"I am someone you could never have imagined!" she said. "I never thought that fool, the Little God Monarch, would actually be defeated by a piece of trash like you!"
"Are you from the God Monarch Palace?" Ye Fan was stunned, but it was already too late. The woman had already dragged him into a pocket dimension. He found himself bound, with the unconscious Su Qingxue lying next to him.
"What have you done to my wife?" Ye Fan roared.
"Oh, nothing much," she replied. "I just used a little trick on her. Now, her three souls and seven spirits have been shattered. I can kill her whenever I want!"
"Don’t you dare!" Ye Fan shouted.
"Are you curious as to how I used her as a lure to draw you out of the Outer Realm?" she asked.
"Yes, I am," Ye Fan replied immediately.
"In my God Monarch Palace, we have a technique called the Life and Death Mysterious Skill," the woman explained. "This skill allows one to control a person’s three souls and seven spirits. Once they are under my control, that person will do exactly as I command until I decide to let her go."
"How did you get to her?" Ye Fan asked. This was the part he couldn’t comprehend. After all, the Outer Realm was heavily fortified with countless Arrays and guards. Not even a fly could have slipped through, let alone a person.
"My God Monarch Palace has a divinatory art that allowed me to calculate her birth date and attributes," she said. "As it happens, my own birth date and attributes are identical to hers. Therefore, I simply performed a ritual on myself to influence her three souls and seven spirits from afar."
Ye Fan drew a sharp breath. Both the divinatory art and the Life and Death Mysterious Skill were terrifying techniques; the very thought of them was suffocating. He never could have predicted Su Qingxue would fall victim in such a manner. It was completely beyond his expectations.
"So, what do you want?" he asked.
"To kill you, of course! You, the arch-culprit of the Righteous Divine Lineage!" she snarled.
Ye Fan carefully probed the woman’s strength. It was terrifyingly immense—she was a notch stronger than him. Truly extraordinary.
"At least let me die knowing who killed me. What is your name?" he said.
"Qiu Ji," she replied.
"So, you are the true genius of the God Monarch Palace?"
Ye Fan had found traces of Qiu Ji within the Little God Monarch’s memories. This woman had always suppressed the powerful Little God Monarch, making him feel inferior in her presence.
"Correct," Qiu Ji said. "You’re smarter than I thought. It’s no great loss that a fool like the Little God Monarch died at your hands, but I am not like him. He was insufferably arrogant, thinking he was without equal in this world! I, on the other hand, will kill you now without hesitation."
As she was about to strike, Ye Fan suddenly exclaimed, "I don’t accept this!"
"Oh? And what is it you don’t accept?" she asked coldly.
"They say you surpass the Little God Monarch, that he was merely your shadow," Ye Fan said. "But I don’t believe I’m weaker than you. Do you dare accept my challenge?"
Qiu Ji laughed. "You want to challenge me?"
"Yes!" Ye Fan said calmly.
Suddenly, Qiu Ji laughed again. "I don’t accept. Do you think I’m stupid enough to fight you one-on-one? I’m not one for theatrics, even though defeating you would be as easy as slaughtering a dog."
"Die!" she snarled, lunging at Ye Fan.
Just then, Ye Fan slammed his palms together. A brilliant golden light flared, and he shattered his bonds.
Qiu Ji wasn’t flustered. Instead, she remarked with curiosity, "To think you could break my Six Paths Heavenly Lock. It seems you aren’t as pathetic as I imagined. But that doesn’t mean you’re truly powerful!"
With that, Qiu Ji attacked.
Ye Fan drew his Yuanhong Sword and roared, "Returning to the Sect Sword!"
The sword art unleashed its most powerful strike, surging toward Qiu Ji. However, a soft light enveloped her body. When the light faded, Ye Fan’s attack had vanished along with it.
So strong! Ye Fan was shaken. Even though Qiu Ji hadn’t launched a proper counterattack, he knew her power was immense. She had neutralized his attack without a sound. The thought was terrifying. He had to treat this opponent with the utmost caution. Qiu Ji was on a completely different level than the Little God Monarch. The slightest mistake would mean his defeat.
Without hesitation, Ye Fan pressed the attack. "Pure Yang Divine Fist!"
"Life and Death Mysterious Skill!" Qiu Ji countered.
All things are born only to die, and die only to be reborn. Unless one achieves true transcendence, all beings are subject to the cycle of life and death—even the legendary great powers of antiquity were no exception. The Life and Death Mysterious Skill was a martial art born from this very cycle, a transcendent technique understood through the transformation between life and death itself. To the uninitiated, it might seem simple, perhaps even a beginner’s technique. But was it truly? No, it absolutely was not. The transition between life and death was as subtle as the technique appeared, yet its power was among the greatest in the world.
The moment the Life and Death Mysterious Skill enveloped him, Ye Fan felt as if he were teetering on the precipice of life and death. Even his three souls and seven spirits began to tremble.
Ye Fan was utterly stunned. How could such a terrifying technique possess such an uncanny power? It wasn’t that his Dragon Emperor Technique was weak. Rather, the situation was like the difference between physics and chemistry. His Pure Yang Technique was a physical assault, whereas this Life and Death Mysterious Skill was an attack on the soul itself. One inflicted grievous wounds upon the body; the other, upon the spirit. Both were peerless techniques, just of completely different natures.
With his very soul threatened, Ye Fan retreated on pure instinct, putting a thousand meters between himself and Qiu Ji. Such a distance should have been safe, yet he still felt a profound sense of danger. Only one who has truly faced the brink of death could understand the terror of the Life and Death Mysterious Skill.
"To escape my Life and Death Mysterious Skill by a fluke has only piqued my interest," Qiu Ji said. "But in the end, you will still die, because your escape was nothing but a fluke!"
She then shot toward Ye Fan.
Left with no other choice, Ye Fan swiftly invoked his Absolute Peak Power to strike back. He could not retreat, not with the unconscious Su Qingxue right behind him.
"Life and Death Reincarnation, the myriad facets of the mortal realm! All things are one, how can you transcend?!" Qiu Ji chanted.
"Futian Sword Dao!" Ye Fan roared back.
He unleashed the strongest strike of his Sword Dao, the very move that represented his pinnacle. This was the same attack he had once used to defeat the arrogant Little God Monarch. This time, with conditions in his favor, Ye Fan believed he could defeat Qiu Ji, for she did not evade his sword. Instead, she charged straight into it. Though Qiu Ji was a woman, at that moment, her bearing was no less imposing than that of the mightiest ancient beings.
When her Life and Death Reincarnation clashed with his Futian Sword Dao, both cultivators unleashed their full power. The resulting blast nearly shattered the entire pocket dimension. After the exchange, they both stood motionless.
Blood dripped from the tip of Ye Fan’s sword. Each drop that touched the ground stained the green grass red, infused with an endless Power of Death that turned the vibrant, lush field a withered yellow.
Qiu Ji clutched at a wound on her torso, speaking with difficulty, "Worthy indeed of the Futian Sword Dao. I have studied and simulated your Sword Dao before and even deduced three ways to counter this very strike. But only after facing it for real did I feel its true, indescribable marvel. It seems I failed to grasp the essence of your technique after all."
Ye Fan said nothing, sinking to one knee. He too had suffered grievous internal injuries, but it was more than just that. It was an injury to his very soul. His soul had been nearly torn apart, the Life and Death Reincarnation crippling his very life force.
Ye Fan had suffered a wound beyond description.