Pan Buwang stood frozen as Shen Wuyi's cold affirmation echoed in the air. The last flicker of hope in his heart was mercilessly extinguished. He didn't roar in fury or fly into a rage—only his body trembled uncontrollably. This was grief in its rawest form. True, bone-deep anguish and hatred that left no room for anything else.
"Why…" Pan Buwang's voice rasped, thick with despair, as if begging for meaning. "Wuqing was never a threat to you. You could've crushed her underfoot at any time. She was kind… so kind… Why did you have to kill her?"
"You're a perfect godhead, born with peerless talent. In the Kingdom of Eternal Night, who could possibly rival you for the title of Goddess? You could have let Wuqing live like a worm, like I once did—stripped of all dignity, stepped on by anyone. Wouldn't that have been more satisfying for you?"
Dark power erupted from within Pan Buwang, surging out of control in an overwhelming torrent. He had long since mastered its use, yet at this moment, he no longer tried to rein it in. He wanted to lose control—wanted to drown in agony.
The backlash of the rampant power tore at his body, but it didn't faze him. Compared to the pain in his heart, the physical torment was insignificant. In fact, he wished the pain could numb his soul… but it couldn't. His body hurt, yet his mind remained clear—too clear. A frozen clarity that made everything hurt more.
Shen Wuyi met his eyes, her face calm and composed, as if none of this concerned her.
"Perhaps that's how things work in your Owl Butterfly Kingdom," she said. "Even if you're crippled, you can still live freely and unbound. But in the Kingdom of Eternal Night… such naïveté is nothing but delusion."
"There are only two kinds of people in the Kingdom of Eternal Night: those with value, and the dead. Whether I had become the Goddess or someone else had taken the mantle, the fate of the previous Goddess would have remained unchanged."
"The one you should hate isn't me, but the Wuming Divine Master… and yourself. You must've heard the stories of my mother. Her hatred for men, her loathing of romantic love—it runs deep. Deep enough to be called madness. Because of her, love between man and woman is absolutely forbidden in the Eternal Night Kingdom. Everyone in the Abyss knows this."
"You and Shen Wuqing ignored that. You basked in your forbidden love. You never considered the wrath of the gods, never thought about the consequences."
"In the end, this tragedy is your own doing. Without the power to defy the system, your love was deemed as nothing but scandal—punishable by death."
Her voice remained cold and resolute, yet it was also the first time she had ever spoken so many words to Pan Buwang. Perhaps Yun Che's presence had begun to thaw the ice within her.
Pan Buwang stood there in silence, her words stabbing into him like icy blades, piercing his heart again and again. His eyes slowly dulled as her words dismantled the remnants of his belief.
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
He collapsed to the ground. Dark energy burst forth around him in a chaotic storm, his soul seemingly lost.
"Qingyue really is incredible," Yun Che murmured from afar, watching the scene unfold. "Even without her memories, she managed to reduce Pan Buwang to this state with just words. A clean victory, without lifting a hand. She truly deserves to be my wife."
Still, he knew Pan Buwang wasn't that easy to break.
"He's a disciple I personally raised. He won't lose his will to fight just like that. The hatred in his heart… it's probably no less than what I once carried."
"By the way, Li Suo," Yun Che asked, curiosity piqued, "what exactly did you mean earlier when you said a 'good show'? Can you finally tell me?"
"Oho?" Li Suo chuckled. "So there are things even you can't foresee? That's rare. Just keep watching. I'm looking forward to Pan Buwang's response too."
"You're becoming more sentient by the day," Yun Che said with a wry smile. "Even forming your own opinions now."
Suddenly, Pan Buwang laughed—wildly and bitterly.
"Haha… So what if you're right?! It's too late! Wuqing is already gone! What use is talking about right or wrong now?" His voice cracked, laden with anguish. "No matter how convincing your words, the fact remains—Wuqing was killed by you. I will seek revenge on Shen Wuyanye… but you'll be the first to die!"
Dark energy surged around him once more as he rose to his feet, his body now steady—his eyes burning with revived intent.
"Wuqing and I loved each other. What's wrong with that? The only ones in the wrong are Shen Wuyanye and these ridiculous rules!"
Shen Wuyi sighed softly, not a trace of fear on her face.
"Then prove yourself with power," she said. "Because the rules of this world are written by the strong. The day your strength surpasses the Wuming Divine Master… you can create your own laws."
With those words, the Holy Feather Ice Crystal Silk in her hand flared with a frigid blue light. The full might of her cultivation at the sixth level of the Divine Destruction Realm burst forth—no longer restrained. She was ready.
Across from her, Pan Buwang gripped the Dark Moon Blade tightly. Shrouded in dense dark energy, the ancient weapon gleamed with a gray, ominous glow.
"Then let me show you my eternal darkness!"
His voice was cold and steady—calm, but seething with rage. He channeled the divine gift of the Mist Emperor, darkness purer than anything the abyss had ever seen.
"Obsidian Phantom Light!"
The blade released a blinding burst of black and gray light, streaking toward Shen Wuyi like a spear of annihilation. It was far stronger than the attack he'd used against Pan Buzhuo.
But Shen Wuyi stood her ground. With graceful, precise movements, she twirled the Holy Feather Ice Crystal Silk. Her body danced through the air, weaving past every spike of deadly light with practiced ease.
"Dark Moon Raid!"
The previous strike had been a feint.
As the phantom lights scattered, Pan Buwang disappeared into the shadows. An instant later, he reemerged just inches from Shen Wuyi—his blade already slashing toward her neck in a deathblow.
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't panic. At the last moment, an icy wall formed between them. The Dark Moon Blade struck it with a resounding crash, scattering frozen shards in every direction.
Behind the icy veil, the silk weapon coiled forward like a ghost, its hue nearly blending with the wall. The sudden illusion caught Pan Buwang off guard—his focus slipped for a moment too long. He was nearly ensnared.
Yun Che watched from a distance, impressed.
"Both of them… incredible talent and perfect mastery of their respective powers," he muttered. "They're true heirs of the gods. And even now… without using the Eternal Calamity of Darkness, I might not be able to defeat Pan Buwang one-on-one."
That thought tugged at him—an unfamiliar feeling of inadequacy.
"Don't belittle yourself," Li Suo said softly. "If you weren't suppressing your cultivation so strictly, you'd already be one of the strongest among all the divine heirs."
(End of Chapter)