Volume One, Chapter 23: The Villainous Siblings in Long Aotian’s Story, Part 3

Knock, knock, knock—knock, knock—knock.

The sound of knocking echoed. This was the secret signal agreed upon by Long Aotian and his companions.

“What about you, Ji Han? Come with us! It’s been ages since we last teamed up for a game!” Yu Yunwang said.

He Sipin immediately sensed a change in He Ningxin’s attitude and felt a surge of joy. He glanced over at Madam Xu beside him.

Upon hearing the steward monk’s words, Madam Xia reduced the donation to one hundred taels and lit a perpetual lamp before the Buddha for Pei Shufan.

“Gold!” Xiao Yanan was momentarily stunned. Not to mention the current rising price of gold, just a short while ago, the starting price per gram was three hundred yuan, and now it had risen to three hundred and twenty yuan per gram.

Perhaps it was the power of love, or maybe the strength of faith. In an instant, Loria felt rejuvenated. She began shouting Lin Tao’s name again, digging into the desert sands beneath her bloodied hands. Her mind replayed every scene from before, one after another.

Ming Chu lowered her eyes to look at her, her eyes glistening with a faint sheen of moisture, overflowing with intense longing and pain.

Neither advancing nor retreating was an option. The group found themselves at a loss, frozen in place, their hearts pounding anxiously.

After death, their bodies were invaded by an evil force, transforming them into beings driven solely by slaughter, terrifyingly powerful! Many of the undead warriors from the Ancient Sword Tomb possessed strength rivaling that of those from the Nine Shattered Realms.

Before they knew Lin Tao’s identity, some dared to act as troublemakers—taunting with words or hostile glances. But once they learned of Lin Tao’s true power, no one dared to provoke him anymore.

The Golden Purple Flame Giant Eagle flapped its wings, whipping up a furious tempest of purple flames that threw the entire world into chaos.

In any case, you won’t suffer losses either way. At worst, you’ll have to reforge the furnace once again. Of course, this time you’ll have experience—just slap on a few defensive talismans, prepare your magical tools, and you certainly won’t be blown to bits.

Yong Qiang curiously held the sword up to his eyes. The blade, stained with the black-robed elder’s blood, seemed to react like a living potion—changing shape unpredictably: growing, thickening, twisting—while emanating a powerful aura of darkness.

“Come on now, Qingfeng, think about it. If they truly had level 100 attributes, then with our mere three hundred thousand players barely reaching level 30, wouldn’t they have slaughtered us all in a single breath? They’d have blown you away in an instant,” Di Chen rolled his eyes and retorted, striking down Qingfeng’s words.

“Are you seriously suggesting they can attack the real world through the main god realm?” the orb robot asked in disbelief.

But they all forgot—didn’t that disciple from Yunlan Sect get utterly crippled by Xiao Ye?

Only the family who survived the calamity remained at the spot. After witnessing Yong Qiang’s terrifying speed, they exchanged glances, each reading the shock reflected in the other’s eyes.

“Brother, if Mr. Zhu helps Tang Sect win today, I hope you will honor your promise and hand over the leadership of Tang Sect to me. I believe I can make the Tang Sect shine once again,” Tang Ruhu said, walking up to Tang Rulong with a flushed face.

Bai Qianqian looked at the man with indifference, momentarily at a loss for words. Since leaving Frostmoon Island, she had met more and more people, but her faith in humanity had only grown weaker.

The clear sound of birdsong lingered and faded over several seconds, fading like a mirage. The offensive had lost its vigor; two streams of energy suddenly vanished without a trace. Meanwhile, the two green swords in Zhou Nian’s hands also suffered varying degrees of damage.