Chapter 302 – Angel King, Fallen!

The seven Angel Kings scrutinized the dilapidated temple, their gazes finally converging on the figure seated cross-legged on the cushion beneath the offering platform.

None of them spoke. Each chose a still-intact cushion and quietly sat down.

Yet, in the act of sitting, and in the way they looked at Lu Yan, there was an involuntary trace of inexplicable caution.

This pressure—born not from the magnificence of golden palaces or divine sanctity, but from the surrounding atmosphere and the Daoist aura of “Immortal” that permeated the space—was something those resplendent, majestic halls could never reproduce.

Only then did Lu Yan, seated beneath the offering platform as if naturally occupying the seat of honor, slowly raise his eyes and speak with a clear voice:

“All of you present here today have entered this place under the guidance of the seven soon-to-awaken Sole Existences of this world. Since that is the case, there is no need for false courtesy.”

He paused, then a faint smile curved his lips—a perfect expression of arrogance:

“I represent the Netherworld. I seek to spread its faith throughout the Cryptic Version.

“And the Emperor of Fengdu shall ascend among the stars and partake in the feast of the Old Days alongside your so-called Sole Existences.

“This is not a request—it is a decree from the Emperor of Fengdu!”

These calm words stirred up a storm within the deathly silent temple.

The most hot-tempered among them, the Storm Angel King, was the first to lose composure. He abruptly stood up, his face twisting in fury.

At once, gales howled and clouds surged. A bright, clear sky turned to utter darkness, and endless thunder gathered above the Yellow Springs, responding to the angel’s fury.

“Arrogant!”

A thunderous roar echoed across the void!

Amid the roiling sea of lightning, storm and thunder converged and compressed, ultimately forming a golden bolt of lightning that pulsed between reality and illusion.

This bolt was no ordinary lightning. Coiling around it was a fragment of Storm’s unique authority—an incomplete form of singularity akin to a divine sword descending from the heavens, tearing through the skies and slamming down upon the Yellow Springs.

The boundary between the real and the illusory shattered beneath the golden lightning. It split the Yellow Springs and bore down upon the ancient temple and all who dwelled within.

Its might was such that it could obliterate the legendary Yellow Springs and everything it bore—this temple, and even all lives inside.

The other six Angel Kings looked on with subtle expressions.

They neither intervened nor spoke—merely watched, hoping to glean more information from Lu Yan’s reaction.

Angel Kings, as vessels of divine descent rooted in the god-paths, had their emotions and behaviors shaped by the essence of their chosen path.

The Storm Angel King, master of storm and tempest, was naturally prone to rage and recklessness.

Lu Yan’s declaration, to them, was nothing short of naked provocation. The Storm Angel King’s outburst was not only a reflection of his nature but also, to some extent, a collective test from all seven Angel Kings.

To probe Lu Yan—or more precisely, the Emperor of Fengdu standing behind him.

If Lu Yan could brush off this attack with ease and confidence, then he might just possess enough strength to warrant further negotiation—even on subjects as absurd as spreading faith or sharing in divine feasts.

But if he struggled, faltered, or showed even a hint of weakness, then the next step wouldn’t be words—it would be six Angel Kings striking together to crush this deluded Nether Envoy.

And yet, as thunder roared over the Yellow Springs and a bolt of golden lightning bearing incomplete singularity hurtled toward the fragile temple, Lu Yan… smiled.

He remained seated, relaxed, not even bothering to rise. He simply shook his head, cold amusement flashing in his eyes.

“Truly, a local-born Angel King,” he said softly. Though his voice wasn’t loud, it reached every Angel King’s ears with clarity. “To think that just a fragment of old singularity makes you believe you stand atop all beings—second only to the Sole Existence?”

His gaze sharpened. “So reckless… Are you ready to pay the price?”

As his words fell, the golden lightning shattered the deathly and apocalyptic nature of the Yellow Springs, descending with unstoppable force onto the temple that looked moments away from collapse.

A strike from a Sequence One Angel King, driven by rage, could easily annihilate an ordinary hidden evil god.

In the outside world, Lu Yan would have had no choice but to summon his Imperial Manifestation and borrow the divine order of Fengdu City just to barely survive.

But that would mean exposing all his cards. Even if he survived the first blow, the remaining Angel Kings would certainly follow with their own, and defeat would be inevitable.

However, this wasn’t the outside world.

This was the Ancestral Hall of the Taiyi Sect—the place where the ancient Sole Existence, Immortal Taiyi, had fallen!

Lu Yan used his own memory as a medium, empowered by the Divine Court and his Imperial Manifestation, and relied on the divine power of Creation Reversal to recreate this scene.

The terrifying thing about Creation Reversal was that what it created was not illusion—it twisted reality and granted existence to what should’ve been memory.

Here, the death of an Immortal, the echoes of a battle between Sole Existences, were not fantasy—they were real. They lingered and influenced the space to this very moment.

In such a place, how could a mere fragment of old singularity possibly shake the Taiyi Sect’s Ancestral Hall, which bore the cause and effect of killing an Immortal?

Just as the golden lightning was about to strike the roof, a plaque on the offering platform—split in half by a sword scar and engraved with the broken character for “Immortal”—moved ever so slightly.

There was no blinding flash, no world-shaking explosion.

Only a faint mist rose from the plaque.

That mist was hazy, ever-shifting—yet in a single instant, it coalesced into an invisible hand embodying the supreme principles of heaven and earth.

The hand casually waved.

And in that motion, heaven and earth, all beings, time and space, fate and causality—everything—underwent a subtle yet absolute change.

Yi.
The core of the Taiyi Dao lay in that one word: “Change.”

All things were constantly in motion and in flux.

The Dao of Taiyi sought to see that change, guide that change, and ultimately control that change.

Change the heavens and the earth.
Change sun and moon, mountains and rivers, fate and all beings.

Let all the world’s endless change be drawn into the grasp of Taiyi.

That golden lightning, bearing a fragment of Storm’s incomplete singularity, was undone the moment it touched the power of Yi. There was no explosion—only silent disintegration.

Even the singularity it held—coveted by countless Sequence Two entities—melted like snow in the sun beneath the lingering aura of Taiyi’s Dao.

An Angel King and a Sole Existence might only differ by a single step. As vessels, Angel Kings could even bear traces of a Sole Existence’s descent.

Yet this single step… was an unbridgeable chasm.

What they witnessed defied understanding. Even the Storm Angel King himself was shaken.

They had anticipated that Lu Yan might have hidden cards, that he wouldn’t act so boldly without a reason.

But that a wisp of aura from that broken plaque could so effortlessly erase a singularity-infused attack—that shattered everything they thought they knew.

“Great One…?”
The thought surfaced in all seven minds at once.

They finally grasped the magnitude of what might be sealed within that humble, shattered plaque.

But they failed to realize—or realized too late—that when the Storm Angel King attacked, when Lu Yan’s memory was thus activated and the flow of predetermined future began, something terrible had already been set into motion.

“Usurper—be judged.”

Seated on the cushion, Lu Yan closed his eyes. His face was calm, as though declaring a long-predestined truth.

He pressed his index and middle fingers together, forming a sword seal, and casually slashed through the air toward the stunned Storm Angel King.

The Storm Angel King instantly sensed mortal danger.

His pupils shrank. Without thinking, he blurred into motion, retreating faster than lightning, abandoning his cushion in fear.

Yet no world-shattering attack followed. The surroundings remained still. Only the plaque stood in silence.

The Storm Angel King steadied himself, suspicion flickering across his face—then growing into anger as he felt mocked.

But when his eyes fell upon that plaque and recalled the earlier terror, the rage died instantly. He forced out a growl:

“Bluffing!”

He calmed himself, believing it had all been intimidation, and prepared to return to his cushion.

But at the very moment he moved—

The plaque, etched with the broken character for “Immortal,” split in two without warning.

And then, a radiant sword light—glorious beyond description, cutting across all reality—suddenly appeared.

That light did not belong to this world.

It crossed time—past, present, and future—and shattered billions of tangled causal threads.

Where it pointed, even the infinite branching timelines of countless versions crumbled into singularity.

This was the most deeply seared memory in Lu Yan’s mind.

Jiang Zhiwei, First True Disciple of Taiyi Sect, slaying Immortal Taiyi in the Ancestral Hall with the sword of Eternal Reality!

Lu Yan had never simply recreated a temple.

He had recreated the memory of Jiang Zhiwei’s Immortal-slaying strike.

And the Storm Angel King, by attacking and retreating, had stepped outside the bounds of his cushion—stepping into the path of that memory-turned-reality.

What he now faced was no longer Lu Yan…

But the Eternal Sword from memory—one that could slay even a Sole Existence.

What Sequence One?
What divine vessel?
What incomplete singularity?

Before this blade that transcended time and causality—even Sole Existence crumbled!

The radiant sword light flashed—too fast, too silent.

And in that moment, the Storm Angel King, along with everything he represented—concepts, existence, cause and effect—was utterly erased. No trace remained.

As the light faded, deep within Lu Yan’s consciousness, the memory of witnessing Jiang Zhiwei’s sword strike began to… shift.

In that memory, Jiang Zhiwei, seated languidly at the offering platform, suddenly looked straight at Lu Yan.

A playful, teasing smile curved his lips.

“Interesting.”

The voice was faint and fleeting, like an illusion.

But Lu Yan knew.
Because of the power of Creation Reversal… his memory had been rewritten.

The sword light finally vanished. Silence returned to the temple.

The offering platform remained broken. The plaque bearing “Immortal” had shattered, and the divine aura it held was gone.

Yet on the seven cushions within the Ancestral Hall…

Only six Angel Kings remained.

(End of Chapter)