The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

Just as Fang Ting and his companions found a suitable place to rest and began setting up an array to recover, a new disturbance broke out.

Five Saint King Realm experts with heavy, oppressive auras flew straight toward them from the distance, landing before them in short order.

Judging by their approach, it seemed they were simply passing by and decided to come over after spotting the three.

Thankfully, they weren't members of the Five Great Demon Sects—otherwise, they would've attacked without a word.

Even so, Shen Hongyi's expression grew grim. He didn't act rashly but asked in a low voice,

"May I ask what business brings you here?"

The five didn't reply. There was no conversation. They just attacked directly.

Maybe they'd sensed Fang Ting's group had just come out of a grueling battle and saw a chance to kill and loot, or maybe they simply thought five against three gave them the upper hand.

Even if they found no treasure, just killing three Saint Kings would net them a significant haul.

Whatever the case, the trio—already drained from battle and flight—was now forced into another confrontation at a disadvantage.

As the clash began, Yin Xianhong's expression shifted. She sent a voice transmission:

"These five are the black-robed Saint Kings who ambushed us back then."

"It's them?!" Fang Ting was stunned. They'd already encountered two groups of old enemies since entering this small world.

Before long, the five recognized her as well—through the sacred weapon she used.

Just as Shen Hongyi had recognized the Three Holy Lands earlier, Saint Kings who had fought before could often identify each other by aura, weapon, or technique.

The black-robed Saint Kings communicated quietly:

"That woman is Yin Xianhong, Prefect of Shenque Mansion. She got away last time. We can't let her escape again!"

"Too bad Fang Ting isn't here. That would've been a real bonus!"

"If we get the chance, we should capture Yin Xianhong alive. She's close with Fang Ting—we could use her to draw him out."

"Brilliant idea!"

They clearly remembered the previous ambush, when Fang Ting had only been at the Great Saint Realm. It hadn't been long since then. There was no way he could've broken through to the fifth level of the Saint King Realm so quickly.

This was exactly why Fang Ting had been concealing his cultivation and seldom making moves. As long as he didn't fight publicly or reveal his sacred weapons and aura, no one would realize who he was.

With that confirmed, their attacks grew fiercer—especially against Shen Hongyi and Fang Ting.

Their aim was to eliminate the two quickly, freeing up hands to capture Yin Xianhong and then coerce Fang Ting—or more specifically, to seize the treasures of Wanbao Pavilion.

Under this intense assault, Fang Ting and Shen Hongyi's pressure multiplied.

Back then, Yin Xianhong had been at the fifth level of the Saint King Realm, while all five attackers had been at the sixth or higher—leaving her with no chance to resist.

Even though she had since broken through, and even with Shen Hongyi and Fang Ting at her side, they still weren't a match for five coordinated enemies—especially not in their current depleted state.

They'd just escaped a long, draining pursuit, and hadn't recovered at all. Their strength was far from peak.

The battle had barely begun when they were already on the defensive, struggling to fend off the onslaught. If it continued, defeat was certain.

"Run!"

Without hesitation, they turned and fled.

The five black-clad Saint Kings gave chase instantly.

Their group had already used many of their escape treasures during the previous pursuit. Now, they had few left.

And since these five were determined to kill them, they fought all the harder, making it even more difficult to open a gap.

Shen Hongyi sent a voice message:

"This won't work. We need to split up."

With five chasing three, someone was always catching up. But if they separated, it would be one-on-one chases—much easier to shake off.

The three each picked a different direction.

The black-robed Saint Kings didn't hesitate. One went after Shen Hongyi, while two chased Yin Xianhong, and the remaining two went after Fang Ting.

Fang Ting raised an eyebrow.

"They're giving me so much attention? Two Saint Kings just for me?"

He was the weakest of the three. Originally, he'd hoped that if only one came after him, he could use a secret technique and reverse-kill the attacker.

But now—two Saint Kings at the seventh level were coming for him.

Even so, Fang Ting remained confident. If it came to it, he was sure he could kill one, and if the other didn't flee immediately, kill both.

That said, he couldn't be sure what trump cards they might have—techniques that could temporarily boost their power. If he pushed them too hard, they might respond in kind.

So Fang Ting decided not to use his final ace just yet. Fortunately, his movement techniques were top-tier, and they couldn't catch up for now.

"Rumble!!"

A giant mountain suddenly rushed by in the distance. Fang Ting quickly altered his course to avoid it. His two pursuers did the same.

The randomly flying mountains in this small world were dangerous—even for Saint Kings. Getting hit was no joke.

"You can't run forever!"

Laughter rang out behind him.

Fang Ting ignored them. Then, in the distance, he spotted a towering peak that rose so high its summit was out of sight.

Mountains were everywhere in this small world, some mobile, some not. But this was the tallest he had seen yet.

After a brief moment of thought, Fang Ting began climbing the peak.

Due to the gravity field in this realm, flight was impossible—but one could still scale heights if strong enough.

His two pursuers were puzzled by this move, but didn't overthink it. They simply followed. After all, they'd come this far and weren't giving up.

Although flight was restricted, their climbing speed was still fast.

In less than a stick of incense's time, Fang Ting and the others were already near the summit, millions of feet above ground.

The higher they went, the greater the pressure. Their speed slowed noticeably.

When Fang Ting reached the top, he felt like he was carrying the weight of countless collapsed cities on his back.

More importantly, he sensed a faint trace of imperial pressure at the summit.

"So… this is the burial ground you chose for yourself?"

One of the pursuers mocked. With both of them two realms above him, they were confident this was the end.

But Fang Ting didn't respond. His eyes were wide with disbelief at the sight before him.

The summit was a broad, flat platform about a thousand feet in diameter. Scattered across it were heaps of fine white powder.

Fang Ting immediately recognized them—bone dust.

And judging by the quantity, there were likely over a hundred skeletons' worth.

Around the bone dust were countless storage treasures and weapons—all of them sacred artifacts.

That was what made the scene so eerie.

Only Saint Kings ventured into this realm, and even in death, their bodies typically lasted tens of thousands of years. Their bones were almost impossible to rot or break down.

Yet here… were over a hundred Saint Kings reduced to powdered bones.

It defied logic.

Fang Ting could not comprehend what had happened here.