There was only one palm between heaven and earth—and when that palm belonged to the Third Young Master, paired with his Asura Devil Eyes, it was enough to crush the will of any who dared resist.
The roar of his palm wind surged like a tempest from the depths of the universe. It threatened to rip apart the very fabric of existence. The massive palm blotted out the sky—not just the heavens, but all vitality beneath it, swallowing life, earth, and breath in a single dreadful sweep.
BOOM!The deafening crash shook the entire room. Cracks tore across the ceiling like a spiderweb, and a rain of dust and debris filled the air, engulfing the private suite in a choking, smoke-laden gloom.
Half the wall had been obliterated by the blow, and what remained teetered on collapse. As for the woman in crimson—she had vanished without a trace.
She hadn't been shattered by the attack. In fact, at the very instant the Heaven-Covering Palm descended, she had slipped through a hidden door and disappeared.
The Third Young Master stood before the broken wall, cold and silent, staring at where the door had once been.
Behind that doorway lay a vertical shaft, descending into pitch blackness. The crimson-clad woman had dropped straight down into it.
A dank, icy wind rose from the shaft, laced with a faint, sweet fragrance—too faint to intoxicate a master like the Third Young Master, but potent enough to ward off ordinary pursuers.
He waved a hand, scattering the toxic mist, but noticed small holes had already formed on his clothes from its corrosive effects.
"Such potent venom," he muttered. With a single strike, he toppled the crumbling wall and sealed the entrance to the shaft, stopping the spread of poison—after all, not everyone here had his resistance.
He turned back. Qiao Wei and Uncle Li were standing there, eyes full of killing intent.
"No need to chase down a cornered beast," he said flatly. "That passage is strange. We shouldn't move blindly."
Qiao Wei nodded. "Third Young Master, this place is clearly a demonic cult stronghold. Those eight swordsmen earlier were Swiftblades of the Misty Sky Sect, one of the three sects under the Devil's Gate. That woman was a 'Nine-Yin Saintess' from the Heart-Bewitching Sect, and the guide was likely a lower-ranked disciple from the Cloud Veil Sect. With all three sects present in Dingzhou, it's safe to say the Five Halls are also lurking nearby. Looks like the Devil's Gate is planning to stir up serious trouble at the Martial Assembly."
The Third Young Master sneered, "So it was them who smeared my name across the jianghu. I hadn't even gone after them yet, and they already dared to lay a hand on me! Well then—if people don't mess with me, I won't mess with them. But if they do… I'll make them pay. If I want to live in peace, it looks like I'll have to wrestle with the Devil's Gate to the bitter end!"
Uncle Li frowned. "If all three sects and five halls have gathered here, then their leader—Ximen Wudi—may be in Dingzhou too. He's a martial prodigy. Ten years ago, at just twenty-three, he had already mastered five layers of the Mind-Shattering Sutra and four layers of the Heaven-Slaying Codex. If he's truly perfected both… there might be no one in the world who could defeat him."
Qiao Wei nodded solemnly. "Old Li is right. Ten years ago, he could already go toe-to-toe with me. I never liked the guy, and publicly acted like he didn't matter—but the truth is, he's not to be underestimated."
"How does he compare to my old man?" the Third Young Master asked. At this point, even he knew better than to be cocky. If that Nine-Yin Saintess nearly took down all four of them, what would it mean to face the Devil's Gate's top expert?
Qiao Wei sighed. "Hard to say. Your father hasn't fought seriously in years. Old Li and I might be able to suppress him if we teamed up—but the truth? We won't know until fists fly."
The Third Young Master rolled his eyes. "So basically, you don't know squat. Still, Ximen Wudi won't kill me. Didn't you say he's using me to strike against the Xiaoyao Villa and the Ironblood Howling Fortress? If I die, what leverage does he have? And anyway, if he really wanted me dead, wouldn't it be a piece of cake?"
He waved his hand. "Forget it. Whether it's Ximen Wudi or Dongfang Bubai—let's get out of here. I'm starving. Damn it, I was already hungry, now I've wasted all that qi fighting—makes it worse! The place is wrecked, nothing left to see here. Let's eat!"
With that, the four of them swaggered out of the ruined VIP lounge, leaving behind a battlefield littered with corpses.
Except… those corpses no longer looked like people.
The four black-robed swordsmen that Qiao Wei had casually flicked, stepped on, or tapped—each now stood frozen in place, expressions twisted in agony. Before their companions' eyes, they aged at terrifying speed—muscles shriveled, skin wrinkled, teeth fell out, hair turned white then dropped in clumps. Even their clothes and swords corroded like they were being devoured by time itself.
As for the ones struck by Uncle Li's Phantom Demon Palm, they turned into shimmering statues—bodies, weapons, clothing all transforming into something like fragile crystal. A single falling ceiling tile sent spiderweb cracks racing across one of their bodies.
The guide? He'd been dead the moment he entered. Qiao Wei had patted his shoulder twice, embedding a technique called "Time Spares No One" inside his body.
By the time the four left the casino, the upper floor was a graveyard. No corpses remained—only five piles of fine ash, and four mounds of glittering crystal dust.
As they walked down the street, en route to a tavern, the Third Young Master suddenly frowned.
"Hey, Wei-ge," he said, "do you remember what that Nine-Yin Saintess looked like?"
Qiao Wei paused, replaying the entire encounter in his mind, from her appearance to the moment she fled. He even recalled the seductive hallucination she'd cast with her ultimate charm technique—Dream of a Fallen Nation—where a demonic dancer undressed in slow, sensual agony.
After a moment, he admitted in defeat, "It's weird, Third Young Master. I swear I saw her face when we first entered, but now? I can't remember a thing."
The Third Young Master turned to Uncle Li.
Li shook his head. "Don't ask me. I'm old, my memory's already terrible. And with her using the Devil's Gate's strongest enchantment spell? I got nothing."
He looked toward Li Xiaoye.
Her cheeks flushed crimson. She remembered all too well how she'd lost control under the Saintess' spell—how her body had moved on its own, hands trailing across sensitive spots with a pleasure that made her legs go weak. Though no one had seen her, just remembering it made her want to dig a hole and hide.
Seeing the Young Master glance her way, she snapped, "What are you looking at?! Never seen a girl before?!"
He chuckled. "Who wants to look at you? I was asking if you remember what the enchantress looked like."
Head down, she mumbled, "If you big experts can't remember, how would I? Don't ask me. I know nothing."
The Third Young Master sighed.
He'd been well and truly played this time.
Even though his Asura Devil Eyes had broken her illusion, not even he could recall the woman's face. She hadn't used a mask. Instead, her spell amplified every seductive feature a thousandfold, causing each victim to fixate on whatever they found most alluring—be it eyes, lips, or curves. But what they remembered was a distorted illusion, not the truth.
So though all four had clearly seen her face, none could recognize her again if she returned.
Worse still, not even Qiao Wei and Uncle Li—veterans of the Devil's Gate—knew the full mechanics of the Heart-Bewitching Sect's highest arts.
That irritated him deeply.
Imagine the humiliation if word got out that the Third Young Master locked eyes with a world-shaking beauty for nearly the length of an incense stick… and couldn't even remember her face!
Worse yet—if she ever appeared again, he wouldn't recognize her. And with his habit of never missing a beautiful woman, the risk of falling for her twice was dangerously high.
He muttered, "Damn it. What if I start doubting every pretty girl I see? How will I flirt in peace? What kind of fake playboy would I be then? No, to hell with it—if I see her again, I'll just sleep with her first and ask questions later!"
As he gritted his teeth in frustration, he suddenly halted mid-step. His eyes narrowed.
"Something's wrong. My gut says… something very bad is about to happen to me."