Chapter 666: Chapter 460: Coordinates and Clans

The scorching and fierce Immortal Light and the icy eternal starlight converge upon the sky, layers upon layers of glass-colored clouds churn below, illuminated by this terrifying radiance to appear exceedingly magnificent, like a boiling sea of multicolored lava.

Upper Realm, within the Fairy Palace.

Immortal mist swirls, the heavenly sound faintly emerges.

Immortal Ancestor Feng Ting sits upon the Immortal Platform, dressed in a snow-colored Immortal Robe, with star rivers’ birth and death, primordial chaos opening up with Immortal Patterns flowing upon his robe.

He slowly raises his hand, countless threads of subtle laws tremble along, an ancient plate flies out of the void, suspended above his palm.

Holy Spirit Plate.

Feng Ting’s gaze falls upon the Holy Spirit Plate, his deep eyes akin to an abyss, slowly breaking the tranquility, his calm expression noticeably sinking.

He falls into contemplation, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the Holy Spirit Plate:

“…Martial Ancestor.”

He never expected that in the past, Yan Feng took great pains to seize this Immortal Dao Sacred Artifact before falling, intending for this moment, when Chu Zheng stands at the brink of life and death, to win a sliver of life for him.

At this moment, the emotions in Feng Ting’s heart are surging, far from the surface calm.

Not only Yan Feng, but Fu Pinglan’s nearly obsessive killing intent toward Chu Zheng, what is the reason?

Chu Zheng practically grew up right under his eyes; initially, without Heavenly Fate, he paid him little mind, until the Immortal Crossing Ceremony, when Chu Zheng swallowed fortune, leading to some murderous intent.

Now, even under such a lethal predicament, Chu Zheng still safely escapes; such destiny to seemingly defy the heavens is beyond being described as “abnormal.”

Chu Zheng has become a variable, enough to shake the foundations of the Immortal Domain clans…

“Feng Ting, come out and see me!”

Suddenly!

A shout like a divine thunder of the nine heavens erupts, carrying boundless ferocity, it ruggedly penetrates the heavy restrictions of the Fairy Palace, explosively roaring beside Feng Ting’s ears!

Outside the hall, in the sky above, ninety-nine rounds of sun pierced by divine chains seemingly angered by this shout violently tremble.

The Immortal Fire Divine Chain piercing them wildly churns, emitting the sound of friction and explosion that shatters gold and stone, instantly making the already scorching and violent Immortal Light even fiercer.

The skies suddenly rise with wind and thunder, countless purple-black lightning springs up out of nowhere, like chaotic dragons dancing, tearing apart the glass-colored sea of clouds, casting the entire Great Immortal Realm into an apocalypse-like scene, terrifying pressure like a substantial tsunami strikes the Fairy Palace’s walls, emitting a muffled rumble.

Feng Ting sits quietly upon the Immortal Platform, the Mysterious Emperor Robe unmoved amidst the invisible pressure storm, his eyes seemingly able to pierce through eternity suddenly narrow, from deep within a cold spark, like a cold star, emerges.

Instantly.

His figure disappears from the original spot, and in the next moment, he silently appears in the void outside the Fairy Palace, facing the source that churns the storm in the sky.

Above the numerous blazing suns, beneath the Star Dome, two figures stand like unfathomable mountains, emitting a terrifying aura dulling the stars.

It is Fu Pinglan and Heavenly Punishment.

Fu Pinglan’s gaze like two tempered blades pierces directly at Feng Ting:

“I have no intention of playing games with you.”

His voice rolls like thunder, each word carrying indisputable power: “Give me the coordinates of Chu Zheng’s escape to the Universe, I’ll go and kill him.”

Straight to the point, with no intention of wasting time.

Feng Ting stands with hands behind his back, his Immortal Robe fluttering, looking at these two Martial Ancestors with indifference, saying nothing.

Fu Pinglan’s mouth draws a smile filled with mockery and sharpness: “Put away your hypocrisy, Feng Ting, I know your desire to kill Chu Zheng is no less than mine; idle pretenses aren’t needed here.”

He steps forward, the void beneath his feet like fragile glass shattering inch by inch, his voice growing icier:

“Chu Zheng practiced your Immortal Dao methods, stole your Immortal Dao’s fortune, counting as half an Immortal Path Cultivator; the Immortal Fortune he carries has become a seed of calamity, if I kill him, this battle is the start of a Dao War, I will set the stage and bear the consequences!”

Fu Pinglan’s eyes surge with bloody electricity, with a determination verging on madness: “And you, could stay out, preserve Taiching Qi Cultivators as an arm, reaping benefits; it’s a matter of all gains and no harm, coordinates—give me!”

Upon hearing Fu Pinglan’s unrestrained, straight-to-the-core trade conditions, Feng Ting falls silent for a moment.

In his profound eyes, countless stars phantom, space-time trajectories evolve, as if deducing a myriad possibilities in an instant.

Fu Pinglan’s words accurately intervene in the scales of his inner weighing.

The threat of Chu Zheng’s existence, the initiation of Dao War, the retention of Taiching… in a fleeting instant, all benefits and losses weave rapidly within his heart.

During this subtle moment of silence.

The void beside Feng Ting, like water ripples, silently spreads open, a clear and cold figure emerges as if Moonlight.

Moonlight Immortal Ancestor walks out of the void, those serene Dan Feng eyes like autumn water are now filled with killing intent.

This bit of killing intent is not aimed at Fu Pinglan and Heavenly Punishment, but directly at Feng Ting:

“Do you intend to help the Martial Hall?”

As an Immortal Ancestor, if Feng Ting makes such a move, the impact is enormous, entirely different in significance.

This is equivalent to fully pushing Chu Zheng to the opposite side of the Immortal Dao, leaving no room for maneuver in the future.

Feng Ting’s gaze, like brushing past irrelevant fallen leaves, extremely calmly sweeps over Moonlight Immortal Ancestor’s face filled with opposition.

His expression cold, with no hesitation, raises his right hand, flicks his forefinger at Fu Pinglan.

Buzz!

A light point condensed to the extreme, containing endless space coordinate information, like a meteor piercing through darkness, instantly traversing the void filled with destructive aura between the two, steadily suspends in front of Fu Pinglan.

In the light point, stars’ trajectory flows, space coordinates flicker, clearly pointing to a location.

The transaction is complete.

Fu Pinglan says no more, accepts the coordinates, heads straight to the Boundary, simultaneously sends a message from his fingertips, directly to the Chaos Sea.

There, Martial Path has another Martial Ancestor, who can arrive in the Universe first.

The dead silent oppressive aura silently envelops the skies burnt by the blazing golden suns.

“Feng Ting, you ultimately took this step.”

Moonlight’s eyes can’t hide disappointment: “Are the Thirteen Clans truly more important than the entire Immortal Dao?”

“The Immortal Dao is born from clans; the Dao may collapse, but the clan must not be extinct.”

Feng Ting’s expression is calm, unruffled:

“Chu Zheng already has the bearing to bear Heavenly Fate; if truly creation renovates, heaven and earth restart, fortune returns to one, then clans collapse, bloodlines perish, you and I have no chance of survival.”

His gaze falls again upon Moonlight, concluding his intention:

“Even if Martial Path holds all Heavenly Fate, clans must surrender fortune, integrate within Martial Path, hence preserving bloodlines.”

“Again with the bloodlines…”

Upon hearing, Moonlight Immortal Ancestor shakes his head slightly, his gaze dims, the starlight in his eyes suddenly extinguishes, turning to disappear within the Star Field, leaving only a whisper:

“This battle… I won’t fight.”

……

……

Myriad Realms.

A forgotten Great Realm at the edge of Myriad Realms, Spiritual Energy thin, laws obscure.

It’s midday, two blazing suns hang in the sky.

Amid continuous mountains, a solitary peak rises, its shape like a sword, piercing the dual suns, the peak covered in a layer of flowing clear brilliance, shielding from the searing heat of the suns.

At the peak, there is a small courtyard.

The courtyard is exceedingly simple, composed of three to five seemingly ordinary bamboo and wood houses, with fences woven from ordinary dead branches and vines.

The courtyard has no flowers or grass, only a piece of blue-black rock polished smooth as a mirror, and a few scattered strange stones seemingly containing some natural Dao rhythm.

The entire courtyard exudes an air of returning to simplicity, isolated from the world with tranquility.

A figure strides hurriedly with a gust of wind, rushing into the courtyard:

“There’s news about Chu Zheng from the outside world.”