Chapter 131: The Fateful Duel (Part One)

City of the Gods, at the zenith of the heavens.

Xiongsitian and the Twelve Heavenly Sovereigns of the God Clan remained in a standoff. Nearby stood dozens of other powerful beings, led by Zhulong, Fenghuang, and Qilinhuo, observing the scene like spectators at a play. Often, the outcome of a struggle is decided not within the confines of the chessboard, but beyond it.

Xiongsitian was well aware that as a clone, he originally possessed only one-tenth of his true form's power. Having dispatched a clone holding half of that strength to ambush Nanluo, he was currently left with a mere twentieth of his original power. Had he possessed his full tenth, he could have easily crushed the Twelve Heavenly Sovereigns. After all, a Semi-Saint has already begun the transition to "Saint" status, and the power of a Saint far surpasses the divine power of the Twelve Sovereigns. If Xiongsitian had not been so arrogant—if he hadn't insisted on brute-forcing his power against theirs—he could have picked them off one by one with ease. Even if the Twelve Sovereigns had formed a defensive array, it would have been futile; his Semi-Saint power could effortlessly tear through any formation below the Saint level.

Unfortunately, these were all mere "ifs." In reality, he was operating at a twentieth of his power, and without any magical artifacts to aid him, he knew it would be foolish—not merely arrogant—to attempt to defeat twelve Peak-stage Primordial God Sovereigns.

It was only by projecting the image of the God-Slaying Spear, demonstrating its invincible might, that he had managed to keep the Twelve Sovereigns in check thus far. Otherwise, they would have swarmed him and torn him to shreds long ago. Therefore, Xiongsitian remained motionless, waiting for them to move first, stalling for time while his other clone finished off Nanluo and returned to him. Once that happened, he would unleash his full fury, slaughter the Twelve Sovereigns, eliminate the bystanders like Zhulong, and raze the City of the Gods to the ground.

Little did he know that his dream was already shattered, destined never to come to pass.

The Twelve Sovereigns, however, held the exact same sentiment. Since everything was under the control of Lord Nanluo, there was no need for them to risk their lives in a desperate fight. Dying in battle is not necessarily pitiful; what is truly tragic is to perish on the eve of victory, unable to taste its fruits. Could there be anything more pathetic?

None of the Twelve Sovereigns were fools; they were all far too astute to accept such a fate. Once Lord Nanluo successfully broke through to the Semi-Saint level, what would this Xiongsitian even matter? Lord Nanluo could crush him with a single palm. Moreover, the projection of the God-Slaying Spear still caused them lingering dread. Any artifact with such intense malevolence was clearly terrifying. Based on their ten thousand years of experience with the Pantheon, that peerless spear, worshiped atop a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, was, if not a Primordial Treasure, then very close to it. If they were to engage in a full-scale battle and Xiongsitian suddenly summoned the spear's full projection, they might lose several of their own.

Thus, both sides remained wary, each pinning their hopes on the clone inside the Pantheon to finish his task and return to destroy the other.

Just as the two sides were locked in this psychological struggle, the heavens at the zenith shifted. The sun, which had hung in the sky for eternity, suddenly revealed a blood-red shadow within its core, plunging the zenith into sudden darkness and silence.

This minor darkness, of course, did not impede the vision of such powerful beings. As they gazed upward, the blood-red shadow in the sun appeared to grow larger, signifying its rapid approach. Because the Pantheon sat at the zenith, powerful restrictions suppressed the spiritual senses of any being not of the God Clan. The Twelve Sovereigns were the first to sweep their senses toward the shadow, discovering its true identity: it was the very Xiongsitian who had infiltrated the Pantheon.

"The Xiongsitian who infiltrated the Pantheon—how is he still alive? Has Lord Nanluo failed his breakthrough? Was he killed?" Lei Xing, ever the blunt one, voiced the fears of all the Sovereigns.

Shortly after, Xiongsitian and the dozens of experts led by Zhulong could also see the approaching figure with their own eyes.

"Eh? Xiongsitian is inside the sun? How interesting," Qilinhuo remarked with a smirk.

Fenghuang frowned. "That must be his clone, but why is he inside the sun? Unless..."

"Unless the Pantheon itself is located within the sun," Zhulong finished the thought, his expression certain. "Xiongsitian sent his clone to disrupt Nanluo's breakthrough. If his clone is coming from the sun, doesn't that confirm the location of the Pantheon?"

"Interesting!" Qilinhuo agreed. "To hide the Pantheon within the sun while we are at the zenith, unable to use our spiritual senses—if we had to search by sight alone, we might never have found it."

"But I wonder," Fenghuang added, more concerned with the outcome than the location, "did the clone succeed?"

If Nanluo successfully reached the Semi-Saint level, he would become the fourth Emperor of the Primordial Continent, and the landscape of power would shift drastically. If he failed, the God Clan's days were numbered. The Dragon, Phoenix, Qilin, and Fierce Beast clans would undoubtedly unite to eliminate the God Clan and remove the last potential contender.

Xiongsitian, however, lacked the doubts of the others; he was convinced his clone had succeeded. He knew his clone had carried the legendary power of the Saintly Path into the Pantheon. He knew that if he were breaking through and an assassin attacked him with such power, he would have had an eighty percent chance of failure and a fifty percent chance of certain death. Nanluo, despite occupying the Pantheon, could not truly command its power. How could he possibly survive such an ambush?

Alas, power cannot defy destiny. Xiongsitian never imagined that the very fate he sought to defy would not only fail to kill Nanluo but actually assist him in his breakthrough.

"Hahahaha!" Xiongsitian roared with laughter, pointing at the Twelve Sovereigns. "Nanluo is dead! Surrender now, and perhaps I shall spare your miserable lives."

"Hmph! You claim Lord Nanluo is dead, and so he is? What a laughable joke."

"As a beast, you have never understood the dictates of heaven or the laws of the universe. What right do you have to make such predictions?"

"Save your bluster for when you have actually achieved Sainthood!"

Fangyan’s sharp retort left Xiongsitian speechless. Fierce beasts were forsaken by the world, born in ignorance, unable to cultivate laws or sense the ways of the universe; they could only refine their physical bodies, hoping to prove their path through sheer strength. Even as the Emperor of all Beasts, powerful enough to reach the Semi-Saint level, he remained unable to transcend his nature or grasp the Heavenly Dao. What right did he have to prophesy?

"Well said!" Xiongsitian laughed in his fury. "I suppose I do not have that right, for now." His tone shifted, turning icy. "But wait until I have successfully defied heaven and fate to ascend to the throne of the Saint. Then you shall see if I have the right. However, it is a pity—you will not live to see that day, for you shall die by my hand right now." His blood-red eyes overflowed with murderous intent, and he smiled a cold, sinister smile.