinned the swordsman in place.

In a blink, every circle morphed into an Ancient Ogre: Nightmare Beast.

Maws yawned wide and, faster than thought, swallowed the swordsman straining against the tentacle cage.

“Huff—this should stall it a minute or two. Wanling, let’s move!”

She fumbled out a Supreme Divine Elixir, drank, and urged haste, exhaustion pooling like lead.

That spell was mid-tier Law Realm, but the Allsaints Spirit Staff ramped it to high-tier—just enough to cage the swordsman.

“If we bolt, Xinyin and Celia Maya get exposed,” Wanling said, steady as a bell.

“Unless these two stay bound long enough for us to help end their fight.”

Compared to Holy Voice, Wanling outclassed the undead mage by far.

Against just one, she could seal it with ease, like snapping a lid shut.

She could kill them, but they regrew fast, mold on damp stone.

Better to confine them and buy time to leave this town of the dead.

“Then let’s hurry to help Xinyin and the others. The other four undead are middling; we can clean them up fast.”

She glanced toward Xinyin and Celia Maya—still locked in stalemate, two kites snagged on one wind.

But since Wansheng joined, their tide turned; the edge was theirs now.

“Fair point…”

Wanling paused, thoughts ticking like beads.

Then she drew out the Supreme Divine Elixir the Emperor had given her and downed it in one breath.

“Hah—no wonder FrostyLily Dream’s brew is famed. This flood of strength feels divine!”

She pocketed the vial and felt her power bloom wider.

Before, she could draw only seventy to eighty percent of her Zenith of Law Realm might.

Now it was one hundred percent, full moon bright.

After all, Wansheng and Wanling needed huge energy just to persist; add battle, and the drain ran like a river.

“Holy Voice, hand me the Allsaints Spirit Staff first.”

Space rippled around them, shivering like thin glass.

Wanling knew the undead mage and swordsman would break free soon—that wouldn’t do.

At her peak now, she could show Holy Voice the staff’s real bite.

“Okay. Here.”

She hesitated zero and passed the Allsaints Spirit Staff over, doubt flickering like a moth in her eyes.

“Wanling, what are you planning?”

“Re-seal those two.” Wanling’s smile was slight and sure.

“And you—watch closely, Holy Voice. Feel the power of the Zenith of Law Realm. It’ll guide your cultivation.”

As her words fell, boundless pressure roared from Wanling’s small frame, mountains collapsing in silence.

In her hands, the Allsaints Spirit Staff blazed with elemental holy light steeped in law.

Mystic sigils swam through the air, fireflies woven into glyphs.

Wonder stirred, then awe. The Allsaints Spirit Staff wasn’t behaving as usual; its pressure eclipsed Wanling herself, a crown heavier than the king.

That ineffable elemental holy light—its embedded law was too deep, mesmerizing and bewildering at once, like uncharted constellations.

This was only the preparation stage, and already the omens shook the heart. What would the casting itself look like?

Anticipation surged in Holy Voice, a tide at full moon; she fixed on Wanling, focus sharp as a needle.

“Eternal Spirit-Seal!”

At that instant, elemental holy light flooded heaven and earth like dawn breaking.

A colossal law-force twisted and clamped the space around them.

To Holy Voice, the whole world seemed to halt, a clock with its hands frozen.

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