Chapter Thirty: Victory and Defeat

Wind Xiang’s eyes gleamed faintly.

The great dragon raised its head, roaring at the starry vault, exuding an unstoppable might that erupted into swathes of calamity—its sweeping tail unleashed torrents, ripping open terrifying rifts in the void.

In that instant, the number of northern stars plummeted.

Little Broken Grass watched anxiously.

Though she’d forced out a dragon, it was incomplete, prematurely formed and lacking a vital core domain—at best, it wielded only sixty percent of its true power. Victory was far from assured.

Yet, having released it, she could only clash head-on with Wind Xiang—either one would perish.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Now the southern central stars, too, began to dwindle rapidly; the dragon’s head rose, unleashing all dormant cosmic disasters in a blaze—there was no destroying only the opponent’s stars.

What differed was that central south’s losses were noticeably less than the north’s.

“Perish!”

Wind Xiang’s soft command rang out, fearless, pushing his pieces forward with bold vigor.

The Catastrophe Star of Darkness rampaged madly, launching a fierce onslaught against the enemy’s nucleus—choosing a direct confrontation. This round would not end until one side’s stars fell below a hundred thousand.

Meteors howled, flames tore through the sky, corrosive vapors exploded, darkness-devouring vortices spun, and void seas surged…

In mere moments, both sides suffered heavy losses.

Wind Xiang lost eighty million stars; Little Broken Grass lost fifty-five million.

Thunderous eruptions resounded—

The Primal Star Domain blazed with brilliance. The interconnected swathes of destruction resembled a burning dragon’s spine, blindingly fierce, sweeping outward in all directions—an overwhelming force annihilating all stars, friend and foe alike.

At the same time, the Catastrophe Star of Darkness ran wild, provoking black holes, impact stars, abyssal trenches—each one a deadly threat. The goaded celestial bodies unleashed devastating power, obliterating swathes of southern central stars.

Little Broken Grass watched, eyes blazing.

Wind Xiang’s Catastrophe Star was playing with fire—its maneuvers pushed the limits, dancing on the edge of self-destruction, singing a battle hymn.

He disregarded even the risk of self-immolation!

Now, with a few deft moves, she could likely destroy his Catastrophe Star and end the duel—but for once in this cosmic battle, she dared not take the gamble.

The central catastrophe star was still needed to guide the dragon, draw out its full power—every second counted, and she could not be distracted.

“The dragon is still closing the gap, but the northern counterattack is growing fiercer.”

Nine Dreams took a deep breath, her delicate, fair face flushed with tension.

In half a quarter-hour, the outcome would be revealed.

…

Sea of Flowers, World Mountain.

The Hundred Apertures Star hung across the sky, dazzling golden, as if forged from pure gold, now grinding down a sacred and holy star.

Not far off, an elderly man in moon-white robes sat cross-legged on a cloud sea, serene. Around him floated vast clouds of seven-colored astral energy, primal cosmic essence, and miraculous substances.

In half a day, the Hundred Apertures Star had crushed seven stars—astonishing efficiency. Next, it would begin refining the embryonic form of the Reversed Cosmic Spirit.

A thunderous rumble.

Suddenly, the golden Hundred Apertures shuddered, pressure surging from all sides—the grinding of that holy star sharply accelerated.

Yet this sacred star was unusual; oddly, despite being mostly ground down, it had not released any material—it seemed not meant for use as refined star essence.

A hiss…

Above the old man’s head floated a slip of white paper. With a subtle tremor, it released a radiant blade that cleaved the heavens.

Beneath that blade, several divine crystals shattered one by one, emitting an enchanting, soul-stirring glow.

The golden Hundred Apertures Star inhaled.

The radiant energy from the crystals was instantly devoured. In no time at all, three wisps of mysterious, lively aura drifted from the apertures, soaring toward the heavens as if sentient, seeking to flee the Sea of Flowers.

But the place was already sealed.

Blocked by a veil of light, the three wisps lost all will to escape, floating gently to the old man’s side and settling in peace.

“That must be the Primordial Chaos Qi. It’s said that when the cosmos first opened, this qi was born alongside the rebellious true spirit—when the flood faded, it all but vanished, making it incomparably rare.”

The Dance Divine Venerable smiled, dimples charming and sly, her autumn-water eyes beautiful enough to make hearts tremble.

“To consume this qi is to gain peerless talent.”

A graceful and gentle goddess of the Sea of Flowers spoke: “Even these three mere wisps would spark calamity, inciting countless star cultivators to bloody strife.”

“This isn’t even the final form—the Reversed Cosmic Spirit, refined from the essence of a hundred desolate stars and the river of the gods, is a complex and arduous process. Only the Nine Venerables can achieve it.”

The First Divine Venerable, Ming Luo, replied.

“When the Venerables speak, I can’t understand a word,”

muttered Little Lily, blinking from within the folds of Dance Divine Venerable’s robe. She dared only poke out a tiny bud, peeking shyly at the supreme beings of the Sea of Flowers.

She whispered, feeling her own knowledge woefully inadequate.

Just then—

“Seize the spirit.”

The long-silent Da Jiuxing finally opened his eyes, two radiant beams shooting forth, his hair fluttering up.

At his command, the clouds of auspicious energy and star crystals quickly crumbled to powder, drifting away and vanishing.

This sight would surely pain many veteran star forgers.

After all, these precious divine essences had taken the grinding of seven extraordinary stars to accumulate, now consumed in the blink of an eye.

As the vast essences vanished, the three lively wisps trembled, as if greatly nourished—growing more divine and spirited, their vitality strengthening, and a strange fragrance wafting forth.

Little Lily inhaled reflexively and froze—just that scent had increased her cultivation considerably.

It seemed… even her natural gifts had improved!

How wondrous, these star forgers—just the smallest overflow brought such miraculous effects.

At this time, while refining the star, Da Jiuxing sent out a strand of divine thought.

He smiled at the First Divine Venerable: “Ming Luo, my boy Xiang’er is somewhere in the Sea of Flowers now, who knows where he’s raising mischief. Could you send word and ask him to come observe? That child is willful—if he refuses, let him be, just pass along my message.”

“Of course,”

Ming Luo understood—this star forging by the Nine Venerables was key for the heir’s growth.

Yet, rumor had it that Young Master Wind was not interested at all, causing the venerable much vexation.

It was almost comical. So many star forgers would give anything for a close glimpse of this supreme art, yet their own young master couldn’t care less, often brushing it off.

One could not help but find it amusing.

“I’ll go inform him,”

the serene Fan Zhuyan suddenly offered.

“Very well,”

Ming Luo nodded. The Nine Venerables had been invited to the Sea of Flowers by Fan Zhuyan, who’d met Young Master Wind—she was indeed the best choice.

“Perhaps I should go. I just saw that young master as I arrived,”

said Dance Divine Venerable, her smile playful yet tinged with a subtle awkwardness.

She had personally sent Wind Xiang to the Black Prison. From his demeanor, he wouldn’t leave until he found the Ancient Heir.

Even if others turned the Sea of Flowers upside down, they’d never find Wind Xiang.

She hadn’t expected such a twist—she only hoped he hadn’t yet encountered that one…

“We’ll go together,”

Fan Zhuyan said coolly, glancing at Dance. Her calm, melodious voice left no room for refusal, making it clear she didn’t wish to debate the matter further.