Time resumed its flow.

Li Bai’s smile twisted into madness. Greed deepened in Hong Yimei’s eyes—just as Li Bai saw only Hua Zhaoxue, her form tattered like scattered fluff. Hong Yimei hadn’t spared Li Bai a single glance. Before this youth, everything felt infinitesimal… A veteran of countless years, she had never beheld a boy of such ethereal beauty and aura.

Lost in awe, she even ignored Li Bai’s frantic muttering…

Wait…

Hong Yimei’s greedy gaze snapped back. Something was wrong with the space around her.

No sound…?

Where had all sound vanished…?

She was a master cultivator—a Battle Seer who honed her very physique as core strength! Even fixated on this otherworldly youth, she shouldn’t have missed *every* sound…

At that moment, Tian You’s violet eyes—shimmering like the Milky Way—slowly closed. His slender frame toppled backward, as if support had vanished.

Just before he struck the ground, an invisible force cradled him, guiding him upright with seamless grace.

The instant Tian You stood firm, a suffocating stench of blood flooded the air. The forest warped into a mountain of bleached bones. Crimson rivers gushed from its peak, pooling into a raging bloodstream below.

Killing intent… thick enough to touch, erupted from the eerily beautiful youth. When his eyes reopened, scarlet ripples swirled within violet irises—icy, blood-chilling light that froze the soul.

The forest trembled. Every creature fled in primal terror, instinctively escaping the Asura who seemed summoned from the deepest abyss of the netherworld.

Those violet-red eyes flicked toward Li Bai.

*Boom—*

A dull thud. Li Bai’s body—still locked in maniacal rapture—exploded into crimson mist. Before it could drift toward Hua Zhaoxue, it vanished into nothingness.

Hong Yimei stood frozen. Not by will—but pinned body and soul by killing intent so terrifying it defied description. She couldn’t move. Didn’t dare.

Her mind had gone blank. Even her zhanmadao, usually humming with murderous aura, now whimpered under the pressure.

That face—once breathtaking enough to shame heaven and earth—now brought only soul-shaking dread. When those crimson-tinged violet eyes met hers, her spirit plummeted into eternal damnation.

“P-please… spare… me…” Her voice rasped, choked by phantom claws. She didn’t even recognize her own words. Her cultivation? Utterly sealed. This wasn’t a gap in power—it was a chasm between dimensions.

All she wanted was to flee.

This youth of world-shaking beauty was no angel… but an Asura risen from the netherworld’s deepest hell.

*One step—*

His white robe billowed in the tangible killing intent. He ascended a staircase of bleached bones, cold and emotionless, moving with deliberate grace.

Blood-soaked earth. Bone-peaked mountains. A sky stained crimson. A youth in pristine white…

Eerie beauty.

A perfect artwork—blooming amidst slaughter.

Hong Yimei was a renowned Battle Seer, her will unshakable. Yet now, she could only plead with eyes wide—like an ant beneath a boot.

*Two steps—*

Tormented souls erupted behind him—wild-haired, cackling skyward as they surged toward her. In despair, Hong Yimei gathered her last strength to self-destruct. She knew: ensnared by these souls, death would be mercy.

But every soul behind him had once ruled realms as supreme overlords. Before she could act, her soul locked solid. Eyes wide with explosive despair, she watched the horde close in.

*Three steps—*

“NOOOOOOOO!”

A final scream.

Then—silence.

The souls vanished. The space stilled.

Two presences erased. Without trace.

Not once had the youth glanced at Hong Yimei. To him, erasing them was simpler than crushing an ant.

He approached the unconscious Hua Zhaoxue. The killing intent had vanished—but his aura remained distant, cold.

A flick of his snow-white sleeve. Space shimmered beside her. Nie Wangqing’s lifeless form appeared.

Two slender fingers pressed their brows. A soft silver glow bloomed.

Hua Zhaoxue’s torn robes mended. Blade-cut wounds sealed. Her deathly pallor warmed to rosy life.

Nie Wangqing’s chest scar faded. Chill limbs regained warmth.

As if time itself reversed.

Fatigue softened the youth’s sharp features. He withdrew his fingers, murmuring to his palm:

“Seal memories. Lock emotions. Scatter the body… The Three Realms of Ephemeral Life, huh…”

Hands clasped behind his back, his violet eyes—still faintly crimson—lifted to the sky. Drifting clouds floated, serene as ink-wash art.

“Hehe… This time… the same name again?”

A faint smile touched his lips. The icy aura melted away. A mist softened his gaze—once sharp with slaughter—now brimming with boundless tenderness… and infinite devotion.