Chapter 77: Left Unspoken

Qin Xiao waved his hand grandly.

Hai Daxi was only momentarily stunned, but quickly went to fetch the imperial edict.

Tang Sicheng’s tiger-like eyes narrowed further into two sharp slits as he watched. This foolish emperor actually means to go through with it—well, don’t blame this old man, then.

On the high platform, the excitement reached its peak. Everyone was bustling about, gathering money to bet on official positions. Some bet evenly, staking their own...

Amid the curious gazes of the crowd, Feng Nihuang’s entire body trembled. The Nine Heavens Rainbow Phoenix Martial Soul instantly descended upon her. Her tall, slender figure seemed to grow even more elegant. Her delicate fingertips elongated and transformed into phoenix talons. Two brilliant red shadows flared up at the corners of her narrow phoenix eyes, and a regal, commanding aura spread outward.

“Then you’d best keep a close eye on it—don’t let anyone steal it. Last time, someone made off with the bayberry soup you cooked,” Ruan Lingwei said with a smile.

“Let’s not talk about her for now. Your own situation is already quite unique!” The apparition sighed, a rare occurrence.

That matter from all those years ago had always been the greatest hurdle in their hearts. Every time they recalled it, they were overwhelmed by pain and remorse. Now, with Bibi Dong openly bringing up their deepest wound before the assembled crowd, the two of them could not help but grow furious.

Within the metal-clad superpower fortress, those two dark red beams made the entire structure resemble some mechanical beast—a top predator lurking in the starry expanse, always ready to ambush and deliver a fatal blow.

With their commanding officer unconscious, chaos reigned in the camp. The will to fight had vanished.

All of his synthesized pets had distinct personalities or quirks. Among them, only the Obsidian Vanguard stood out with a temperament as steady as stone—strict, disciplined, a true warrior worthy of its name.

Wasn’t the first soul ring supposed to be capped at four hundred years? How could his very first soul ring be purple?

On Lucifer’s side there were eleven espers; Fang Mobai’s Special Operations Squad had thirteen. Though outnumbered, they had no other choice.

The most amusing part was that every pet introduction ended with a detailed description of the owner. In fact, the owner’s profile was several times longer than that of the pet itself. Clearly, what mattered wasn’t the pet, but the strength of the master behind it.

Long ago, the Emperor of Fortune had signed an alliance with the Merfolk, granting them the coastal waters of the East Sea—known as the “Golden Sea”—as their eternal territory, to be inhabited by their kind for generations.

But to everyone’s astonishment, an unusual defensive barrier appeared on Madara Uchiha’s body, forcibly blocking the powerful attack.

Under the clear moonlight, the tranquil beach was swept by wind and swaying trees. The white tents of the Guido army lay in neat rows upon the flat sand, while sentries moved with torches through the camp and around its perimeter, illuminating the entire shoreline in a brilliant glow.

Shino was off to the side, treating his wounds with medical talismans and unable to assist for the moment. Killer Bee, however, rushed over, wielding two short blades infused with Lightning Release chakra, determined to slay the chameleon that was controlling Naruto.

“Don’t want to go back?” Yang Luo was taken aback, and suggestive thoughts immediately started to swirl in his mind.

Chen Mu certainly couldn’t manage it; Old Bai could only use this method for a simple test to see if the liquid was poisoned.

The formation outside her cabin was of modest grade, a standard array used by the errand disciples of Pill Peak. Since the sect had strict rules and no one dared openly to sabotage or spy, she hadn’t bothered to add any extra protections.

“Goodness, the mosquitoes here are enormous!” Cheng Yang frowned. The one he’d just crushed was at least ten times larger than those at the foot of the mountain. Its body was pitch-black, its wings translucent. Even in death, the wings remained intact. A large smear of blood clung stickily to Cheng Yang’s finger—he couldn’t tell whose blood it was.