Chapter Thirty-Two: The Formidable Spirit Ox

"This is getting interesting!" Qin Si, who had initially wanted to step forward, suddenly leaned back, settling himself atop a tree and taking out a wine flask. In front of him, a delicate little wine table floated into view, adorned with four plates of exquisite pastries. Qin Si sat there alone, sipping wine and nibbling on pastries, watching the unfolding drama as if it were a play.

None of the five ninth-level Immortal Emperors noticed that, although Ling Ox spoke softly, his body was trembling ever so slightly—a subtle quiver that only Qin Si detected. Qin Si observed that a surge of battle intent and excitement was slowly rising from Ling Ox, as if he had encountered something he particularly relished.

"Indeed, but if you cooperate, we certainly won't resort to violence," said one of the ninth-level Immortal Emperors, genuinely believing Ling Ox was intimidated and offering reassurance; the others looked equally relaxed.

"Haha, fighting—splendid! Old Ox hasn't had a proper brawl for years, it's nearly suffocating me. If it weren't for the restrictions this time, preventing me from acting as freely as Little Snake, I would have jumped in long ago!"

Ling Ox suddenly burst out laughing, his body shrinking until he became a burly man over two meters tall, bare-chested, holding a horned club in his hand.

Though his form had shrunk, his aura grew even stronger. His eyes flashed with crimson light, his excitement unmasked. "All of you, come at me together! Today you made the first move—if you won't give Old Ox a satisfying fight, I'll crush your necks!"

Ling Ox's reaction took the Immortal Emperors utterly by surprise. Some of the lower-ranked ones were forced to retreat by his overwhelming presence, leaving only those of fifth rank and above within a hundred meters of him.

"Haha, you five—take Old Ox's club first!" The human-shaped Ling Ox spun his horned club with both hands, instantly splitting into five figures. The five Ling Oxes charged at the five ninth-level Immortal Emperors.

It was impossible to distinguish which was the true body and which were the clones, yet each of the five Ling Oxes demonstrated the power of a ninth-level Immortal Emperor. The five ninth-level Immortal Emperors from Infinite Continent dared not be careless, summoning their immortal weapons and launching into combat. Ling Ox shattered their formation with this single move.

No one anticipated that Ling Ox would start fighting so abruptly, nor that he possessed such advanced clone arts. As the five ninth-level Immortal Emperors were embroiled in chaos with the five Ling Oxes, the other Immortal Emperors found it too late to assist. The five were tightly entangled with their opponents, unable to break free.

The five Ling Oxes fought ever more fiercely, their attacks devoid of finesse—pure, relentless aggression. Each blow was delivered with full force, the horned clubs exploding with powerful rotational energy. The five ninth-level Immortal Emperors struggled bitterly, sustaining themselves only by expending all their immortal power.

At last, the twelve eighth-level Immortal Emperors discerned the situation: their formation was unusable. The twelve, along with over a hundred fifth-level and higher experts, rushed in to aid the ninth-level Emperors against Ling Ox, while the remaining lower-ranked Immortal Emperors reassembled outside to prevent Ling Ox’s escape.

What none expected was that Ling Ox produced more than a hundred additional clones, each possessing strength above the fifth-level Immortal Emperor—matching their adversaries perfectly. The clones contending with the five ninth-level Emperors were slightly weaker, granting them a brief respite.

"To control clones so precisely? Ling Ox is truly remarkable!" Ling Ox's mastery of clone arts astonished Qin Si. Creating a hundred clones was not difficult, but imbuing each with different powers according to his will was another matter entirely—something Qin Si himself could not achieve.

The ten-person melee was shocking enough, but a close-range battle involving over two hundred fifth-level and higher Immortal Emperors was spectacular. The nine hundred lower-level Immortal Emperors manning the perimeter formation were all dumbfounded.

The five ninth-level Immortal Emperors were suffering inwardly. Though their pressure had lessened, they remained at a disadvantage, still suppressed by Ling Ox. Seeing Ling Ox grow more ferocious with each blow, they wondered how much longer they could endure. Their original plan to force Ling Ox to reveal the secret of becoming a god through sheer strength now seemed utterly hopeless.

“Haha, exhilarating! It’s been ages since I’ve fought so freely. I’ll ramp it up—brace yourselves!” Over a hundred Ling Oxes suddenly laughed aloud in unison, and before anyone could react, the pressure increased dramatically—Ling Ox had not even been fighting at full strength until now.

"Senior Ling Ox, we admit defeat! Please, stop!" Ling Ox's mounting pressure overwhelmed the five ninth-level Immortal Emperors; finally, one of them, unable to hold on, pleaded for mercy.

"Admit defeat? That means death!" The Ling Ox clone battling that Emperor’s expression suddenly changed, his horned club transforming into a golden spiked mace chilled with a deadly aura. With one sweeping blow, he smashed the ninth-level Immortal Emperor to pieces, destroying even his nascent soul.

A ninth-level Immortal Emperor, facing just one clone of Ling Ox, was so easily slain. All the other Immortal Emperors felt their hearts sink; the remaining four ninth-level Emperors now regretted underestimating the power of a spirit beast, which had brought them calamity.

There was no stopping now—only fighting. Ling Ox’s onslaught remained savage, draining their immortal power rapidly. If this continued, when their energy was exhausted, the seemingly tireless Ling Ox would easily slaughter them.

The four remaining ninth-level Immortal Emperors were filled with bitterness and regret, but there was nothing to be done but endure. They possessed the highest cultivation, and Ling Ox seemed to favor them with the most attention. Ironically, they were the first to falter.

"Boom!" One of the ninth-level Immortal Emperors, at last unable to continue and unwilling to be killed outright, self-destructed his nascent soul.

The explosion from the Emperor’s nascent soul injured all the Immortal Emperors present. Likewise, Ling Ox’s clones could not withstand the blast; all vanished, leaving only the original Ling Ox holding his horned club.

"Quick, run!" A sixth-level Immortal Emperor was the first to realize what had happened, shouting as he flew outward. The area near Ling Ox was sealed by formation, preventing instant teleportation.

Over a hundred high-level Immortal Emperors reacted swiftly. Before the sixth-level Emperor’s shout faded, several others had already begun fleeing in other directions. Within a few breaths, all had vanished, leaving only three ninth-level Immortal Emperors behind. They did not attempt to escape, for Ling Ox’s aura remained locked onto them. They knew that any movement would bring Ling Ox upon them instantly.

"Senior Ling Ox, what will it take for you to let us go?" One of the ninth-level Emperors, breathing heavily, asked. The three had lost all hope; the self-destruction of their comrade had not harmed Ling Ox, and they themselves, being too close to the blast, were gravely wounded. Facing Ling Ox now, they had not even the thought of resistance.

"Let go? Did I ever say I was going to kill you? Unleash your strength and keep fighting—when I’ve had my fill, I’ll let you go!" Ling Ox’s eyes rolled, and his form split into three once more, startling the remaining Emperors.

Their hearts were filled with all manner of emotions—bitterness, regret, helplessness. Continuing the fight, with their injuries, was futile; even at full strength, over a hundred high-level Immortal Emperors had been toyed with. Now, as three wounded survivors, they were utterly spent. Ling Ox was clearly forcing them to the brink.

"Let's give it everything!" One of the three could no longer bear Ling Ox's pressure, flinging his immortal weapon at Ling Ox and joining the fray. The other two soon followed suit; remaining still, the pressure from Ling Ox alone threatened to overwhelm them.

"It’s about to end," Qin Si poured himself another drink, shaking his head slightly. The three ninth-level Immortal Emperors were simply no match for Ling Ox; their fate was sealed from the moment they raised their hands.

After half a quarter of an hour, three thunderous crashes echoed—the last three ninth-level Immortal Emperors fell in battle. Ling Ox, with overwhelming power, taught Infinite Continent a lesson: never attempt to subdue a spirit beast by force. Yet Ling Ox himself was unaware that, in this space, there was someone even stronger than he.

"Well then, now that no one else is here, shall we have a chat?"

Qin Si suddenly appeared in front of Ling Ox, wine table in tow. Ling Ox was visibly surprised by Qin Si's sudden arrival, but Qin Si keenly noticed that Ling Ox’s eyes held only astonishment, not fear.

"Who are you?" Ling Ox sat down cross-legged, reaching for a plate on the wine table and dumping all the pastries into his mouth.

"My name is Qin Si," Qin Si smiled slightly. The small wine table before him transformed into a grand table, laden with even more sumptuous fare, and the wine upgraded to a large flask.

"Qin Si—you’re not from here, are you?" Ling Ox showed no hesitation, grabbing the wine flask and draining it in one gulp.

"No, I’m not. I entered through Ruan Lingyu," Qin Si replied with a smile, handing Ling Ox a jar of wine, which was even more to his liking.

"You’re quite a character. What, hoping to win my favor with these drinks?"

"Half right. What I really want is for you to tell me—where is this place? Where are you all from? And what is the Road to Heaven?"

Qin Si smiled, asking three questions in succession. He then quietly drank from his flask, unhurried, awaiting Ling Ox’s reply.